Eight Dates With Romance: An S. L. Scott Valentine's Day Collection

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-940071-32-9

Cover design: Melissa Ringuette of Monark Design Services

Cover photographer:

Igor Mojzes

Viorel Sima

Images:
Dollarphotoclub.com

Editing:

Marla Esposito of Proofing Style

ISBN: 978-1-940071-32-9

T
hank
you from the bottom of my heart

Introduction

F
rom New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
, S. L. Scott, comes a Limited Edition collection of romantic interludes taken from eight of her bestselling novels.

Chapters from
:

The Resistance

The Reckoning

From the Inside Out

A Prior Engagement

Naturally, Charlie.

Valentine’s Day Outtakes from:

The Redemption

The Welcome to Paradise Series

Morning Glory

BONUS - BRAND NEW MATERIAL INCLUDED:

Love Emails exchanged between The Resistance Characters – Holliday and Dalton.

A romantic date with Hazel & Jude from Until I Met You – A California Outtake.

Chapter One

Naturally, Charlie

I
n this friends
to lovers story, our beloved characters meet up for one of the first times to go out on the town with their friends in tow.

♂

J
ustin tosses
me a bottle of beer as he flops onto the large chair next to the couch. I lean back after punching the couch cushion into a more comfortable shape.

“So,” he says, “you want to hit it tonight? It is Friday, after all.”

We’re watching the sports recap from the week on television and just polished off an extra-large pizza. “After that carb overload, sleep sounds good.” I moan for extra emphasis while rubbing my stomach.

“Forget that! We’re going out. There are women in this city who haven’t had the pleasure of my company yet.” He stands and opens the door. “You’ve got one hour to recover. I’ll text you where to meet.”

I throw a pillow, but it hits the back of the door, because he’s already gone.

Rolling onto my side, I stare at the television. Do I want to go out? Not really. That just reminds me of my massive failing this week. If I’d gotten Charlie’s number, I would’ve asked her out for tonight. Short notice, but I hate those dating rules. If I like a girl, I call her right away because I want to see her. Why play games?

I need a distraction, because the wallowing will ruin the day, so I get up.

An hour and a half later, I’m at the bar of some pale blue fluorescent-lit, sleek and modern ultra-lounge in SoHo waiting on Justin to show. Two women have already approached me, but I’m not in the mood for that tonight.

Justin saunters in, and I down the last of my Jack and Coke as he orders his drink. He turns to me and asks, “New suit?”

“Newish.”

“How’s the scene?” He leans his elbows on the bar and scopes out the place.

“Boring.”

“No hot chicks?”

“Plenty of hot women.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I sigh, setting my drink back down on the bar, and lie. “No problem.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check the text, and my eyebrows rise in surprise. I hit Justin in the chest. “Cancel the drink. We’re leaving.”

“What? No! I just made eye contact with the sweetie in the corner.”

“The one in corner with the bachelorette party?”

“Yep.”

“No. Just no. They’re too young.”

“They’re at least twenty-one.” I grab him by the tie and head for the door. “Fine,” he whines, and I drop my hand. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Tribeca”

I knew what was waiting for me when I walked into the club, but I didn’t expect to feel this way. My heart races, and I feel breathless. There she is—purple dress, sexy shoes, her hair is down with soft curls, eyes closed—swaying to the music. Charlie is beautiful, and I walk straight for her. Justin trails behind.

“Damn! You see that girl?” he asks, walking past me.

“I see her.”

Rachel is next to Charlie, and at least three guys are vying for their attention. Justin stops right in front of Charlie, but as I approach, I shift him over.

She opens her eyes and they connect with mine. Her mouth drops open as she steals a quick breath. “Charlie!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around my neck.

Wrapping my arms tightly around her waist, I feel very possessive of her. I shoot the three stand-bys one glare each that says all they need to know:
she’s with me.

After they leave, I whisper into her ear, “Hi.” No great line or clever quip, just a simple greeting.

By the time she releases me, it’s just us. Rachel and Justin are heading to the bar.

Charlie looks up at me and smiles. “Hi. I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

“I’m here.”

Dragging her hands down the front of my suit, her fingers grasp my lapels. “Yes, you are. You look nice.”

“Thanks. You look . . .” I want to say “stunning” or “breathtaking.” Instead, I settle for, “Beautiful.”

She’s shy and tilts her face away. “Thank you.”

