Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  “You feel so fucking good!”

  Tori panted, trying to form words. “Shit, don’t stop,” she grunted.

  Her bouncing breasts beat against the couch as she tried to brace herself with her hands.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Come with me,” he commanded.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes,” was all she could muster. Her muscles clenched and her body vibrated as an orgasm blasted through her body for the second time. Cole threw his head back and pumped his hips until he was empty. Tori’s nerve endings were on fire from the surging blood.

  Cole’s exhausted body collapsed onto the floor. With his back against the couch, he pulled Tori onto his lap, cradling her drained body next to his.

  “That was fucking mind blowing,” he huffed, still out of breath.

  “Mmhmm.” She snuggled closer and sighed.

  “I think I can get used to being in love.” His lips trailed kisses along her hair.

  “Agreed.” She planted a kiss on his sweaty chest.

  He lifted his head and glanced down. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  She looked up into his face. “Oh yes. I love you, Cole.”

  Chapter 12

  *** FOUR MONTHS LATER ***

  Tori

  “Mom, can you place the silverware around the table?”

  “Of course, dear.” Claire Altman finished creating the perfect Thanksgiving table scape.

  Tori was elated to be hosting the family meal. She absorbed the images of her mother putting her touch on the festivities, and she had yet to complain about her daughter’s cramped apartment.

  “How about a couple of beers in here, Victoria?” Her father’s voice boomed from the other room.

  “Sure, daddy.” She grabbed a few long neck bottles and passed them out to the men lounging around her living room.

  It made her chest warm to hear her father’s voice, and to have him sitting on her couch. After coming so close to losing him, it was surreal to hear his voice calm and relaxed. It was even more unreal to see her military father hanging out with her boyfriend, Cole and his best friend and fellow exotic dancer, Jellybean.

  Cole beamed and winked at her. He had a way of always letting her know he was thinking of her. It gave her goosebumps in all the right places. She checked the football score before leaving the room. She didn’t care who won, just as long as the Cowboys lost. She smiled as her dad shouted a few obscenities at the TV. Some things will never change, and that was perfectly fine for her.

  “Dear, you really should get off your feet,” her mother said as the doorbell rang.

  “It doesn’t look like that’s in the cards just yet, mother.” Tori shuffled across the room to answer the door. Sally handed her a store bought pumpkin pie and Katie Bell squealed, just as she had every time she saw Tori and her vastly expanding belly.

  She was already showing for four months pregnant and she loved every second of it.

  “Mother, father, I’d like for you to meet my friends. This is Sally and her better half Katie Bell.”

  Sally pretended to be offended, but then quickly nodded in agreement.

  Tori eyeballed her father to see how he would take the fact that he was now face to face with two lesbians. Her breath died in her throat as he pushed himself up from the couch, towering over the women. She shot a look to Cole, who was already looking at her with a sympathetic expression.

  Her eyes grew wide as her father crossed the silent room. Her mother stood in the background tugging on a dishtowel.

  The air left the room as he stuck out his hand.

  Sally shook the extended hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Colonel Altman.”

  His lips curved up, the little lines in his face were like a ray of sunshine in the apartment. He shook Katie Bell’s hand next. “You two ladies call me Ed.”

  Both women shot Tori a shocked look. She shrugged.

  Sally nodded to the man. “Ed it is then.”

  “Good, now get you a beer and come watch the game.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Katie Bell giggled and everyone went back to prepping for Thanksgiving dinner. Sally grabbed a Corona and made football chitchat with the Colonel.

  Life was perfect.

  Cole

  “Dude, you sure you wanna do this?” Jellybean took a swig from his almost empty beer.

  “There’s not a doubt in my mind, man. I mean, she’s having my baby. This is everything I never knew I wanted.” Cole checked his reflection in the mirror.

  The two men had gone back to their apartment to change for dinner. Cole donned a nice button up shirt and a pair of khakis. He rolled his sleeves up to the elbow.

