The Holly Hearth Romantic Comedy Collection

by K B Cinder

  He squeezed my knee gently. “Please?”

  I shook my head. I had better things to do than fly around in some rickety helicopter — like stay alive.

  “Not for me — for Juni. Please be there for her. She needs a girl to gush with. I can’t do the whole wedding thing. I don’t know taffeta from testicles.”

  That got a laugh out of me, damn him.

  He stood at the progress, climbing back to his full fire tower height. “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll be back here arguing before you know it. I promise.”

  I wanted to run. I needed to run. But I didn’t.

  I took Sage’s hand instead.

  14

  If someone had bet me a million dollars that I would get on a helicopter, and that Sage Mullen would be the one to talk me into it, I would be a sad, sad, lady.

  One, because I didn’t have the cash to pay up, and two, because that meant, at some point, I’d have to face my fears.

  The time was now.

  I was strapped in like a child in a booster seat as soon as I sat down, eliminating any chance of hopping out at the last second to run to safety. Even if, say, I chewed through the straps like a rabid dog, I’d have to clear Sage, and that wasn’t happening.

  I sat wedged between him and Juni, my body the only one trembling like a leaf. On Juni’s other side was Dash, the fiancé-to-be not appearing remotely nervous, and he was about to propose.

  My hands shook as they clutched the shoulder harness, and when the pilot flipped on the engine, I thought I was going to be sick. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears to stay in as the blades overhead chopped at the air with a fury I hadn’t expected.

  A sudden weightless sensation washed over me, signaling that we were slowly rising into the desert sky. It sent my ill-advised breakfast to the back of my throat, and for a brief second, I thought I was going to paint the cabin purple with my berry French toast.

  The only thing that stopped me was fear. If I puked on the pilot, he would crash, and there went any chance of making it out alive.

  I felt the chopper shift forward, but I kept my eyes closed. At least if we went down, I wouldn’t see it coming.

  “Karine, look at the birds!” Juni exclaimed as she patted my thigh wildly. I could barely hear her even with the ridiculous mic’d headphones on.

  Birds?

  Great, we were going to slice and dice Tweety and his friends with the blades before promptly plummeting to our fiery, feathery deaths.

  “Oh, yeah, they’re so cool!” With my sunglasses on, hopefully she couldn’t tell how full of shit I was.

  Sage knew, a gentle laugh rolling through him. Since we were packed in tight on the bench-style seat, it was easy to feel as his body was pressed to mine.

  Juni was flopping around on my other side, likely seeking a better view out the window beside Dash. I wished she would sit the fuck still so she didn’t throw off the balance of the chopper. “What kind are those? Did you see them the last time you were in Vegas, Rini?”

  “No idea.” I likely had, but I didn’t care to look.

  They were birds. They all looked the same — beak, wings, feathers. I’d appreciate them when my ass was back on Earth.

  “Oh, come on! How do you not know? You researched all things Vegas for, like, three weeks this time!” I could hear the pout in her voice, but Juni could go fly a kite at the moment.

  “I looked at places, Juni — not birds.” I was lying through my teeth, but that was beside the point.

  I’d researched wildlife when Dash let me know that the chopper was landing in the middle of the desert. At the time, I was worried that a mountain lion would steal me as a snack. Silly me forgot about having to ride in the helicopter until I stared it down in person.

  The same helicopter that bowed forward again, further fraying what little nerves I had left. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard I thought I’d pop a stitch, wishing I had talked Dash into proposing anywhere else. Preferably somewhere that didn’t require being in the sky.

  As I gripped the leather seat, fingers rubbed gently along the knuckles of my left hand. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know they belonged to Sage.

  It was a tiny gesture. Microscopic compared to the fear that struck with every jerk of the chopper as we sliced through the air.

  But it was there.

  Maybe that door wasn’t shut after all.

  What Dash failed to mention about our little adventure was that we weren’t taking a short flight and landing in the desert on the outskirts of Vegas.

  Oh, no. That would’ve been too gentle on my poor, delicate, terror-stricken heart.

