The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  “Ah, yes, the next season of Sinners needs to be shot,” I said with a grumble. Reminding me that my favorite show was now a no-go wasn’t winning him any brownie points in my book.

  He nodded. “That, and other things. We’ll chat over dinner.”

  About what, I wasn’t sure, but I reluctantly led the way toward my apartment anyway, the first-story unit a dud thanks to a revolving door of upstairs neighbors that favored cement shoes and early morning jumping jacks.

  Slater stuck close to my heels, my skin humming the closer he got. “This is a nice complex.”

  “Thanks. It has its upsides.” It was close to school, for one, and I was only a mile or so from my family on Holly Hearth. Most importantly, it was cheap. If it weren’t for the noisy neighbors and strange smells, it would have been perfect.

  “The flowerbeds are pretty.” He uttered the ill-timed compliment as we passed the dumpster, the pungent stench of trash lingering.

  “They’re not as perfumey as your lavender, unfortunately.” If the flimsy daffodils were, maybe I wouldn’t smell the dumpster most days.

  Meanwhile, the grounds of his sprawling property smelled like fucking dryer sheets 24/7. Ah, the perks of money and fame.

  “They’re still pretty,” he insisted, coming to a stop as I fidgeted with my keys at the door.

  I ignored the idle chatter as the metal felt like cinder blocks in my hands. My brain was screaming for me to chase him off while my heart cried out that I needed to hear what he had to say. I felt like a pawn in a child custody battle between the two organs.

  “It’s a little messy,” I warned, pushing the door open after finally righting the key in the deadbolt. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  I flipped the light on, and my past laziness came swooping back with a vengeance when I spied a discarded bra hanging over the arm of the sofa. I’d thrown it there after getting home the night before. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen though, so I didn’t care.

  Modesty sort of went out the window after your genitals had been in someone’s mouth.

  “It can’t be worse than my place.”

  I snorted a laugh, unable to contain it as I set my purse on the kitchen island next to the stack of legal bills from a certain someone’s employer. “I don’t know. Dirty laminate isn’t as glamorous as marble.”

  He shut the door and shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a simple t-shirt that hugged his fit frame. “Trust me, my place is a dump right now.”

  “Did you fire your staff?” I slid my jacket off and hung it on the back of a barstool before taking his and do the same.

  He had a team waiting on him hand and foot at all hours. He didn’t have to wipe his own ass if he didn’t want to, let alone lift a finger to clean his house. He probably hadn’t washed his own underwear in a decade. Someone else laundered and folded all those sexy Calvin Kleins. Was it weird that I was slightly jealous?

  “I needed some alone time,” he muttered.

  Pft.

  “Okay, well, I have to change.” I kicked off my shoes and snatched the discarded bra, all while ignoring his poor-me stunt.

  He could hide out in his multi-million-dollar compound all he wanted. When he got dumped, then slandered on national television, maybe I’d give him an aw, poor thing.

  I rushed to change into a t-shirt and lounge pants in my bedroom before applying a swipe of coconut chapstick in a desperate attempt to inject a sign of life into my tired face. My curls were a lost cause after a day in the kitchen, so I said a Hail Mary, forced them into a half-up style with a clip, and headed back into the living room. He’d already seen me at my worst at the restaurant. Playing dress up was pointless.

  “So, what do you want?” I asked, getting right to it as I rounded the corner. There was no sense beating around the bush any longer. Shit or get off the pot, right?

  The family photos hanging by the front door held his gaze, the wall of memories arranged in a mix of black and yellow frames. “Lo mein. Chicken is fine.”

  I snatched my phone off the counter with a grunt, pulling up the food delivery app and swiping to my go-to Chinese spot. The one with the good egg rolls. “I meant in general. Why are you here?”

  “To see you.” Kind of ironic, seeing that his back was to me as he studied the smiling faces.

  I selected a pint of chicken lo mein for him before adding a pair of egg rolls and pork lo mein for myself. With another tap, I ordered our food, and I set my phone on the counter to glare at the back of his stupidly perfect head. “You could have FaceTimed. What do you really want?”

