by Ellie Hall
Yeah, I should’ve asked her permission before sending her Amzaz concepts to IntelliMax, but since Georgia had been so adamant about never wanting to see them, and about severing all ties with Amanda, the second I got that confirmed in writing, I’d catapulted the art to Dean.
Amzaz needed them. Amzaz needed Amanda.
I need Amanda.
The look on her face, however, gave me no clear indication whether she wanted me in her arms or in the grave. She pushed that pesky lock of blonde curls behind her shoulder, as usual. Funny that I knew her nervous tell.
Risking it, I took her by both hands. “You were here quickly.”
She didn’t withdraw them. Or slap me. Win!
“I was passing by. I saw Mike on a Bike. He said this is IntelliMax’s digs now, and at that precise moment Dean Dryden called me. I feel like this is a dream. Not sure if it’s good or bad. How did Dryden get my designs, Calvin?” My name sounded like a mutated and restrained version of the Alvin and the Chipmunks yell she’d been so adept at in New Zealand.
“Before I forget”—I reached over and pressed the button to call the elevator—“Parley and Ellen say hello. The wedding photos are online if you want the link to the photographer’s site.”
“My cousin might want to see her dresses represented.” She was searching my face. “Enough delay. What is going on? How did something like this happen?”
“You mean, how did you land the job of your dreams? I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me something first.”
“Not this game again.” She stepped inside first when the elevator doors opened. “Fine. What’s the question?”
“Are you going to have photos of hobbits all over the walls of your corner office on the seventh floor when you become the art director for the Amzaz account for IntelliMax?”
Her eyes popped, as emerald and glittering as I’d ever seen them, when I said the words corner office. “It’s not like I’ll be a celebrity there.” She shook off the praise. “And yes, probably.”
“Why? What’s with the hobbits? Can you tell me yet?”
“That’s two things. You tell me first how I landed the job.” She pressed the button for the seventh floor a half dozen times. Bessie’s doors didn’t shut. Naturally. “What did you do?”
“I legally severed all rights SolutionX might have to your work, and then I sent them to Dean. Amzaz needed these ideas because they’ll deliver delicious, nostalgic candy from your childhood to their customers—who desperately need it and will be drawn to it because of your irresistible packaging and ad campaign ideas. Dean agreed. That’s how you got the job: through your creativity and hard work.”
“And your facilitation.” She stepped closer to me, close enough that I could smell her floral shampoo.
“Maybe a little.” I stepped closer, too, caressing her arms. Her skin was amazingly soft. “Now, about the hobbit thing.” I cringed. “Forgive me for the teasing?”
“You landed me my dream job. I can forgive a lot for that.”
A whoosh came from my lungs at the same time as the elevator’s doors finally closed. We didn’t move upward yet. “I have a few things to say, but first, are you wishing I was shorter and hairier and had longer feet?”
“I’m sure your feet are big enough.” A glint hit her eye. “Fine, I’ll answer honestly.” She sighed. “Look, I’m a reader, and when I read Tolkien for the first time, I fell in love with his philosophy and his optimism. The picture of the character from the stories was a symbol for all of those ideas.”
Again, while talking to her in this elevator, a thousand dominoes fell, creating a lovely picture. “I’d love to hear some of those ideas.”
“You mean that?”
“Sincerely.”
She searched my face, and then with a hint of a smile said, “For instance, that mornings should have less noise and more green; like there’s only one way, and that’s forward; like the hope that ordinary people’s acts of goodness can keep darkness at bay, and that there are precious things in life worth having and protecting.” She lifted her hand to her mouth, as if she’d talked too long.
But she hadn’t, not for me. I could’ve listened all day. “Go on.” I took her in my arms. “I want to know more and more. All of it.”
“Maybe there’s one more thing.” She sighed and rested her head against my chest. “I lived a long time in my hobbit hole, reading my books, eating my second breakfasts and being comfortable. But you called me to adventure, and I’m so glad I went.”