  “Yeah, I can see that about you. You’re gonna be a great dad.”

  The word made Cole’s heart jump. He couldn’t say he had never thought about being a father, but this had been a huge surprise. When Tori told him that she was pregnant, his entire body went numb, but once he caught his breath, he knew it was his role in life. It would be his greatest joy, and he felt like he owed it all to Tori.

  Cole’s pulse thumped in his temples. He wiped his sweaty hands on his slacks. He had scrutinized Tori’s every move ever since they had sat down at the table for dinner. He didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed to pull off the perfect turkey day. Family, football and beer. He had no idea it could be so fulfilling.

  Colonel Altman said the blessing and everyone enjoyed a great meal, with even better conversation. He made a mental note to let Tori know how touched Jellybean had been to be invited to dinner. He was worse off than Cole when it came to family.

  When Tori dropped her napkin, he saw the perfect opening.

  “I’ve got it,” he said, stopping her from bending underneath the table.

  She kissed him on the cheek, and went back to her conversation about the changes in this year’s fall fashion.

  Cole slipped to the floor and dug the small, velvet box from his pocket. He knelt down on one knee, waiting for Tori to notice.

  “Oh my God.” Claire’s fork dropped to her plate.

  Everyone in the room followed her eyes until theirs landed on Cole. His stomach lurched into his throat and his heart pounded against his chest. He closed his trembling hand over Tori’s. He gazed up into her face. Her eyes were the size of saucers and her mouth hung open.

  “Tori, you are everything that makes the world good. You are everything that makes me wake up in the morning. You are beautiful, smart and strong willed. You’re the reason I exist. I know a lot of people will think I’m proposing because we’re going to have a baby, but that’s not the case. I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve never been the same. We’re going to have a family, a perfect family, but that starts with us. Tori, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Cole held his breath. He didn’t expect his voice to be so shaky. It felt like he had been on his knee for an eternity. She never took her eyes off him, and he forgot about the other people in the room.

  Tears spilled, flowing down her full cheeks. He noticed the ball bobbing in her throat as she tried to swallow.

  She nodded before speaking. Cole jumped to his feet, pulling her into his arms.

  “Yes?” He asked.

  “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” She choked the words out through the weeping.

  Everyone in the room clapped. Well, almost everyone. The Colonel stood and made his way around the table. He clasped Cole on the shoulder before taking his daughter into his arms. He gave her a tight embrace and looked back to Cole.

  “Well done, son. And I told you she’d say yes.”

  “Yes, sir, you did.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Kimmie is an Amazon International bestselling author who grew up traveling the country, rarely settling in one place for much longer than a minute. Being no stranger to heartache, she allows her unconventional childhood to fuel her writing.

  Kimm
ie is addicted to all things books, wine, cupcakes, and flip-flops. She is a homeschool momma, southern wife and pug wrangler.

  Kimmie can be found somewhere in the south writing wine worthy stories.

  Contact Kimmie:

  Kimmie’s website

  Kimmie on Facebook

  Kimmie on Twitter

  Kimmie on Goodreads

  Taming Romeo

  Sánchez Sisters, Book #1

  Rachelle Ayala

  Copyright © 2014 by:

  Rachelle Ayala

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Cover design by Rachelle Ayala Publishing, LLC

  This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.

  Dedication

  >>><<<

  Mina V. Esguerra

  >>><<<

  Evie Sanchez is recovering from heartbreak when she runs into Romeo Garcia, the bad boy she left behind.

  Now a movie star, Romeo never understood why Evie stood him up. When Evie lands a part as Romeo’s co-star, things begin to sizzle.

  Is the fantasy real or revenge? Evie and Romeo are about to discover if their buried feelings will explode in pure delight or utter disaster.

  Taming Romeo is a contemporary romance featuring family secrets, delicious food, and hot, steamy loves scenes.

