Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

by Violet Duke

  *

  SUMMER KEPT QUIET as long as she could before she finally blurted, “What did you and Gabriel talk about at lunch today?”

  Jemma Leigh took a sip of her coffee, her eyes sparkling. “A little of this and a lot of that.”

  Summer sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, and trying her best to pin Jemma Leigh with a dirty look, but she couldn’t keep it for long.

  She and Jemma Leigh had made it a habit to meet each other at Muffin Top’s at least twice a week. At the rate they were eating muffins, Summer might have to buy an entirely new wardrobe in a larger size. To compensate, she took long walks, ate light lunches, and had her standard bowl of cereal for supper—unless Gabriel took her out on a date.

  “You can stare at me until there’s a hole in my head, but I’m not saying anything.”

  “At least tell me if it was a good thing or a bad thing.”

  Jemma Leigh grinned. “That all depends on you, sugar.”

  “I got your sugar,” Summer muttered as Jemma Leigh waved at a group of women. Every single one of them waved back. Was there anyone is this town she didn’t know? Then again, Jemma Leigh’s mother was the former mayor of Holland Springs, so it was probably her job to know who people were.

  “I’ll be coming by tomorrow evening to get you ready. I’m thinking pearls and—”

  “You don’t have to fuss over me like you do,” Summer said, thinking of all the time Jemma Leigh had spent away from her family to help her. All the times she and Jemma Leigh would talk and laugh… Okay, so Jemma Leigh did most of the talking and laughing, but, for once, Summer felt like she was part of a group, even if their group was only a duo.

  “It’s fun, and you’re such a good listener, though I wish you would talk more, but like sister like sister, I guess,” Jemma Leigh sighed.

  “You and Rose are really good friends?” Was she a substitute for Rose? Summer didn’t want to be a substitute for anyone. It was bad enough she had convinced Gabriel to marry her, when he should marry for love and to someone who deserved a man like him.

  “Well, I wouldn’t call us really good friends. The only person Rose opens up to is Alexander, but since he’s her husband, I can’t be put out by that. You probably won’t believe me, but when I was growing up, I used to envy you Holland sisters.”

  Summer’s mouth dropped open, even as she kept a firm grip on her coffee cup. She absolutely couldn’t believe that. “Envy us?”

  Jemma Leigh waved a hand in the air. “Three sisters, always hanging out with each other, always leaning on each other… I’m an only child, and I was in awe. The three of you were like your own little clique, and gorgeous to boot. I wanted to be a part of that.” She gave Summer a shy smile. “Sorry it took me so long to try to be your friend.”

  Would the people of Holland Springs ever quit surprising her? Besides, Summer had grown fond of Jemma Leigh. She acted like an older sister, looking after her like she did, and always waiting with her for Gabriel to pick her up. It was like she actually cared about Summer’s feelings.

  Summer tentatively reach out her hand and covered Jemma Leigh’s. The woman’s eyes rounded a little, and Summer could have sworn that tears glistened in them. From now on, she would be a true friend to Jemma Leigh, instead of merely putting up with her, or at least telling herself that she was putting up with her.

  “Better late than never, right?” Summer said with a smile.

  Jemma Leigh smiled right back at her. “Darn right.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE NEXT EVENING, Gabriel brought her to his house, like he had promised, but he didn’t take her inside. Instead, he led her to the back, to where his view of the Pamlico Sound was best.

  Water lapped at the edges of the small beach, fireflies danced in the yard, and the heady scent of gardenias swirled around her. Stars were starting to twinkle in the sky.

  “Do you remember this place?”

  She turned this way and that, taking in the large backyard, the massive live oaks, and the Low Country-styled house.

  “It looks a little familiar, but no.” She gave him an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”

  He turned her to the right, pointing at the forest. “We built our teepee over there.”

  Summer gasped. “You bought the Simmons’ place?” She and Gabriel had spent so much time here as children, year after year, until he’d given Summer her first kiss. Then, things had started to change between them.

  “I had to.”

  Summer slipped her hand in his. “You had to?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply, and it was then she remembered.

  This had been the house of her dreams. Before Gabriel had moved to Holland Springs, a family had lived in it, a mom, dad, and three kids—all boys. Curious, she would watch them, laughing at their antics and smiling wistfully at the parents who loved them.

  Eventually, they moved away and the house became rundown, but she hadn’t stopped coming here. At least, not until the first time she ran away from Holland Springs, with a pocket full of cash and a stolen car, payment from Patrick Johnson’s father when he’d caught his son with her.

  “Unfortunately, it wasn’t structurally sound, so I had to spend a lot of time and money having it shored up and redesigned, but it was worth it,” he said, unaware of her less-than-happy thoughts. “I wasn’t even able to move in, until a month ago.”

  “Still living out of boxes?” she asked, trying to push them away, but not quick enough to escape Gabriel’s notice.

  “Why are you so sad right now?”

  “Memories.”