“Really?” So, she didn’t regret the trip? Didn’t regret letting me fall in love with her? My every sense came to life. I buzzed so much my skin even tingled. “My pre-teen Halloween costume and I are very glad to hear that.”
She craned her neck to look up at me. “Please enlighten me about that. No more hiding, you closet Tolkien fan.”
“Fine. I’ve watched the movies. A lot. And read all the books a million times.”
“Why pretend you disdain them?”
Might as well lay it on the table. “I turned fourteen. Parley and I got sent to a different school district. We decided to shed our geek pasts and masquerade as hockey worshippers to be popular. We never looked back. That is, until we both met gorgeous, irresistible fangirls of our first fandom, and now we both know what’s actually cool. But we still like hockey.”
For a moment she closed her eyes, almost as if in triumph. “I think I love you.”
For a second I wasn’t sure if I’d heard correctly. “Did you say—?”
“Mmm.” She smiled and placed a soft kiss on my mouth. The elevator began to rise. Or maybe that was my hopes for the future.
“You want to see something?” I didn’t wait for an answer but pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’ve been traveling since I quit SolutionX.”
“What?” She pulled away and dropped her jaw. “You quit SolutionX, too?”
“I mean, I couldn’t exactly head-hunt you to their top competitor and stay working there. Conflict of interest. Don’t worry. I’ll find something else soon. The good news is it gave me a chance to find this.” I opened my phone’s photos and held up the screen.
“A kitten?” Seeing Amanda’s pupils widen like lakes of shimmering love nearly undid me. She was so beautiful when she was happy. And I’d definitely made this woman happy. It feels amazing. Like something I could put on repeat and be happy myself—for a long time.
“You’re in front of the Reedsville Rhinos stadium.”
“And I’m holding …” I waited. She’d fill in the blanks.
“I’d say I’d recognize little Lego anywhere—except in Reedsville. Did you find his kitten clone or …” Again, she trailed off, but I was grinning to fill in her silence, and at last she interpreted my smile and threw her arms around me, showering me with strawberry-laced kisses. Between onslaughts she breathed. “By traveled, you meant you went to get Lego!”
Between kisses I nodded and grinned some more, but then I didn’t let the kissing remain at staccato levels. I slowed them down to legato. Sometime soon I’d lead her to the crescendo I’d been waiting for. Very soon.
“Amanda?” I pulled back but didn’t release her. “Bessie the elevator isn’t going to take forever, even though I wouldn’t mind for once, so before she arrives at the seventh floor, I have a hobbit quote for you.”
“For me?” Her cheek was flushed and she pressed her palm to it.
After speed-rereading everything from The Hobbit to The Silmarillion, I was sharpened up on all the quotes. My mouth might’ve been dry and my hands shaking, but I was going to do this thing. It was worth the leap.
“Amanda.” I swallowed and dropped to one knee. This was the real thing. I couldn’t miss a detail. “I’m so in love with you, Amanda Starkey. I never could commit to anyone before. I dated women for two weeks because I was looking for something. I only found it when I found you. Now, I can commit—to love you. For real. For always.”
“Really?”
“Y
es, because I would rather spend one lifetime with you, than face all the ages of this world alone.” I’d done it! I’d crashed my way through the caves and darkness of the past and broken free. All because of this exceptional woman.
“A Tolkien quote? For me?” Her eyes were a mixture of mist, disbelief, and—did I dare think it?—love. “I think this moment deserves another kiss.”
She kissed me, and it was like mists from the waterfalls at Rivendell and the lava of Mordor at once. I was smitten with this woman all over again.
Bessie groaned and clunked to signal her near-arrival.
“Let’s go sign my contract and get out of here. I can’t wait to hold Lego!” She sparkled. “Can I wear the Viking hat to hold him, too? So we can have matching pictures?”
“Hey, is this all about the cat? What about the man who rescued him?”
Her eyes smoldered. “He’s my real Legolas.” The arrows of desire and love shooting from her eyes hit their target’s center: my heart.
