Reality of Love Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Marika Ray

  I smiled, knowing I was on the verge of everything, and placed the platter on the coffee table in front of her. Her gaze dropped and she burst into laughter at my presentation. In a large heart shape were over two dozen small powder-covered donuts. I’d been stocking her favorite donut snacks in my cupboard since day one. Tonight, they spelled out my love for her.

  She went to grab one and I stopped her. “Nuh-uh. Not that one.” I pointed to the one at the bottom tip of the heart. “This one.”

  That eyebrow creeped up again, but she picked up the one I pointed to, stopping its descent to her mouth, frozen in her tracks.

  Because on the platter, beneath her donut, was a ring.

  A big gold ring with a huge square diamond winking at us.

  I dropped to my knee and picked up the ring to offer it up to her. I bit back a smile seeing her frozen with her mouth open and a donut hanging out mid-air.

  “Elle Fierro. You’ve lit my heart on fire since the moment I saw you in your underwear in that dressing room, telling me what an asshole I was. I can’t imagine doing life without you. So I ask you to trust me, to promise to stick by my side, to live this life together. Mi corazón es en fuego para ti. Will you marry me?”

  She finally unfroze and set the donut back on the table, before looking me in the eye. “Rule number nine: when you ask me to marry you, the answer will always be yes.” She paused, her eyes misting over and her face softening. “Yes, Austin, I will marry you.” Then she flung her arms around my neck and we held each other, neither one of us wanting to let go long enough to put the ring on her finger.

  “Wait, does this mean you’re expecting me to repeatedly ask you to marry me? ’Cause I’m not sure I can work up the nerve to do that again,” Austin whispered in my ear.

  “I won’t make you do it again if you promise to never butcher that sentence again,” she whispered back.

  I pulled back to frown at her. “What? You didn’t like that? I said my heart is on fire for you.”

  She nodded gravely. “Yes, I know that’s what you tried to say, but maybe stick to English, no?”

  I pursed my lips. “So, ¿no vamos a joder?”

  She let a giggle slip out. “No, mi amor. Vamos a hacer el amor.”

  So we did.

  Forever.

  Keep reading for Mom-Com, book #2 in the Reality of Love series!

  Mom-Com

  Copyright © 2019 by Marika Ray

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition: May 23, 2019

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Dedication

  To every single mom and single dad out there…

  I salute you.

  Mom-Com

  Can the single mom next door be the answer to his science experiment?

  Jameson

  When my eight-year-old son starts asking question about love, I decide to use a magazine article on how to woo a woman to prove, once and for all, that romantic love doesn’t exist. Companionship, habit, mild fondness, sure, but not that thing called love. I have my hypothesis ready and I’m dead set on experimenting on my new neighbor, the single mom who does the weirdest things.

  But my experiment goes awry in unexplainable ways...

  Lily-Marie

  When dating apps fail me spectacularly, I decide to go old school and use a 1950s magazine I dug up at a yard sale to help find Mr. Right.

  Fifty Ways to Find a Husband.

  Sounds legit.

  Problem is, my new neighbor, Mr. Science Professor, keeps blocking my attempts. And keeps losing his shirt. How does a book nerd have so many muscles anyway? Thing is, my kids like his son and we start spending a lot of time together, which is distracting me from my ultimate goal: to find a husband to sweep me off my feet and be a good father to my kids.

  Things get comical quick when my best friend records everything in her daily newspaper column. I can’t help but wonder if single moms like me can actually catch a husband. Or will this Mom-Com go viral as an epic train wreck?

  Book two in the Reality of Love series.

  1

  Lily-Marie

  I clicked the door shut behind me, wishing I could slam it instead and get out some of the frustration bubbling inside me. With my two kids asleep in their beds—dear God, please say they were asleep—a soft click would have to do. That’s why moms drank wine. It was silent, tasty, and calmed the daily frustrations that chafed almost as badly as the Spanx trying to hold in my pooch-y belly those same kids were responsible for.

