The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  “I can take care of myself.”

  I’d proved it with Spike, but as soon as I said the words, I wished I could take them back.

  That was my biggest problem — I always tried to do everything myself. Thinking I was invincible got me into the pickle I was in. If I weren’t careful, it would only get worse. A lot worse.

  “Actually,” I began, my shoulders sagging in defeat. A part of me knew I’d regret making the call, but I had to do it. “There is someone.”

  9

  When the privacy curtain flew back with a screech a half-hour later and that someone appeared, I did regret making the call. I regretted the hell out of it.

  Sage was pissed.

  And that, my friends, was an understatement.

  Sage was red-in-the-face, beat-someone’s-ass pissed.

  He didn’t bother to hide it, either, charging in like a rhino mid-stampede, fully prepared to destroy everything in his path, which unfortunately contained me. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Apparently, I’d interrupted his plans for the evening, the lumbering caveman tamed by a red button-down and jeans. His typical stubble was shorn into a delectable five o’clock shadow, and his mussed hair was slicked to suave perfection. Whoever his lady friend of the night was, she was missing out on a hell of a hunk.

  I sunk into the bed at the harshness of his voice, finding little comfort in the stiff mattress. “I wasn’t.”

  “Obviously!” he huffed, running an agitated hand through his mane and messing it up — just how I liked it. “What is wrong with you? Do you have a fucking death wish?”

  “It was supposed to be a business meeting.” It was a stupid defense, clearly, but hindsight was 20/20.

  He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t care if you were supposed to meet Jesus Christ himself for crumpets, Karine! I told you to open your eyes! For fuck’s sake!”

  “I made a mistake,” I said softly, staring at my hands folded on my lap.

  Yup, definitely regretted that call.

  I knew better than to expect sympathy out of him, but a small part of me had hoped he wouldn’t go apeshit.

  “He could have done terrible things to you, Karine. Do you understand that?” His voice dipped, luring my eyes to his where I found genuine concern.

  “He kinda drilled that into my head when he smacked it into the concrete beam,” I assured him with an eye roll. I didn’t need a lecture to know how close I’d come to something far worse happening. “But thanks for the reminder, Sage.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stripping away the blanket that had hugged me since arriving. As I did, I wondered how many people had died with that very blanket and vowed that in addition to grabbing wine when I got back to my room, I was soaking in the tub until the end of time.

  “And you wore that?” he groaned as he took in my green mini dress, running his hands over his face. “You really are a magnet for stupid sometimes.”

  “It’s not that bad!” I defended. Compared to the girls he liked, I was a nun.

  “You look like a hooker from Oz.”

  I grabbed my purse from the stool where it’d been abandoned, straightening to face the leviathan with every bit of height and pride I had left. Spike was safely tucked inside, the hard beam pressed against my hip through the leather and gently reminding me I could take care of myself if need be. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It wasn’t,” he grumbled, his green eyes scanning my face before resting on the stitches and hardening in a flash. “Did he cut you?”

  I shook my head, holding it high. “Nope, just shoved my face into a pillar.”

  He reached out, catching me by surprise as he gently hooked my hand in his, lifting my gauze-wrapped forearm to study it. “And this?”

  “Scratched me.”

  His nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched, the split second of tenderness shattered. “Are you fucking kidding me? He scratched you?”

  The stupid nail marks hurt more than my face, though the doctor who’d stitched me up had assured that would change once the adrenaline wore off. He’d also warned about the epic black eye on the horizon. Yippee.

  Sage’s face softened, the anger vanishing at my lack of a response. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded slowly, each motion convincing me more than the last that I was, in fact, okay. I was lucky, even. Who knew what would have happened had Spike not swooped in to save the day?

  “Are you ready to go, Rini?” he asked, offering a hand. It was the first time he’d used my nickname in ages.

  I took it, trusting a viper for the second time that day. “I was born ready,” I replied.

  Hey, I never said I learned from my mistakes.

