Love at First Laugh: Eight Romantic Novellas Filled with Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever After

by Krista Phillips

  Even so, the trip to the waterfall had been good. The picnic he took her on the next week a little awkward, but she still agreed to go hiking with him later that same week. She even faked such an interest in his landscaping that he took her to mow three lawns with him one day. That had been the longest workday of his life, trying to keep an eye on her and off her at the same time. A very delicate balance.

  But still he hadn’t clarified their relationship, and she hadn’t clarified anything between Arabelle and Flint. Since he took their cues as his own, he was more confused now than he had been in the beginning.

  “What’re they doing this time?” Emily wondered, placing her chin on his upper arm.

  “Fairy stuff,” he muttered, shoving the phone over so it was sitting in front of his niece. She huffed and gave him a sideways glance full of seven-year-old sass before she took the phone into her hand.

  “They’re on a bird.”

  “Probably contracting all sorts of bird flu.”

  She shrugged as she turned the phone sideways, scrutinizing the drawing more closely. “They look like they’re having fun.”

  That comment made Clint glance at the phone again. Arabelle did have a giant smile on her face. Flint looked kind of stoically present. Maybe a slight hint of a smile tilting up one corner of his lips. If she was having fun, that was good enough, right?

  But what was he supposed to do, exactly? It wasn’t like using a bird as an airplane was a picnic or a hike. Last he knew, there were no giant birds in the area capable of carrying fully grown humans. Which meant his little hints had dried up. So he’d have to resort to something cliché like dinner or a movie.

  “Too easy,” Emily said as she dropped the phone on the table, moving back to the snack cabinet.

  “Easy? What do you mean, easy?”

  Grabbing a package of crackers, she closed the cabinet door and turned back in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where can you go for rides in the sky? Duh. Dollywood.”

  “You’re going to have to sit this one out, big guy.” Willow stepped into line, turning to smile up at Clint. “It has a height restriction, and you’re dangerously tall.” She glanced at the sign again, noting that the maximum height was six-foot-six.

  “If there’s a height restriction, it would probably be that you’re too short,” he told her, sliding his sunglasses off his face and placing them instead on the brim of his baseball cap.

  Teasing. She was finally breaking him out of his shell at last. A little bit, anyway. Their first outing together he had been largely quiet, but he said a little bit more each time she saw him. Which she would like to happen more than once a week, if she was being honest. He didn’t even ask her to spend time with him as if he considered their excursions dates. Just casually mentioned places like he was already going somewhere and she could tag along.

  This time, though, had been different. It hadn’t been a weekday jaunt to some secluded place. A smile crept onto her face as she remembered him standing on her doorstep a few mornings back, asking if she’d ever been to Dollywood. She hadn’t let him off the hook easily, either. “No, I haven’t,” she said simply, waiting for his next move. It had taken several painful, agonizingly long seconds before he uttered another word. Then, when she was afraid she’d have to ask him out herself, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

  And now there he was, just inches away behind her in line, driving her slightly crazy with temptation. She’d been habitually trying to break herself from the strange desire to touch him, and she’d mostly avoided the embarrassing habit today. It was still a little early to declare her prevention a success, though.

  “Have you ever flown?” she wondered aloud when the line stopped in front of her. “I mean, of course you have. Overseas, military, dumb question. Forget I asked.”

  He stepped right next to her, placing one of his large tennis shoes in between her two boat shoes on the asphalt. Her eyes swept up and over his shorts and snug T-shirt before realizing he’d taken her braid in between his fingers. She watched as his fingers worked over the twisted ridges she’d formed in her hair that morning, first tracing a purple line with his fingertip, and then blue.

  “Sure, I’ve flown. Several times. You?”

  She tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest and the goosebumps spreading across her arms. “No. There’s something that scares me about flying.”

  His gaze left her hair and instead traveled to her face, and she studied his pale blue eyes while he placed her braid against her shoulder, his fingers brushing against her collarbone in the process. The guy behind them in line cleared his throat, and she glanced over to see that the line had moved in front of her. Stepping away from Clint, she took a deep breath while she tried to calm her fidgety nerves.

  Clint stayed behind her this time, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body through the back of her T-shirt. “What is it that scares you about flying?”

  He was propelling the conversation on his own. Normally that wouldn’t be something she’d notice when speaking to someone, but Clint was usually so quiet it felt like a milestone.

  “I don’t know, the falling to a fiery death part?”

  Willow could feel his beard tickle her neck as he leaned in behind her. “You do realize this ride simulates flying?”

  Unable to keep the smile from spreading on her face, she dropped her head back until it was against his chest. “Of course, but you’re with me, so I feel fearless.”

  That was a little too much. She knew it the moment the words left her lips, but she remained there with her head against him, enjoying the few seconds of touch. About the time she decided she should lean forward, lest he think she was being too pushy, she felt a feathery sensation against her right arm. Training her eyes near her elbow, she saw his fingers brushing against her skin the way they’d been sweeping her hair a moment ago.