  “I think you deserve more than a phone call. Besides, I doubt you’d answer a call from me.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point, dammit. “Can you at least look at me when you talk to me?”

  He obeyed, turning slowly to meet me with wary eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He listened to you. I shook Rini out of my head. “What’s your goal here?” I pushed.

  “The first was to see you, so there’s one down,” he said with a half-smile, one of those damned cheek dimples making an unwelcome appearance. He should’ve had to carry a license to smile. That thing was dangerous. “The second was to sit down and talk. I’m still working on that.”

  “Only two goals? Aiming low, are we?”

  He raised an eyebrow as his smile reached full-mast, revealing the other blessed dimple. “Those are just the appetizers.”

  “I can’t wait to see dessert then.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could reel them back in, and the subsequent wave of embarrassment teetered into tsunami territory. Talk about verbal diarrhea, sheesh.

  “Me neither.” The star of countless lady wet dreams leaned against the counter so close that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to, his blue eyes smoldering as he stared me down.

  I ignored the call of lady lust to flee to the living room, finding respite on the sofa with a throw pillow pulled to my chest. A familiar warmth deep inside tingled again, the mere presence of Slater igniting the wildfire that had consumed most of my summer. Only now, buckets of reality were waiting to douse it in an all-out war against poor life choices.

  Desire had no place in any conversation between us. He’d lied to me. He strung me along, broke my heart, and left me for the vultures to pick clean.

  “I had to see you,” he said, padding over slowly, his sock-clad feet revealing that he’d slipped off his boots and neatly set them beside my work shoes. The sight hurt my heart, the simple domesticity taunting what could have been. “I couldn’t wait a second longer.”

  I gripped the pillow in my lap, resisting the urge to chuck it at his lying face. “A second longer than nine months?” I snorted.

  He sat on the opposite side of the couch, a valley of cushions separating us. “I’m sorry, Lita; I really am. I made a mistake, and I’ve spent nine months paying for it.”

  I reached for the remote, ready to tune him out with anything the television felt like shouting. “Oh, yes, the trials of hiding away in a Hollywood mansion. It’s worse than a stint in prison; I know.”

  His sprawling home in the hills was the size of a fucking department store. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost going to the bathroom. I had. Twice.

  “I wasn’t honest with you.” He ran a hand through his hair, brushing the wavy tresses out of his face for the first time since I’d seen him at Agatha. I hated how much I liked this new Slater. The disheveled, I-don’t-give-a-fuck Slater.

  “No shit,” I muttered, turning the television on. I didn’t need to stare at him any longer. I was starting to picture how the new Slater would kiss. How he’d taste. How he’d fuck. Not happening.

  “I want to move on from that. It was a mistake to not tell you from the start. I had a deal, and I…”

  A knock at the door cut him off, and I was more than happy for the distraction. He might have pissed me off to high heavens, but lady lust and her pussy pitchfork were going hog wild in my pa
nties. I’d need a steamy date with my toy drawer after he left.

  “That was quick,” he muttered as I rushed toward the door.

  I pulled it open, expecting the food delivery driver, but found Rini, Sage, and Raya instead, the trio rocking blue #TeamBoy shirts. Rini’s was snug over what looked like a cantaloupe under her shirt, while Sage’s stretched across his wide chest. Raya was the odd one out, choosing to tie the loose fabric of hers to the side, revealing a dangling belly ring that would raise Papa’s blood pressure if he saw it.

  As they fanned across the tiny porch, I spied my parents in the rear, Mama and Papa donning pink #TeamGirl shirts. Mama held a brigadeiro cake in her hands, the chocolate icing mouthwatering at a glance.

  “Surprise!” they cheered in unison while I was still taking it all in.

  “What the hell?” I breathed as Sage thrust a blue t-shirt forward. “You’re pregnant?”

  “No, but if I was, I’d be a MILF in this shirt, right?” he replied with a waggle of his brows.

