Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

Rave shaped the last croissant he was preparing for the morning's breakfast, singing a cappella the song, My Way.

  Jillian leaned on the counter and stared into space, forgetting the cantaloupe she had been slicing. Rave snapped his fingers in front of her face.

  She frowned at him. He’d finished his entertainment and his task.

  "Jilly, girl, I'm not one to pry—"

  "Oh, yes, you are," she retorted, feigning displeasure. "You always pry into what doesn't concern you."

  "Well, since your inheritance has been restored, haven't you become Miss Rich Bit—"

  Jillian's cuff on the arm interrupted him.

  "Anyway," he continued, unperturbed. "Everything here concerns me. Don't you know that by now, girl?” He guided her to the table, then grabbed two cups from the cupboard for coffee for the two of them. "Even guys who appear to be departing instead of arriving in the early morning hours from the apartment of a certain nameless innkeeper."

  Taking the cup of coffee from him, Jillian narrowed her eyes at him. "What? Do you employ spies or don't you ever sleep?" She would let nothing mar her happiness, not even Rave's ribbing. He had been there for an hour, and already they’d discussed the meeting with her mother and father again, and he'd told her that Melba was already having morning sickness and vowing to do him bodily harm for the condition she was in. Sooner or later, the subject of Scott had to be broached. She gazed at the door leading to her apartment, wondering when Timmy would awaken.

  Rave slid into the chair next to her, his grinning features wicked and expectant. "Jilly, must you be so smug? Girl, quit stalling and tell me what's going on before I positively get the vapors from curiosity?"

  His tone was both mischievous and imploring, and Jillian couldn't help but laugh.

  "Raveno, you're too nosy for your own good.

  "Well, did you or didn't you?"

  "I wonder what you mean, Rave?" Jillian teased. "Did I or didn't I what?"

  "Jilly!"

  Jillian laughed harder. "Not that it's any of your business, but Scott did spend the night with me.” She grabbed a handful of his t-shirt. Nose to nose, she glared at him. "If this goes any further than this room, I will saw your tongue out with an aluminum file!"

  "Ouch." Rave winced and pulled free of her hold. "Girl, you're ruthless. Too brutal."

  "Promise me," Jillian hissed.

  "You have my word, Jilly. As long as you give me the 411 about Kayla, all information about your night of uncontrolled passion will come only from you."

  "Do temper your imagination and never mind my passion."

  "Jillian?"

  With a guilty flush, Jillian glanced toward her doorway to see Timmy standing there.

  "Hey, big guy.” Rave snorted and eyed Jillian. "In a few minutes, I'll be putting breakfast out. Nice, hot, buttered bread—"

  "I want Cap’n Crunch." Timmy pulled out a chair next to Jillian and sat. "Where's Scott?"

  Jillian slipped her arm around his small waist. "He had to go to Slidell again today, Timmy, but he'll be home by noon."

  "Is today Saturday?" Timmy asked.

  "All day," Rave answered. "You had a free day off from school for two days, but today is quite legal. Soooo...until Scott returns would you like to hang out at the zoo with me today?"

  "Oh boy!” Then with a chastened look, he turned to Jillian for approval. "Can I, Jillian?"

  Feeling very much like a parent, Jillian smiled. Rave winked at her, and she knew his intention was to give her and Scott some time alone, when he returned from Slidell.

  "You certainly may," she said. "You'll be on your best behavior, of course?"

  "Of course he will, Jilly," Rave said with exasperation. "Timmy and I are pals. With us, any way we behave is our best behavior! Finish your breakfast, pal, while Jilly and I serve the guests."

  Promising to return before dusk, Rave and Timmy left at midmorning, leaving Jillian to tidy up her apartment. During the entire time, her thoughts kept straying to the lovemaking between her and Scott. They'd touched and kissed and caressed and joined almost the entire night. To say she was exhausted was an understatement.

  She couldn't wait to be as exhausted again, and for the exact same reason.

