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

by Ellie Hall

  “Nikki?”

  I glance down at the floor and try to gather my thoughts, but the taste of Kai’s kiss at my lips and the scent of him in my head make it impossible.

  You just demolished rule two.

  It takes about one-third of one second for the panic to kick in. Yes, I did.

  At once, I shoot to a stand, too overwhelmed by the motion in my head to hold still any longer.

  Kai looks up at me. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere, I just need a minute to think.” I hurry toward an aisle of bookcases. My hands shoot to my temples as I close my eyes and work very hard to refocus. What do I want? Why did I really come here?

  My eyes flick open to see a row of fairytale books before me. That’s what I want. I want my own happily ever after, and I want it with Kai.

  So maybe that’s what’s tearing me up inside. My rules don’t allow me to get that. They’re wimp rules from a wimp girl who doesn’t want to get hurt again.

  But if I want to make the most of this experience, if I want to make each day count—I need to take the risk. And that means two things: no more guarding my heart, and no more guarding my lips.

  I grin a little.

  Focus, Nikki.

  I clear my throat and nod because I can feel that I’m getting somewhere important.

  New Rule Number One: I’ll seize the day. I’ll capture each moment. I’ll give myself to this experience and see it for the rare opportunity it is—a second chance with the only man I’ve ever loved.

  But now I need another rule. One that helps me maintain my dignity. I’ve walked around wearing my pain like a badge of honor for years. And now I’m going to just swallow it back for all eyes to see and pretend it was my fault too? No.

  So, New Rule Number Two: I will not apologize for giving Kai the ultimatum or for sticking to it when he left.

  A new rush of life sweeps through me as the rules take root. They’re perfect. I’m finally free to explore things with Kai which, since I’m being honest with myself, is why I really came. And with my second rule, I can preserve something that is also very precious to me, right or wrong—my pride.

  I suck in a satisfied breath because suddenly, I feel like a whole new woman.

  5

  Day 3

  “Welcome to Confession Corner,” Colt cheers through the speaker between us.

  I stare at the only overt camera I’ve seen in the house, ready to answer Colt Findley’s questions while, you guessed it, the cameras roll. At least I’m tucked safely into a small room in the library that I hadn’t even known was here before now.

  “Oh, but first,” Colt says. “I need you to spin the stool about forty-five degrees, so you’re facing camera one.”

  I look to my right and see only a wall.

  “You’re facing camera two right now,” he explains. “Rotate to your left, and I’ll let you know when we’re good.”

  I do as he says, shuffling my feet to turn to my left and spot a glass box that looks like a mirror.

  “Perfect. Now, a question about your date yesterday,” Colt starts. “Please, tell us what in the world you were thinking when—upon kissing Kai for more than sixty seconds, you naughty minx you—you got up, scurried over to the bookshelves, and shifted your weight erratically while rubbing your temples?”

  I stifle an inward groan. “You’re making me sound nuts.”

  “Yet you are the one who behaved as such,” he counters. “Tell me—did you regret kissing Kai?”

  “No,” I blurt. “I mean…not exactly.” I shake my head, wondering how much I’m willing to say. “I’d told myself that I shouldn’t kiss him while we were here, so when I did, I sort of panicked. But then I thought about the make it count quote and decided that I should take advantage of the time we had here and…see if it could work between us.”

  “So you’re admitting that coming into this, you weren’t ready to give Kai a second chance?”

  “Only part of me was ready.” I’m not about to admit that I named that part of me and had since given her full rein.

  “And now?” he asks.

  I think back on all the progress Kai and I made yesterday. The camaraderie, the conversations, the kiss. We spent the entire day together after breakfast. Until Colt announced it was time to go back to our rooms, that is.

  “And now…” Colt prompts once more.

  I bite back a grin. “And now I’m all in,” I admit.

  “The old feelings are still burning strong, eh?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “It seems like they are.”