  It was go big or go home with a side of guacamole. You only proposed once in a lifetime, right? Well, hopefully.

  Dash took it to heart, going all-out for his love. We headed to all the sites — the Hoover Dam, Lake Mead, Charleston Peak — in all, spending a good hour buzzing around before setting out on the 45-minute flight south to the Grand Canyon.

  I didn’t open my eyes once, Sage’s strokes eventually turning into his entire hand resting over mine, the massive fingers squeezing whenever we hit a rough patch of air or banked.

  Juni had a blast, and that was all that mattered. Every cheer, ooh, and ahh of hers made it all worth it. I would do it a thousand times over for her.

  But I will say that as soon as we landed in a pristine slice of desert overlooking the canyon, I was ready to get the fuck out of that helicopter.

  Dash helped Juni out on one side while Sage lifted me from the other. As he set me down, his powerful hands lingered at my waist, a shared moment of intimacy in the shadows of the aircraft.

  “Wanna do a couple’s shot at the rim?” the co-pilot asked, his leathery hands cradling a camera as he pointed into the distance.

  That caught Sage’s attention, of course. “Juni loves rim shots, right, Dash?”

  His once-calm best friend fired off a look at him that could only be described as homicidal, while Juni laughed.

  Ha.

  So Dash was nervous after all.

  Good.

  Any man that wasn’t raised a big-ass red flag.

  Juni wasn’t any regular, old groupie from the firehouse — she was my best friend. I was just as protective over her — if not more — as Sage. Any man that wanted to marry her should be scared shitless if he knew what was good for him. I didn’t care if we all grew up together or not.

  The ruddy ground crunched beneath our feet as we walked to the area the co-pilot had designated, with Juni and Dash leading the way. Sage and I hung back with the pilot, while the co-pilot dawdled between the two groups, his camera ready for the big moment.

  With its dips and rugged terrain, it wasn’t a dainty walk, not that I minded. All around, the scenery was beautiful, the rolling earth home to thatches of brush and jagged stone. In the distance, red mountains soared into the sky, while ahead, everything stopped at the ledge, beckoning us forward for a taste of something more.

  The closer we got to the edge, the more my heart hammered in my chest, but I kept going, refusing to miss a second. Fear could buzz off and give me a break. I was tired of its shit.

  As we navigated the last patch of brush and stone, Juni screamed — a blood-curdling, terrified scream. A scream that catapulted me back into panic mode.

  I didn’t care if it was a rattlesnake or a mountain lion — whatever fucked with her was a goner. Either Sage or I would get our assassin on and kill it with our bare hands.

  Immediately, the two of us sprang into action, jetting forward with everything we had, only to stop dead as Juni doubled over in giggles a few yards ahead.

  “Damn rabbit!” Dash shouted, firing off a thumbs up at the rest of us while Juni was too busy laughing to notice.

  As if on cue, a jackrabbit came barreling toward us, the big-eared goof dodging Sage at the last second before disappearing into the brush.

  “Wascally wabbit!” Sage corrected, dodging a pile of said bunny’s excrement.
He turned to me with a grin. “Look, I scared the shit out of it!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you blame it?”

  The poor thing probably thought it had made a wrong turn and ended up in the Kodiak at the sight of the grizzly of a man.

  “Hopefully, he didn’t do that to Juni,” he said with a wink, taking my hand briefly as we walked down a pebbled rut. “Or Dash will have a fecal fiancée.”

  The co-pilot was already in position with his camera lifted as Dash and Juni reached the rim of the canyon. We were maybe ten yards back when Dash dropped to one knee, at last.

  Sage and I stopped where we stood, my free hand immediately flying over my mouth to muffle any godawful sobs that were sure to come.

  But Juni, being Juni, didn’t catch Dash’s descent, too focused on the birds flying overhead to notice. She stood there for a good ten seconds until Dash let out a low whistle as if he were calling a dog, beckoning his bird-brained bride-to-be to finally look down.

