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

Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors) Page 92

by Violet Duke

  When I finally arrive back at the apartment, it’s empty. Fran’s at Kyle’s again tonight. I just want to see Brad. His phone rings several times before he picks up.

  “Hey!” I say, my voice rising at the thought of him.

  “Hey yourself. I was just thinking about you.” He sounds so sincere, so real.

  “You were?” That gets me curious.

  “Well, I’m always thinking about you. How did it go with Dane?”

  “Let’s just say it was interesting.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?” He sounds edgy now, almost a little angry.

  “I discovered something about Dane tonight. Kind of an important tidbit he left out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He’s engaged,” I drawl, “to be married.”

  “What? Wow, what a jerk.” Brad sounds appalled but relieved.

  “Yup, my sentiments exactly.” Talking to Brad helps lessen the sting.

  “Want me to kick his ass? Because as a superhero, it’ll be fairly easy.”

  I snort. “I considered doing it myself, but he’s not worth it. I did almost spit on him though.”

  He chuckles. “Now that’s something I’d pay money to see.”

  “I’d really like to see you. Do you want to come over?” I close my eyes and cross my fingers. The desire to see him is overwhelming.

  “Hmmm…I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Take too long and I’ll rescind my offer,” I warn.

  He snickers. “I’ll be right over. I can’t wait to see you.”

  I push all thoughts of the world’s greatest asshole away and let all thoughts of Brad in. He’s on his way over! I run to the bathroom and brush my hair and my teeth, twice. I’m so excited to see him; I feel like a school girl with a big crush. I find myself pacing the living room when I frantically start cleaning anything that looks remotely dirty. By the time I’ve finished, the kitchen counter is sparkling, the brown carpet actually looks relatively clean, and there aren’t any crumbs under the sofa cushions. I run in the bathroom and slather on a bit more deodorant, then brush my hair again and dab some perfume behind my ears. Oh no! I realize I have my butterfly undies on, so I bolt into my room and pull a pair of purple lace ones out of my drawer, then slide them on…just in case.

  After about half an hour, I hear the doorbell ring and let out my new signature Brad squeal. Thankfully, it’s one he can’t hear. When I see him, it’s like an instant charge. He has a wide grin on his face and mine lights up from the sheer sight of him. In fact, I’m smiling so big, it hurts, in a good way. Brad comes in and drops a brown bag on the counter.

  “Hey,” he says as he walks up to me.

  “Hey,” I greet him with a shy smile.

  “I already said that.”

  “Yeah, I have this weird tendency to repeat what you say. Must be because you’re so cool.”

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  “Yeah?” I stand on my tippy toes so I can look into his eyes.

  His eyes meet mine as his fingers graze the curve of my cheekbone. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the color blue for some reason, about a cute little nose, and lips that I hope I get a chance to kiss again.”

  I look up into the many hues of brown I see in his eyes. “Well, if you play your cards right, you might just get another chance.”

  “Lucky for me then, I’m an ace at cards.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  He inches closer. “Yeah.” He brushes his lips against mine, teasing me with his tongue. I open willingly and he slips inside for a taste then pulls back with a knowing smile. “Mmm…you brushed your teeth for me?”

  I’m mortified he knows. “It was really for the first guy who showed up here, you just happened to be the lucky one.”

  A mischievous sparkle alights his eyes. “You’re right, I’m damn lucky.”

  I look over at the brown paper bag resting on the kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

  Brad opens the bag and hands me a large glass jar covered with a red bow, containing hundreds of Swedish Fish. “For you,” he says with a sweet smile. “I wanted to feed your addiction.”

  He’s so freaking adorable. I lick my lips and eye his. “I can think of other ways you can feed it.”

  He lets out a small chuckle and closes the gap between us. Settling his long fingers around the nape of my neck, he brings me in close and sweeps his lips over mine.

  “Thank you,” I whisper quietly against his mouth.

  He threads his fingers through mine and walks me to the couch. We sit, thigh to thigh; I rest my head on his shoulder while he quietly strums his fingers through my hair. After a moment, he looks down at me. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “Well, let’s see. There’s not really much to tell. I met Dane’s leggy fiancée and discovered he was a complete asshole. But, not before I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore because I didn’t feel anything for him. He kept pushing the issue, so I told him the truth…” My voice trails off and I squeeze his hand, “I told him that I was very interested in someone else.”

  I feel him smile against my temple. “Really? And who might that be?”

  “Oh, I think you know,” I flirt, a wide smile encompassing my face.

  “No, I think you might have to spell it out for me,” he responds playfully.

  Tilting my head back so I can look into his eyes, I grab handfuls of his hair, pull him close, and give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

  He just shakes his head. “I think I need a bit more convincing.”

