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

by Violet Duke

  *

  WHEN WE FINALLY reach the subway platform, disappointment looms. Brad pauses for a moment and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. I’m not sure if he’s nervous or deep in thought; I can’t put my finger on it.

  “Can I ask you a question?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Are you and Dane exclusive?”

  I have to resist the urge to roll on the ground, grab my stomach, and laugh hysterically. I’m not sure what we are, but we’re definitely not exclusive. “No, we’re not.”

  The curve of a smile touches his lips before he speaks. “Good. So…I was wondering if you’d like to go out tomorrow night?”

  “Go out? You mean like on a date?” I emphasize the last word with a grin.

  Brad shifts his feet. “Yup, a date.” His smile is endearing and I want to accept immediately.

  The problem is, I don’t do dates. Mindless screwing, yeah, that’s what I do. But I can’t tell him that, he’ll think I’m crazy. The thing is, as much as I keep telling myself that, the thought of going on a date with Brad does something to me. “Well, I really don’t do dates.”

  Brad looks at me with a strange expression and I suddenly want to eat my words. “What do you mean you don’t do dates? Aren’t you doing dates with Dane?”

  No actually, I’m just doing Dane. “Not exactly.” Now I’m really embarrassed. I can’t imagine what he thinks of me.

  “Okay. So then we’ll do what we always do. Two friends just hanging out together. I mean, we are good friends, aren’t we?”

  It’s not what I usually do, but that works. “Yes. We are. And yes, I’d like to hang out.”

  The full-on dimpled smile I get after I say yes nearly makes me combust on the sidewalk. “Great! So until tomorrow then?”

  “Yes. Until tomorrow.” He lifts my hands to his face and places a single kiss on the inside of each of my palms.

  As the subway doors close, I’m squealing inside. The earth has suddenly shifted on its axis.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I’M IN THE MIDDLE of an amazing dream, full of giant dimples attacking my mouth, when my phone rings the next morning and wakes me up, which stinks because it’s Sunday and I could’ve slept in. When I see who it is, I debate hitting ignore and going back to my fantasy because it’s much better than the reality. The one with my mom. I suck in a breath and pick up the phone. “Hi, Mom,” I exhale.

  Her voice sounds as chipper as ever. “Hi, dear.”

  “What’s up, Mom?” I try to sound somewhat interested.

  “Well, as luck would have it, I’m coming to New York City two weeks from this Saturday for Fashion Week.”

  Who’s luck would that be? I’d rather win the lottery. My nonexistent excitement is blaring. “Great.”

  “I thought we could have lunch together.”

  “Okay. Well, you know I’d ask you to stay here but…”

  “Oh no, I certainly can’t stay in that tiny space you call an apartment. I’m staying at the Waldorf. It’s going to be a busy weekend, but I’m hoping we can manage to squeeze in lunch.”

  She always knows how to win me over with her kind words. “Sure, Mom.”

  “I’ll call you when I get in.”

  “Okay, Mom.” As soon as I hang up, I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I’m rummaging through the medicine cabinet for anything resembling Tums, or even Valium at this point, when I hear the front door latch click. “I’m in the bathroom, Fran!”

  “What are you doing, Gabby? I have to get ready for my date with Kyle,” she whines. “He’s taking me to the Botanical Gardens.”

  “I’m looking for some Tums,” I say, diving into the box of crap under the sink. Nothing’s there either.

  “Let me guess. Patricia Willis is coming to visit.”

  “Ding, ding, ding. You’ve won! You’re going on an all-expense paid solo date with my mom.”

  Fran cackles, then moves past me to turn on the shower. “So when is crazy coming?”

  “Two weeks, so I have time to mentally prepare. Not to see me, of course. It’s for Fashion Week; I’m just a detour.”

  “Well, you can handle that, can’t you? At least it’ll be a quick visit.”

  Fran strips down, reminding me that she wants to shower.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I agree, then sigh, because I’m not so sure everything will be fine.

  She turns the water on and hops in the shower. “So tell me what the hell happened last night.”

  My phone buzzes and I see it’s a text from Brad. I can’t help but smile.

  Brad: Good morning friend

  Me: I see your sense of humor is in full swing this morning

  Brad: :) It’s tomorrow, you know

  Me: Yeah?

  Brad: We have a date…cough, cough. I mean, we’re hanging out tonight

  Me: Yup, hanging out

  Brad: See you tonight. I’ll pick you up at 6

  Me: See you then

  Brad: See you tonight friend

  Fran sticks her head out from behind the shower curtain and eyes me curiously. “What was that about?”

  I let out a long, contented sigh. A night with Brad will make me forget everything else, including my Mom’s visit. “I’m hanging out with Brad tonight.”

  “Oh, you mean you have a date with Brad?” she coos, then goes back to washing her hair.

  “NO! I say adamantly. I didn’t say that.”

  Fran pokes her face out again, her sudsy hair dripping on the floor. “You didn’t have to, your eyes gave you away. Gabby’s got a date, Gabby’s got a date,” she sings playfully. “So, back to telling me about last night.”

  A swoony sigh escapes. “The night ended up to be pretty spectacular.”