  She immediately squealed and jumped up and down with her hands flapping in front of her face. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “I didn’t ask yet!” Dash objected with a shake of his head and a laugh.

  Sage squeezed my hand as we looked on at the oh so Juni proposal unfolding in front of us.

  “Juniper Ivy Mullen, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”

  “YES!” she shrieked, bum rushing her now-fiancé and sending the two toppling into the dirt.

  15

  The helicopter trip back to Vegas wasn’t nearly as terrifying, with the buzz of the proposal lifting my spirits high enough that I barely cared about boarding again.

  Ok, that and the half a bottle of champagne I’d downed as we toasted the happy couple repeatedly.

  Once we got to the hotel, the delighted duo scampered off to their next adventure: a romantic scavenger hunt that Dash arranged with the staff in the courtyard.

  Sage and I headed to the elevators, the shower calling my name from the moment I climbed back into the stuffy Adventure Wagon and sat on chewed gum. The afternoon lull was in full swing, and for once, there was an open elevator waiting when we arrived.

  As the doors shut and we were sealed together in its privacy, you could’ve melted steel with the look in Sage’s eyes. He went from smiling and laughing to achingly serious, his green eyes narrowing as he studied me.

  I swallowed as the familiar urge to run came roaring back with a vengeance. Not out of fear, of course, but because I wasn’t confident I could handle it when the other shoe inevitably fell.

  But as soon as he hooked a finger in the pocket of my fleece sweatshirt and tugged me close, I didn’t care. None of that mattered.

  His lips met mine with the same ferocity as the night before, dissolving any and all worry with crushing force. And fuck did he taste good as the whispers of champagne danced on our tongues.

  This time, we understood that time was of the essence, Sage immediately lifting and pinning me to the elevator wall and marking me as his with every brush of lips and swoop of the tongue.

  I gripped his jacket as we learned one another again, our bodies melding together. My skin hummed everywhere he touched, his fingers leaving a scalding trail as they skimmed down to cup my ass.

  My thighs hugged his hips, and with each kiss came more pressure as he ground forward. I felt him — all of him — his deliciously hardened rod ready to roll.

  I would’ve sampled just how hard if the doors hadn’t popped open, my floor arriving far too soon for my liking.

  The harsh clearing of a throat left us scrambling apart, Sage gently guiding me back to the floor where I landed on knock-kneed legs. A brawny arm looped over my shoulders to steady me as we turned to leave, meeting the passion crasher head on — a pair of elderly women. One of which — I’m assuming the throat clearer — was cherry red with an angry finger jutted toward us.

  “Oh, Ethel, looks like the tawdry sex express arrived,” she grumbled, waving the pointed digit at Sage’s crotch. “Let’s hope that isn’t the pork loin from the buffet in his pants.”

  Her friend laughed as she stepped in, extending her purple cane in front of the doors to keep them open so we could escape. “Now, Margie, it’s not like you weren’t a little hussy with Howard when you were young!” She looked to us with a knowing smile. “Have fun, kids!”

  Margie’s mouth puckered, and she swatted at Ethel with her wicker handbag just as the doors shut.

  “Pork loin, huh?” Sage chuckled. “I don’t know if I should be flattered that it’s big or offended that she called me a pig.”

  “A mix of both,” I said with a shrug, leaning against him as we stumbled through the hall in what felt like slow motion.

  As we reached my door, I snagged my keycard from my purse and handed it to him, letting him lead the way and check the room just as he had the night before.

  With the coast clear, he led me inside, fishing the do not disturb sign and hanging it on the exterior handle before barring us from the world with a shut of the door.

  I wandered in to set my purse on the end table, feeling Sage in hot pursuit. He caught my wrist as I set it down, spinning me slowly to face him.

  “Take these off,” he growled, hooking his fingers in my sunglasses before I could stop him.

  He visibly stiffened when he saw my face, but he didn’t cringe, so that was something, right? At the same time, I didn’t think many things in life were more of a boner killer than a black eye.

