Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection

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Love, Laughter & Happily Ever After: A sweet romantic comedy collection Page 33

by Ellie Hall


  Nick’s lips twitched, and not staring at his mouth was impossible. I’d been kissing those lips the day before and I already missed them. “That’s not what I’m here to say.”

  “Is it about your job?” If it was possible to clap sarcastically, I did it. “Congratulations. You’ve pulled yourself up by your bootstraps and are going to escape this place.”

  I turned toward the house, ready to run to my bed and unleash the torrent of tears. There was no point in holding them in anymore. It was unfair and darn it, I had earned my right to cry until my eyes were so swollen I couldn’t see.

  As the first tears forged hot streams down my cheeks, I hurried away so Nick wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing how profoundly he’d upset me, but as fast as I walked, his long legs ate up more ground and he cut me off. “Hang on. You have to give me a chance to explain.”

  “No, I don’t.” I tried to sidestep him, but he danced over to block me.

  “I think you should though.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed sassily. “If it’ll make you feel better, speak quickly. It’s been a long day.”

  “First of all, you’ll have to forgive Brittney.”

  “Whatever for? She was absolutely lovely, from her judgemental comments to the way she looked down her perfect nose at me. It was the highlight of my morning.”

  “She can come off a tad pretentious.”

  Laughter interrupted my tears. “A tad?”

  “Okay, a lot. She’s not a bad person though. Flawed, yes, but most of it isn’t malicious. She’s insecure enough that she copes with people she perceives as better than her by picking them apart.”

  I dropped my head and massaged my temples. “Even if I give Brittney the benefit of the doubt, my problem with this whole day isn’t her. It’s with you. I know we’ve only been seeing each other officially for a week, but you’ve already been keeping secrets. Why didn’t you bother telling me you had a job lined up?”

  “I hadn’t really told anybody.”

  “Brittney already knew.”

  “That’s because Clint Grange blabbed to her, otherwise, she wouldn’t have known. It wasn’t ever a secret, either.”

  “Then why didn’t you mention it to me? Yeah, I kind of hoped you’d find a way to stay out here, but I’m not naïve. You have to earn money to survive and the Granges will be back soon.”

  “That’s partly why I didn’t say anything. I needed time to think. To make decisions.”

  “About what? It sounds like your dream job fell in your lap and I’m not asking you to give up everything for me. I only hoped you’d at least be upfront with me when you knew things were going to change.”

  I couldn’t interpret the expressive gleam in Nick’s eyes, but the way he smiled made me think I’d missed something. “It’s true that at first, I was elated to have the opportunity to go back to my old life, but the longer I stayed out here, the more I realized what I’d be missing if I left.”

  “Please don’t tell me you turned down a perfectly good job because of me. That would make me feel guilty.”

  Nick’s grin soothed my worries. “I didn’t, but having to make those tough decisions sometimes facilitates inventive solutions. I wanted the job, but I want to stay out here. With you.”

  “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

  “In this case, yes, I can.”

  “Then you’ve defied the laws of physics.”

  “It’s not physics.” Nick chuckled.

  “Yes, it is. I’m sure bakery physics is a thing.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so.” I swiped at my cheeks to dry them. “I guess congratulations are in order. And goodbyes.”

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Nick reached for my hand and it totally disarmed me. “I got a hold of the Granges last week and asked what they thought about me staying to lend a hand in exchange for room and board.”

  “You’re going to stay with them?”

  “In Clint’s old room. It’s basically the size of a closet, but his mom promised to make me pancakes every morning, so I can’t complain.”

  “She does make the best buttermilk pancakes of anyone I know.”

  So good that I might have drooled a little.

  Or maybe that was from Nick’s cologne. I swear, whatever he wore had pheromones in it.

  “When the Granges gave me the green light, I drummed up the courage to ask the hiring company if they offer remote working.”

  I had scarcely noticed my heartbeat until it was racing so fast it might have burst through my chest if not for my ribs. “Are you saying…?”

  Nick nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “And Brittney? You’re sure you’re over her? You looked awfully snug together this morning.”

  Nick took a step closer and laced his fingers between mine. “That was a product of unfortunate timing and after you left, I reminded her how unhappy we would have been together. I’m sure she’s already over me and probably has a date for tonight.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell off the porch swing? Next to a rose like her, I’m a gangly weed.”

  “Funny you should say that.” I hadn’t noticed Nick had a hand behind his back. With one swift motion, he held up an enormous, fresh wildflower bouquet and offered it to me.

  The pesky tears that kept coming and going fell in full force and I covered my face with my hands. “Why do you have to keep being so wonderful?”

  “Are you still angry?”

  I sniffled and wiped my wrist under my nose. Classy. “Maybe a little, but the ice is breaking up.”

  Nick read me perfectly and took the opportunity to draw me in close. I rested my head on his shirt, aware that the fabric was soaking up everything, from snot to tears.

