The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  "Uh…" Talia wasn't sure how to respond. He was dead on.

  "One question." He took a deep breath, and a smile flashed across his face, pushing away the honest reflection that had been there before.

  Talia suddenly wondered how much effort that had taken.

  "If you hate elevators so much, wouldn't it solve your problem to just get an apartment on the first floor instead of the very top?"

  Now she really didn't want to answer, but he understood her elevator problem well enough, maybe he could handle this too. She glanced up at him cautiously as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. "I also hate the feeling of being underneath literal tons of steel, concrete, and living space. It makes me claustrophobic." She couldn't help but cringe at her fears. It sounded a little crazy when added to the elevator thing. In fact, she was suddenly wondering if perhaps there really was something wrong with her.

  They stepped off the lift, and she hurried to the end of the hall, pushing the key into the lock. "You'd think I wouldn't care one bit," she said, hoping to explain. "I mean, I grew up in Phoenix in the middle of a crowded city. It's all I've known. But my heart has always craved open spaces."

  She set the groceries on the counter, and Denver released his bags too.

  "I'm drawn to wild vast country, I think it's my grandfather's fault. He spent his childhood in Ireland, and not a day passed that I didn't hear stories of that rugged, endless land."

  Denver propped his elbow up on the counter, gazing back at her as if he were entranced.

  "Some say the clouds are lower in Ireland, but I say Ireland is only closer to heaven, my grandfather would tell me. He used to go for days as a child, exploring rocks and streams across the countryside by his house. After he died, I stopped hearing about it. My grandmother has more of a love for food than country, but I think I'll never feel completely settled until I see Ireland with my own eyes." Talia brought her gaze cautiously back to Denver. It felt like she'd been talking for ages.

  "I love that. It sounds incredible," he said, still leaning close to her. His gaze wandered across her face in the bit of silence lingering between them.

  Straightening suddenly, he cleared his throat. "You should travel there sometime."

  Talia shrugged her shoulders. "I really should. Now would be perfect, I guess. I'm completely free since—" She stopped suddenly, turning back to him with body tensing. She hadn't meant to bring up Shaun, but her life had been turned upside down because of him. It was a hard subject to stay away from.

  Denver's eyebrows lifted, but he seemed to recognize her abject horror. It was a moment of silence before he finally spoke. "I'm sure it would be incredible." He walked back to the window, gazing out at the view with his arms crossed in front of him. It allowed Talia just enough time to calm herself, which she tried to do a thorough job of in hardly two seconds.

  "I would love to go to Ireland," he continued, glancing at her as she moved next to him, looking out the window as well. "It seems one of those destinations that would officially be off the radar, ya know?" He grinned back at her. "Not many elevators, either."

  She stifled a grin, nudging him with an elbow.

  "But no, in all seriousness"—his voice softened—"if you feel this incredible force telling you to go, and your grandfather began there…" His words faded, his face a somber, thoughtful picture. "It sounds like destiny to me."

  This time when he turned to her, he seemed closer, or maybe he was closer. Maybe he'd taken a step in when she wasn't looking. He felt so connected to her thoughts, so easy to be with. The tension she'd been overcome with before vanished.

  "I was supposed to be married a month ago," she said quietly, watching his face as she spoke and not feeling the self-conscious need to look away. All she could see was acceptance in his eyes. "There were signs that he wasn't ready, but I wasn't paying attention. Not to him, anyway. I just saw what I wanted to see and invented the rest. He chose our wedding day to finally make his move—across the country."

  "Wow, that's…rough. I'm sorry." His arm came around her gently, holding her to his side while they continued watching the horizon. It was such a sweet moment that Talia couldn't resist letting her head lower until it brushed his shoulder softly. But what would his fiancée say if she could see them now? How horrible would she feel to know Talia had not only ruined her relationship but his as well?

  She stepped aside, smiling. "But you've got something great to look forward to. A few more days, and you'll be a married man, right?" It was difficult to keep the cheerful bounce in her voice, but she worked to feel as genuine as possible. She was happy for him, even if she wished it were her that he was marrying.