  Slowly, I rise up and place my knees over his legs so I’m straddling him. My hands cup his sweet face while my lips tease the corner of his mouth then duck inside to capture his tongue and stroke it against mine.

  Eventually, we come up for air, both of us short of breath. He pushes a few long strands of hair away from my face and looks into my eyes. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  I smile shyly and shake my head from side to side.

  “Well, you are. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He gently presses his lips to mine and I melt against his mouth.

  We end up watching Bridesmaids and laughing until our stomachs ache, eating popcorn, all the while snuggling together on the couch. It feels good. When the movie’s over, I don’t want him to go. I look down at my hands and make my move.

  “What would you like to do now?”

  He bites his lip, something I’ve never seen him do before. “Gabby, I’m not…I just…” Taking a deep breath, he says, “Can I just stay and hold you?”

  I have no idea what that means. Does he want to hold me naked or with clothes on? Shit. My voice grows quiet. “Okay.” I have no idea what I just agreed to.

  We shut off the television and the lights and make our way to my bedroom. I’m shuffling my feet and I think I might throw up. Not a good idea, even though he’s already seen me do that. The nearness of him is making me crazy. Why am I so nervous? I head to the bathroom and change into a tank top and sweatpants. When I return, Brad has his t-shirt and jeans still on, but no socks. Is he going to take them off? I hope not, or I hope so; I don’t know which one. He pulls back the covers and motions for me to join him. Nestling my head on his chest, I inhale his intoxicating scent, and he rests his chin against my head. Being this close to him is harder than I thought. I want to wiggle nearer to him, but I don’t. Instead, I lie very still, afraid he can hear my heart pounding into my chest, afraid he can read
my thoughts. He has no idea what I’m hiding, what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling. If he only knew how much I want to let him into my heart, into my life, in between my legs. I can almost feel him tracing my curves with his slender fingers. It’s driving me crazy. A frustrated rush of air leaves my mouth and lands on his muscular chest.

  I see the light of the moon peeking through the pale blue curtains, casting a shadow on Brad’s face. I’m not sure what suddenly comes over me, but I lift my leg and hook it over Brad’s waist, resting my crotch right on top of his apparent erection. He stirs and I grab courage from somewhere and climb on top of him, straddling his groin and feeling his hard-on between my thighs. I lick my lips, then lean forward and press them against his mouth.

  He makes a strange noise in his throat. “Gabby, what are you doing?”

  I press myself harder against him. “I think that’s pretty obvious,” I breathe against his lips.

  He props himself up on his elbows. “I can’t, Gabby. I can’t do this.” His words sting and I push myself off of him, stunned.

  “You don’t want me that way?” I ask with a voice full of hurt.

  He runs his hands through his shaggy hair, as he so often does. “My God, you have no idea how much I want to be with you, or how long I’ve wanted you. I’m so hard for you right now it’s driving me insane. I want nothing more than to bury myself inside you and sit in between your thighs all night long. But I want all of you. I want your body and your heart, and I won’t accept anything less. I want the whole of you, Gabby.” His hand finds my face in the darkness, and he holds me in place. The moonlight is shining in his eyes. “You’re not ready for me yet, as much as I wish like hell you were. But I’m patient. I’d wait forever to be the one who gets to hold your heart.” He kisses me like I haven’t been kissed in a long time, feeling his every word with his every breath. Breaking away, I go back to resting my head on his chest, and he kisses my hair and whispers, “goodnight.”

  I lay in Clark’s bed, naked, awaiting his return. I stare at the beautiful diamond on my finger. I’m going to be Mrs. Clark Thompson. A huge grin spreads across my face. This is the moment I’ve dreamed about for seven years. I can’t wait to tell the world. My parents won’t be happy about it, but I don’t care. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.

  I must’ve dozed off, because in my sleepy state, I think I hear my cell phone ringing. I crack open my eyes and glance over at the clock, noticing two hours have gone by and Clark isn’t beside me. Where is he? I wish he’d hurry up. My cell phone continues to ring. I reach over to grab it from the table beside the bed. It’s probably Clark. “Hello?”

  A hysterical voice is on the other end. “Gabby… this is… Mmmrs. Tttthompson.”

  I bolt upright in bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Gabby, whhhere are you?”

  “I’m at your house waiting for Clark. What’s wrong? You’re scaring me!”

  “Mr. Tthhompson is going to come over there right now… There’s been an accident… Gabby…sweetheart… it’s our Clark…”

  My whole body freezes. “What about Clark?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry…there was a head-on… collision… he didn’t… make it.”

  I drop the cell phone to the ground and all I hear are my own screams.

  I’m moaning loudly and feel shaky. Sweat is gushing from my skin and tears are spiraling off my checks. Brad sits up quickly and flips on the light. “My God, Gabby, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

  I can’t speak and uncontrollable sobs are the only thing that make their way out of my body. Brad holds me in the safety of his arms for what seems like seconds, minutes, hours. I lose track. When I finally stop shivering, he sits back and lifts my chin to meet his gaze.