When she looks back, she drops her hands as if she realizes she shouldn’t be touching me in such a familiar manner. She doesn’t know how much I like her hands on me, at least she doesn’t know yet. I have hopes to clarify a few feelings tonight.

Justin hands Charlie an orange-colored martini, and Rachel gives me a JD and Coke. “Thank you.”

Rachel leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Charlie watches, studying the interaction. “Nice to see you again,” I say. I look down at my drink, not wanting to give any mixed signals of why I’m here.

“You look great,” Rachel replies, running her hand down my arm.

I glance at Charlie who is looking more uncomfortable by the second. Reaching over, I rub her waist in reassurance. The action isn’t lost on Rachel. “Thanks.” I remain staring into Charlie’s eyes, enjoying the view. “You’re looking lovely tonight, also.”

Rachel starts to flirt with both Justin and me, but I’ve come to realize that’s how she is with men. Justin is so entranced by her that he’s hanging on her every word, which is a good distraction for her.

But for Charlie, it’s too late. She’s irritated, and spats out, “I’m going to the restroom.”

She turns so abruptly that some of her drink splashes out of the glass. I follow behind.

“Charlie, wait up!” It’s loud and I don’t know if she can hear me. Guys are ogling her as she passes, a few saying hello, but she ignores them all. I call out once more. “Charlie, stop!”

She does with a huff, looking over her shoulder. Her expression’s no longer playful like before. I can see her feelings are hurt. “I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

“No, I’m a big girl. I think I can manage my way back.”

“Don’t do this.” My hand finds her shoulder, trying to calm her.

She backs up, not wanting me to touch her. “Don’t do what? I’m going to the bathroom.” She’s saying one thing, but her defensiveness is obvious.

“No, you’re escaping from a situation that you have all wrong.”

Her hand flies to her hip, and her shoulders go back. “I have it all wrong? Listen, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t owe you anything. The other day,” she says, her hand waving wildly in the air, “was just two people doing each other a favor, I guess.” Her eyes drop to the ground, and she sighs. “That’s what I read all wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. It meant something to me. That back there,” I signal toward Rachel and Justin, “doesn’t.”

“You don’t have to answer to me, Charlie.” Her voice is quieter as she lowers her hand in defeat.

I step closer, and this time she doesn’t move, which is good. Pulling her to the side for more privacy, I back her against the wall. “I came tonight because Rachel texted me and said you’d be here. I’m here for you, not her.”

“She did?”

I nod, and a small smile grows as she processes that information, her features softening under my gaze. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. Tough week … for both of us.”

“Yeah, tough week.” I’ll blame the heaviness of the week if that makes it easier for her to accept the jealousy she just felt. “I’ll hold your drink and wait here if you still need to use the restroom.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I watch as she pushes the door open, her body less rigid. She glances back over her shoulder, and our eyes meet before the door closes.

I get a few looks, but no one bothers me since it’s apparent I’m waiting for someone because of the two drinks in my hands.

When she returns, she’s smiling. “I don’t like this drink. Can I try yours?”

“Sure.”

I watch as her lips press against the glass and she sips, oh so slow. “That’s much better.” And with that, all the bad from minutes earlier seems to be forgotten.

“Let’s remedy that and get you one.”

We walk through the crowd, past Rachel and Justin who don’t even notice us, to the bar. I’ve kept my hand on her lower back, not able to stop myself from touching her.

After I buy her another drink, she asks, “Do you dance?”

“Not if I don’t have to.”

That makes her laugh, and hearing her laugh makes me laugh, too. “I love to dance, but I don’t like the bump and grind kind of dancing unless I’m dating the guy. I don’t like strangers groping me.”

I look over at the dance floor. “That’s all they’re doing out there.” I lean in closer and whisper, “And I wouldn’t like strangers groping you either.” Her eyes seek mine, sparkling from the spotlights over the bar. I lean back, resting my elbows on the bar so I’m eye level with her. “What do you like to do for fun, Charlie?”

Smiling as if embarrassed, she laughs under her breath. Her shy side is back. “I like to bake. I know, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “My friends used to call me lame for it, but I find it relaxing. It’s a science to me, an experiment.”

How can I not like that? “What do you like to bake?”

“Cakes and cupcakes. Cupcakes are all the rage right now with all these cupcake bakeries popping up everywhere, but I still prefer to make my own.”

“I have a terrible sweet tooth. You might have met your match.” I’m not talking about baking.

