Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After: A Short Story Collection Read online

  Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After

  a short story collection

  Daisy Prescott

  Contents

  A Note from Daisy

  TAKE TWO

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  TAKE FOR GRANTED

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  A Note from Daisy Prescott

  OUTDOOR SHOWER

  Introduction

  The Infamous Outdoor Shower Sex Scene

  TAKE THE CAKE AND RUN

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  TAKE IT EASY

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  GIVE AND TAKE

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 5

  TWO WINGMEN AND A BABY

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  OLAF’S CHRISTMAS CAROL

  Introduction

  A Very Merry Olaf Christmas

  THE PINK PEARL

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  More books by Daisy Prescott

  About Daisy

  Copyright

  Take Two Copyright © Daisy Prescott 2014, All rights reserved.

  Take for Granted © Daisy Prescott 2015, All rights reserved.

  Outdoor Shower © Daisy Prescott 2017, All rights reserved.

  Take the Cake and Run © Daisy Prescott 2014, All rights reserved.

  Take it Easy © Daisy Prescott 2015, All rights reserved.

  Give and Take © Daisy Prescott 2015, All rights reserved.

  Two Wingmen and a Baby © Daisy Prescott 2016, All rights reserved.

  Olaf’s Christmas Carol © Daisy Prescott 2016, All rights reserved.

  The Pink Pearl © Daisy Prescott 2013, All rights reserved.

  A Note from Daisy

  Thank you for picking up this collection of short stories from my Modern Love Stories and Wingmen series.

  Over the years I've received hundreds of messages and emails asking if I'll write more of certain characters. While each love story is complete with a HEA, the characters continue to live on in my mind and for the readers who love them. It's tough to say good-bye to our book boyfriends and fictional friends when a book ends. A peek into the future is always fun for me to write and wonderful to share with you.

  Several of the stories have hidden Easter Eggs for other novels if you're paying attention. Can you spot them?

  I hope you enjoy spending time again with your favorite characters from my series.

  Thanks for reading!

  xo Daisy

  Make sure you're subscribed to my monthly emails. I share exclusive shorts, sneak peeks, excerpts, and all my latest news directly to your inbox. I promise never to spam you. You can subscribe here.

  TAKE TWO

  A Modern Love Story Short

  Introduction

  Take Two was included in the first volume of the LOL Anthology and is my first story to hit the USA Today Best Sellers' list. Four years after publication, readers still ask about the characters from Geoducks Are for Lovers. I love hearing readers are Team Gil. This short is a glimpse into their lives a few months after their college reunion and overlaps with the beginning of Ready to Fall. I love interweaving the Modern Love Story characters with my Wingmen.

  Life rarely gives second chances.

  With the help of meddling friends, the world's largest burrowing clam, and a hot lumberjack, Maggie Marrion and Gil Morrow got their second chance at love in Geoducks Are for Lovers.

  Now living together, they're discovering that sometimes the second time around, especially when it comes to sex, is better than the first. Or can be with the help of magical blue pills.

  Is a trip to the ER worth it for a night of wild sex at forty?

  Take Two is intended for mature audiences, 18 and up, because it contains middle age people kissing, recreational prescription drug use, and outdated references to the late 20th century.

  This Modern Love Story Short takes place chronologically after Geoducks Are for Lovers and before Wanderlust.

  Chapter 1

  Maggie

  Friday …

  Cardboard boxes and plastic bins cluttered the downstairs of Gil’s house. I’d been spending more and more time here since the reunion. Last weekend, we’d finally gone to the island and loaded two cars full of boxes, which contained more kitchen stuff than clothes. Or shoes. Luckily, Gil had bachelor cupboards and closets. I teased him about his limited collection of mismatched bowls, pint glasses and single cookie sheet, but I was delighted for all the extra space.

  His constant reminders that his house was now our house made me happy in a way I’d never imagined six months ago. My beloved stainless steel stand mixer sat on the counter next to his deluxe coffee/espresso machine.

  “Why does anyone need so many glass jars?” he asked, emptying one of my boxes, glass clinking against glass.

  “Why does anyone need so many pint glasses?” I gestured at the open cabinet.

  “Beer, water, gin & tonics … iced tea.” He smiled. “Want me to go on?”

  “You’ve covered four of the major beverage groups.”

  “I have wine glasses, too.”

  “It looks like you’ve done all your shopping in the gift shops of micro-breweries and wineries.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” His chuckle was low and settled deep under my skin.

  “Not at all.” I set my Mason jars alongside his collection on the shelf.

  “Are you smiling at the cupboard?” He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

  I tried and failed to temper my grin. “I am. I’m remembering the first time we shared a kitchen.” I wondered if we’d still dance to “Call Me Al” in this kitchen the way we had all those years ago.