  "Denver."

  His gaze came back to her at the sound of his name, with an expression on his face she couldn't read. He didn't look completely calm, but he wasn't uncomfortable, either. Talia hoped her question wouldn't be too personal. It came out softly in her apprehension. "How did you know you were right for each other?"

  His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, shifting his weight back. It was more of a struggle than she'd expected, and she watched with confusion surfacing from deep inside her. He rested his hands on his hips and let them drop, finally reaching for her arms. This time, when his gaze met hers, his eyes were tortured, pained with some conflict she had no idea what to make of.

  When he brought one hand to her cheek, her heart raced. It was everything she wanted as he leaned in closer, tilting his head and settling his lips against hers. Her eyes closed in the complete comfort of his kiss.

  With a gasp, she stepped back, holding him at arm's length and swirling with questions. He wasn't the cheating type, she was sure of that. Whatever had compelled him to reach for her had felt more like desperation, like some remedy for the torture that was in his eyes.

  "What's going on?" she asked, keeping her voice soft, hoping to discover what was hiding behind the pain in his eyes.

  He shook his head, looking dazed. "I need to go," he said, stepping away from her cautiously, like she was dangerous. "I'm sorry, I'll call you later."

  He dashed out the door, and Talia listened to his footsteps rushing down the hall. Her heart burned, alight with a mix of euphoria and guilt combined. Whatever was going on with Denver, she intended to find out. Because the way his kiss still tingled on her lips tasted like hope.

  Chapter 8

  He should have told her. Holding her in his arms, it would have been easy. Here she goes and opens up about her life to him, and what does he do?

  His breath released in a single disgusted gust. If there was some chance she hadn't thought their situation was inappropriate before, there was no way she still respected him now.

  It was her sincerity that had broken down every wall, even the ones he didn't know existed. With Liz, there had never been sincerity like that. If only he'd realized it. Looking into Talia's eyes, and hearing the tender outpouring of her struggles, had been a vulnerability he wasn't used to. Not with Liz, and especially not with his father.

  Perhaps that was why his mother had taken Denver and left. An attempt at raising their child outside of the dangers of crude business and, for the most part, she'd succeeded. There was a lot that Denver would never identify with, things that seemed everyday for the businessmen his father hung around. Throwing money away, womanizing at every possible opportunity, even the way they lifted their chins when addressing anyone lower. They were faults Denver would never succumb to. So, in that respect, his mother had won.

  But the chance to have a piece of something so huge as the Caldon company was too great an opportunity. Denver had jumped in with both feet fresh out of college and hadn't looked back. It was incredible. Except now, he finds the perfect woman, only to realize his every step before meeting her was like a trap he'd cleverly laid for himself.

  The night had been excruciatingly long, but somehow, he made it through. There was a desperate hour somewhere in the middle when he'd nearly called her, but gratefully, common sense ha
d won out.

  Worst of all was the knowledge that while she shared her struggles, he'd kept the truth about Liz and his wedding from her. If there was some chance she didn't know about the ridiculous dating reality show he'd let himself get pulled into, he had to tell her quick.

  He rushed through his morning, getting ready in hardly ten minutes only to stare at his phone, paralyzed. It felt impossible to get his fingers to select her name, but he finally managed to type out a quick message. Ignoring the previous day altogether seemed like a good thing to do, at least in a text.

  Can I pick you up for some window-shopping downtown?

  He stared at the screen, watching it send. Waiting for a reply. It was only a few minutes before one came through.

  Sounds good.

  Those two words had his spirits lifting. Even though he knew it would be difficult to tell her the truth, it had to be done. And he had to tell her in person.

  He pulled on his sneakers and grabbed his keys. There was no reason to call for Anthony; the media had found other more important stories, for the time being, leaving his penthouse abandoned of press—thankfully.

  It was already early afternoon, and he hoped as he drove to her apartment that she hadn't had lunch yet. The thought of taking her out somewhere was thrilling, sending his heart spiraling inside his chest.

