The Mitchell Brothers Collection: A Feel-Good Romance Box Set

by Jasmin Miller

  The room is a standard one but spacious. A queen-sized bed sits in the middle of the room with a little seating arrangement by the window. What makes it easily recognizable as Monica’s room though are the clothes everywhere. When she was living with me, it drove me crazy, and I thought I’d be relieved when she took her chaos with her, but I was dead wrong. I think I enjoyed it for about two days before I finally realized I even missed that about her.

  “Of course. Go shower already. I’ll be right here.”

  Without really thinking about it, I walk over to the bed and plop down on it. I watch Monica as she grabs some clothes and hands me the room service menu.

  “I’ll be quick. Be good.”

  “I always am.” I can’t help myself and wink at her, more than just a little proud when the slightest blush becomes visible on her cheeks.

  Monica must be really eager to talk to me, since she comes back out of the bathroom only a minute after I hang up the phone. Or she might just be starving.

  Her wet hair falls loosely around her shoulders, her face free of the exaggerated stage makeup, and I take a moment to just stare at her.

  So beautiful.

  I pat the spot next to me on the comforter, my heart giving an extra thump when she comes over and sits down. So close now. Energy buzzing between us. The urge to tackle her and show her how much she means to me with my body is so strong, it’s hard to control.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  After taking a deep breath, she nods but keeps avoiding my gaze. “You know how much I love dancing, right? It has always been my everything, pretty much the existence of my life. It’s what I worked for since I was little, and I’ve always enjoyed the hell out of it. After the accident, I was devastated by the possibility that I might never dance again. So much that it was almost paralyzing, holding me prisoner inside my own body, keeping me from getting back to what was always second nature to me. Until you helped me. You’re the reason I was able to fulfill my dream of having my own solo. It’s every dancer’s dream, especially on a big, international tour like this one, that is sold out in almost every city. This can make my career for the rest of my life.”

  She stops and takes a few rapid breaths, looking at me, her eyes filled with so much emotion I want to fall to my knees in front of her and beg her to be mine, worries and all.

  Nothing she just said is really news though, so I silently urge her to continue.

  “I still want all of this, mostly at least, but now, it feels different. Everything feels different—because of you.”

  “Me?” What is she trying to say? My heart can’t seem to decide if it should speed up or skip beats all together.

  “Yes, you. I thought this was the right way to deal with things, but I was wrong. Tonight didn’t feel half as good as it should have because I couldn’t share it with you.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles. What do you mean? I’m right here.” I feel like I’m missing a significant piece in order to figure this out.

  “Sorry.” She brushes the hair away from her face and brings her hands up to mine instead, gently tracing the outline of my jaw before going up to my cheeks.

  Definitely skipping heartbeats now.

  She seems to be at war with herself, her mouth opening and closing several times before she drops her hands. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Never mind.”

  Wait. What?

  A wave of nausea overcomes me, but I push it away. Not right now.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The look she gives me then breaks my heart a little.

  “I’ve missed you way more than I ever thought I could miss anyone. I’ve been miserable these last few weeks without you. Everything is less fun when I can’t experience it with you.” Deep breath. “The first time I realized what was going on was the day before I left Brooksville. I was going to tell you, but then I heard you on the phone with Hudson.”

  She pauses while my brain does the fastest memory search in all of history, pulling up short.

  “You two were talking about me. You...you said you didn’t want me to stay when I was about to tell you that I...that I—”

  Understanding infiltrates my whole system, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. I want to shake her to get her to say the rest of her sentence, while I’m also frustrated how a stupid misunderstanding could come in the way of this. Of us. I don’t blame her though; it did make me look bad.

  When it doesn’t seem like she’s going to say another word, I put my finger under her chin to gently lift it. Her soft gaze meets mine and my limbs tingle with hope, a lighthearted floating sensation overtaking me.

  The conviction of being able to fix this makes me want to fist-pump the air.

  “Finish that sentence, so I can say it back.”

  Her eyes widen as her gasp echoes through the room.

  A sudden fire flares in her eyes, and she clears her throat. “I’m in love with you and probably have been for way longer than I realized. I was so focused on my misery and then the dancing, that I put up my blinders, but I love you so much. I’m going to prove to you that dance isn’t the most important, or only, thing in my life. You’re right there at the very top of the list too, and I could never forgive myself for missing my chance with you.”

  My brain is stuck on one thing, and one thing only. “Say that again.”

  The corners of her mouth lift up the tiniest bit, but it’s enough for me to see the sass slowly returning. “What exactly do you want me to say again?”

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I shake my head.

  “You know what.” I tilt my head and lock my eyes with hers, equally challenging and begging her.

  Monica wouldn’t be Monica though if she didn’t do the unexpected. Instead of more sass, she leans in and stops a mere breath from my face, her hands balancing on my upper thighs. “I love you, Gabe. I love everything about you, and life is immensely less fun without you.”