  “Gabby, talk to me. Please. What is it that’s got you so upset?”

  I take a couple of deep breaths, and with a shaky voice it all pours out from the overflowing river of my mind; I tell Brad about Clark. “Clark was…he was everything to me. My first…love. Back in those days, the person I thought would be my life. We dated all through…high school…and college. He asked me…asked me to…”

  “Shhh, baby, it’s okay.”

  But I have to do this, I can’t stop now. “He asked me to marry him…that night. He left me…and then he never came back…an accident…he died…” Pausing, I swipe the tears with my arm. “After that, everything went…black for me. I became numb. It’s been…well…over three years now and it’s been stuck inside of me. I haven’t been able to let it go.”

  Brad cloaks me with his arms. “I’m so sorry, Gabby. I’m sorry you lost Clark, and that you’ve lived with this pain buried inside for so long.” He holds me close and gently strokes my hair with his fingers. “It’s okay, baby. There’s no time limit on grief. Breathe it, feel it, let it seep into you. When you’re ready, and only when you’re ready, you’ll be able to let it go. And even then, it will stay with you, somewhere in a part of your soul. The part where you don’t want to ever forget, because there’s no forgetting love, especially a love like that.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb before he continues. “I understand what you’re feeling, though. Grief can be overwhelming. I felt like that when my mom and sister died. There’s a part of me that didn’t want to go on living, not without them. I kept seeing their faces everywhere, feeling them, breathing them. I wanted them back so desperately. It took me a long time to come to terms with it.” Brad lays me back down and wraps his arms around me, letting my tears soak into his chest and fall onto his heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MY PUFFY EYES are disturbed by the bright sunlight trying to break in. I rub the sleep away and try to crack them open. When they come into focus, I see that Brad is gone. There’s a handwritten note on the table.

  Hi Baby,

  I had to open the shop early but didn’t want to wake you. Hope you managed to get some sleep. I slept well knowing you were in my arms. I’ll remember how beautiful you looked all day.

  Brad

  I’m exhausted, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe again. Brad’s support and understanding lifted me. He made me feel safe, like the world couldn’t hurt me anymore.

  I sit up in bed, feeling the full weight of my emotional exhaustion. My head and body hurt and my eyes are sore from crying. It feels like I’ve got whiplash. All I want to do is go back to bed. It’s a work day, so no such luck. I drag myself out of bed to shower. As soon as I open my bedroom door, I see Fran standing in the hallway, smiling wickedly and tapping her fingernails against my doorframe, fresh from her shower. “So…I bumped into someone this morning when I woke up…a cute someone with a dimpled grin.”

  My lips turn up into a ginormous smile. “Oh, him?”

  “Don’t ‘oh him’ me, Gabby! Did you have sex?”

  “NO…we didn’t!”

  “So what were you guys doing in there then?”

  “Uh…sleeping. I called him after I found out about Dane’s fiancée.” I walk to the bathroom and Fran follows behind me. Grabbing a towel off the shelf, I pull my sweatpants off and slide my t-shirt over my head.

  “His WHAT?”

  Reaching through the shower curtain, I turn the water on then look back at Fran. “Yeah, he’s freaking engaged to be married, Fran.”

  “What a fucking asshole,” she growls, seriously annoyed.

  Hopping in the shower, I close the curtain and let the warm water wash over me. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 
; “So what happened?”

  “Nothing. After I met her, I stormed out of the hotel. I actually feel sorry for her. She’s in for a future full of heartache and God knows what else.”

  “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

  I smile as I massage shampoo through my hair. “I’m not. I told Brad about Clark last night.”

  “How did he react?” She’s concerned and has every right to be. I’ve never told anyone about Clark.

  “He was compassionate and understanding. God, Fran, he was so amazing. He held me all night while I sobbed.”

  “I’m glad you finally told him, Gabby. You’ve been holding on to that for way too long. You needed to let it out so you can be rid of it once and for all, you know.”

  I sigh deeply. “I know.”

  Stepping out of the shower, I cover my body with a towel. Fran walks over and wraps her arms around me, my hair dripping on her shoulder. “Thank goodness. Now maybe you can start letting yourself be happy. Clark would want you to be happy. You know I love you so freaking much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She pulls back and scans my face. “So getting back to this no sex thing…you really didn’t do it?”

  “No. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I stick my tongue out at her. “It’s different with him, Fran. It’s hard to explain, it’s just different. In a good way.”

  “I know, chickie. It’s all good, and I’m happy for you. But, when it does happen, I want a full report.”

  “You’ll be the first one to know,” I respond. “Promise.”

 

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