  We couldn’t have tantrums, so we drank. Sue me.

  “Gabby?” I whisper-yelled into my house.

  My lifelong best friend was babysitting for me tonight so I could “enjoy” a night out with a guy I’d connected with on Kinder, the latest dating app that promised “solid relationships with just one click!” More like false promises and nightmares. Bejeezus, why were people so weird? Was it too much to ask to be swept off one’s feet by a dashing prince? Although, I guess that wasn’t Kinder’s fault. Maybe I should blame the company I happened to work for. I mean, they kind of sold me—even as a little girl—on the idea of a prince saving me with one perfect kiss.

  “Hey, how did it go?” Gabby came around the corner, rubbing her eyes. She checked the watch on her wrist, frowning.

  I hung my jacket up on the hook by the door and moved farther into the house.

  “Yeah, it’s early, I know. Sorry to interrupt your nap. It was a lukewarm date right up until he whipped out his phone over the appetizers and showed me—and I’m not kidding you—at least thirty dick pics. Apparently, there’s an art form for taking just the right one, did you know?” Her jaw dropped open and I continued. That joy needed to be spread. “Because, as I learned, lighting, angle, level of excitement, the temperature in the room. Those are all things that can positively or negatively affect the end result. Which. He. Showed. Me.”

  My eyes glazed over and I full-body shivered just recalling the things I’d seen. Gabby snapped her mouth closed and hustled around me to the kitchen, pulling down a bottle of wine from the top cabinet that had seen better days. At some point I’d get around to refacing my cabinets. Tonight was not that day.

  “I know what this calls for. Tonight’s a merlot night.” She pulled out two glasses and got to work on the cork.

  I sank into a bar stool and pushed the kids’ stack of graded homework out of the way. “God bless you.” My shoes, the ones I only pulled out for dates because they killed my feet, were kicked off in a frenzy. And then, only because we were such good friends and I had enough dirt on her to last a lifetime, I reached up under my dress and peeled off the Spanx so I could breathe.

  “Oh, that’s nice...” I whispered, sitting back down and accepting the glass she held out to me. The first sip went down the hatch and I could feel the layer of ick he’d left on me with his detailed pictures sliding off my skin, hopefully never to be seen again.

  “That’s truly the most disgusting thing I’ve heard recently. And I just babysat your eight-year-old son, who thought it was fun to make slime and smear it all over his skin like he was a mutant lizard shedding his winter coat.” Gabby sat on the stool next to me, her long black hair always so perfect, even though she’d just woken up after babysitting the hellion spawn of mine I loved so dearly.

  I cringed. “Ah, conned you into making slime again, huh?”

  She shrugged. “It made him happy and you know I can’t say no to my godchildren.” She raised her glass and we clinked them together before taking another healthy swig. “So, fill me in. How have the other dates gone?”

  Gabby was a hotshot columnist for the LA Times, writing a modern-day advice column, similar to Ann Landers, but with a younger perspectiv
e. She was busy all the time, but still found time to encourage—nag—me about going on dates with men I met online.

  I’d been single for two years, but was just now feeling like dating men was something I was ready for. I’d only been with my ex, having dated him all through high school and most of college before we had kids together. We never officially got married, and that was something that had always bothered me. Call me old-fashioned, but I really wanted to wear a white dress and show off my sparkling diamond engagement ring. Which, if these recent dates were any indication, wouldn’t be happening any time soon. My cabinets would be getting that remodel before I was a Mrs.

  “Oh God, Gabby. It’s so bad out there. Seriously. Count yourself lucky you have a man already.” I rubbed my forehead, smearing the makeup I’d so carefully applied just a few hours before. She didn’t say anything, so I kept spewing, the words leaking out uncensored. This was what I needed. Time with my bestie. Total therapy. “So, I went on that mid-day coffee date last week and I should have known better. He never showed. And here’s the kicker: his mom showed up to tell me he couldn’t make it.”