  “It does indeed.” Innuendo coats his words. “Last question before we let you go. Kai is just outside this room, waiting patiently to walk through that magic bookcase with you. During his turn in confession corner, we asked if there was anything that might keep him from getting back together with you.”

  A knot of nausea rolls through my gut.

  “So now it’s time to ask you that very same thing. And don’t worry, our little box is soundproof. Let’s do it this way. I’ll start the sentence, and you end it. “I could never get back together with Kai if…”

  I nod, knowing just how to fill in that blank. “If he couldn’t take full responsibility for what he’s done,” I say. “It’s important to me that Kai realizes that he is the reason it ended between us, not me.”

  “You’re saying that if he refused to take sole responsibility, you would not want to work at the relationship?” Colt asks.

  I don’t love that he adds the word sole, because when he puts it that way, it makes me sound rigid and selfish. But the truth is, I spent over five years struggling with this. I blamed myself over and over, and the only thing that ever brought me an ounce of validation was the fact that I warned Kai it would be over upfront. And he still left.

  “Yes,” I finally say with a nod. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Colt huffs out a breath. “My, my, my. Okay, Ms. Nikki wicki woo woo, it’s time for you to shoo shoo off to your next date. And lucky for you, you get to wear the ensemble you have on your very own bod, which, I must say, is much better than the romper.”

  “Thanks.” I come to a stand, huff out a breath of my own, and try to figure out what part of that encounter rubbed me so wrong. It doesn’t take long to pinpoint it—I didn’t like going on record about where I’d draw my line.

  Sure, I feel justified, but having it out there like that will only make me look like a fool if I accept anything less. Now it won’t be just Nate that will give me crap over it; all of our old classmates and everyone tuning into the show will too. I’ll be forced to stick to my guns no matter how much Kai softens me up.

  Kai is not trying to soften you up, Nikki.

  I step out of the video diary room and see Kai leaning a muscled forearm along the doorframe. He breaks into a slow and easy grin. “Hey, babe.”

  He is too trying to soften me up.

  “All done?” he asks.

  I feel the guilt on my face as I nod.

  Kai holds his elbow out to me. “We’re off to see the wizard?”

  I grin and loop a hand around the crook in his arm. “Close enough.” In truth, we have no idea what’s in store for us today.

  We make our way through the tall bookcase and stop short. It looks like we walked onto the set of a sitcom. No wonder they kept us away from this part of the house yesterday; they’d been busy building a massive set. It’s like looking into a two-story dollhouse. There are bedrooms, a kitchen, a family room, and a bathroom that would not offer any privacy since it lacked a wall on one side.

  “Oh, thank heavens you’re here,” hollers a panting Colt Findley as he tears onto the scene in a rush. He’s wearing a business suit again, though it’s hard to see with the diaper bag, baby blankets, and burping cloths draped over him.

  “I thought you two would never come.” He hoists the diaper bag off his shoulder and shoves it at me. Next, he takes one of the baby blankets and proceeds to wrap it around Kai’
s neck like a scarf. Colt transfers the burping cloths—at least a dozen of them—by draping them along my forearms and then Kai’s.

  “The twins are upstairs asleep, but they won’t be asleep for long. Their food’s in the kitchen. I’ll be back when I’m back…” With that, Colt dashes back through the door.

  I look over at Kai with wide eyes. “Twins?”

  Kai pulls a cringe face. “Hopefully, they’re not real.”

  “They’re probably just those lifelike babies they give you in child development class,” I say.

  We walk cautiously toward the front room part of the home. Kai looks cute with all of the pink, frilly fabric on him. We make it to the couches and take a seat. I glance awkwardly about the house, feeling as if I’m carrying a lot more than all the baby stuff Colt draped over me.

  There’s unseen baggage clinging to me as well. And I wonder how I’ll get it off my chest.

  “There’s our trusty old box,” Kai says, breaking into my thoughts.

  I glance down to see the couples counseling box we dug into yesterday sitting on the table. I’m instantly aware of the powers of that box. I set my eyes on it before looking at Kai. A memory of his heavenly mouth sends a thrill of anticipation through me.