  The Uber ride to the hotel took forever and a day, an accident snarling the main artery across town. As we waited, exhaustion won, and I dozed off against Sage’s shoulder, only waking when he gently shook me upon arrival.

  The lobby was crawling with couples as we entered, the last hour of Valentine’s Day waning and begging to be put out of its misery until next year. I gladly obliged, stomping to the elevator with Sage at my heels.

  I felt eyes on us as I did, but it had to be from the stitches. Or maybe the hospital bracelet dangling on my wrist. Hell, my eye could have been well on its way toward raccoon status. I didn’t blame anyone for staring.

  “You’re grumpy,” Sage noted, watching my fingers slap at the elevator call button like a cat after a string.

  “I got beat up by a porn star, Sage,” I groused, crossing my arms while we waited. “I’m allowed to be grumpy.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. “Do you think that’s what happened to the dwarf?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  Maybe he was drunk. The police had clearly called while he was out. I hadn’t smelled alcohol on him, but Sage and beer were BFFs. Low-carb, of course. God-forbid he not have washboard abs.

  “You know, Snow White’s little friend?”

  I groaned at the bad joke, but a smile still broke through. “You’re a nut.”

  “A little,” he admitted, waving me into the elevator when the doors opened. “But you like it.”

  “I don’t like nuts,” I sighed, pressing my floor number before sinking against the wall. The doctor was right. My face was starting to throb, and I couldn’t wait to down Tylenol and go to bed. “I’m allergic, remember?”

  He, of all people, should. He almost killed me with a peanut butter cup as a kid. Then with an almond macaroon a few years back.

  “Damn!” he grumbled, dramatically snapping his fingers and coming to a stop beside me. “I guess that rules bukkake out.”

  “Unless you have an EpiPen handy,” I deadpanned, reaping a rich harvest of laughs from my nemesis.

  “You know, you’re not such a witch today,” he said, grinning as the floors ticked by. “I wonder if the doctor healed the evil inside of you.”

  “No such luck,” I said, meeting his eyes. “You almost seem pleasant today too, Mullen.”

  It was the nicest he’d been to me in ages. For once, I didn’t have the urge to throw rotten tomatoes at his face.

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to be mean to someone who got roughed up by a Ken doll.”

  “Even when the person is a huge pain in the ass who got herself into trouble?” I asked with a raised brow, wincing immediately at the pain.

  He flashed another smile. “Definitely, then. I need that pain in the ass so I don’t look like the world’s biggest bitch tomorrow.”

  The doors slid open, revealing my floor and its chintzy gold carpeting. We stepped out, cautiously checking for signs of Dash or Juni before speaking. The last thing we needed to do was blow the big surprise the night before. Dash would chuck either of us out a window, even his best friend of forever, Sage.

  “Why’s that?” I asked, adjusting my purse strap as we traveled down the hall. “Going to choke up seeing your little sissy say yes?”


  I knew I was going to be all-aboard the cry train, but I didn’t expect tough-guy Sage to get the sniffles. I doubted the man had cried a day over the age of infant. Hell, he probably came out of the birth canal ready to kick someone’s ass.

  “No, I’m afraid of heights, but you’re worse than I am.”

  I grinned. “So, I’m your cover?”

  He laughed, the sound settling the last of the nerves churning in my gut. “Yeah, you cry when you’re scared. It’ll distract from the nervous sweating and shakes.”

  I delivered the best curtsey I could muster. “Glad to be of service.”

  He steadied me by the elbow as I straightened, the not-so-graceful curtsey not the best idea in sky-high Saint Laurent pumps. “Hey — you owe me one. I left a bar to rescue you.”

  Called it.

  “Thank you,” I croaked as we neared my door.

  A few feet away, Dash and Juni’s room was unoccupied, the two always leaving a do-not-disturb hanger on the handle when they were in. They needed one, given the noises I’d heard coming out of there in the early morning hours. I lived with her and heard plenty of crazy shit, yet I hadn’t heard those sounds before. Vegas turned my homegirl into a cat in heat.