  But by the time he pulled up alongside her building, he'd lost all the excitement that had been coursing through him, leaving only fear.

  She appeared before he had the chance to get out of his car, emerging from the building in a sleek, flowy summer dress that had him marveling at her anew. He'd met plenty of actresses in his social circle, but this was a real woman on a regular day, outshining them all.

  The moment she opened the door, he spotted a man lugging a camera and microphone in their direction. Talia saw him too. She hopped in and closed the door quickly, and he revved the twin-turbo engine, pulling away with a screech.

  "Whoa." She laughed, securing her seatbelt quickly. "I think we ditched him."

  "Let's just make sure." Denver pushed his foot down, peeling around a corner and down the street. After two more corners, he was hopeful they'd at least outmaneuvered a news van. If he couldn't do that, he didn't deserve a sports car.

  He looked over to catch a wide smile on Talia's face. She had the kind of beauty he wanted to stay wrapped in. Just the sight of her was like a hot drink on a cold day. Or, since they were facing another triple-digit heat wave, a cool drink on a hot day—with ice cubes and an umbrella.

  They reached his favorite part of downtown, and he pulled into a shaded outdoor garage, remembering her aversion to being under buildings. He took a deep breath as they came to a stop, ready to tell her everything, but she hopped out before even glancing at him. The excitement on her face was beautiful.

  "Oh, look at those!" She pointed upwards to brilliantly colored hot-air balloons.

  He stepped from the car, hesitating to close the door, pretty certain this conversation required privacy.

  "Den!" The voice that shouted from the sidewalk was instantly unwelcome, as only his father's friends called him Den. And he was right. Kevin was striding forward, looking from him to Talia and clearly eager to say whatever he'd cooked up in his head.

  "Hey Kevin, how's it going?" Denver hoped to steer the direction away from himself and Talia, but Kevin was locked on the both of them.

  Talia smiled and joined Denver at the front of the car, shaking hands with Kevin.

  "So, you two are getting married, eh?" Kevin winked at Denver. "This is the, uh, fiancée?"

  Denver held a hand up, hoping to silence his eagerness. "Okay, okay, don't blow it," he said gently, hoping not to cause an argument. Kevin was the most temperamental millionaire he'd ever met, a summer breeze one second and a tsunami the next.

  "What, blow it? No way, kid. No way." He laughed and dipped his head at Talia. "I take it you weren't in the reality show? Just got caught up in all this?"

  Denver's heart nearly exploded. He tried to wave off Kevin's loud conversation. "No, she—"

  "Wait, what reality show?" Talia asked, looking between them with a tight smile on her lips, the kind that could vanish as quickly as it came.

  "What reality show? Are you serious?" Kevin sounded like he was going to burst some internal organ with how loud he was laughing. "Well, Denver here thought he'd play a little game before he settled down. Ran auditions, started a show. The lucky lady that won got to become his bride, although I have my suspicions as to the winner. Pretty sure she was picked before the game even started. Am I right, Denver?"

  He could feel Talia's eyes on him, searching his face, but he kept a firm gaze on Kevin. "Stop, Kevin. We just came here to show face for a little while, we don't need your dramatics."

  "Oh, my apologies, boss!"

  Kevin tottered to one side, stumbling over his own feet, and Denver finally realized what the boisterous conversation was all about. He patted a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Go sleep it off," he said, eager to explain things to Talia.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know," Kevin protested, left in an unbalanced, pigeon-toed stance. "I just wanted to warn ya, though. Liz is back in Phoenix." His eyebrows rose. "So, keep your guard up because that'd make for an awkward magazine cover." He snorted and burst into laughter, heartily pleased with himself.

  "Thank you, I appreciate that." Denver's heart throbbed against his ribcage violently, but Kevin seemed to have fulfilled his purpose. He continued down the sidewalk with a wave of his hand, still chuckling to himself.

