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

by Ellie Hall

  When she did lift her head, Breck was staring at her with a hunger that made her breath catch. His eyes flickered to her lips and then back to her eyes. Warmth filled her that she couldn’t ignore.

  “Ah, Riss, you still have the power to make me want to commit myself to you for the eternities.”

  She pulled back. “Nobody has that kind of power, not even your American Wonder Woman.” They’d seen the first movie together. Why had she brought that up?

  “You could be my Wonder Woman and I promise not to die like Steve.” Breck pumped his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t it be worth trying?”

  “Trying what?” She looked sharply at him. How dare he claim he could commit to anyone for longer than a few minutes? Eternity? That was a joke, profanity coming from his lips.

  “Trying out my lips?” His tongue darted over said lips and they looked more than worth a sample. They looked more appetizing than her mum’s Victoria sponge cake. “For old time’s sake?”

  Rissa’s heart must’ve stopped, or this stinking high altitude was going to bump her off. She couldn’t catch a full breath and she was getting lightheaded. She teetered on her heels and Breck reached out to steady her. His warm fingers on her arm filled her with longing and a desire to do more than try out his lips.

  Chance approached, rescuing her from making the desperate and grave mistake of throwing herself into Breck’s appealing arms. But oh, what a fun mistake it would have been.

  Breck’s younger brother looked handsome in his tux and a little pale. He tugged on Breck’s sleeve. “It’s time, bro.” He gave Rissa a quick hug. “Great to see you, Rissa. Thanks for coming. It means the world to Summer.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” she lied. It was becoming quite the bad habit. She wished she could “miss” the entire event, most especially facing Breck again. She adored Summer, but somehow staying aloof around the man she’d fancied for years was proving impossible. She should’ve come up with some valid excuse to miss this wedding and prayed her favorite toy designer would forgive her, and not quit on her. Being married to a billionaire, Summer might not want to keep working. But she was not only a hard worker and self-sufficient, toy design was in her blood.

  Chance hurried away, still gripping his brother. Breck gave her one last look, as if he were a man desperately in love and was being yanked from said love.

  No. She was making up fantasies. Breck’s look was more like a cat ready to devour the mouse.

  Rissa closed her eyes and clutched at the neck of her silky white blouse. She could not allow herself to be the mouse again. Breck would have to survive on the gourmet cat food he’d devoured for the past three years.

  Breck tried to keep his eyes on his brother’s golden-haired bride as she practically pranced down the aisle, but it was not humanly possible to keep his gaze from straying to Summer’s exquisite boss, the woman of his every dream. Rissa Gentry had cut his heart out and stomped on it three years ago, but for some reason he was far too weak to cut her loose. After too much chasing and begging on his part as to what had gone wrong, he’d finally agreed to stop asking and to her terms of friendship, completely befuddled by the request. And if he were man enough to admit it—heartbroken like he’d never thought he could be.

  Yes, he was secure in his looks and charm, and it never hurt that he was insanely wealthy. Women came to him and in his younger years, he’d enjoyed every minute of the nonstop female attention, but no woman had touched him or broken him like Rissa. He often wondered if he couldn’t forget her because she’d been the one to end it. The theory made sense, but he couldn’t lie and pretend it wasn’t much deeper than that. The substance, grace, humor, and kindness that Rissa exhibited, he’d always wanted to hold on to. He’d never found her equal in another woman and he knew—she was the woman for him. Her irresistible British accent was a perfect bonus to all of her other irresistible qualities. Now to convince her he was the man for her. It would be the hardest quest of his life.

  Studying Rissa as she focused on the bride, all the longing he’d tried to bury for over two years and then used as his motivation the past seven months to make a change and be worthy of her, hit him again. It was her kindness, grit, sense of humor, and hard work ethic that he’d never been able to forget.