  Chapter 1

  I pin my hair and loop a black apron over my black barong shirt worn over black pencil leg jeans. All I need is a black veil over my long black hair and I could pass as a mourner at a rock star’s funeral.

  But that would have to wait until someone actually dies.

  Pots and pans bang as Carlos, the head chef, barks orders to the assistant cooks. Steaks sizzle on the grills and the deep fryers bubble with baskets of lumpia, milkfish, prawn cakes, and chicken wings.

  “Evie, grab a pad,” my sister Choco calls. “Big party in the kare-kare room.”

  “It’s not even noon.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve got the senior center crowd on the bangus side to serve.”

  Ever since I returned from med school, Choco has been trying to palm her tables off on me. It’s always a retirement party camping over halo-halo, a big reunion asking for separate checks, or a screaming child’s birthday party with twenty-five hyperactive children all wanting punch, hot dogs, and pizza. Not that Barrio XO, my parents’ Filipino restaurant, serves American fast food. Guess who has to make the run to Pizza Shack or Top Dog?

  “What’s it this time?” I tuck my pencil over my ear. “A baby shower or a Dora the Explorer birthday party?”

  “Actors and their entourage. They want to sample every single appetizer we have.” Choco slaps tickets onto the wheel. “Stop by the bar and help me mix the drinks. I’m getting slammed. The girls want fancy cocktails, mojito, zombie, sex on the beach—I need Google to figure out how to mix this shit.”

  Carlos plops a scoop of garlic fried rice onto a plate of breakfast longanisa, a sweet Filipino sausage, arranged artfully between two blobs of sunny side eggs. He grabs the next ticket and swears. “Choco, tell them we don’t have whole pig so early. We have slices, but no whole frickin’ pig. Too early!”

  I take the breakfast plate and fill a glass of milk, then shrug her an apology. “I’ve got Mr. Dee waiting with his dentures. Be back to help in a minute.”

  “Urgh!” Choco flaps her hands as if she could fly away from the chaos. “I’m going crazy.”

  I swing through the kitchen door and almost run over Mama.

  She pulls me toward the kare-kare side. “Your old friend Romeo’s back. Come say hi.”

  I freeze in my tracks. My entire anatomy rearranges itself starting with my heart which trades places with my stomach. Romeo García is definitely not a friend. Once, he was more than a friend, now, less, but never ever just a friend. Romeo García did not do friend.

  “The eggs are getting cold.” I shake the plate, the yolks wobbling greasily. “Later.”

  “Choco!” Mama hurries into the kitchen, volleying complaints in a mixture of Tagalog and English.

  I take a deep breath and amble to the calmer side of the restaurant separated from the bar and karaoke room by an outdoor patio. Tropical fish swim in a saltwater aquarium. The walls are decorated with displays of baskets, traditional instruments, and murals of Filipino hacienda and garden scenes. The atmosphere is peaceful, serene, like schools of milkfish, or bangus, swimming in a swamp.

  Mr. Dee beams from behind his large reading glasses. He moves his newspaper aside and tucks a napkin into his shirt.

  “Miss Evie, you are looking prettier every day.” He winks, forgetting he complimented me when I took his order.

  I set the plate in front of him with the glass of milk. “Would you like hot sauce or banana catsup?”

  “Bagoong.” He asks for the fermented shrimp and fish paste old timers spread on everything, from peanut butter jelly sandwiches to crumpets and scones, if they have the chance. Fine, I exaggerate.

  I duck behind a screen and take a small jar from the drink refrigerator, then slide it to him. “High sodium content. Better watch your blood pressure.”

  Mr. Dee chuckles while I check on the Sunshine Ladies, a gang of grandmothers from the nearby Sunshine retirement complex. I refill their ice teas and take dessert orders.

  The door from the patio swings open, bringing in echoes of loud voices and hollers from the kare-kare side. Romeo García’s wild party.

