Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

by Violet Duke

  Maddie’s jaw dropped and a wave of emotion swept over her, a wave so big and sudden and fierce it was hard to tell exactly what she was feeling, only that she was feeling so much of it the backs of her eyes began to sting.

  “That’s right, I said the ‘L’ word,” Jamison pushed on with a hard swallow. “And I meant it, and I don’t regret saying it because I thought…”

  “You thought what?” Maddie asked, forcing the words out past the tightness gripping her throat.

  Jamison shrugged. “I thought you were feeling it, too.”

  “I am feeling it, too,” Maddie said in a rush, the words releasing the hard knot that had been forming in the center of her chest.

  Suddenly, Maddie realized she hadn’t been afraid of Jamison falling in love with her as much as she’d been afraid of how hard and fast she was falling for him. He meant so much to her already. The moments she shared with Jamison had quickly become her favorite moments of the day. The thought of letting him go in two or three weeks, or even two or three months, was unthinkable. In only a week, she felt more addicted to the way Jamison made her feel—in bed and out of it—than she had felt after years with Serge.

  It was a sobering—and completely terrifying—realization, one that left her feeling tied up in knots.

  “But I’m scared,” she confessed, tears rising in her eyes when Jamison reached out to cup her cheek in his hand.

  “Why?” he asked with a pained expression, as if the sight of her upset was enough to make him hurt, too.

  “Because I know you so well in some ways, but in others I don’t know you at all.” She pulled in a deep breath, blinking hard enough to send a tear rushing down her cheek. “And I want to trust that you’re falling for me and everything is as great as it seems to be, but the last time I did that the man I loved lied and deceived me for years and then left me for someone else.”

  “That was his mistake, Maddie,” Jamison said, tenderly rubbing the tear into her skin. “He was obviously a very confused man, but that had nothing to do with you.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Maddie shrugged, shame and embarrassment making her drop her eyes to Jamison’s chest. “Maybe he picked me on purpose, because he could tell I was too stupid to know what real love felt like. Or real passion, anyway.”

  Jamison brought his other hand to her face, urging her chin up until she lifted her eyes to his. “You are not stupid, and you’re the most passionate woman I’ve ever met. You are smart and sweet and beautiful and funny, Mad, and I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than with you.”

  Maddie swallowed, fear and hope coursing through her veins, making her feel as hopped up as she did after a triple espresso. “I want to believe you.”

  “Then believe me, Maddie,” he said. “I’ve loved you since I was a little kid. Sure, it was a different kind of love then, but I think a part of me always knew you were special.”

  “Is that why you put a slug down my dress instead of Naomi’s when you played Evil Lord Underpants?” Maddie asked, her sniff becoming a laugh when Jamison blushed.

  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “I can’t believe you’re blushing,” she said, chuckling. “Or that you used to run around with tighty whities on your head.”

  “Okay,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  Maddie giggled. “And now you’re blushing harder. Your cheeks are bright red.”

  “I’m sorry about the slug,” Jamison said, holding up his hands at his sides. “Guess that’s the only way I knew how to express my affection.”

  Maddie lifted a wry brow. “My mom always did say that the boys who pull your pigtails are the ones who have the biggest crushes.”

  “Sounds pretty dead-on.” Jamison’s hands drifted to her shoulders, skimming down her arms until her hands were engulfed in his much larger ones. “So can we start this day over? Go back to having fun again?”

  Maddie shook her head. “I don’t want to start this day over. I’m glad we talked.”

  “Me too,” Jamison said, squeezing her hands lightly.

  “So let’s start from right here,” she said. “We’ll keep being honest with each other, and I’ll do my best to stop being scared. I don’t want to ruin this.”

  “You’re not going to ruin it,” Jamison said. “I won’t let you. I’ll keep hanging out, leaving whiskey shots on your landing until you come around.”

  Maddie grinned. “I can think of something I like better than whiskey shots.” She stepped closer to him and lifted her chin, bringing her lips within inches of Jamison’s, pulling the intoxicating scent of him deep into her lungs, finally daring to hope it was a smell it was okay to get attached to.

  “Like what?” Jamison asked, his lips hovering above hers, close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

  “Like you and me in my bed.” Maddie pushed on tiptoe to press her lips to his, only to have Jamison pull just out of reach.

  “I like that better than whiskey shots, too.” A smile curved his lips. “But just because we want a bed instead of whiskey doesn’t mean we have to skip the second part of my surprise.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened as she realized what he meant. “The blindfold?”

  “The blindfold,” Jamison confirmed, lids dropping to half-mast in a look so sexy it made Maddie shiver. “I had some plans for you and that blindfold.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Maddie’s tongue slipped out to dampen her lips as Jamison’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, making her breath rush out when she felt him growing harder against her hip. “What kind of plans?”