  He didn’t mind admitting that she was gorgeous too—the delicate yet strong form, the silky mahogany hair, the high cheekbones, large pale blue eyes, and bow-shaped lips. He loved every bit of her and was ready to declare his intentions, beg her to forgive him for the hundredth time for whatever had happened to make her run from him three years ago, and then beg her to have mercy on his heart and love him like he loved her.

  What if him loving her too much was what had made her run?

  She’d only told him she loved him once, the night before she ditched him. Every other time he’d said he loved her, and she’d teased that Americans moved too fast. Well, three years wasn’t fast. He’d have to pray it was long enough and that she wouldn’t run again.

  Had she run from him last night? He could’ve sworn he’d seen her peeking out of that bar on Elk Avenue. He’d tried to find her and the good old boys in that bar had acted like they were sheltering an innocent fugitive from a crooked mafia member. Maybe he’d dreamt it up and she hadn’t peeked out of that bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been so desperate to see her that he had imagined her in unlikely places.

  She caught him looking at her during the ceremony and gave him a quick, almost shy smile before focusing on the wedding couple. Was it his imagination, or was she as affected by seeing him again as he was her? A man could hope for a miracle.

  The preacher must’ve said man and wife because Chance and Summer were kissing as if neither of them required oxygen to survive, only each other’s lips. The rest of the wedding party was cheering. Breck smiled and cheered along with everyone else, needing to stay in the moment. This was his brother’s big day, and Chance deserved every happiness in the world.

  Breck wished he could find a love like Chance and Summer, but the only woman who fit that bill for him had dumped him, and from the way she extended her hand all formal-like when he saw her before the ceremony, he didn’t think getting back into her good graces was going to be as easy as he’d been praying.

  Summer kept telling him that Rissa’s face lit up when she talked about him, and his new sister-in-law still thought there was a chance for the two of them. He and Summer had spent a lot of time the past seven months plotting how to get Rissa to the wedding, prove to her that Breck was the man for her, and make Breck’s play for her foolproof. Summer liked to call it “The Ditched Billionaire Pact.” His brother’s new wife loved to tease.

  The bride and groom didn’t walk back down the aisle but stayed in place and started hugging everyone around them, while still clinging to each other’s hands.

  Breck thumped his brother on the back. “I’m thrilled for you, bro. Summer’s perfect for you.”

  “Thanks.” Chance grinned. “Love you.”

  “You too.” Breck found himself getting a little choked up. His brother was the best man he knew, and Breck would do anything for him.

  Summer stretched up and hugged him, interrupting his congrats with, “Ditched Billionaire Pact is in place. You’re seated next to Rissa at dinner.”

  Breck pulled back and smiled. His brother’s new wife truly was a doll. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Summer gave him a wink and then was swept away to the next group for congratulations. One of the girls was squealing something about hardly seeing each other since summer camp at Wallakee, and how happy they were that Summer had kept “the pact.” Summer had told him about her and her friends Billionaire Bride Pact and how she never planned on keeping it until she fell for Chance. Which had led to her creating the Ditched Billionaire Pact for Breck, because he was “so pathetically lonely and ditched.” He wasn’t lonely and ditched. He had plenty of friends and could have plenty of dates if he wanted them. He simply chose not to date a
nymore.

  Okay, he was lying to himself. He was pathetically lonely and desperately ditched, for Rissa Gentry.

  Another one of Summer’s friends approached, a teeny blonde dwarfed by her massive husband. Breck thought the guy was the creator of Friend Zone. The blonde bounced in excitement over Summer’s dress, her ring, how perfect she and Chance were for each other, and the gorgeous setting for the wedding. Breck smiled. He loved women and their enthusiasm.

  Thinking of women, it was past time he found Rissa again. She’d resisted every attempt he’d made to see her in person the past three years. Even when he’d followed her to England and her own mother had lied that she wasn’t there. He’d attempted to charm her mother into giving up her fugitive or wait her out. Sadly Rissa had never appeared, and though her mother appeared to love him, she’d never admitted Rissa was hiding there. So he’d eventually been forced to admit defeat, give up, and slink home to America with his tail between his legs.