  After the small amount of cleaning was completed, she stretched out on the sofa to relax and fell fast asleep within minutes. Which is how Scott found her when he returned.

  Stooping next to her, Scott gazed at her beautiful, sleeping face, hoping she would say yes to his question.

  With the moment of truth almost near to hand, he shook her awake. Her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes flew opened. She smiled and sat up.

  "Hi," she said shyly. "I must have fallen asleep. When did you get back?"

  Scott bent and kissed her, their tongues meeting, mating. "Umm," he murmured. "What was the question?"

  "I don't remember," Jillian said throatily, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Scott's body responded immediately. "Where's Timmy?"

  "With Rave.” She kissed the pulse point of his neck.

  "Then I'm positive he's in good hands," Scott responded, kissing her hungrily.

  "Excellent hands."

  Soon, they were surrendering to their bodies' desires. In the afterglow, they redressed and went to the kitchen and had a small lunch.

  "You never did tell me how your meeting with your mother went."

  "Scott, you won't believe what happened!”

  Jillian explained her good fortune and Scott's rich laughter filled the air.

  "What's funny?" Jillian asked, puzzled.

  "Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing at all. But I would like to show you something.” He stood from the table. "Come with me, Miss Riley."

  They walked into the scorching late May afternoon. In front of the inn sat the big BMW Scott had been in when he dropped Timmy off. She looked at him in question as he opened the door for her.

  "Do you like it?" he asked when he slid into the driver's side.

  "Wouldn't mind having one."

  Scott nodded as he turned the key in the ignition. The motor purred to life, and he checked the traffic then moved the car away from the curb. "Traded my old one in two weeks ago for her. She's a beauty, isn't she?"

  "Does she have a name?"

  "Hmm. How about Jillian's car," he said casually. "That's if you like it.” He smiled at the shock on her face. "Stop asking questions for now. You'll have answers soon enough."

  Barely able to contain herself, Jillian was vastly relieved when they pulled into Beau Chene Estates, a wealthy subdivision just outside Orleans Parish, twenty minutes later. Driving to nearly the end of a very long cul-de-sac, Scott pulled into the circular driveway of a very imposing two-story red brick house. Impatiens in a multitude of colors filled the flower boxes on the windows of the lower floor.

  She got out and waited for him to lock the doors. Stopping before her, he gave her a lavish bow.

  "Welcome to my home, Miss Riley."

  After the night on the yacht, Jillian suspected Scott was wealthy. But...but—

  Whoa!

  "This is where you live?"

  Scott smiled proudly. "Like it?"

  "It's...it's beautiful," Jillian said. "I had no idea."

  "How could you when I never told you? Of course, the yacht should have given you a clue."

  Jillian laughed. "It did," she admitted.

  "Come.” He took her hand and led her to the stained glass mahogany entrance door. Unlocking the locks, he pushed the door open. "Please, explore the rest of the house."

  From the cathedral ceilings, marble fireplaces, hardwood floors, crystal chandeliers, and indoor heated swimming pool, the mansion was a study of grandeur. Of course, there were glimpses of Scott's down home earthiness. The roomy kitchen, for example, had an old-fashioned eating booth in front of the bay window that overlooked the private tennis court. And the huge den had a well-worn leather recliner. The double doors led to the patio, where flowers bloomed in a nearby garden i
n colorful profusion.

  "I think we should talk."

  "You're right," Scott agreed. "Do you really like my house?"

  "Of course. Who wouldn't? It's just gorgeous, Scott."

  "Good. Before I show you upstairs there's something I would like to ask you."

  Scott took her hand into his own as Jillian looked at him in question. He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, then dropped to his knees, and took both her hands in his. Knowing what was coming next, Jillian choked back a sob. She never thought they would reach this point.

  "Jillian, sweetheart, I love you. I fell so quickly and so hard, I will never recover. The only medicine is for you to marry me. Will you marry me, my love?"