  Sage cocked his head at me as we slowed to a stop. “What?”

  Here we go. He’d bust my balls for eternity for thanking him.

  “Thank you,” I repeated, bracing myself for the onslaught of jokes as I fished around my bag for the keycard.

  “For what?”

  Yep. Jokes incoming.

  “Coming to get me.”

  Screw it, I’d roll with it. He did me a huge favor, and I deserved the jabs. Maybe the added torture would give me a moment of pause before I did something stupid again.

  He looked at me like I was totally bonkers. “You don’t need to thank me, Karine.”

  My fingers finally landed on the keycard, sliding it from beneath Spike. “Yes, I do. You said it yourself: you stopped what you were doing to help me. I’m sorry. I owe your date an apology, too.”

  I was a little surprised that he came, given our history. I couldn’t say for certain that I would have done the same for him.

  “What date?”

  “The girl you were at the bar with, turd,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Knowing Sage, he didn’t refer to them as dates anymore. He probably called them fans.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked with a laugh, stepping close to let a group of drunken girls pass, some that I recognized from the bachelorette party at the club the night before.

  “You weren’t with someone?” The odds of that were precisely zero. Sage never drank alone. Everywhere he went, women followed. He was a walking pussy magnet.

  “Hell no!” he thundered, his face contorting in disgust. “I was drinking with me, myself, and I.”

  “You? Alone on Valentine’s Day?” I laughed, trusting that answer as much as a porta potty door lock. “Yeah, right, buddy.”

  “I never take girls out on Valentine’s Day. They automatically think it means we’re an item when we definitely aren’t.”

  “So, you’re doing us women a favor, really? Being generous by taking yourself out of commission for the day?”

  God, I wanted to smack him again already.

  “Something like that.”

  I slid the keycard in the lock, ready to bolt before he made me regret our short-lived truce, but he put his hand over mine before I could.

  “Let me check your room.”

  “Nice try…” I trailed but stopped as soon as his lip curled, the thought alone clearly disgusting him.

  Gee, thanks, asshole.

  I might not have been some glamazon model with six feet of leg, but I liked to think I wasn’t repulsive. Damn.

  “What if he paid some creep to get back at you?”

  My hand fell to my side from the handle. He had a point. I hadn’t simply smacked Trey — I destroyed him. He and his monster-sized ego wouldn’t take kindly to it.

  Sage slipped inside; every second he was gone making me more nervous than the last. What if there was a psycho waiting inside to off me?

  He propped the door open a moment later and ushered me inside. “Good to go.”

  I stepped in, finding the room exactly as I’d left it. Suitcase flung wide. Dresses across the bed. My vibrator on the nightstand.

  Oh, God.

  “Do you need anything before I split?” Sage asked as he hovered near the door.

  A hug. A Xanax. A friend. Any order would be fine. I might accept an IOU at that point, too.

  I shook my head, not admitting that what I wanted most was for him to stay. Not like that, but as a companion. When everything with Trey went down, I wanted nothing more than to be alone in my room, and now that the moment came, the thought terrified me.

  “You sure, Rini?” He did always manage to perfectly call me on my bullshit.

  “I’m okay,” I lied, knowing it wasn’t right to rob him of his time in Vegas. He deserved to have fun, too. “Go have a drink for me.”

  His hands outstretched, hauling me in with force, finally giving what I’d waited ten long years for. At least, that’s what I thought.

  Instead of kissing me senseless, he cradled me to his chest, his muscled arms firm as they wrapped around my body.

  Despite not being what I wanted per se, the gesture was exactly what I needed. I sank against him, finding solace in the old friend that was still in there somewhere.

  “Be careful.” He delivered the message against my hair with what I swore was a kiss before leaving.

  As the door clicked closed, I wasn’t sure if he was warning me or himself.