  Over the years, he’d drawn up plans of attack on several different occasions, intending to show up at her work and sweep her off her feet. Sadly, when the woman you loved kept ditching you, you respected that. He might only have today to win her over to Team Judd. He needed to take advantage of every minute.

  3

  Instead of rushing up to congratulate the bride and groom, Rissa tried to find a way to disappear. The problem was, the wedding party had all ridden up to the picturesque spot above the valley of Crested Butte in those four-wheel drive vehicles because of the muddy terrain. She walked over to where the all-terrain vehicles were parked to inquire if there was anyone available to take her back to town. There was no one around. Looking over her shoulder, she kept searching. If Breck found her alone, she’d be in trouble of losing her heart.

  She finally found a driver, but he was helping carry food to the buffet table.

  “I need transportation back into town,” she said in her professional tone. “I can pay whatever is necessary.” She softened her voice, “Please.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. No one’s going back down until after the dinner. I’m under contract to help here. Unless it’s an emergency. Is it an emergency?”

  Oh, she wished she could lie and say it was, but was that fair to pull this man away from his job? She appreciated dedicated employees. Yet, this was an emergency of the heart. If she didn’t get away, Breck would find her again, and she’d barely survived the thirty seconds of interaction before the ceremony. What if he had a full five minutes? He’d convince her to not only kiss him but to declare her love for him. Five minutes later, she’d see him off snogging some pretty girl from the wedding party. No. She wasn’t having any of it. She could not let him break her apart again. Three years since the last time, and she still acted like a soppy git every time she thought of him. Dang him.

  A firm hand on her back yanked her from her nightmarish visions of the man she loved in the arms of another woman and face to face with his handsome mug.

  Breck was glancing over her with concern. “Riss? You okay, love?”

  How did he do that? His pet name for her and a term of endearment, coupled with worry in those dark eyes, and she was faltering faster than her spotty cell service up this mountain.

  “Right as my mum’s pudding, thank you.” She jerked from his touch and strode back toward the wedding party. More people. That would be the key to keeping him at an un-kissable distance. She’d thought she’d be prepared today. She wasn’t. Thankfully he hadn’t referenced her hiding under a bar table in a puddle of beer last night. Maybe he wasn’t certain she’d been there.

  Breck was at her side with his arm around her waist before she could react. She felt like the air had been knocked out of her. That manly hand placed possessively on her hip. His tall frame holding her close. The luxurious scent of his cologne. It was too much and was completely unfair of him.

  “I’ve missed you all these years,” he murmured close to her ear.

  Rissa glanced sharply at him, and unfortunately his lips brushed along her cheek before she could draw back. Her breath was coming in short pants. She wished she could throw a comeback about how he’d never come to see her, but they both knew the truth. He had come, flown to England, knocked on her mum’s door numerous times, and she’d hidden from him like an ankle biter. It was the only way to stay immune to his magnetism. She’d stayed stronger than English oak, even though sometimes she felt as dense as oak, turning down the most charming man on the planet over and over again. Yet he’d not only lied about not being able to go to lunch on that fateful day, he’d been with another woman, and snogged that beautiful woman. She should hate him. The anger had faded, but she couldn’t get rid of the longing for him.

  Breck stopped and pulled her around to face him. “You’re the only woman who could ever do this to me.”

  “Do what exactly?”

  His eyes swept over her face. “Make me insane waiting for you.”

  He grinned and she realized how completely and horribly she’d longed for that brilliant grin of his. Why had she kept her distance? Was it really worth not being near this man when she loved him so desperately? Then what he’d said really and truly sunk into her thick, barmy brain. She was only another game to him. A challenge. She made him wait for her, so he pursued. It was his life quest to have every woman fall at his feet. As soon as she fell, he’d move on quick. He didn’t have a shred of loyalty or integrity in that handsome body of his.

  “You can wait until you’ve over-egged the pudding, but it won’t matter,” she snapped at him.