  The second the words are out of her mouth, I grip her by the arms and crush her to me. I fall back, her body landing on mine, fast and hard, every delicious curve of her molding perfectly to mine. My lips are on hers, and I’m not sure where I end and she begins.

  We blend together, and despite our differences, we complement each other, knowing on a very deep elemental level what the other one needs.

  After what feels like hours, I pull back, both of us breathing hard. Monica doesn’t go far though, her forehead leaning against mine, our noses almost touching. I bend toward her again, needing to feel her soft lips once more. Then I push her back tenderly because I need to see her eyes for those next few words. “The phone conversation with Hudson was about me not wanting to hold you back. I wanted you to live your dream, but I’ve waited for as long as I could to come for what’s mine, because I love you too.”

  This time, it’s Monica who tackles me for more kisses, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck like she never wants to let me go again.

  Reality and the conviction of having this woman in my life for good—forever, if it’s up to me—is slowly sinking in, my heart doing somersaults on end. “We’ll figure things out. The best thing about my job is that I can write anywhere. So, if you want me, I’ll be by your side. What you did out there tonight, your performance, it was...there are no actual words to do it justice. It was almost otherworldly, absolutely phenomenal, like you, and I can’t wait to watch you stun the world with your beautiful talent over and over again.”

  The happy squeal that comes out of Monica as she tries to squeeze the life out of me is answer enough as I hug her back, fully intending on following this woman anywhere, if that means we can be together.

  I nudge her throat with my nose. “You and me, Princess?”

  “You and me. A princess needs her Prince Charming, after all.”

  Thirty-Four

  Monica

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  The crowd ahead of us finally thins out as we make our way down the
escalator, to the lower level of the airport and the baggage claim. I head straight to carousel number four where our luggage from Paris is supposed to be waiting for us.

  Gabe walks next to me, his stride strong and rhythmic, and I know he’s just as eager as I am to be done with this trip. Transatlantic trips are never as much fun as they sound. At least we got lucky and landed earlier than planned.

  A hand on my arm stops me, and I look over at Gabe to see what’s going on. With a grin on his tired face, he nods his chin toward the left of us, where a row of glass windows frame the terminal.

  Several people are huddled together, some of them drawing on big pieces of cardboard, all of them either engrossed in their writing or talking to each other.

  The laugh bubbles out of my mouth before I can stop it, making several of the heads turn my way.

  Charlie is the first to overcome the shock, her eyes still wide, crinkling at the corners as her smile grows bigger. She looks tired, but gosh, it’s so good to see her. My gaze immediately flicks down to her chest, where her arms are tightly wrapped around a tiny blanketed bundle.

  My heart expands, already anticipating to finally see her new baby boy for the first time in real life and not just on the phone or laptop screen.

  I’m not sure who moves toward whom first, but in less than thirty seconds, Charlie has one arm around me, squeezing me as tightly as she can without crushing her precious baby.

  “I’m so happy you’re here.” Her words fill a void in my heart that’s been getting bigger and bigger the longer I was gone from Brooksville.

  “Me too.” I squeeze her one more time before pulling back, mirroring her big, goofy smile.

  My dance team and I are at the halfway point of our tour, having just finished our European leg before we continue with our North American part over the next three months.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to miss anyone as much as I’ve missed all of these guys.

  Thankfully, Gabe’s been with me most of the time, turning the ache in my chest to a low simmer. He charms me around the clock with his never-ending attention and love confessions, on top of being my biggest cheerleader. He comes to almost all of my shows, despite me telling him more than once already that it must be getting boring.

  He insists on loving it though, and not wanting to miss one moment of the “magic,” as he likes to call it.

  And who am I to resist this man?

  The sweetest, most precious squeak in the history of squeaks pulls my attention away from my best friend and down to her arms. Jaxon moves around for a moment before settling in again, happily sucking on a pacifier in his mouth.

  “Look at him. He’s so beautiful.” I can’t pry my eyes off his perfect little face. Eyes closed, tiny button nose, and light-pink lips steadily sucking away. His brown hair matches Hudson’s, who I can hear talking to Gabe. I think, at least. I don’t feel like anything is more important right now than staring some more at this precious human being.

  “Do you want to hold him?”

  That gets my attention, and my gaze snaps up to Charlie’s. Her eyes are filled with wonder and excitement, completely overshadowing the dark circles under her eyes.

  “Really?”

  She nods, already getting ready to place Jaxon in my waiting arms.

  “Hi, little monkey.” Unable to resist, I lean in closer, inhaling his intoxicating scent, and listening to his little gurgles and sucking noises.

  Something makes me look up, straight into Gabe’s eyes, his gaze already on me.

  There’s heat in them but also longing.

  Seeing me with a baby probably just intensifies his baby hunger, but that’s okay. We’ve had several long conversations about our future together, and we agreed to wait a few more years before we settle down. It’s something that works for both of us and allows me to do a few more tours before deepening my roots in Brooksville and joining the academy as an instructor, much to Dahlia’s delight.