“I should make you some. My coworkers have forbidden me from bringing anymore in since they all gained weight.” She laughs again. “What’s your favorite flavor? No, wait! Don’t answer that. I’ll guess.”

“How about instead of guessing, you make some and we’ll go from there.”

“A challenge? I like a good challenge.” She looks me over, analyzing everything about me physically as if that will lead her to my favorite flavor. The next thing she says takes me by surprise. “How about Wednesday?”

She’s setting a date. I like that. “I’m good on Wednesday.”

“You can come over after work—”

“I can bring dinner.”

“And I can bake.” She looks excited, probably because of the baking part, but I like to think it’s about us spending time together again.

I turn back to my drink, deciding I need to finish it and stop staring at the girl. I don’t want to creep her out. I order another, and we chat, getting to know each other in a different way. Although, I feel like I know her—the real Charlie—already.

When we talk about our work, she seems impressed. “Following your dreams. I love that,” she says, wistful.

After another round of cocktails, we look for our friends. A bit unsteady on our feet, we can’t find either of them and joke that they might be hooking up as we speak.

I can tell Charlie is heading toward drunk, so I offer to help her home.

“What time is it?” she asks as we walk out of the club, the brisk spring air hitting us.

“Late,” I reply. “It’s after one.”

“It doesn’t feel late, and I’m not tired.”

I grab her elbow to steady her as she begins to sway. “It is, though. Let’s take a cab.” We get in the short cab line and wait.

“I can take a taxi by myself. You don’t have to worry about me.” She wraps her arm around my mine, holding me close, keeping her warm.

There’s no way I’m sending her in a cab this late by herself. I’m going with her. “No, it’s fine.”

“Well, if we’re sharing a cab,” she says, approaching the curb. We’re next. “Let’s go to yours. I want to read some of your writing.”

I grin to myself and tease her. “I don’t know if you’re in any condition to read right now.”

“I’m not ready to go home, Charlie. I can call Rachel if you’re too tired.”

This girl is complete trouble. “Okay, fine.” I give into her. “We’ll go to mine.”

“You made a rhyme.”

“I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” protests the drunk girl next to me. She ducks her body into the taxi, and we take off after I give directions. “You live in a fancy schmancy part of town,” she says. Her body is snuggled against mine.

“You’ll be disappointed then.”

“I doubt I could be disappointed with anything when it comes to you.”

I look at her, shocked by her comment, but she smiles all smug before resting her head on my shoulder. She’s trouble, and I debate whether I should be taking her to my place. I have nothing to hide from her, but the way she’s acting, I’m equally nervous and excited of where this might lead. I won’t take advantage of her, but her cuteness is wearing my willpower down.

I rub my hands over my face, knowing I drank too much as well. I’ll pay for this tomorrow, but I’m going to be happy in the now.

“I like it,” she says when we arrive. Dropping her purse on the entry table, she does a slow spin, taking it all in. “It suits you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I toss my jacket on the couch.

“Yes, it’s a compliment.”

“A drink? Water, beer—”

“Please. Whatever you’re having.”

I grab two beers out of the fridge and twist the caps off, tossing them into the bowl on the bar. I’ve had a weird obsession with collecting beer caps for a few years now. I watch her from the kitchen as she looks at my bookcase, running her finger along my desk. She moves to the window and looks out.

“You have a balcony,” she states. “Can we go out?”

“Mmhm.” I hand her the bottle and open the door for her.

We drink in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the calm compared to the loud thumping of the club. It’s breezy and a little chilly, but not cold tonight. She sets her beer down on the small bistro table and leans on the rail, stepping out of her shoes.

“You’re short.”

That makes her giggle. “Did I kill the illusion?”

“Ha! Not for me.”

“Wait until you see me without makeup then. It’s all a mask to hide the hideousness.”

Setting my drink down. I think I’m also done drinking for the night. Playfully nudging her with my elbow, I shrug. “Whatever. I bet you look even prettier without makeup.”

She bellows in laughter, her head dropping back. “Now that’s a challenge I won’t accept.” She turns more serious as she faces me. “Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Shifting her weight onto one ankle, she nervously asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” Not what I meant to say at all. Her face falls. Damn it! She threw me off—

“Never mind. It was silly. I just haven’t been kissed in so long, and I miss—”

I step forward, closing the gap. Cupping her face in my hands, I kiss her, cutting off her words and ending her doubts.