  “Surprise!” Rini repeated, her hands falling to her belly. “I wanted to tell you after the finale, but I couldn’t. Not after what happened with dickface.”

  I took the t-shirt and clutched it to my chest as the news sunk in.

  Rini was pregnant. Rini. Was. Pregnant. She was growing a human. A baby Sage. Jesus, what if it got his shoulders? What if it had three eyes?

  “Well, damn, you don’t have to leave us outside!” Rini laughed. “I’m pregnant—not infected. It’s not contagious, dude.”

  Let’s hope not.

  I stepped aside as I shook the thought away, letting my family pour in the narrow entryway, forgetting about Slater until Raya squawked, “Theron effing Slater is on your couch!”

  “Yep,” I said as I shut the door, still struggling to process the news.

  Rini was going to be a mom. The queen of buttplugs and dildos. I couldn’t believe it.

  I navigated through the horde of bodies to the living area, where Slater sat with wide eyes.

  It must have been a special shade of scary to come face to face with a group of people who wanted to nail his balls to the floor. Not only that, but they stood between him and the exits as they spread across the living room.

  The meeting was nothing like I’d once imagined it to be, when I planned to bring him to dinner at my parents as my boyfriend. Back when I worried that they’d love him more than me.

  “Guys, this is Theron,” I introduced, his first name strange on my lips after so long. “Theron, this is basically my entire family.”

  The star of Sinners didn’t need an introduction, but manners begged to differ. With Mama standing feet away, I wouldn’t set them aside. She’d whack me with her purse.

  Sage’s nostrils flared, my brother-in-law not bothering to hide his disgust. “We know who he is. Why the fuck is he here?”

  “Because it’s my apartment,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Now, pipe down, and tell me what’s going on.”

  Rini might have found his overbearing, macho-man ways endearing, but half of the time I wanted to throat punch him. The whole caveman thing was so not my scene.

  “I have a confetti gun to shoot and see what sex the baby is!” Rini announced, reaching into her Givenchy to pull out a silver cylinder. As she did, I got a good look at her belly, and my jaw dropped.

  How did I miss that thing?

  Her usually svelte middle swelled into the cutest little melon of a bump. At barely five-feet-tall, I had no clue how she’d hidden it.

  As she righted the cylinder, there was a sudden pop, and a stream of pink glitter fired into the air.

  Everyone screeched as the shimmering dust rained down across my living room, covering everything in pink sparkles.

  Including Slater.

  “Oh. My. God.” Rini’s hands shook so hard that she dropped the cylinder to the ground, her eyes wide as she gawked at the sparkly Hollywood star. “I am so sorry. I mean, you suck for what you did to my sister, but I didn’t mean to do that. I swear.”

  Slater shook his head with a smile, sending a glitter cloud into the air. “It’s okay; I earned that. Congratulations, by the way.”

  At least he took it in stride.

  My insides were quaking at the thought of cleaning up glitter for the next decade. I’d never seen so many sparkles in my life. Everything was twinkling in the light. The couch. The curtains. The rug. I’d spend forever on my hands and knees and not in a good way.

  “Thanks,” Rini muttered before springing to her tippy toes to kiss her husband. “A girl! I can’t believe it!”

  “We’re outnumbered,” Sage sighed, glancing over at Papa, who offered a weak shrug from beside Mama.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Papa assured. As the father of three girls, he knew that better than anyone. “You’d better hope she takes after you. Your wife was a handful.”

  My elder sister grinned at the insult. “I kept you young.”

  Papa chuckled as ran a hand through his hair, his salt and pepper strands more salt than pepper anymore. “Most of these gray hairs came from you, filha.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Sweet little Raya was adding more and more to the collection with each passing day.

  “Okay, so how did this all happen?” I asked, glancing around the collection of relatives in my living room.

  “Well, Lita, when a man and a woman love each other very much…” Slater teased as he brushed glitter off his jeans in puffs.