  Rather than run away screaming, he gently placed my sunglasses beside my handbag before cradling my face in his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, craning his head to press a kiss on my forehead. “If I ever see that piece of shit again, I’ll need bail money.”

  The threat drifted across my skin, and I knew he wasn’t merely blowing hot air. He would, without a doubt, beat Trey to a pulp. “Noted.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning back to search my face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m fine,” I assured, tossing out a half-smirk before delivering my biggest lie to date. “You won’t hurt me.”

  He pulled me close at the invitation, his hands gripping the hem of my fleece before pulling it — and the t-shirt beneath — off in a single tug.

  Naturally, I was wearing an old, white bralette. Down below, there was an equally boring white thong. It wasn’t like I was expecting to show either to anyone.

  If he thought it was ugly, Sage didn’t show it, his eyes ravaging the exposed skin. He wasn’t even touching me, and I was on fire.

  He unzipped his jacket and dropped it to the floor before yanking his t-shirt over his head.

  All I could do was stare in awe at the cut body in front of me. A wall of muscled pecs and abs trickled down to an Adonis belt I wanted to take a one-way trip down with my tongue.

  Holy hell.

  He took a step back to kick his shoes off, his eyes never leaving mine. “Strip.”

  I reached for the clasp behind me, my fingers fumbling with the metal bracket as I matched him in stepping out of my sneakers. As the bralette fell, a cool rush of air washed over me, my flesh exposed entirely from the waist up.

  My hands skimmed to my waistband but hesitated. At the pause, his hands rested on mine, guiding the leggings down to the floor before sliding back up and repeating the process with my thong. As he did, I’d never been more thankful for splurging on body waxing in my life.

  In the end, I stood exposed in nothing but a pair of pink naughty socks, a fitting choice for the occasion.

  I bent to yank them off, and as I did, he unzipped his jeans and tugged them down along with his boxers, his bare cock jutting out and almost hitting my eye.

  That would have been a hell of a way to end up with two black eyes, and I wasn’t sure how I would’ve explained it away.

  “I’m going to go start the shower,” I announced before nerves got the best of me.

  As much as I wanted to get down and dirty, I
needed a shower first. I couldn’t have sex with Sage at anything less than my absolute best. We had one shot, and I’d make it count.

  He followed me into the bathroom, watching me crank the handle, looking every bit the Grecian god he was with his perfect body — including his dick.

  That’s right: I made a living making pretty fake dicks, yet he blew my work out of the water with his natural-born gift. No fair.

  “Come here.” His voice was gruff, matching the heat in his eyes.

  I obeyed, expecting him to kiss me when I came to a stop, but he didn’t. He sucked in a raspy breath instead. “You’re fucking perfect.”

  “Far from it,” I scoffed.

  His body was perfect. I… I was trying to keep my shit together with rolls of duct tape at that point.

  “You sure about that?” he asked with a raised brow.

  I nodded. “Positive.”

  I was as fucked up as I was naked, but so was he.

  “Hmm,” he rumbled, reaching out to fan his fingers across the vanity next to me. “You might want to take that back.”

  I cocked my head as he traced figure-eights on the marble. “Why’s that?”

  He shook his head with a husky laugh. “Sorry, I can’t tell you.”

  “Why?” I pushed, never one for guessing games.

  He gripped me by the shoulders and spun me around, pressing my front to the cool countertop as we faced the mirror. His hands dropped to my ribs, his fingers splaying beneath my breasts from behind.

  “Because I’m more of a show-er, Rini.”

  Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me, setting my knees on the counter and spreading my legs wide as he lowered me down, my ass dangling off the edge. At the angle, my only option was to rock forward on my hands or risk falling.

  The bathroom was still cold despite the steam beginning to billow from the shower stall, my legs meeting the chill of the stone countertop with goosebumps. But that was tolerable compared to the rush of cool air on my most sensitive parts, the tickle torturous against the heat.

  Just as soon as I balanced myself in the awkward position, I heard the snap of a condom, and Sage shoved himself inside me from behind. One of his hands sunk into my hair, snapping my head back to expose my front as he worked into me.