  She makes a seductive voice. “You spent the night with Dane?”

  A silly grin spreads over my face like melted butter. Picking up my lip gloss off the counter, I apply two coats then check my pucker in the mirror. “I actually spent the rest of the night with Brad.”

  “What the?” Her head weaves its way around the shower curtain and I hear her mutter, “Shit!” and then, “grab me a towel, I’ve got soap in my eyes.”

  I throw her a towel and pucker my lips a few more times. “Yup, the night was spectacular.”

  “I’m waiting here, Gabby…”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Fran, I don’t mean I had sex with him!”

  I can hear her disappointment. “Oh, my condolences then.”

  I playfully punch her arm and push her back into the shower. “We danced together…right outside of Bloomingdale’s.”

  “You did what?!”

  “I just told you. We danced outside Bloomingdale’s. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done, really.”

  Fran makes a gagging sound. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it sounds pretty romantic.”

  “Fran, you have no idea.” My body starts swaying back and forth on the wet floor as I hear Jeff Buckley in my head and remember the feel of Brad’s arms around me.

  “I love seeing that smile on your face,” she says.

  It feels good to me, too.

  *

  MY BODY IS TINGLING with excitement and my brain is crackling with nervousness. I can hardly contain myself and realize I haven’t been this excited since…well, in a long time. Which reminds me that I need to call Dane. Instead of doing the grownup thing and calling him, I chicken out and send him a text instead, to let him know I won’t see hi
m tonight, but will make a point of it tomorrow. He seemed less than thrilled, but honestly right now I only care about one thing. That one thing will be here in twenty-five minutes, so I need to get my ass in gear.

  I decide on my snug skinny jeans and a blue sleeveless silk blouse that Fran once said brings out my eyes. Yup, that’ll do. I curl my hair so it falls in soft waves down over my shoulders, and keep my makeup light, as always. A little shimmery blush, soft eyeliner, and another touch of gloss to my already ruby lips. I pull on a pair of strappy black sandals and I’m ready to go. Now all I need is my hot date. I mean my friend.

  Only ten minutes to go and I can’t sit still. Fran’s been out with Kyle for hours, so I have nobody to talk to. My head is swimming with thoughts I can’t control, my heart is thumping loudly, and it feels like tiny fireflies are lighting up my heart. I can’t wait to see Brad. I don’t know what it is, but being around him always makes me smile. I’m starting to sweat just thinking about him, so I open a window, but quickly close it when a blast of muggy August air forces its way in. Not a good thing if I want to have perfect date hair. I organize the magazines on the coffee table, straighten the pictures on the wall, then sit down on the couch and wait.

  The doorbell rings and startles me from my wandering mind. I open the door and the moment I see him I relax. A huge, bashful smile spreads across his face. He’s so damn handsome. His silky hair is still wet from a shower and he looks great in dark jeans and a cream long-sleeved shirt.

  From the way he’s gazing at me, I can tell he likes the view. “You look beautiful,” he says with genuine appreciation, chocolate brown eyes smiling at me.

  I fiddle with my belt loops. “You look pretty stunning yourself.”

  He blushes and brings his hand down gently to lace his fingers through mine. “I couldn’t wait to see you tonight.”

  My pale skin turns pink and I smile. “So where are we going?”

  He grins mischievously. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  When we get down to street level, I see a car sitting at the curb. Who owns a freaking car in the city? Well, I guess Brad does. It’s a grey Audi S4, with the license plate “WE BREW” on the back. Cute. I figure whatever it is we’re doing, we’re most likely leaving the city to do it. I’m kind of excited, I haven’t left the city that much since we moved here.

  An air of confidence proceeds him as he opens my door. “I can see the wheels spinning up there, Gabby, but trust me you won’t figure it out.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I have special powers as well.”

  “Really?” he says with raised eyebrows.

  I wish it was x-ray vision. “Remember? I’m indecisive. I’m also pretty persistent. If I wanted, I could coax that secret right out of you.”

  When we’re buckled in, Brad turns to me. “So what kind of music do you want to listen to?”

  Keep surprising me. “I like all kinds of music. Alternative rock, jazz, blues, r&b. Oooh, do you have any Lifehouse?”

  Brad grins, clicks the CD and I hear the croon of a guitar and then John Mayer’s voice. Another one of my favorites. Looking out the window, watching all the buildings go by in flecks of light, my face forms a hopeful smile. Brad reaches across the seat and places his hand in mine. His skin is warm and soft; it feels good. I notice he’s wearing the bracelet I gave him and it makes me smile. My bracelet’s also hugging my wrist, and I roll my fingers over the words celebrate courage. Maybe I need to find mine.

  We sit quietly until Brad breaks the silence. “Do you want to play I Spy?”

  Nearly breaking out into a fit of laughter, I shoot back, “I Spy? I haven’t played that since I was a kid.”

  “You scared?” He tries to look intimidating, but it’s a lost cause. He’s too darn cute.

  “Nope, I’m not afraid of anything. “ At least not right now.

  Brad starts “I spy with my little eye something that is white and bright.”

  “That’s easy,” I respond. “The moon.”

  “You’re good at this,” he chuckles.