  Lifting up Jaxon so I can snuggle him into my shoulder, I’m startled when Charlie shrieks before slapping her hand over her mouth. The damage has already been done though—Jaxon’s awake, spitting out his binky before crying into my shoulder.

  This is, without a doubt, the saddest sound I’ve ever heard.

  Charlie takes him back, shushing him, and magically pulling another binky out of her jacket pocket to put in his mouth. She keeps sending me silent glares, her frown threatening to leave a permanent mark on her face.

  Did I hurt Jaxon without noticing?

  Her chin lifts as she looks down at my hand, her mouth open wide enough to catch some flies. “What’s that?”

  Oooooh, that.

  It takes a moment for my heart to slow down.

  I catch my lip between my teeth to keep the grin at bay that’s threatening to pop out. “Gabe and I got engaged.”

  “Mo, you proposed to Gabe?” Rose’s eyes twinkle with glee as she laughs loudly, everyone’s eyes on us.

  “Yup.” I nod, raising my champagne glass to everyone. “I sure did.”

  There are hoots, claps, shouts, and laughter all around the table. All Mitchells are present, and Charlie keeps sending me mixed looks that switch back and forth between annoyance and joy, while Mira bounces on my lap with the excitement only a toddler can have—naturally not having a clue why everyone is so cheerful, but joining in regardless.

  After taking a sip from my glass, I put it down on the table and give Mira a big hug. She’s been the center of my attention ever since we got to Charlie and Hudson’s place—after we convinced everyone we really needed a shower first to wash off our travel stink, but that we’d catch up with them soon and explain.

  “I love it.” Rose slaps one hand on the table, nearly spilling some of her champagne on her sister. “It’s so...you.”

  Dahlia, the more reserved of the two—who also finally got out of her cast a few weeks ago—smiles at me. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

  Both Gabe and I say, “Thank you,” in perfect sync.

  Pretty obvious we’re already pros at this relationship thing.

  Even though we’ve only been a couple for three months, it feels so much longer than that. Probably because we’ve been living together for such a long time now, and being officially together hasn’t really changed much between us, except the love confessions and lots of whispered sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

  Which I have become addicted to. Even though the reason for that might just be the fact that Gabe is my weakness. He’s like my own personal version of catnip, including the urge to rub myself all over him.

  After Gabe came to New York and we cleared the air between us, he went back home to take care of some things and to pack a suitcase. He’s been with me ever since, except for the occasional flight to book signings or important meetings.

  Having him by my side has made dancing a lot more enjoyable for me again too, putting all the missing puzzle pieces back together. Everyone keeps telling me I’ve never danced as well as I do now. And I have to agree. I’ve never felt as confident or powerful about dancing before either, always missing that special something without realizing what it was.

  It’s also been a rather eye-opening experience, showing me I don’t have to choose between my love for dancing and Gabe. That there is more than enough room for both in my life, and my heart. That I’m capable of loving someone else as much as I love dancing.

  That realization was such a game changer for me, not to mention a relief, that it knocked the wind out of me for a bit.

  Charlie clears her throat next to me. “So, when’s the wedding?”

  I blink a few times, trying to shift my gears back to the present. “I’m not sure yet. We haven’t really talked about it. I wanted to elope at this beautiful chateau in France, but you have to reside there for at least forty days to be able to get legally married. Since that wasn’t in the cards, and of course, we would’ve missed all of you guys way too much, we thought we’d just wai
t and see. Sometime next year, maybe once our schedules free up some more?”

  My best friend sits up a little straighter. “You have nothing in mind at all for the wedding itself?”

  “Nope. I don’t need anything big, C. You know that. Something small and simple would be totally enough for me.”

  She nods, understanding. She’s always been the one with the big dream wedding, wanting a princess dress and whatnot. Whereas most of my life, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever get married.

  I turn to Gabe when he yawns loudly.

  He gives me a chagrined look. “Sorry. Jet lag’s already catching up with me. I think I’m ready to pass out on the table soon. It just hit me out of nowhere.”

  My hand moves over to his thigh, squeezing it lightly. “I hear you. My eyes feel like they have fifty-pound weights on them too.”

  Even though there’s nothing special or exciting about this exchange, I’m lost in Gabe’s gaze. I often catch myself staring at him, unable to believe someone as kind, gentle, and brilliant as him loves me back with the same fierceness I love him.

  He’s not perfect, and both his writing and my dancing sometimes come in the way of us spending as much time together as we’d like, but he’s perfect to me.

  He is the calm to my crazy, and we balance each other out.

  My mouth feels suddenly dry, and when his gaze drops to my lips, my whole body tingles.

  In anticipation of what’s to come once we get back home.

  And the outlook on what life has in store for us.

  One thing is for sure. This princess has found her Prince Charming.

  My own happily ever after.

  Epilogue

  Gabe

  The curtain on the big stage closes, everyone in the audience immediately jumping to their feet, applauding with big smiles on their faces. Monica is next to me in the front row—at the edge of her seat throughout the whole performance, as close to the stage as possible. She wears the biggest grin I’ve seen on her in a long time while tears slowly run down her face.