  The clearing throat behind them almost made her groan, and she moved forward again, breaking her contact with Clint. She wasn’t willing to undo the momentous “normal-dating” progress they’d made in the past moment, though, so she turned to him the minute she reached the line again.

  “Is there anything you’re scared of?” she asked, standing sideways so she could glance back at him as the line moved forward.

  “Tiny people.”

  She wrinkled her nose as she gave him a good-natured eye roll. “Tiny people, seriously? What else?”

  “Things with more than one hair color.”

  Turning fully toward him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What else?”

  “People who talk too much.”

  A rumbling scream sounded behind her as the roller coaster went by, and she narrowed her eyes as she studied Clint. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were describing me.”

  The slightest hint of a smile made his lip twitch as they stopped moving forward again. “You’re terrifying.”

  Willow pressed a hand against her chest, moving her lips into a wide O shape. “Me? I can pretty much guarantee you’re the only person in the entire universe who would be scared of me. But you know what? I’m proud of you.”

  “You’re proud of me?” He crossed his arms against his T-shirt, accentuating his muscles merely by the way they pulled against his sleeves. Willow tried not to notice the lines that formed on his upper arms where the skin followed the contours of those muscles, instead staring up at those eyes that she found only slightly more interesting than biceps.

  “Sure, it’s normal to be proud of someone who’s conquering their fears. And look at you, willingly spending time with me when I’m so personally terrifying to you.”

  “I deserve a medal.”

  She nearly giggled, but fought it back. “Certainly, and had I a medal at my disposal, I’d bestow it upon you right now. A medal of courage for Mr. Kirkland, who showed extreme bravery in the face of certain forced conversation with a petite woman.”

  “You forgot the
rainbow hair.”

  “How could I have forgotten that? Petite women with multi-faceted hair colors are the absolute scariest of them all. Bravo, sir, for your extreme courage.”

  He unwrapped his arms and placed one hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb against her neck. She couldn’t make her mind up regarding where to move next. Circle his body with a hug? Put her hand atop his on her shoulder? Maybe stretch to tiptoe in the hopes of landing a kiss on his cheek?

  The throat clearing behind them for a third time dragged her out of her daydream. “Maybe you two could just get a room? You obviously can’t pay attention to the line.”

  That wasn’t even close to being on her list of options, so she smiled sweetly at Clint, turned to see that the line had moved about twenty feet, and told herself for the millionth time to let the poor man make the first move.

  Chapter 7

  Arabelle could not fix the moment or the scene which started the story. She was already in the middle when she realized it had begun in the first place. #willowfairies

  “What should we do next?”

  The attendant had barely closed them into the little cart on the Ferris wheel when Willow asked the question, and Clint waited a few seconds to answer while he studied her profile. She looked around her, eyes wide, drinking in every single thing she could see. It was fascinating to him the way everything … well, fascinated her. She met every new thing she came across with the kind of awe that he imagined a blind person would feel on the first day of sight.

  “I don’t know that there’ll be a next,” he finally answered. “Park’s getting ready to close.”

  “That’s a shame,” she said with a sigh, letting out a little squeak when the cart moved forward. “I do believe I could stay here all night and never get tired.”

  The sun had already set and twilight was waning too, but the bright lights of the park meant he could still see her face as well as he could all day. She hadn’t been quite as touchy feely as she usually was, and her lack of contact somehow had him reaching out to touch her instead. Rubbing her multicolored hair between his fingers. Grazing the back of his hand down her arm. Even taking her hand in his while they walked.

  “Look at that view,” she whispered, her eyes settling on the far end of the park. “I can’t even remember when I’ve had more fun.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” he said, stretching his arm out behind her. “I’m sure you found plenty of fun in the city.”

  The view disappeared as their cart dipped down toward the ground. “Of course I found ways to enjoy myself, but this is different. Here in your mountains, my heart’s happy.”

  He chuckled as he avoided the gazes of the attendants while the cart passed. “I don’t own the mountains.”

  A smile brightened her face as she focused on the scenery once more. “I’m not so sure about that. I think the mountains belong to you, just as much as you belong to them. You’re imprinted on their face, and they’re stamped on your soul.”

  That.

  That was the kind of thing that made him half crazy. The way she spouted her poetic little phrases kind of offhanded like she didn’t even have to think about them. But if he had been thinking about what to say all day, to explain why he couldn’t settle anywhere else, he would have said something simple like it’s just home. Which it was, but so much more than that. She saw things deeper than most people, his little fairy painter.

  The realization that he was starting to think of her as his wasn’t as surprising as it should have been, either. He’d been doing that for quite a while, although he was hesitant to admit that fact.

  She continued to study the landscape, and he studied the side of her face. Everything about her seemed dainty, from the slope of her nose to the curve of her cheek to the way her chin almost came to a point. Even her ear seemed delicately perfect, the way it framed her face with no hints of any marks there. Not even the telltale little spot where earrings usually were, or had been. Flawless ear lobe. Had he ever really looked at a woman’s ear before? Probably not, he decided.