  “My turn,” I call out excitedly. “I spy with my little eye something that is tall and pointed with bright lights.”

  Deep in thought, he thrums his index finger against his mouth, and guesses, “The Toys ‘R’ Us store?”

  I make a loud beeping noise. “Sorry, but thanks for playing.”

  “I give up,” he says, sounding a bit defeated.

  “You give up? You only guessed once!”

  He lets out that loud throaty laugh. “What can I say? I have a low tolerance for games. Back to me!”

  He’s staring straight ahead, but I feel his eyes on me. I like the way it feels.

  “I spy with my little eye, something that is so beautiful, it leaves me breathless.”

  Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and answer, “the Manhattan skyline?” When I turn my head to look at him, I see serious brown eyes staring back at me.

  “Nope…you.”

  His words melt my heart. Pulling my hand to his lips, he softly kisses the inside of my palm, and I feel those familiar goosebumps multiply. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I start biting the inside of my lip and fiddling with the door handle.

  When I look around, it appears that we’re fairly close to Central Park. I still have absolutely no idea what we’re doing. Brad finds a parking space, grabs my hand, and leads me toward the park.

  “Okay, so what are we doing?”

  With a relaxed smile, he says, “patience, grasshopper.”

  I can’t help but laugh and hold up two fingers. “I’ve got two words for you. Corn and ball.”

  “That’s three.” His dimple comes out to say hello.

  I playfully flick his arm with my finger, and he loops his pinky through mine. We make our way through a clearing in the park and a sign comes into view. The Loeb Boathouse. “What is this place?”

  He chuckles. “The word ‘boathouse’ doesn’t give it away?”

  I squeeze his arm and he yelps.

  “Just come on,” he says, tugging on my arm, pings of excitement radiating off his fingers.

  The early evening sun is bouncing off the water, sparkling brilliantly. Wow. As I scan our surroundings, I notice what appears to be a gondola in a far corner of the water. I look over at Brad and a squeal of excitement jumps from my mouth and lands on the ground.

  Quietly, and with a look of pride clinging to his face, he says, “I know it’s not Venice, but it’s the next best thing.”

  Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him. Then I quickly retreat.

  Brad’s eyes fill with…something. “We can come here every day, if you like.” He grins and I let out a happy giggle.

  Reaching the gondola, we’re greeted by a tall gentleman with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. “Welcome to the Loeb Boathouse. My name is Andre, and I’ll be your guide this evening.”

  Andre helps me into the gondola, and Brad follows behind me. We take a seat next to one another; very close. Brad laces his fingers through mine and a tingle runs through me. I gaze at his lips, for no special reason other than I want to kiss them.

  As the gondola begins to move through the water, a peace settles over me and I find myself opening up. “I’ve always loved the water, ever since I was a child. My family had a small cottage at the beach and we’d stay for weeks at a time throughout the summer. It was so much fun. We’d make giant sandcastles and walk the beach for hours collecting shells.” I can still feel the sting of the sunburn on my shoulders.

  “I can just picture you, those bright blue eyes dancing with excitement, running throug
h the waves at the beach. You must’ve been a real cutie.”

  “Let me put it this way. When I was cast in The Wizard of Oz in fourth grade, I was chosen to play a munchkin. So that should give you some indication. Thankfully, I’m five foot seven now so I’d qualify for another role.”

  Brad squeezes my hand. “Well, munchkins are quite cute.”

  “Yeah, okay. You just keep telling yourself that,” I joke with a wide-eyed smile.

  Brad looks out over the water and seems thoughtful. “My mom and dad had a boat. It was nothing to write home about, but it didn’t matter. The five of us used to go out on the water a lot. I remember spending all day on the ocean. My mom would bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with potato chips for us, and Matt, Clara and I would crush the potato chips on our sandwiches. My dad used to say how gross it was, but the three of us would just laugh and throw potato chips at him.” I see a tiny tear slide down Brad’s cheek and I reach up with my thumb and catch it. He turns around and smiles, and it’s like a hotline straight to my heart. The very thing I’m trying to protect, and at this moment, I feel weary.

  After a gondola ride around the lake, we make our way inside the restaurant, hand in hand. We’re escorted to a table, and from every angle there’s an incredibly romantic view of the lake. While waiting for our food, I delve a bit more into Brad. He’s my favorite subject these days. “So, what was it like growing up in Westchester? Pleasantville, right?”

  His expression shifts before he speaks. “Yeah. It was okay; hard at times because I didn’t have many friends and I got picked on a lot.”

  “Why?”

  “I was a gawky kid, a bit of an oddball actually, and unfortunately, that didn’t make me much of a friend magnet. Plus, once my mom passed away, everyone saw how angry and damaged I was, and they didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  I lay my hand over his and give it an empathetic squeeze. “I know what it’s like to be damaged.”

  Brad raises his eyes to mine. “I don’t know, Gabby. We’re all damaged, right? It’s what we make of the wreckage that matters. Anyway, once my dad mentally checked out, I was lucky that I had Clara and Matt, and my therapist, of course. Otherwise I probably would’ve ended up in juvie. What about you? What was your childhood like?”