  “The kind of plans that involve a remote piece of property my aunt owns outside of town,” he said, palms smoothing down to cup her bottom. “And a tent, and a sleeping bag, and a few toys I packed that we didn’t have along on our last camping trip.”

  At the word “toys” Maddie’s eyes grew even wider. She and Jamison had been uninhibited in bed together, but so far they’d kept things fairly vanilla—which had been fine with Maddie.

  As a chef, she knew sometimes you didn’t need a bunch of fancy sauces or syrups or sugary icing. Sometimes, a real quality dessert was best standing on its own. She believed in keeping pound cake plain, her cheesecake un-topped, and her flourless chocolate cake free of fudge or exotic balsamic drizzles.

  Until this point in her life, however, she’d never really considered whether she felt the same way about her sex…

  “You up for a little adventure?” Jamison asked.

  Maddie pressed her lips together, trying to discern whether the racing of her heart was a sign of dread or excitement. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I mean, I know I was teasing you about blindfolds and bondage at the beach, but I’ve never really… This would be the first time I’ve done anything even a little kinky.”

  Jamison’s grin grew wicked around the edges. “Are you asking me to be gentle?”

  Maddie narrowed her eyes at him, fighting a grin. “This isn’t funny. And yes, I would want you to be gentle.” She shifted closer, letting her hand slide down to cup the strong muscles of his ass through his jeans before she continued in a husky voice. “Until I say I don’t want you to be gentle anymore.”

  Jamison’s breath rushed out with a curse. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

  Maddie bit her lip. She was already tingling all over and she and Jamison hadn’t even kissed yet. “And you make me want to play with toys.”

  Jamison’s eyes darkened. “I’m clear to grab the blindfold?â€�
�

  Maddie nodded. “As long as you promise these toys aren’t going to hurt, or leave scars, or go anywhere near the forbidden escape hatch of doom.”

  Jamison cocked his head. “The forbidden…” Understanding dawned and Jamison threw back his head and laughed before scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around until she giggled.

  He planted a rough kiss on her cheek.

  “What was that for?” she asked, still laughing as he set her back on her feet.

  “For being you,” he said, eyes twinkling. “And for being the only person I know who could make anal sex sound cute.”

  Maddie’s face scrunched like she’d bitten into a lemon. “Oh god, don’t even say it. It’s so gross I can’t handle it Jamison, seriously.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any designs on your forbidden escape hatch.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “At least not tonight.”

  Maddie shot him a narrow look. “Or any other night.”

  Jamison shrugged, dimple popping as he fought a smile. “We’ll take things slow, but there’s fun to be had with the escape hatch.”

  Maddie made a gagging sound.

  “Like butt plugs,” Jamison said, grinning when Maddie stuck her tongue out and did a full body shudder. “Or light anal play.”

  “Stop! I’m getting ready to be so grossed out I will never recover my frisky feelings,” Maddie threatened. “Tread carefully, Mr. Hansen.”

  Jamison nodded, obviously trying to look contrite though his eyes were still sparkling. “My apologies, Ms. Whitehouse. I promise not to offend your delicate sensibilities again tonight.”

  “That’s better,” Maddie said, smiling as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her slowly and sweetly, but with enough passion to send her frisky feelings surging back with a vengeance.

  “Though someday I’m going to lay my claim on that beautiful ass,” he whispered against her mouth in a voice so sexy Maddie could only sigh and shake her head.

  “You’re impossible,” she said.

  “I try.” He grinned until their teeth bumped together through their lips as he kissed her again. They kissed until Maddie’s head spun and her heart raced and every cell in her body felt like the lit end of a sparkler.

  And then Jamison ran inside to grab the blindfold, Maddie locked up the bakery, and Jamison drove her out into the country with all the windows down. As the wind rushed through her hair and the sweet smell of impending summer swept through her head, leaving her breathless with excitement, Maddie decided a night like this was worth fighting through her fear.

  What was fear compared to kisses that made your bones melt and a man who turned your insides to mush with one long, lingering look.

  CHAPTER TEN

  One Week Later

  A WOLF WHISTLE GREETED Jamison as he stepped out of his car in front of Summerville Catholic Church on the evening of the christening, making him spin to find the source of the sound, half-hoping it was Maddie, though he knew it wouldn’t be. She still wanted to keep their relationship a secret until after the wedding—despite the fact that they had both fallen so hard it made an avalanche look tame by comparison.

  But Jamison wasn’t worried that they were moving too fast.

  He wasn’t worried about a damned thing. He was happier than he’d been in years. He finally understood why Jake had that goofy, half-wasted look on his face all the time. Love packed a punch like a fifth of Jack Daniels, except better—pure intoxication, without the hangover. It was Jamison’s new drug of choice, and he didn’t plan on getting on the wagon any time soon.

  “Looking good, J,” Faith said with another whistle as she crossed the parking lot toward him, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “What did you do to yourself?”

  Jamison glanced down at his new suit a little selfconsciously. “New suit? Shave?”