Yeah, I’d be her Legolas. I rocked that costume back in the day, and I’d totally pick up another one to please her. Archery dates and horseback rides in costume were definitely in our future. “We’ll send the pictures to Parley.” After all, Parley had technically won the bet, whether he knew it or not—but in doing so, he’d helped me win the one girl I wanted forever. Like the one ring, only a whole lot warmer.
I kissed her once more, and I realized—this was just the beginning of our adventure together.
“Are you going to have to wear the hat, then?” she asked as the doors opened.
We emerged onto the seventh floor. “Who needs season tickets?” Instead of being rink-side, I planned on spending those Reedsville Rhinos games with my elf queen in our cozy hobbit hole—where history would become legend, and legend would become myth, for our future generations to come.
Connect with Jennifer Griffith
Author of over thirty novels, Jennifer Griffith writes light, sweet, escapist fiction she calls “cotton candy for the soul.”
To take your own LoTR fan Love Language mini-quiz for free, click here.
To join Jennifer’s exclusive newsletter content with funny stories and news about releases and sales, click here.
The Sassy One
Cami Checketts
The Lonely Billionaire Pact might bring Rissa back into Breck’s arms, but she refuses to let him charm his way back into her heart.
To my daddy. Thanks for the funny sayings, hilarious songs, and always making me smile when things were hard. Thanks for your patience, your Christian example, and your love. I love hearing your voice in my head and I miss you.
Prologue
Rissa Gentry grinned as she took the elevator to Mumford’s Sons downtown Charlotte office. Her boyfriend Breck Judd had told her he was incredibly busy and had to work through lunch. She’d decided to bring him a sandwich, a strawberry lemonade, and several lingering kisses anyway. He’d never be too busy to chat and snog with her.
She squealed simply thinking about seeing Breck, gobsmacked that she had found the perfect man and an American at that. Her mum would have to get over the fact that he wasn’t a proper British bloke like her parents had always planned on her marrying. She was certain her Dad was up in heaven orchestrating this blindingly beautiful relationship. Breck reminded her of her dad—he would protect her, spoil her, make her laugh, and think she was the best person in the world just like her dad had.
She hadn’t been this happy since her dad was killed. She pushed that ache away and concentrated on Breck. Her man. Breck was smart, funny, hard-working, had the cutest sparkle in his deep-brown eyes when he teased her, and blimey the chap could kiss. Their connection was incredible and sometimes they had entire conversations without saying a word.
They’d been dating several months now. She’d tried to take it slow, but it was hard to take it slow when you were meant to be together and she longed to be with him every chance she got. Several times he’d told her he loved her and she’d teased him that Americans moved far too fast, while secretly loving that he loved her. Last night she’d completely lost the plot and admitted she loved him too. The kissing then had been brilliant. She needed to take him home to England soon. Her mum was going to love him. Who wouldn’t love Breck?
Last night she’d also admitted to him that she’d accepted a job offer in Ohio, but he didn’t care. Tomorrow she would receive her MBA at UNC’s business school, Kenan-Flagler’s, and then it was off to Canton. She and Breck would make a long-distance relationship work—of course they would. Love transcended distance and absence made the heart grow fonder. Every git knew that.
The elevator door opened on floor eighteen, just catching the end of her joyous squeal and an older gentleman stood there. He waved his cane in greeting, his thick mustache quivering with humor. “Wow, sweet pea,” he chuckled. “Excited to see me?”
She laughed, hurried out of the elevator, and hugged a complete stranger, her nose brushing against his soft, hairy cheek. She was so happy. “I’m in love,” she told him.
He grinned. “Lucky man.”
“Thank you.” She blew him a kiss and skipped toward the glass doors of Mumford’s Sons, the venture capitalist company owned by Breck and his brother Chance. She was in love and he was charming, sweet, smart, successful, and breathtakingly handsome. It was destiny that they be together.