  10

  Talita: HOLY FUCK! Are you okay? Call me ASAP!

  Soraya: OMG!!! You’re trending on Twitter!

  I scrolled through the texts as my phone buzzed nonstop with notifications from seemingly every app installed. I’d had it off for the dinner meeting and hadn’t bothered to turn it on until after my molten-hot bath. There was a tidal wave of drama waiting as soon as I did.

  Dorito wasn’t kidding. The video really did spread like wildfire. I went viral in the most epic way possible. Every social media site had the clip circulating, and when I first saw it, I cried.

  The terror on my face brought me right back, and the cut, Jesus, how did I not feel that sucker? It was a wonder I didn’t have a broken orbital bone or worse.

  The tears stopped when Spike emerged, the satisfying whack of 12 inches of polymer across Trey’s face better each time. A few edits were already out with sound effects dubbed in, from a rubber ducky noise on impact to the My Heart Will Go On pennywhistle solo.

  In the end, sobs were replaced with giggles, leaving the bottle of wine on the desk untouched. I couldn’t have picked it up if I wanted to, anyway, as I’d reached the point of hilarity, my muscles reduced to jelly as I lay on the bed in a naked lump.

  My phone sat forgotten a few inches away, once again turned off to silence the non-stop buzzing. It would calm by morning, hopefully, but until then, I needed a break from the influx.

  I also needed to get dressed, eventually, as Juni would no doubt start banging on the door when she got back from the show. Answering in my birthday suit was a little too comfortable, even for us after twenty-plus years of friendship. We might have streaked to and from the bathroom, but we didn’t hang around with our clams exposed.

  I glanced at the bedside alarm clock, the glow of 1:00 AM staring back at me. It was now or never.

  I stood on wobbly legs and baby-stepped to my suitcase, grabbing a navy blue satin sleep set, the camisole and shorts my favorite pair of jammies. Juni balked at the price until I bought her the same set in purple. Since then, she’d bought herself another in ivory.

  As expected, a frantic pounding came just as I was tugging my shirt over my head.

  “Coming!” I called, trying not to be too loud. I didn’t need an angry call from the front desk on top of everything else.r />
  Juni, who was likely a bottle of wine deep into the night at least, obviously didn’t have the same concern as her hand slapped on the wood like a crazy person.

  I braced myself for the drunken craziness as I crossed the room, knowing Hurricane Juni was about to come barreling in at a category five.

  I opened the door, finding not Juni, but Sage, the brawny beast’s chest heaving. His outfit of a t-shirt, sweatpants, and socks said he went back to his room rather than out again.

  “Why didn’t you answer me?” he demanded, pushing past to rush inside, anger rolling off of him in waves.

  “My phone is off.” I shut the door, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned against it.

  If I’d realized it was him on the other side, I would have put a bra on. Hello, headlights.

  His head snapped to me, his eyes widening as if it was the first time he’d seen me all night. “What the fuck? Why would you answer the door like that?”

  He waved wildly at my pajamas, though there was hardly anything scandalous about them. I might have understood his concern if I were wearing one of the négligées in my top drawer at home.

  “I thought you were Juni,” I said with a shrug.

  “You didn’t even look?” he exploded, taking a menacing step toward me.

  “Well, no.”

  Again, there I was, walking headfirst into a stupid decision. It would have taken a second to look through the peephole, yet I didn’t bother. I assumed. It was a miracle something terrible hadn’t happened to me sooner. Jeez.

  The answer didn’t sit well with Sage, either, whose fists clenched at his sides. There was a visible tremble in them, and if I wasn’t already pressed to the door, I would’ve backed the fuck up. Pronto.

  “Are you trying to get hurt at this point?” he asked with a vicious laugh. “You’re literally following a playbook of one dumb decision after another. It’s astonishing.”

  Rather than cry, like I wanted to, I matched his anger and held my head high. “Okay, I get it: I’m stupid; I’m impulsive; I’m naive. Any other insults you want to throw at me?”