  I rolled my eyes before facing my family. “So, you all got together, planned this, and no one spilled the beans?” I focused on Mama as I spoke. The woman couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. She always told our family to Brazil and back whenever she heard a whisper of news. When I got my first period, I had ten bouquets of daisies waiting for me before noon from relatives I’d never met congratulating me on entering womanhood.

  “We wanted to do something special after…. Well, you know.” Mama’s eyes flicked to Slater, who squirmed as a sea of fiery eyes followed.

  “It’s okay,” he said, moving to rise to his feet. “I was just leaving.” Speckles of glitter danced in the light as they fell, his outfit riddled with shimmering flecks.

  Please no.

  When I first saw him at the restaurant, I would have done anything to make him disappear, but the thought of him leaving again sent my stomach toppling to my toes. I wanted that talk. I needed to hear him out, as much as I hated to admit it.

  “Theron…” I called, praying that I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

  He smiled weakly at his name before extending a hand to Papa. “I’m sorry to meet you like this. I want to apologize for what happened. I never meant to hurt your daughter. I’m sorry.”

  Papa accepted his hand and shook it firmly. “No one hurts my daughters. You might leave a little scratch, but my girls are bulletproof.”

  Slater nodded and offered his hand to Sage, but the towering brute ignored it, choosing to level a gaze at him that made my knees wobbly. “You don’t deserve her.”

  Slater stood tall, taking the insult on the chin. “You’re right. She’s too good for me.” His voice was pained, but his expression held firm.

  “Guys, let’s not do this, okay?” I urged, looking between the men. The last thing we needed was for Sage to go all King Kong on Theron. “There’s a baby to celebrate!”

  My niece. A surprise baby that I suddenly couldn’t imagine our family without. She’d have more love around her than she knew what to do with.

  Slater brushed more glitter from his chest before looking at Rini. “Congratulations again.”

  Sage’s jaw flexed as if he would speak, but Slater didn’t stick around to hear whatever he had to say. He slipped on his boots and grabbed his jacket before I reached him, tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.

  “For dinner,” he explained, shrugging out of my hold when my hand met his shoulder.

  “Theron, come on,” I called, following him to
ward the door, but it was no use.

  He didn’t look back as he opened it and left into the night.

  10

  Theron

  Do the right thing.

  I had to keep repeating that as I hoofed across the parking lot to my rental. Pink sparkles blew off along the way, forming my own strip-club wake.

  The sheer joy of what I’d witnessed inside left me lighter than air, carrying me farther and farther from the woman I loved. The woman that deserved that joy more than anyone.

  The trip had a mission, and I’d completed it.

  Now I had to let her go.

  “Theron!”

  Shit.

  Talita sprinted from her front door and down the sidewalk, her arms free and flailing. She wore no coat despite the cold, and as she got closer, her pink socks practically glowed against the asphalt.

  She stopped just short of me, her breathing ragged from the brisk run. The tip of her nose was already turning red as she scrunched it when a gust of wind brought glitter flying from me to her. “Stay and have dinner. Mama brought cake, too.”

  God, I wanted to shake her. She was too good of a person. Too kind and compassionate. An easy target. No wonder Umi trampled all over her.

  Do the right thing.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to get going,” I said, listening to the angel on my shoulder rather than the devil for a change. “Go celebrate. Congratulations, auntie.”

  As an only child, I couldn’t relate, but her face screamed happy even while looking at me, the deliverer of more strife than a pregnancy scare with an ex. Happy enough to overlook my faults, which wasn’t fair to her.

  She rubbed her hands along the exposed skin of her upper arms, futilely attempting to fend off the cold in her thin t-shirt. “Don’t be a party pooper. Come inside. Our dinner isn’t even here yet. There’s plenty of cake for dessert, too.”

  The cake her mom brought looked amazing, and I knew it tasted just as good, too. Talita made one using her recipe for my thirtieth birthday on set.

  I drop-kicked the urge to say yes. I wasn’t there for me, and I definitely wasn’t there for cake. “Sorry, I can’t. It’s getting late. But thank you for talking to me.”