  “I wonder if they took away the cards we already used,” Kai says with a lifted brow.

  My face goes hot. “Probably.”

  “Hmm.” Kai’s face turns thoughtful.

  I could swear that he’s thinking the exact thing I am. Will other cards prompt us to kiss? I can’t help but wish that we were in a place where no prompting was needed. I want Kai to trace over my arms, grip my waist, and put his full and glorious mouth on mine right here and now.

  “I guess we should probably start drawing cards before the twins wake up,” Kai suggests. He rids himself of the baby stuff by plopping the items one by one onto the corner of the couch. I do the same.

  “Do you want to go first, or should I?” he asks.

  I’m about to tell Kai to go ahead when a very realistic coo sounds from overhead. I tilt an ear toward the ceiling as more sounds come. Baby babble. “Maybe there are legitimate babies up there,” I say.

  Kai shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”

  “How close do you think their actual mother is in this moment?” I ask in a whisper. “Since her babies are with perfect strangers.”

  “Oh, she’s close, all right,” Kai says as he comes to a stand. “And she’s scrutinizing every move we make.”

  I tug a lingering burp cloth off my arm. “That’s intimidating.”

  Once we’re both on our feet, Kai laces his long fingers through mine and squeezes my hand. “Don’t be afraid,” he says in a whisper. “I have experience with these things.”

  Good gracious! I know he means the babies, but my body responds like he means something else.

  “Well, good,” I say with a laugh. “Because it’s been years for me.” I try to count back on just how many years it’s been since I babysat for the neighbors. A spark of fear rips through me once I get to ten. It’s been over ten years since I cared for a baby?

  We follow the playful cooing sounds up the stairs, down the hall, and into the room with the cribs. Tiny fingers curl around the edge of the nearest crib. A tuft of soft, brown hair peeks from the top. Kai rushes in confidently, dragging me behind until we spot the round little guy just inside. Yep, they left us with the real thing, all right.

  “Hey there, little man,” Kai says, releasing my hand to reach into the crib. The baby squeals as Kai hoists him onto his hip. The little one looks at me with a pair of big blue eyes and blinks.

  I wave, feeling very inadequate at the moment. “Hi. I’m Nikki.” It’s a stupid thing to say since he can’t be old enough to say much in return. I reach out to rub a finger over the back of his hand. “What’s your name?”

  The baby flinches away from my touch and stares at the hand I rubbed. His bottom lip quivers as he looks back at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Sparks of horror flare hot within me as I spot tears welling there.

  Oh, no. Please don’t say I just made him cry. I haven’t even done anything.

  His pouty mouth bows into a frown. His lip quivers some more. He’s staring at me now, probably wondering if I’m as horrible as he imagines I am.

  “I think you’re going to make him cry,” Kai accuses.

  “You’re the one holding him.” I back up, hoping to break the baby’s teary-eyed gaze, but he continues to stare at me no matter how far I move. Finally, I duck behind the door and hide.

  I sigh as I hear him coo once again. I dodged that disaster.

  With my shoulders crouched, I take a very quiet, very sneaky step away from my hiding spot. I know there’s another twin in here, but since he or she isn’t crying, I don’t feel called to go to the other crib. I clear the door and ready myself to shimmy out of the room when the baby catches sight of me again. I freeze in place.

  His eyes pinch shut. His pouting lips pry wide open. And a wrenching siren pierces the air.

  Suddenly a second cry sounds from the other crib.

  This is why I don’t like babies. This is why I don’t try to make conversation with them at the store or dare even tell a young mother that her baby is cute. I have a face that makes babies cry. That’s all there is.

  “Wow,” Kai says, lifting the little guy off his hip. “You never told me you were the baby whisperer.” He holds the baby before him with straightened arms. “What are you crying about, huh?” Kai’s voice goes playful and goofy, like a cartoon character.

  “What’s that you’re making such a fuss about, baby boy?”