  Willow mentioned something about the lights, and he watched her lips move as she spoke. The top one lifted to an exaggerated peak in the middle, while the bottom one was fuller. It wasn’t good to be so distracted, he knew that. Any second now she’d ask him about something she said and he’d be clueless, but she was so stunning. He imagined himself showing her picture to his buddies in the service, like they’d shown him their girls back home. They would have said she was too good for him, and he would have agreed, because sitting right next to him like she was, he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  The cart jerked to a stop, leaving the two of them at the top of the wheel, gently swaying in the evening sky. Her violet eyes turned to look at him, too quickly for him to avoid her notice. Caught staring. He probably should have looked away, but he didn’t. And when he didn’t, she brought her gaze up to meet his, focusing directly on his eyes. He felt the tips of her fingers against either side of his face, her hands settling against his beard.

  She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, then glanced at his mouth. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

  He swallowed hard as his eyes widened. “I think I’m supposed to ask that kind of stuff.”

  Shrugging her shoulders, she gave an awkward little sideways smile as her fingertips swept down his cheeks. “You’re right. I keep telling myself that, but you’re moving too slow.”

  “Moving too—”

  His words were cut short by her fingertips settling on his mouth. She let them linger there for a few agonizing seconds while she stared up at him, and then dragged them away only to move her lips to his instead. He drew his breath in as she kissed him, but she leaned back immediately like she’d only wanted a taste, pressing her lips together while her eyes scanned his face.

  For someone who thought he was moving too slow, that was barely movement at all.

  Besides, it was time he took control of the situation. She seemed to like him, if her actions were any judge. The fairies she drew had been nice for giving him hints, but he knew her well enough now that he could come up with his own ideas. And he’d start with …

  Wrapping his hand around the back of her slender neck, he drew her closer as her eyes drifted closed. That was all the hint he needed before pulling her into another kiss. It probably wouldn’t have been his first choice, kissing her atop a Ferris wheel, but the goal had been to take her flying, and he felt like he was doing just that. Flying when he usually had his feet firmly on the ground.

  He deepened the kiss as the ride started again, unable to tell if it was the motion that had him off balance or the woman beside him. Perhaps a combination of both, since Willow seemed to keep him off balance all the time. Had since the instant he saw her, really, spread out on the ground in front of his mower. She’d been sending his heart into palpitations at every subsequent meeting.

  The sensation of dipping and rising back into the air let him know that they’d passed the bottom of the ride and were heading back up to the top. He leaned back and their lips parted, her mouth open as though in surprise. While he wondered if he should kiss her again, her fingertips trembled a bit at the neck of his T-shirt, connecting with his skin just above the fabric. She had such a dainty, delicate touch, like a butterfly softly landing against him.

  “Well done,” she whispered, all wide-eyed innocence again.

  It was impossible to contain his smile as she nestled into his shoulder, staring out at the scenery once more. He wrapped his arm around her a little tighter, making sure she was firmly against his side. No woman had ever praised him for his kissing ability before, especially not in the moment. Had any of them done that, he would have thought it strange. Not with Willow, though. Somehow everything she did managed to seem uniquely suited to her.

  And the fact that she enjoyed the kiss made him feel like he was on top of the world, even more so than the Ferris wheel could.

  Willow stepped
down from the truck, accepting Clint’s offered hand. Hers was a hopeless case. She’d tried to be poised and suave and ladylike, but still couldn’t help throwing herself at him in the end. Not that she regretted it now. That kiss on top of the Ferris wheel had pretty effectively blown her mind.

  Now she was the one who was struggling to find words, and he was carrying the conversation. Quite a difference from their norm.

  “Thank you for going with me today,” he said as he walked her across the yard to her cabin. “It’s been ages since I’ve been to Dollywood.”

  “Well, if you really wouldn’t have gone if you hadn’t asked me, then you’re welcome.”

  They reached the steps, and instead of walking up them, she sat on the top one and waited. He ran the palms of his hands against his shorts as he lowered himself next to her. It seemed easier to relate to him when they were sitting down. Maybe because he wasn’t towering over her and they were almost eye to eye.

  “So …” he muttered, looking out at the woods beyond the yard.

  “So,” she repeated, focusing on his truck in her driveway. “I have a thing for you.” An awkward silence stretched between them, and she tried to ignore the lack of response as she dared to look in his direction. He inspected the side of her face, brow wrinkling in concentration.

  “You have something for me.”

  “No, not something. A thing. I have a thing for you.” Leaning her head back to stare up at the sky, she placed her right palm against her forehead. “There should be a law against me doing this. I’m dreadfully bad at it.”

  Clint didn’t seem to notice her consternation, continuing to thoughtfully watch her as she dared to peek at him through her fingers.

  “Bad at what, exactly?”

  Life, she wanted to say. Instead, she let out a huge sigh. “It’s just that I haven’t had many dates, per se. I suppose it’s easier to just keep myself away from the opposite sex than to be reminded over and over again that guys aren’t interested.”