  Gabby drew her head back sharply. “No!”

  I slapped a hand down on the counter and immediately winced at the noise it made, hurrying on in a whisper. “Yes! She said he’d wrecked her car that morning and she took away his cell phone as punishment. Then she proceeded to tell me how wonderful he normally is and that I should call him in two days when she gave him back his cell phone.”

  Gabby’s giggle turned into a full-out belly laugh. She abandoned her wine glass on the counter and bent over, muffling her laugh with her knees.

  “It’s not funny!” I whisper-yelled at the top of her head. “Besides, you’re going to want to hear what happened with my lunch date.”

  Her head whipped up and she swiped the tears from her wide eyes. “It gets worse?”

  I took the time to top off my glass before answering. She laughed at me. She could wait a minute or two before I told her more. “As I was saying, I had a lunch date last week too. I showed up, he showed up. He was just as attractive as his picture, so things were looking good, right? Next thing I know, he’s telling me all about his last fight with his ex-girlfriend. And I mean details! Like his favorite red sundress she was wearing, and the way she called him an asshole under her breath, which she knows he hates. By the time my salad showed up, I was ready to shovel it down and get the hell out of there.”

  “Wow, Lil, that’s crazy. I wish I could say that’s abnormal, but there are some crazy-ass people out there.” Gabby looked at me sympathetically. She got a lot of crazies writing in and asking her for advice on bizarre life situations, so I knew she understood.

  “But that’s not even the end of it.” I placed my glass on the counter. I needed two hands for this. “By the time I ate my salad, he’d let the cat out of the bag that he and his girlfriend were still together. They hadn’t actually broken up. I was out on a lunch date helping a guy cheat on his girlfriend.”

  “Oh, honey...” Gabby looked a little green. That was an area we’d always agreed on: cheating was never okay. Not ever.

  “But wait!” I stopped talking and burst out laughing. “Oh my God! I sound like an infomercial. ‘But wait, there’s more!’” Gabby laughed with me and then I finished it. “So, naturally, I hop up like my chair’s on fire and head out the door. He follows me all the way to my car and tries to hug me. I push him off me, but his hand is stuck in my purse. The fucker was trying to pickpocket me on our cheating date!”

  Gabby jumped off the stool and looked ready to fight the dude right there on the spot. “What did you do?”

  “I slapped his hand away from my purse, kicked him in the nuts, and drove off.”

  We bumped fists and settled back down on our stools to sip our wine and calm down.

  “I feel highly compelled to write about this. You know that, right?” Gabby looked at me, pleading with her dark eyes.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but my pathetic dating life can’t be in your column. My fragile ego can’t handle it.”

  “Even if it’s anonymous?”

  “Even if it’s anonymous. I’d know, Gabby.” I sighed. “After Shawn, I just don’t know if I can handle more of a spotlight on my singlehood, you know?”

  Her hand rubbed my back. “I know. I promise I won’t write anything. The last thing I want to do is discourage you from getting back out there. Shawn wasn’t your forever, but your forever is out there somewhere waiting for you. I just know it.” She pulled me into a side hug. “I’m proud of you, Lil.”

  “Thanks, Gabriella. I’m proud of me for trying too. When Shawn left, I was shocked. I thought we’d be together forever. I never envisioned being a single mom and trying to date thirtysomethings who were passed over or left behind. They all have this desperation that clings to them like a bad odor.” Oh jeez, I needed to put down the wine before I got any more poetic.

  “What I’m trying to say is I just don’t think this app thing is going to work. The kind of guy I’m looking for doesn’t live with his mama and he surely doesn’t need to pickpocket me to pay his rent. I need a man who sweeps me off my feet and only has eyes for me. He’ll take one look at me and my children and want to put a big rock on my finger. And if he’s really awesome, he’ll snuggle with me and watch Disney princess movies. Is that too much to ask?”