  The ache in his eyes made her regret her words instantly. Breck blinked and his arms dropped away from her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hating that she’d hurt him. Even if he was the biggest player in the dating game, he was her friend, and she didn’t want to cause him pain. “Can we just … be mates? In the British sense not the American,” she hastened to add. “We’ve done a pretty brilliant job of being friends over the past three years.”

  Breck’s lips recovered their smile, but not his eyes. He surprised her by agreeing without any argument, “Of course.” Why did him not fighting for her hurt almost as bad as his betrayal had three years ago? She should be grateful he wasn’t going to start a battle for her heart at his brother and her employee’s wedding. Should, but she wasn’t.

  He offered her his arm and she slipped her hand through, hoping she could handle being close to him without doing or saying something she’d regret. Like admitting that if he really was waiting for her, she’d commit herself to him for eternity and beyond. Who cared if the pudding was over-egged? Sometimes she wasn’t even certain what her mom meant when she said that, but she knew it meant she’d ruined something by pushing too hard. She shook her head. She and Breck would never happen. Him pushing too hard would ruin it. Right?

  Then why was she sad that he wasn’t pushing?

  “What’s going on in that brilliant brain?” Breck asked.

  “Zilch,” she said quickly.

  He chuckled. “Now, I don’t believe that. If you’re not scheming how to up production or beat out the competition, you’re daydreaming about me.”

  She shook her head and bit at her lip. How did he know her so well? How much she thought about him?

  “Seeing you again.” He smiled and lowered his voice. “You’re more exquisite than any scenery I’ve viewed from Thailand to New Zealand.”

  “Thank you.” She blushed but held her head high and tried to take the compliment graciously. What was it about this man that made her forget she was a confident business professional and how could she explain to him that mates didn’t talk like that to each other?

  Breck escorted her to a side table where they had a good view of the bride, groom, his parents, and Summer’s parents, but they had a measure of privacy too. The wedding party was all celebrating, talking, and starting on their salads as Breck and Rissa took their assigned seats. It was smarmy that she was right up front like she was part of the f
amily, or Breck’s date, or something. She didn’t like to put on airs as some Americans assumed all Brits did.

  Breck’s parents glanced over at her. His mom whispered something to his dad then they both stared and smiled some more. As if Rissa were the most blinding ace Breck had ever had on his arm. She squirmed. She’d been forced to fire employees and take responsibility for mistakes to the board or owner, but she had never felt as uncomfortable as she did at this moment.

  Rissa managed what she hoped was her confident smile, took a sip of her water, then focused on her salad. The dressing was tangy and rich, a creamy poppy seed, and she loved the strawberry-spinach salad’s crunchy sweetness complete with candied pecans. She enjoyed a few bites uninterrupted, grateful she could eat at all with Breck nearby.

  His knee rubbed against hers and the bite of spinach stuck in her throat. Her stomach took flight from a simple knee rub. Ridiculous. She swallowed the lump of spinach and then glanced up. Their gazes met and tangled. An entire conversation passed between them, almost without her permission. How could they still have such a strong connection?

  The earnestness and warmth of his look was a dagger through her abdomen. How could she still be so gone over him? She knew who he was, what he was. He wasn’t like her dad—solid, good, and protective. Breck wasn’t future husband material and never would be. When he was eighty, he’d still be smoking hot and fit, and the filthy turncoat would still have women crawling all over him.

  The waitress came to ask for their drink orders. She nodded to Rissa’s request of a lemon for her water and fawned all over Breck as he ordered a mango lemonade.

  “She thinks you’re the bee’s knee, you realize that?” Rissa couldn’t help but fling at Breck.

  His eyes broke concentration on her face for half a second as he glanced around as if befuddled. Then he focused back on her and it was a wonder Rissa could breathe at all.

  “Who does?” He reached for her hand under the table, rubbing his thumb along it. Her skin predictably tingled in response. Barmy skin anyway.