  Jillian drew in a weepy breath. "Put that way, you make it hard for a girl to refuse. Especially since she loves you as much as I do. Yes, Scott, I would be honored to become your wife."

  Scott stood and hauled her against his chest. Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her until she swayed in his arms.

  "Let me show you the master bedroom," he croaked, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.

  Jillian hardly noticed the decor in the bedroom. Her mind focused only on Scott, who began kissing her all over again as soon as they stepped into the sun-lit room.

  Her heart flip-flopped inside her chest and her blood curled hot and slow through her veins. Her direction befuddled, she helped Scott undress her, then aided him in disrobing.

  They made love urgently, furiously, and then later, slow and tender, until they were sated, until their love became one emotion between them, and their souls fused. Later, after showering together, they went to the kitchen in search of a snack. Scott insisted Jillian sit at the booth with the view of his tennis court.

  "Scott, we have to talk."

  "Talk away," Scott said, hard at work in his preparations of hot Spam sandwiches.

  "When we're married...I mean...I-I won't give up the inn."

  "And give up all those assorted nuts you call friends? I wouldn't expect you to. But I do expect you to allow your full time help to earn their living."

  Jillian laughed. "Okay, that'll work."

  "Good. Anything else?"

  "Uh, well yeah.” Jillian drummed her fingers on the table. "I had no idea you were so wealthy. Between us, we have a lot of money. I...Would you mind if I chose a charity to make an annual gift to?"

  Scott shrugged. "My money is your money to do with as you please. Just don't break us in your quest to save others."

  "Never. Daddy said he's going to help me invest some of my...."

  Her voice trailed off at Scott's questioning look. "Do you mind? I think it'll go a long way in soothing any lingering hurt he has."

  "I understand perfectly, Jillian.” Scott set a plate of sandwiches on the table. "What else?"

  “Were you and Kayla ever involved?”

  “Kayla? Involved with me?” Scott seemed astonished at Jillian’s question. “Why would you think that?”

  Jillian wouldn’t tell him about the conversation she’d had with Kayla or the impression that there was something between them, that Kayla had deliberately conveyed. “I’ve loved you almost since the day we met, Scott. When I talked to Kayla, I guess I was overtaken by paranoia and jealousy.”

  Scott laughed. “At one time, I thought Kayla had a thing for me, but I realized that was my male ego.”

  With a smile, Jillian realized how dead on the money Scott had been.

  “Anything else?”

  "Yes. Why do you let Timmy call you by your name?"

  Scott frowned as he bit into the toasted wheat bread loaded with Spam, lettuce, tomatoes, and mayonnaise. "What else would he call me?"

  Jillian glanced heavenward, beseeching strength. "How about dad?"

  "I'm not his father, Jillian, so why should he call me dad?"

  "You're not Timmy's father?" Jillian asked in surprise. She narrowed her eyes. "You're not Timmy's father?"

  "No."

  "Then his mother wasn't your wife?"

  "Darling, what are you talking about? I've never been married. I told you that. Timmy's mother was also my mother. Didn't you know?"

  "Not that part," Jillian answered, feeling a little foolish at the moment. "You never told me Timmy was your little brother. I always thought he was your son. For starters, you always call him ‘son’."

  "I know. I feel like his father. Since my dad died, I am the only father he’s known, after all. But I would never let my son...our son call me by my name.” Scott wolfed down another sandwich then stood. "You're not hungry?" he asked, when he realized she hadn't taken a sandwich.

  "Not for Spam," she said primly, and smiled at the unintended double entendre. "I detest the stuff."

  "I do believe you have a touch of a snob in you, Miss Riley.” He walked to the counter and opened a cabinet.

  Jillian waved a dismissing hand. "What about the wedding ring you always wore?"

  "It was my father's. Which, if it's okay with you, I would like to use as my own ring for our wedding."

  "Oh Scott, how wonderfully sentimental you are. Of course, it's okay with me."

  "I almost forgot," Scott said mischievously. He beckoned her to him. When she was standing next to him, he placed a large, pear-shaped diamond on her finger. "Now it's official."