  “Listen Betty, college didn’t count.” Gil’s chest rumbled with his laughter against my back. He’d remembered too. “Plus, we had housemates.”

  “We were friends.”

  “Without benefits.” He swept my hair down my back.

  “We were friends.”

  “We were silly youth who thought we knew everything and had all the time in the world to let things unfold.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “Silly, stupid girl.” I couldn’t argue with him. My smile returned thinking about this moment and this life, and how unexpected and right it felt to be here.

  “It’s ridiculous how happy I am right now.” I pulled his hand to my lips and kissed the back.

  “Happy enough for pie making?”

  “Is this a euphemism or real pie, involving filling?”

  His arms tightened around me and he dragged his scruff over the skin between the collar of my sweater and my jaw. I shivered. Oh, two could play at this game. I arched my back and rubbed my ass against his jeans.

 
; “Filling could apply to either.” His fingers slid closer to my breasts. “I love your pie. What kind is up to you.”

  “Filling? Really?”

  “You said it first.”

  My heart thumped quicker in my chest. After months of flirting on the phone, our not-so-dirty euphemisms still made me smile. They weren’t sexy, or really all that dirty, but they were goofy like us. “I’ll never get all these boxes unpacked.”

  “Let’s chuck them all. We can live with pint glasses, jars and paper plates.” His hands traveled over the soft swell of my bra and he stepped impossibly closer. He lowered his voice. “I'd rather fill a box—”

  “Gil …”

  “Maggie …” He squeezed me while grinding his hips.

  “You’re kidding about the paper plates, right?”

  His chuckle was muffled, but audible. “I’m trying seduce you and get you to make out with me. Forget about the unpacking.”

  “Oh,” I said when his fingers found my nipples.

  “Oh,” he said. “I do believe she’s catching on now.”

  “The unpacking can wait.”

  “It can.”

  I peered over my shoulder into his deep brown eyes. “We could at least clear off the counter.”

  He glanced behind us at the island and then quickly back at me with a silent question.

  “It looks like it could be an ideal height.”

  His expression morphed with restrained excitement. “For?”

  “Rolling out pie crust.” I turned in his arms to face him and pushed against his chest, encouraging him to back up.

  He groaned and grabbed my ass, pulling me along with him. “I’m sure it’ll be great for that, but let’s test it out for other things first.” He grinned, and then swept his arm out, knocking the empty boxes to the floor where they landed with soft thuds.

  I matched his expression. Dark hair surrounded a face I’d known half my life. I trailed my hands over the deep green thermal covering his broad shoulders and down his toned biceps.

  His long fingers wrapped around my waist and easily lifted me up to the cool granite of the counter. He settled his hips between my legs before kissing me softly at the corner of my mouth.

  “Nothing more than this,” he whispered against my ear, his warm breath tickling me as he sang along to the song playing on the kitchen's speakers.

  I hummed at his words and the memories they conjured. My gaze met his for a few beats.

  This man. This man was everything.

  I reached for his fly and what strained hard and heavy beneath the denim.

  Our pants ended up on the floor as we lost ourselves in each other. Hands swept over warm skin. Tongues teased and tasted. I tugged down his boxers until they skimmed his legs to puddle at his feet. I was right. This counter was the perfect height for his six foot frame.

  I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the electric chime of the doorbell.

  “Expecting anyone?” he asked, his breath husky from our counter encounter.

  “No one ever expects the kraken.”

  “We’re landlocked.”

  “Land shark?” I asked.

  He responded by tugging on my earlobe with his teeth.

  I moaned. “There’s a river. Two rivers. Double the odds for a kraken.”

  “Do krakens live in the Willamette?”

  “I was thinking more the Columbia.”

  “Oh, sure, the Columbia. Don’t they need the deep, dank depths of the oceans?” He pulled away to meet my gaze.

  “You’re questioning kraken habitat?”

  “No, of course not. That would be silly.”

  The ringing from the hall continued.

  “Should we get that?” I asked.

  “Probably.”

  “We could pretend we’re not home.”

  Loud knocking replaced the chimes of the doorbell.

  “They seem pushy for Jehovah’s Witnesses. Or those sweet Mormon missionary boys.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a thing for young men on bicycles?”

  I laughed. “No, but my grandmother used to invite them in for lemonade and cookies. Then, flirted with them.”

  A combination of knocking and ringing created a cacophony at the front door.

  Gil sighed and reached for his jeans. “I should probably put my pants back on and answer it.”

  “Go pants-less. That’ll show them.”

  He shuffled himself back into his boxers and jeans. I watched his long fingers button his fly, mourning the loss of the view.