  He exhaled, and then pulled something out of his pocket. “I hoped by bringing you here would make you happy, and be something we could tell our kids about in the future.” He opened his hand. A ring with a single diamond lay in the center of his palm. She didn’t know enough about jewelry, except to think that it was pretty and she didn’t deserve it.

  “Jemma Leigh gave us her blessing,” he added.

  Her heart stuttered. “It’s just a marriage of convenience,” she said without thinking.

  “It’s more than that, and you know it.” He slipped the ring on her finger. “Marry me, Summer Holland and make me the ha—”

  She kissed him before he could say happy, because she couldn’t bear to hear the word. There was no way she’d ever make him happy, at least not permanently. But she could offer him moments of happiness, moments of pleasure, that would make him not regret helping her out.

  He stood there, not kissing her back.

  For a moment, she was worried that she’d done the wrong things, but then his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. His mouth fastened to hers, tongue slipping inside to touch hers.

  She ran her hands down his back, slipping them under the hem of his polo shirt and gliding up the hard planes.

  He groaned in pleasure. She’d heard the sound often enough to recognize it. Lightly, she let her nails rake the skin, and he murmured her name. He tore his mouth away from hers, kissing up the side of her neck.

  “I want to take you inside so badly,” he whispered.

  She let her head fall to one side to give him better access. “No one’s stopping you.”

  “I’m stopping me. I can wait a few more days.”

  “How about tomorrow?” she asked, shivering in pleasure as he bit the lobe of her ear.

  “Too soon.”

  “Think of what we could be doing by tomorrow night.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. “What you could be touching again.”

  “You’re killing me. Killing. Me.”

  Peering at him throug
h her lashes, she unbuttoned the tiny fastenings in the middle of her dress and let it gape open. “Will these bring you back to life?”

  With a groan, he fell to his knees, burying his face there. She threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him close. “You smell so good,” he murmured. His lips teased the skin on her left breast, and she almost fell to her knees. “You feel so good.”

  “So do you.” The fabric of her dress pooled around her waist and he looked up at her, desire glittering in his eyes. “Your turn.”

  He stood, and she thought he would, in fact, take off his shirt, but all he did was lightly kiss her mouth while adjusting her dress. “I have limits, Summer.”

  “I wouldn’t think less of you, if we had sex, right now,” she said. There would be no gloating on her part, no satisfaction had at making him so desperate for her that he would give up everything he believed. “I want you to make love to me, Gabriel.” She trailed the backs of her fingers down the center of her chest, and then cupped her breasts. His nostrils flared, and she felt a thrill of pleasure run though her at the sight of raw need. “Please don’t keep me waiting.”

  “We’ll get married this weekend.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SOMEHOW, GABRIEL HAD TALKED the town’s clerk into expediting the marriage license, which is why she stood in the middle of the guest bedroom, at Gabriel’s parents’ house at the beach, while she waited for Jemma Leigh to bring her a glass of water.

  According to Jemma Leigh, who was serving as her maid of honor, the entire town was agog over the wedding. No one could remember the last time a Holland had actually gotten married in Holland Springs, let alone to a local boy—and the preacher’s son to boot.

  It just wasn’t done.

  Yet here she was, doing exactly that. Maybe she should have done like her sister, and gotten married in a foreign country. Only then, she would be more indebted to the Jemma Leigh and Gabriel’s parents.

  Jemma Leigh had helped her find a dress, while his parents had insisted on taking care of the wedding and reception, and they had insisted on inviting the entire congregation of Grace Baptist Church.

  The thought of all those people staring at her, judging her, as she walked down a sandy aisle to exchange vows on a perfect stretch of beach made her want to puke.

  Gloria stuck her head inside the room. “May I come in?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Gloria walked in, carrying a length of lace. “This was my wedding veil, and I’d be honored if you would wear it.”

  Automatically, Summer reached up to pat her hair. Jemma Leigh had gathered it at the crown, leaving most of it loose, with flowers woven in. “Will fit?”

  “Turn around and let’s see.” Gloria tucked the comb in, fluffing the lace a little. Their gazes met in the full-length mirror propped against the wall. Tears were in Gloria’s. “Que bonita,” she sighed. “It was my mother’s great-grandmother’s veil. She brought it with her to California from Spain, as a part of her wedding trousseau. It was an arranged marriage, but since then, only love has been the reason for marriages in this family.”

  Nausea made Summer’s stomach churn. This wasn’t love. This was a marriage of necessity. “I’ll give it back to you, for Isabella—”

  “No, it’s for the firstborn or his bride, and one day, you will do the same.” Gloria kissed her cheek. “My newest daughter, you are a beautiful bride.”

  Summer wanted to sit on the floor and bawl like a baby, but not before she gave the veil back. There was no way she could go through with this, no way she could hurt an entire family like this. But just as she reached for the veil, Jemma Leigh came barreling through the door, took one look at her, and burst into tears. Again.

  “Oh my word, Summer,” Jemma Leigh exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart. Tears spilled over her lashes and onto her cheeks. “That was just the finishing touch we needed.”