  Faith narrowed her eyes. “No. It’s something more than that. You look different.”

  Jamison shrugged. “Maybe you’re finally realizing how damned sexy I am.”

  Faith snorted. “Gross. You’re like my brother. I’d rather kiss a goat.”

  “I’d rather be kissed by a goat.” Jamison grinned as he slung an arm around Faith’s shoulders and gave her a good, hard hug. “How was work?”

  “Good, but that weird guy called for you again and still wouldn’t leave his name. Did you ever figure out who he might be?”

  Jamison shook his head. “Guess it could be one of Dad’s old buddies from the department. Sometimes they call looking for me or Jake.”

  “Or maybe whatever hoochie you’re dating has an angry ex,” Faith said, making Jamison laugh at the thought of Maddie’s gay ex-husband suddenly developing a jealous streak.

  “Not a chance,” he said. “And she’s not a hoochie.”

  Faith perked up, blonde brows lifting. “Oh, yeah? Well who is she? When are we going to meet this mystery woman who makes your voice sound all smooshy?”

  “Soon,” Jamison said vaguely, grinning despite himself. “Where’s your better half?”

  “Mick’s already inside,” Faith said, falling in beside him as he started toward the front of the church. “He came early to help Naomi hang ribbons or something while Maddie closed up the bakery.”

  Just the mention of Maddie’s name made Jamison’s chest warmer and his smile take up more real estate on his face.

  “So what did you get them?” Faith asked, starting up the stairs leading to the massive wooden doors. “I got bedding to go with the crib Mick made, but now I’m worried that’s lame.”

  Jamison pulled a face. “It’s not lame. Besides, Jake and Naomi don’t care about the gifts. They already have everything they ever wanted.”

  Faith shot him a strange look.

  “What?” he asked, holding the door open for her.

  “Nothing, you just sound so happy for them.”

  “I am happy for them. And for you,” Jamison said, punching her lightly on the arm as they entered the dim front hall of the church, a place that always smelled like a mix between a library and his aunt’s moldy drawing room, but in a comforting kind of way. “I’m glad you found someone who loves you so much.”

  Faith grinned a smile that definitely had a hint of goofy, love-buzz in it, though she was better at hiding it than Jake. “Yeah. He’s so great. I love the shit out of him.”

  Jamison laughed. “Cursing in church. Nice.”

  Faith shrugged as they made their way past a group of older women clustered around the entrance and into the left side of the nave. “It’s a Catholic Church. All you have to do is confess your sins if you’re Catholic, right? And then everything is all good?”

  “Something like that,” Jamison said, pausing to dip his fingertips into the font of holy water near the door and cross himself. “But I haven’t been to confession much since my aunt stopped forcing me and Jake to come to mass every Saturday night in high school.”

  Faith clucked her tongue as they moved deeper into the church, past stained glass windows that painted the wood floor in rainbow colors as the sun streamed through them. “That’s a shame. Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

  “Then maybe you should convert,” Jamison said, lowering his voice as they moved toward the front of the church where most of the family was already gathered in the small pews near the ceremonial baptismal font.

  Jamison scanned the assembled company, but Maddie wasn’t there. He would have spotted her instantly. She stood out in a crowd. When Maddie was in a room, he couldn’t seem to look anywhere but
directly at her.

  “I am converting,” Faith said, surprising him. “I mean, I was raised Assembly of God, but it wasn’t really my jam, and Mick’s Catholic so…”

  “So, what?” He glanced down at her profile, wondering why she sounded so cagey all of a sudden.

  She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s going to be a surprise for, you know…later.”

  “How much later?” he asked.

  “After the wedding later,” Faith said. “So keep your lips zipped.”

  “I don’t know anything, so how can I—”

  “Exactly.” She nudged him in the side with an elbow before hurrying ahead of him to slide into the second pew back from the font, beside Mick, who immediately turned and put his arm around her, drawing her close.

  Jamison smiled. Apparently he and Maddie weren’t the only ones keeping secrets until after Jake and Naomi’s wedding. He had an idea what Faith and Mick’s surprise might be—there were only so many things in life that dictated a change of religious affiliation—and an engagement would certainly help take the heat off of him and Maddie. The announcement that they were dating would pale in comparison to the twenty-somethings deciding to get married after dating for a mere five months.

  Pleasantly uplifted by the thought of sliding in under the radar, Jamison circled around to the front pew. Jake stood up to give him a quick hug, while Naomi smiled up at him from where she sat with Noelle sleeping in her arms next to the aging Father Seamus, who looked perilously close to sleep himself.

  The baby was wearing an antique christening gown that hung far past her curled toes and a tiny crocheted cap, her blue eyes closed and her tiny fists thrown up on either side of her head as she slept. With her brown curls and wide, cupid-bow mouth, Noelle was already a beauty, and looked like she could be Naomi’s biological daughter.

  Or Maddie’s.