  “That looks uncomfortable.” I pointed at the outline of his hard length.

  “It’s not ideal.” He shook his head.

  “It’s a shame really.” I pouted. “Damn kraken.”

  “You might want to get dressed in case it’s someone we know,” he called out as he walked down the hall. “I’m coming.”

  “You were about to.” I snickered.

  “Get dressed, Maggie May. It’s Selah.”

  At the mention of my best friend’s name, I hopped off the counter, straightened my sweater, and then located my jeans on the floor near the stove.

  “What’s this about coming?” Selah’s voice rang out from the door.

  I hopped around, pulling up my jeans as her boots echoed down the hall.

  “Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have brought up the kraken three times. Selah’s like Beetlejuice.” I smiled when her familiar dark bob appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

  “Who are you calling a kraken?” Selah eyed my disheveled appearance, scanning my rumpled clothing. “You might want to zip your jeans, Maggie. Looks like I’m interrupting something delightful.” Glee danced in her green eyes.

  I quickly adjusted and zipped my jeans. “As a matter of fact—”

  “Maggie was about to make a pie.” Gil interrupted.

  Selah’s head turned as she studied the kitchen. A few full boxes sat on the counter and empty boxes lay on their sides, scattered across the floor. There was no flour, or other baking supplies, in sight. She returned her focus to me and arched her eyebrow. “Really? We’re going with the pie euphemism?”

  My cheeks heated.

  “Well, that blush, and the fact you can still blush at your advanced age, tells me everything I need to know.” She patted my hair, which was tangled from Gil’s fingers.

  After swatting away her hands and then smoothing down my hair, I opened the fridge to cool my face, mumbling about krakens and Beetlejuice. “Want something to drink?”

  “No, can’t stay. Just stopping by to drop off your housewarming gift.”

  “I’ve lived here for years,” Gil said.

  “You don’t count. Okay, it’s more of a shacking up gift.”

  “Please don’t let it be a sex swing or restraints, or other kinky stuff,” I said mostly to myself.

  “As if I’d buy you two a sex swing.” She looked up to the ceiling. “I’m not sure these plaster ceilings could handle it.”

  “I don’t know whether or not to be insulted,” Gil said.

  “Oh, I know the best place to get one if you want me to take this back.” She placed a red gift bag on the counter.

  “You have a sex swing?” My voice revealed both my fear and fascination about her answer.

  “No, not me. Whatshisface from the tech startup did. You know all those successful businessmen, captain of industry types, are into the kinky stuff.” Her sigh held an unspoken nostalgia.

  “Before this turns into Cougar Confessions, are you sure you don’t want a beer or wine? Coffee?” Gil walked over to my newly organized cupboard and grabbed a pint glass. He held it up and smiled at me.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Okay, fine. Twist my arm. I’ll have coffee.” Selah settled herself on one of the counter stools.

  While the scent of brewing coffee filled the kitchen, Gil and Selah chatted about their upcoming classes and who had the worse teaching load for spring semester.

/>   “What’s happening with your beach cabin while you two play love nest down here in Portland?” she asked, adding cream to her cup.

  “I was going to leave it empty for the winter, but Quinn called from New York asking for a favor. A friend of his and Ryan’s needs a short term rental. Bad divorce. How could I say no?” When Quinn called and explained about his friend Diane’s bastard soon-to-be-ex-husband, I couldn’t turn her away. Divorce was tough enough when it was amicable or apathetic. I knew from experience.

  “Is she hot?” Selah asked.

  “Are you asking for yourself?”

  She scoffed. “No, for John. I’m sure he misses flirting with you every day.”

  Gil grumbled from his corner of the counter.

  “I hadn’t even thought about John. The whole thing happened so quickly. Guess I should let him know.”

  “I’d hate for John to show up for his morning Maggie—sorry Gil, I mean coffee—and be devastated.” Selah smiled with her typical twinkle in her eye. The finger twirling a short lock of her hair was the tell that she was up to no good and deliberately pushing Gils buttons.

  Gil growled and muttered, “I’m sure the lumberjack will be fine on his own.”

  “Does the caveman thing turn you on, Maggie?” Selah laughed. “Cause it’s working for me. I didn’t know if you had it in you, G.”

  “Works for me, too.” I winked at her and wrapped my arms around his hips. He leaned down to kiss me softly on the lips. I kissed him back for a moment, rekindling what Selah had interrupted.

  “Gah, you two are like horny teenagers.” She coughed.

  I smiled up at the man I loved. His hair had silver sprinkled through the dark, but his eyes were the same ones that made me swoon in college.

  “Okay, before you two start making out again, or finish whatever it was you were doing when I arrived.” She eyed the counter and strewn boxes. “Open your gift.”