  Gabby went surprisingly serious on me, even though I handed her the perfect opportunity to tease me about my princess obsession. “No, that’s not too much to ask. In fact, I think we should have always been demanding that. Maybe our problem has always been not asking for enough.” Before I could examine that nugget of wisdom or ask how things were going with Hew, her boyfriend, she hopped off the stool and started gathering her things. “Gotta go, girlie. Got words to write and hours to toss and turn before my alarm goes off.”

  I made a mental note to sit her down soon and see if things were rocky with her and Hewitt. They’d been together for years now, maybe not blissfully happy, but steady nonetheless. She hadn’t said anything outright, but my best friend radar was beeping. Something wasn’t right with her and I intended to get to the bottom of it.

  I walked her out and made sure she got on the road safe. Then I locked up, turned out lights, and headed up to kiss my babies goodnight. They wouldn’t remember, but I couldn’t help myself. They gave me gray hairs, but I loved them fiercely. Sleep wouldn’t come if I didn’t check on them and give them the kisses they wouldn’t normally stand still for long enough when they were awake.

  Clark was flat on his back, arms and legs spread like he’d squeezed every last drop of life out of the day before flopping back on his mattress and conking out. I pulled the sheets from under his legs and covered him up, my movements not even stirring him. He was still so small at eight years old, even as he tried to act like the man of the house with his father gone. Sure, he saw his dad every other weekend, but in between those times, he was trying to act older. Why, I didn’t know, but I hoped he stayed a kid for as long as he could.

  I tiptoed into Milly’s room, skipping over the wood board that creaked. She slept light and was hard to creep in on. There’d already been some near misses on Christmas Eve when I’d been trying to get her presents under the tree from Santa and she’d heard me.

  My beautiful girl had big, blond curls that reminded me of myself at that age. I’d learned to control them with products, but on a five-year-old, they were adorable and wild. I brushed the barest of kisses on her forehead and backed away slowly.

  It was moments like these that made everything right in my world. I had my kids. I had my health. Everything would be fine.

  In my own bedroom, I put on my cotton pajama pants and ratty, old tank top before snuggling under the covers and clicking on the TV with the remote. I hit play and smiled as the opening credits to Sleeping Beauty floated softly through the speakers. I was the proud owner of every Disney princess movie on DVD. Some women needed Ambien to
sleep. I needed happy ever afters and Prince Charming.

  The melodic notes of “I Wonder” flowed over me as Aurora sang to the forest animals. My eyes began to blink shut as I commiserated with her. She wondered where her someone was and so did I.

  Fumbling with the remote, I finally shut it off and drifted to sleep, visions of princesses and handsome princes filling my head. Except in my dreams, one of the handsome men was for little, old me. He picked me up and swung me around at a fancy ball, my children on the sidelines smiling from ear to ear. A diamond ring sat on my finger as he pulled me in for a kiss...

  2

  Jameson

  “Dad! Where are you?”

  I heard Stein’s muffled voice as I was digging through yet another box of clothing, looking for my favorite sweater.

  “I’m in the closet!” I shouted back.

  I saw an edge of forest green and grabbed it, pulling it out from the bottom, spilling clothes out onto the ground around me. Moving wasn’t for the faint of heart, as I was finding out. I couldn’t find a damn thing since we’d moved two days ago. Maybe it had to do with the way I labeled the boxes. Instead of writing what was in each one, I’d simply put which room it was to go into. Great on moving day, not so great when you were staring at twenty identical boxes in your bedroom and wondering where your favorite sweater was on Monday morning, the first day of school.

  “I can’t find my lunch sack, Dad.” Stein was now right behind me, his little face scrunched up comically, like his missing lunch bag was the worst thing that could happen. But I guess when you’re eight and it’s your first day of second grade at a new school, having everything perfect was paramount.