  “Maren, I’m inspired by you. There isn’t a person on this earth I’d rather be with and my only regret is that it’s taken so long for me to find you again. You might think of yourself as little more than a ditch flower, but that’s exactly what draws me to you. You’re hardy and beautiful, absolutely unforgettable in a way that I know you aren’t going to disappear on me when things get tough. You make the world more amazing by shining where you are. I should have told, starting back when we were nothing more than friends, that you’re amazing. Since I didn’t, I’m going to work every day so you know how incredible you are so you never question it.”

  How could this all be happening? For the rollercoaster of a day that it’d been, I couldn’t believe the high it was ending on.

  “You’re positive you didn’t come here to tell me you’d changed your mind about us?”

  “I’ve done some idiotic things in my life, but I hope I wouldn’t be so stupid as to do something like give up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to lose your friendship. Not again.”

  “Is it because you’d miss kissing me too much?”

  Nick smirked devilishly and pushed my hair away from my face. “That is definitely one of my favorite perks. Do you realize we haven’t had a single kiss yet today? I’m going through withdrawals.”

  Nick gazed down adoringly. Our lips were only inches apart, but as eager as I was to quench my thirst for a passionate kiss, the moment needed to be savored to be appreciated.

  Apparently Granny wasn’t as patient. “Come on, Nick! Close the gap!”

  Our heads both snapped over to the house, where Granny was leaning against her window screen, eavesdropping on our entire conversation. “Oh, my gosh,” I hissed. “Granny!”

  Nick’s eyes wandered back over to mine. “I was thinking about it.”

  “Good,” Granny shouted from her window. “Don’t let Maren play hard to get. She’s got it bad for you, no matter what she says.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Nick drew me closer until there wasn’t a spare inch between us.

  “You’re welcome,” Granny shouted. “Now, goodnight for real.”

  Granny slammed
her window shut as I dropped my head against Nick’s chest. “I promise she’s not usually so…conniving..”

  “Yes, she is,” Nick said through a laugh.

  “Yes, she is,” I agreed, “but I can go get some duct tape if it’ll make things less awkward.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “Why not? She’s not showing any signs of slowing down.”

  “Because she's rooting for us. It might be mortifying to you, but you’re adorable when you’re mortified.”

  One moment, we were frozen speechless in a sort of pleasurable torture, the next, Nick was kissing me like a madman. My fingers were in his hair, his hands traced up my spine, and all I could hear was my heart thundering in my ears, wishing it could last forever.

  “Maren?”

  Nick broke off our kiss abruptly but not drawing far. Our noses touched and our arms remained tangled around one another.

  “Hmm?” I nuzzled against him and breathed in his scent until my lungs threatened to burst.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Is it going to make me happy?”

  “I hope so.” He kissed my cheek, trailing it down my jawline until the whiskers of his chin were tickling my neck. I squealed and squirmed as he laughed. “What I wanted to tell you is that I’m in this for the long haul. It doesn’t mean that we have to rush, but I also don’t want to waste any time because I love you, Maren. I might have been too much of a coward to admit it when I was a boy, but now? I can’t wait for the whole world to know.”

  I pulled away and met his gaze. Cupping his face with my hands, I smiled through tears of joy. His words pieced together my heart, making it more complete than I ever imagined it could be by joining his heart to mine.

  “You’re right. That does make me happy.” I pressed my lips against his. “I’m glad you finally grew up.”

  “Because now I’m finally taller than you?”

  I laughed softly and curled my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Because I’ve waited a long time to be able to tell you I love you, too.”

  Connect with Rachael Eliker

  Rachael Eliker lives in Indiana, knee-deep in mud and manure on the family hobby farm, probably nurturing her love/hate relationship with running, puttering around on her old horse, or dangling precariously from a ladder while doing home improvements, pretending she isn’t afraid of heights. Between her busy schedule, her devilishly handsome husband, and a gaggle of children, she has plenty of inspiration to write novels until the end of time.

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  Take a Hike

  Sophie-Leigh Robbins

  Renting a small attic room from an eccentric family of six and having a curfew isn’t exactly the glamorous life I’d envisioned when moving to L.A. But then Caleb Miller shows up and turns my life around in one unforgettable day. Time spent with him is perfect, until he tells me to take a hike.

  1

  June

  I shouldn’t have hit send. What I should’ve done is delete my ridiculous words and gone home without embarrassing myself. Too bad that realization only sinks in after sending the email.

  I peek over the top of my laptop screen and scan the room. None of the other crew members are laughing. Yet. They will be as soon as they read my message. I pull up the folder that contains all my sent emails and read my own words again so I can assess how bad the situation is.

  Hi, everyone!

  Have you ever tasted those fresh donuts a kind person puts on the craft table for you every morning? Have you had a slice or two of the carrot caramel cake with the raspberry frosting yet? Or are you the kind of person who starts the day with a handful of croissants? I can’t blame you, as I am the one who puts out these delicious treats for you every day, but we all know too much sugar can harm us. Heck, it can even kill us.

  No worries, though. I’ve got the perfect solution. Why not go on a hike with me? It’s a win-win, really. You burn off some of those calories, and I won’t have to hike alone anymore.