  Papa strides smoothly toward me, grinning and tipping his head to the customers. He pinches my arm and pulls me behind the screen. “We need your help. There are more than forty people waiting for mixed drinks.”

  “Just a minute.” I swing by Mr. Dee’s table and grab the wide-brimmed golf cap off his head. “I need a disguise. May I borrow this?”

  “Sure.” Mr. Dee grins, his dentures stark white. “You’re looking really pretty.”

  “Thanks. I’ll bring it back later.” I shove it over my head and lower the brim, then follow Papa to the patio.

  “Evie, you’re being silly,” Papa grumbles. “I don’t think Romeo even remembers you.”

  Well, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.

  “He has so many girls crushing over him, he wouldn’t have noticed a smart, studious girl like you. There’s no need to hide.”

  That’s what I get for covering up my true relationship with Romeo while growing up. Papa would drop me off at the library and minutes later, I would jump on the back of Romeo’s moped. That was before he got the awesome classic Yamaha Elsie twin-stroke senior year. Anyway, I digress. Immediate problem is hiding, preferably dropping into a five and a half foot deep hole.

  “I’m not hiding,” I lie. “There’s a huge zit growing out of my forehead. I think it popped.”

  Papa twists his mouth and opens the door to the kare-kare room which resembles a sports bar more than a family restaurant. Raucous laughter and whoops compete with the thumping music. I hand the dessert orders to Mama and slink in Papa’s shadow toward the bar.

  A blonde dressed in a slutty black leather halter top and no-leg hot pants over fishnet stockings twists and lurches to the soundtrack of “Erotica” by Madonna. She’s not even lip-syncing, just gyrating and moaning, as if she’s orgasming off a giant mic tucked between her legs.

  For once, I’m thankful for the plain uniform my parents impose on the wait staff. Since the window shades are drawn and all Y chromosome eyes are glued to the blonde, I breathe easier and zero in on Romeo.

  Holy moly. Could God be so unfair? His heartthrob looks haven’t changed a bit. If anything, he’s filled out, his shoulders wider and the angle of his chin more confident. The boyish face, so instrumental in rocking him into boy band heaven years ago, has become rugged, more angular, his jaw stronger and dark with a five o’clock shadow. And it’s not even noon. What’s new are the tattoos criss-crossing his muscular arms. I�
�m too far away to tell, but the metallic glint over his lower lip could be a piercing.

  Papa yanks me from my trance. “Quit gawking and help me serve the drinks.”

  Chapter 2

  “Evie! What are you doing out back? Having a smoke?” Ate Choco screeches. “Get back and help me clear the plates.”

  “I quit before med school,” I holler back into the kitchen and head for the recycling bin. “And I’m not dawdling.”

  One by one, I place the wine bottles carefully into the bin so they won’t crack and cut anyone. I’m not ready to go back inside. Being surrounded by Romeo and his gang is dangerous to my health, especially since no one warned me he was around. Last time I stalked him on the internet, he was shooting a teleserye in the Philippines. Some sappy opposites-attract soap opera about a rock star who falls in love with a mathematics teacher.

  I check my pulse. Elevated. Breathing rapidly, tingling sensations in my fingers and toes. Heart palpitations, sweating on my nose, and dizziness. The summer heat simmering off the asphalt dances in my visual field. Vasovagal or am I having arrhythmia, irregular heartbeats?

  The bottles settled, I stand up too quickly. Uyuh, my head swims and I stagger, catching myself on the leather banana seat of Romeo’s Yamaha. Long and smooth, it seats two cozily, unlike the stair-step indented seats of modern racing bikes. I swallow the drool collecting in my throat. Romeo’s long arms and legs allowed me to ride in front, my hands hugging the fuel tank and my boots tucked on top of the engine. Sometimes, I’d face him, straddling him with my legs wrapped around his waist. We didn’t wear helmets. I know, young and stupid, but the kissing was awesome.