  "It's beautiful," Jillian breathed.

  "Do you think Raveno would take care of Timmy for a couple of weeks for us? And also the inn? Do you think Melba would mind?"

  "For our honeymoon?" Jillian asked with anticipation.

  "Yes. But also because you need a rest. We'll get married as soon as possible and leave right after that."

  "My mother would simply die if she couldn't plan something spectacular for me," Jillian said, feeling quite giddy. "And Marley and Rave would as well."

  "Well, I don't wish to offend my soon-to-be mother-in-law, but she's in Europe at the moment. She can do all the planning she wants when she returns. We can have a huge wedding to celebrate our first anniversary. As for Marley and Rave, they have three days.” He gave her a quick kiss.

  "Let's call Mother and Daddy."

  At the news, Camille cried and Taylor congratulated them both. After Jillian was informed that she had a brand new wardrobe on the way to her to make up for lost time, her parents promised to pick out a spectacular wedding present that would be waiting for them when they returned from their honeymoon. With a last warning that their first year wedding anniversary would make every society paper in the country, they said their goodbyes.

  "You're quite lucky to have them back in your life," Scott commented. "They sound as if they missed you dreadfully."

  "They missed bossing me and subjecting me to obscene wealth," Jillian said with a resigned sigh. "But I missed being fussed over."

  "So not only do you have your parents to fuss over you again. You now have me, and Timmy, and Rave, and Marley. You greedy wench!"

  Jillian laughed, basking in the glow of her happiness.

  "Isn't it time for you to see to your guests for the evening meal, Innkeeper?"

  "Oh, you hard taskmaster," Jillian teased. "Lead me to my beloved salt mines."

  "No sooner said than done. Let's go and get Timmy and break the news to Rave and Marley, who are always there on Saturdays."

  Her heart tripping inside, Jillian followed Scott outside the house to the car. This was a man who'd offered her everything and who finally opened her heart to trust and love again.

  This was the man she would gladly spend the rest of her life with.

  In the mood for Kat’s gritty MC romance?

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  Newsletter

  About the Author

  Kathryn C. Kelly finished chemotherapy in November 2016. She has Li-Fraumeni Syndrome, which increases her risk of developing other cancers. When not visiting doctors and taking care of her family, she is happily at work on her next book.

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from Kathryn C. Kelly

  https://www.katkelwriter.com

  Fallen Sno

  By Olivia Marie

  Olivia Marie

  FALLEN SNO

  Everyone has a breaking point…

  * * *

  Sno had been pushed around her whole life. When her father died and she was left with an evil stepmother, she's quickly left to fend for herself. But what happened when you were pushed too far? When the only way to save yourself was to become everything you were against? Meeting up with seven unlikely men, she formed her own family and fought for what she wanted.

  Prologue

  “Sno, come back here. You can’t outrun this problem. Let us help you.”

  The voice faded off and I tried harder to tune it out altogether. He couldn’t get me to stop running and I wasn’t sorry for what I had done. Seeing the crimson stream flow from her throat was the most satisfying thing I had ever done. It topped any fancy food or drink I had ever had, the rush of a good game or reading a scary book. Watching the life drain from her, and knowing it was by my hands, was even better than sex.

  Where he was wrong was on the part I was outrunning what I had done. What he failed to realize was I was outrunning my past and jetting straight to my future. One I hoped to have with him but was fine if it wasn’t. I learned a long time ago that the only person I could depend on was me. Nothing I had ever been told or anything I thought I knew was what I thought it was. People I loved died at the hands of others I loved. She might have been the villain, but she wasn’t working alone.

  Neither was I. I had the strength of seven souls attached to my face to give me power and courage I hadn’t known before. They rode along on the spikes that shot out from my face when I hunted her like the monster she was.

  When people had enough, they snapped. You couldn’t blame them for trying to make any of it right again. They would do anything to make any of it make sense and when it didn’t, they tried to cope anyway they could.