  “It’s my something borrowed,” Summer said.

  Gloria clucked her tongue. “No, this is your something old.”

  Jemma Leigh gestured to Summer’s ears. “The earrings are something borrowed and blue.”

  “A penny for your shoes.” Isabella voice cheerfully rang out.

  Summer wiggled her toes. “I’m barefoot.”

  Isabella shrugged. “I don’t think you need it anyway. Gabriel is the nervous one.”

  Summer blinked. “He’s nervous?”

  “Of course he is, he’s marrying the woman he’s loved since he was fifteen,” Gloria said, and the world tilted on Summer. She felt dizzy. She felt like a fraud.

  “Looks like it’s contagious,” Isabella said with a little laugh, helping Summer to the bed. “Need anything?”

  “I need to sit down, is all,” Summer gasped, breathing slowly and gripping the bedpost.

  Jemma Leigh and Gloria exchanged smiling looks. Summer felt even worse.

  “Sit down and drink some water, sugar,” Jemma Leigh said, helping her to a high-backed chair and handing her a glass. “Don’t worry about your lipstick.”

  Summer sat there, drinking water, while she debated on whether or not she should run away. She had no idea why anyone called it having cold feet, because she felt hot all over.

  Before she knew it, Gloria and Jemma Leigh were herding her out the door and into the backyard. They walked with her to the beach, where everyone was sitting in rows of chairs as they waited on her.

  The sun shone bright as music played. She could hear the waves lapping on the shore. A few seagulls cried out. It was perfectly warm, perfectly breezy, and she was a perfect fraud.

  She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust. Gabriel came into focus, standing in front of an arch of roses and ivy. He looked so handsome standing there, dressed in a pale blue shirt and khaki pants. His dark hair gleamed in the sun, as did his tan skin. Her mouth twisted a little when she realized he was as barefoot as she was.

  He smiled, his entire face lighting up with joy, and it seemed his dark blue eyes glowed.

  She couldn’t help but go to him, then, and take his arm, listening to the words and repeating her vows. All she could see and think and feel and breathe in those moments were Gabriel.

  Angel.

  He kissed her, and she kissed him back, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting reality to crash and make her want to burn this time in her life away. Not wanting anything or anyone but this man, standing in front of her and kissing her like he loved her.

  Everyone clapped and cheered for them. The sound snapped her out of her thoughts.

  Get a hold of yourself.

  Summer stepped back, face flushing. Gabriel’s face was flushed as well.

  “You make a beautiful bride, Mrs. Edwards,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

  Mrs. Edwards. She smiled at him, and for once in her life, she had no comeback at all.

  They were married.

  To each other.

  Forever, according to their vows and to Gabriel himself.

  Married.

  Until death do us part.

  MARRIED.

  She couldn’t stop thinking of that word, and all it meant to him, all it didn’t mean to her, while the wedding party was hugged, kissed, and wished nothing but the best.

  “I like the flowers in your hair,” Gabriel said as they sat at an elaborately decorated table just for the two of them. “The veil’s pretty, too.”

  “You mother gave me the veil.”

  His dark brows rose. “Did she?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t bear to look at him, so she glanced at their feet. “I can’t thank your parents enough for doing this. I hadn’t thought of all the things that go into weddin
gs. They’re not exactly looked upon too favorably in my family.”

  “Yet, Rose married anyway.”

  Before she could answer, someone tapped a spoon against their glass. So, of course, she and Gabriel had to kiss.

  And, of course, everyone had to cheer and say awww.

  And,of course, she wanted to go throw herself into the ocean.

  “Tonight can’t come fast enough,” Gabriel said, brushing his mouth over hers. She shivered in response, her skin coming alive at the feel of him.

  Summer tried to smile, tried to be cheerful and happy, but all she could manage was a little, “Mmm-hmm.”

  It wasn’t until they had eaten and were driving away, with shoes tied to the bumper and a Just Married sign on the back of Gabriel’s truck, did she realize that she had no clue where they were going. She didn’t expect a honeymoon. There wasn’t enough time to plan one, and she had no passport to go anywhere.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, because she was at least curious about his plans.

  He grinned at her. “Home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  GABRIEL HELD OUT his arms to Summer, and she went willingly into them, her body shaking. They were in the master bedroom of his house, and she knew what would happen next. She knew what he expected and what she wanted, and she knew that they were the same.

  Still…

  “Nervous?” he asked, his hands gliding down her back.

  “I’ve done this before, remember?” She wanted to smack herself for saying that, for reminding him of the rumors and the truths he thought he knew about her.

  “You don’t have pretend with me, not anymore,” he murmured.

  She made a noise in her throat. “I’m not pretending.”

  He leaned back, gazing down at her. “What you think I want isn’t what I want.”

  “How do you know what I think?”

  “It’s all over your face.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. “I want you, Summer Jean Holland Edwards and no one else. I want to make love to you all night and tomorrow and the next day. I want to love you for so long and so good that you’ll never want our honeymoon to end.”