  The crying stops. And suddenly, a huge grin spreads over the baby’s round face.

  “Do you have to be good at everything?” I ask with a headshake. I know I should just be relieved that at least one of us can stop the crying, but I can’t help but be irritated instead. I hurry over to the other crib. This baby looks a lot like the little boy, but she has a bow in her hair. I peer down at her, hesitant to make direct eye contact.

  A smile spreads over her face. Her small hands splay out, then clap closed.

  “At least Hazel likes you,” Kai says.

  “Hazel?” I ask.

  Kai nods. “That’s Hazel, and this is Henry.”

  “Oh,” I say as I realize their names are printed on their onesies. “Okay, Hazel.” I reach into her crib and pick her up. “Go easy on me, will you? I don’t like being the weird lady who makes babies cry.”

  “Too late for that,” Kai mutters.

  I roll my eyes and follow Kai back down the stairs and into our fake front room once more. “Well,” I say as we sink onto the sofa. “Looks like Henry is easing up on me a little.”

  I freeze as Henry spins his head around to look at me, the fear brewing in his eyes a second before he bursts into tears once more.

  The kid really doesn’t like me, and I’m starting to think the feeling is mutual. I widen my eyes at Kai and shrug, hoping I look more innocent than I feel. But seriously, how could all of this crying be my fault?

  A wide grin spreads over Kai’s lips. “Nikki, Nikki, Nikki. What am I going to do with you?”

  I wrestle with the warmth stirring in my heart. Dang, I like Kai. I more than like him. I love him. I never really stopped. And as much as this whole baby thing is clear out of my element, I secretly admire the way he knows his way around a baby’s room, even if he is rubbing it in with his condescending tone.

  I spot something on Kai’s shirt that pulls me from my musings. A spot that’s yellowish-brown and gooey and seeping from Henry’s diaper. Hopefully, Kai knows his way around a changing table too.

  “Hey, Kai?”

  The words barely escape me when Kai’s face scrunches up in disgust. He sniffs and turns his head from one side to the next as if he’s searching for the source of the pungent odor now filling the room.

  “It’s Henry,” I say with a nod.

  K
ai’s eyes go wide. Way wide. Instantly he puts the little guy at arms’ length and shudders. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he might gag.

  He blows out a breath through pursed lips. “That’s okay. It’s okay. We’ve got this. Nikki, can you see if there’s a changing station in their little bedroom up there? If not, we’re going to have to spread one of these blankets over the floor.”

  “Come on, Hazel,” I say, feeling giddy now. “Let’s go see if there’s a changing station.” I hurry back to their room and holler as I see that there is. “Yep. There are diapers and wipes here too. And one of those diaper keepers,” I add as I notice the unique-looking trash bin beside.

  Kai does not move quickly this time. But he does move carefully, keeping little Henry at arms’ length as he steps cautiously into the room at last. “It’s about to drip,” he says, his lips barely moving. Probably trying not to breathe.

  Hazel pats my hand and squeals, smiling as she watches Kai place Henry gently on the table. I secure a box of wipes, rest them on the changing station, and pry open the lid.

  Henry’s flat on his back now. Kai cups a hand over both of the little guy’s feet and reaches for the stack of diapers with the other hand. I watch, genuinely impressed as he snaps the diaper open with the fast flick of his wrist and wiggles it beneath Henry and the soiled diaper.

  “Okay,” he says, reaching for a baby wipe next. “I’m going for it.” Quickly then, Kai goes to work like a skilled surgeon of sorts. Dabbing, wiping, cleaning, and covering the area back up with a flourish.

  “There,” he says after stuffing the soiled diaper and the two-dozen wipes he used into the special bin and sealing it shut.

  I stay close to Henry to make sure he doesn’t roll while Kai hurries over to the small sink to wash up with—count them—six squirts of soap.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” he says while patting his hands dry. “Now, Henry…come to Papa!” Kai looks so pleased with himself that I almost hate to burst his bubble, but somebody has to tell him that he needs to wash more than just his hands.