  "So." Talia crossed her arms in front of her, looking like a sun-kissed muse. "Is there something you wanted to speak with me about?"

  Her tone sounded more curious than upset, and Denver patted the hood of his car. "The sun's getting pretty hot if you want to talk in here? I can explain, it'll only take a few minutes."

  One of her pretty, dark eyebrows lifted, but she pulled the passenger side door open and sat down.

  With a breath, Denver hopped in the car. "Let me first say, the reality show was not my idea." He risked a glance at her, and his brain scrambled. After a moment of putting his thoughts back in order, he vowed not to look at her again and rushed ahead with the rest. "I did orchestrate it so that Liz would win. I'd dated her for a long time in high school, and even though we'd been apart for a while, I still believed she was the one. But once we were engaged, and the plans were set…"

  He struggled, wishing it didn't feel so crushing to admit, like he was confessing to some character flaw she would never be able to accept.

  "She confessed not to have feelings for me, played it up to the camera, but never thought she'd win because of our past. This was just last week, so I thought that if I snuck in there for the setup and showed her how beautiful it all was, she might change her mind. But then I met you, and… It's the one good thing that's come from it all."

  He didn't know what else to say and clamped his mouth shut. Her eyes were vivid against her calm expression.

  "So, did Liz change her mind?" she asked quietly.

  "No… no, she didn't." Denver's gaze combed her face, finding the turn of her lips and kindness in her eyes to be vastly soothing.

  "But there's a wedding planned in two days," she pointed out with a gentle tilt of her head. "What do you plan to do about that? Did you expect me to take her place? Because that would breach an entirely different level of ethics."

  "No, I know it would. I know." Denver waved the idea away, although it didn't sound entirely awful to him. "I just wanted to keep the press busy until I persuaded Liz to return." He took a deep breath. "But she's not."

  "So, you should probably just let everyone know before you're standing there looking dashing in a tux with no one to marry. Although…" Talia's eyes glittered with her unspoken idea, and Denver felt his lip twitch toward a smile at the playfulness on her face. "No one knows who the winner was, right? I mean, they think it's me, but no name has been announced." She pressed her hands to her hips,
lifting her chin defiantly. "What if we just did it? Gave them what they wanted. Get married on Friday and then to heck with them after that."

  Denver wasn't sure he was hearing her correctly. His vision had gone a little hazy, and his ears were ringing. "You want to get married?" he asked, not believing the words himself. Was she crazy?

  A laugh bubbled from her lips. "Well, not for real, obviously! We hardly know each other."

  "Yeah," He laughed in a rather pathetic agreement, his heart sinking. Part of him was elated at the idea, but she was right. What did they know about each other?

  "I can't believe you'd be okay with that." He smiled, waiting for her to change her mind while still feeling thrilled at the thought. Getting married would mean he wouldn't have to cancel everything in a huge, humiliating display. No news announcements and press conferences. And then, when things had quieted down, they could simply end their marriage and go on with their lives.

  "Why not?" She giggled again. "It would be one heck of a party." Her eyes were alight with a vibrance he couldn't look away from.

  "Why not?" He laughed. "Friday, it is."

  Chapter 9

  Talia spent the morning coaxing her long, dark hair into an intricate tumble of waves and spirals, while eyeing the dress in the corner. She'd arrived at the wedding yacht extra early and locked herself in the designated bride's room. If she was going to do the whole fake wedding thing, she planned to enjoy it fully.

  Giggles overtook her at the strangest moments as she imagined marrying Denver. The thrill it would be to play this part for the entire wedding party! And more especially, the media. They'd been assassins since the magazine cover, determined to catch her at her least flattering moments. But today she'd be sure to glitter like a goddess.

  She smoothed a perfect line of shimmering gold across her eyelid. Her lips were shining with a blush pink and the energy coursing through her left her cheeks a natural rose tint. Lifting the dress from its place on a vine-and-leaf patterned chair, she slipped her clothes off and held it over her head. The gown fell silky and snug around her. It was a beautiful design. But then she made the mistake of turning around.