She saw Breck through the thick glass doors. Her heart leapt. He looked incredible, as he always did, in a navy-blue tailored suit with his dark hair brushed back from his face and his dark eyes sparkling in that mischievous way that she loved. She tilted her head to the side and paused, confused. Those dark eyes weren’t sparkling brilliantly at her—they were completely focused on someone in the waiting area.
A gorgeous brunette in a lacy summer dress stood from the chairs as Breck approached. The girl squealed louder than Rissa had in the elevator and launched herself into his arms.
Breck caught her easily, swinging her around, and laughed happily. They looked like the perfect, gorgeous couple, like something better than the movie screen. What kind of barmy nightmare was going down here?
Rissa’s stomach launched itself into her throat as she clung to the sandwich in her hand so tightly that mustard squished over her fingers. She was baffled and suddenly afraid of what she’d see next. She thought she should close her eyes tight but she couldn’t do it, staring at this situation gone very, very awry.
Even as she watched, Breck set the girl on her feet and the beauty framed his face with her hands, went on tiptoes, and kissed him on the lips. If she kept watching, she knew the kiss would turn into an all-out snog. It all happened so fast, but it felt like a slow-moving nightmare. A train wreck Rissa couldn’t stop or prevent. She could swear she heard her dad’s voice in her head, “Run, my girl, run.”
She didn’t question it. That intuition from above had protected her many times since he’d passed—emotionally, spiritually, and physically. The first time he’d instructed her to run she would never, ever forget. It had been her eleventh birthday and they’d been going to pick up her cake. A man in the underground had pulled a knife on them. Her dad had pushed her toward the exit and murmured, “Run, my girl, run.”
They were the last words he ever said to her. When they captured the perpetrator later, he’d admitted he’d planned to kidnap Rissa after he killed her father. Rissa’s dad had been there for her until the end of his life. He’d never lead her astray.
To hear that voice now was heavenly inspiration. She had to listen. She had to run from the man she’d thought would be her future.
She whirled and sprinted for the elevator. “Hold the elevator,” she called.
The doors were almost closed, but they opened up again. The older gentleman stood there, his eyes wide. Rissa ran in so fast, she slammed into the back wall. The drink in her hand burst all over her white blouse, pink stickiness plastering her. She tried to wipe at it with her mustard-covered hand, and yellow smeare
d with pink. Her shirt was ruined. It was par for the miserable course of this moment.
“You all right, sweetheart?” the kind man asked.
“Please. Just get the barmy doors shut and get me out of here!”
“Okay.” He pressed the button to close the doors. “Don’t lose your knickers.” He smiled, seeming pleased with his British slang.
Rissa couldn’t even return his smile. Bits of ice and cold lemonade ran down her chest. It was a rank experience, but nothing was as miserable as knowing the man she loved was a dodgy cheater, and her dad was telling her to run from him.
She’d been warned multiple times by friends who’d known Breck at UNC, and random people throughout Charlotte who found out they were dating and made it their duty to call her. They all said the same thing—Breck Judd was a fabulous chap, and a very accomplished womanizer. He had never committed to any one girl. Idiotically, she’d thought she was special. She deluded herself into thinking he’d committed to her. She was such a gormless git.
She put a hand to her forehead, forgetting again that she had a squished sub in her hand. Mustard, mayo, vinegar, and oil pressed into her forehead. She blinked, eyes stinging. Vinegar and the bitter tears of betrayal were not a good mix. Oh, my. She was gutted—a dramatic, sticky, heartbroken mess.
She didn’t even care. All she cared about was Breck, and she’d lost him.
1
Rissa’s phone rang as she landed in Gunnison, Colorado. She looked at the caller ID; she couldn’t answer it. Breck Judd. The man would intrude on her holiday soon enough. It had been three long, lonely years since he’d shattered her heart. When she ran from his office, she’d followed her heavenly intuition and immediately fled North Carolina and any hope of a relationship, skipping her own commencement ceremony the next day.