  Let’s meet tomorrow (that’s Saturday for those not reading this right away) around 8AM at the La Tuna Canyon trailhead. See you then?!

  June, aka the catering girl from Sunny Craft Services Ltd.

  PS: I’m having a blast working on this movie with you all. Make sure to exercise so you don’t die before we can call this project a wrap!

  I groan. It’s even worse than I thought. Slapping a sticker on my forehead with the words “please be my friend” printed on it in bold capital letters would’ve been less desperate than this freak of an email. Ugh. Next time, I’ll have to remember my promise to refrain myself from doing anything on a whim, like bribing Lauren from HR with a carrot cake to get everyone’s email address.

  After doing a last supply check and stuffing some leftover donuts in a paper bag, I close my laptop and head out. Most of the actors have left already, and only a small group of crew members hang back to discuss a few technical issues they ran into today. Even though I’m only the catering girl for this big movie production, and no one ever pays me any attention, I’m great at listening to their conversations. It’s not like I’m eavesdropping—not in the true sense of the word, anyway. I mean, is it really eavesdropping when someone starts talking about their hot date to a colleague when they decide to have that conversation right next to my stack of cupcakes? I don’t think so. I can’t exactly start wearing earplugs to tune out their secrets. So, yeah, I know quite a lot, even though no one around here knows my name. One of the extras did call me “the snack girl” the other day, which is something, I guess.

  I open my paper bag while walking toward the bus stop and take a big bite of a chocolate donut. When I started working here last month, I often got lost in the maze of streets and recording facilities that all make up Sunshine Studios, but I’m pretty good at finding my way around these days.

  Just when I round the corner to the exit, a giant hairy monster knocks the wind out of me. Before I can process what has happened, a dark-haired figure runs toward me.

  “I’m so sorry,” he shouts. “Are you okay?”

  I rub my hand over my elbow, horrified to see there’s a bit of blood seeping out. “I don’t know.” I swallow. “There’s blood, and I feel a little dizzy.”

  “Thank goodness you’re okay,” the guy says.

  Um…what? I touch my head. Did I get a brain injury or something? I push myself into a seated position, only to witness the guy hugging the hairy monster that knocked me over.

  “I’m not okay,” I repeat in a weak attempt to catch his attention.

  The guy has the decency to look surprised at my words. “Oh, I was talking to my dog. For a moment there, I got scared she might’ve been injured.”

  It’s only then that I see who it is: Ryker Stone, the lead actor of the movie production I’m working for. If I weren’t sitting down already, I would have fainted. This is the closest I’ve ever been to him. It’s not like Ryker is the kind of guy who would eat from the craft table, you know. He’s got his own chef who makes him fresh sushi and seaweed salads every day—or so I’ve heard others say. Apart from appearing on set to film a scene, Ryker spends all of his time in his private trailer.

  For a brief moment, I’m optimistic and convinced he’s going to help me up, perhaps tend to my wounded elbow or drive me to a hospital or something, but that fantasy gets crushed to the ground when he takes his phone out and calls someone while completely ignoring me.

  “It’s me. There has been an accident.”

  I pick my now ruined donut from the ground and toss it into the paper bag while Ryker continues his phone call, oblivious to my discomfort.

  “Yeah, some girl came running from around the corner and hit Bobo. The poor dog didn’t see her coming.”

  I raise an eyebrow. That’s not what happened at all.

  “Excuse me, but Bobo is the one who ran into me,” I say, but I might as well be talking to a pigeon. He completely ignores me
and starts walking toward the VIP parking lot.

  I look around. Surely someone must’ve seen what just went down? Sadly, there’s not a soul in sight.

  “Yeah, and she was eating a donut. A chocolate one! Who is crazy enough to have chocolate around a dog? That’s like…murder with intent.”

  “Um, excuse me,” I try again, but to no avail. Ryker waves his hand at me as if I’m some annoying bug and marches off.

  I watch him disappear in the distance. He’s the complete opposite of the kind of person I had assumed he was. For starters, the guy didn’t seem to have an ounce of empathy. He didn’t offer me any help—not even a Band-Aid for my elbow. Luckily, I always carry a small first aid kit in my purse, and by kit, I mean a weathered, threadbare pouch that contains exactly two old Band-Aids and a pair of tweezers.

  The Band-Aid will have to do. I’ll clean out the wound later. Right now, all I want is to get away from here and go home to the bedroom I’m renting. I just hope none of the teens at my house will be occupying the bathroom for hours on end. It’s Friday after all.

  The teens aren’t mine, thank goodness. We’re not even related. I live with them because all I could afford when I moved to LA was a small attic bedroom inside the home of a family of six. Apparently, their desire to own a heated pool was so strong that they thought renting out a room to a twenty-something stranger was the best idea to get the money for their project. They did promise me I can use the pool for an additional twenty-five bucks a month once it’s ready, which honestly sounds like a great deal to me. The local public pool charges an admission fee of four bucks, so if I decide to take more than six swims a month, I’m already profiting. It’s a no-brainer.

 

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