Surprised by Love RomCom Bundle

Get ready for a collection of heartwarming and hilarious romantic comedies that will make you believe in love all over again! From high school sweethearts to celebrity crushes, from makeovers to forbidden crushes, these stories have it all.

In "The High School Reunion," follow our heroine as she turns a humiliating breakup into a chance to reignite an old flame. Will pretending to be back together with her ex lead to a real second chance at love?

In “The Terrible Personal Shopper,” join Leila as she travels the world with her ultimate celebrity crush. But can she keep her personal feelings in check while trying to be a professional personal shopper? Or will her heart lead her astray?

In "The Makeover Surprise,” watch as Lucy transforms from a comfort-over-fashion kind of girl to a Malibu Barbie. But when she runs into Mr. Businessman, will he recognize her true self, or only be interested in the glammed-up version? And can Lucy find true love while navigating the world of manipulative dating advice?

And finally, in "The New Girl Next Door," Chessy finds herself falling for her neighbor, a single dad, and the father of one of her kindergarten students. But with an ex-wife who's also her boss, will they be able to overcome the obstacles and find a happy ending?

Full of humor, heart, and swoon-worthy romance, this complete collection of stories is a must-read for any fan of romantic comedies.

There are three types of showers that I take. The, what I call, in and out:  I soap and scrub for as little time as possible while leaning forward so as not to get my hair wet. Then I hop out and towel off before my hair starts to frizz in the steam.

This is the type of shower I take when I’m running late for work––or when my mother calls to announce that she’s in town and wants to swing by for a visit.

And judging by how often I’m pressing the snooze button in the mornings, it’s probably the type of shower I take most often.

Then there’s the lather and shave shower: I shampoo and condition my hair, bending in awkward ways to reach everywhere I can with the razor. And despite my best endeavors, I almost always cut something.

Then there’s the goddess shower: I dust off all of my self-care tools, like the long-handled brush with bristles made of sandpaper, which scrubs off the top two layers of my skin.

My body mask. Jar of mud. Himalayan salts. And when I’m feeling particularly joie de vivre, I’ll light a candle or two as well.

Then I embark on a powerful journey of equal parts self-love and self-destruction. As I scrub, shave, steam and soak my whole body in an attempt to turn my thirty-something body into a high school cheerleader.

The goddess shower is so time intensive, that it is only practiced when super special occasions come up.

Like today, when Todd, my long-term boyfriend, has just invited me to have dinner with him at the Ritz.

This is it. 

There’s only one reason a boyfriend of three years suddenly invites his girlfriend to a place as grand and luxurious as The Ritz.

A proposal.

Just the thought gives me butterflies.

Finally, all of my feminine wiles have charmed the rich bachelor into making the move. 

That makes me sound like a money grabber. 

I’m not.

I like Todd a lot. He ticks all of the boxes.

He’s handsome - his angular face sticks out in all the right places, strong jaw, nice cheekbones. Dimples.

He’s funny - he often takes me to fancy dinner parties at work and has the whole room laughing with his dry wit.

Kind - Yes, he’s rich and successful, but he’s let none of it go to his head. The other day, I saw him giving flowers to Margery, the newly widowed neighbor in the ground floor apartment of his complex and he listened to her talking about her late husband until he was late for a meeting.

On second thought, maybe tonight he’s going to ask me to move in with him.

I suck in a nervous breath at the idea.

Moving in with Todd sets my A type brain into overdrive. Without the commitment of marriage, how can I be certain where we’ll end up in three months? Six months. Nine years!

If I don’t make a solid plan now, I could end up sitting on the sidewalk with two luggage bags and nowhere to call home in the future.

Sure, people get divorced, so marriage isn’t without its risks, but the idea of selling up my apartment and going all-in without some kind of assurance that he’s not going to run off with the secretary at any given moment makes me sick to the stomach with anxiety.

I’m the kind of person who needs to know what is happening, and I need the big relationship stuff to be in writing before I make any major moves.

And there’s one person to blame for my crazy mindset. Logan.

He had me lured in, dropping all the barriers around my heart, and oh, how I swooned over that man! He was my high school sweetheart. Then my college sweetheart. And then he became an NFL player and… Logan dropped me faster than a millennial giving up on their new year resolutions.

Todd came along and he’s the total opposite to Logan. He’s suave, cool and gentle. Attentive. I have to wonder if the guy is a saint, because we’ve never even passed second base and he’s still around.

But if I’m brutally honest with myself, I just don’t feel that zing with Todd.

Not like the way I was with Logan.

With Logan, I had the primal urge to jump on him and tear his shirt off like a wild tiger tucking into its prey.

But I’m not that kind of person. Not anymore. Now, I love watching the sickly sweet romances that most of my friends roll their eyes over. They make me feel happy and content.

Now, the thought of ripping shirts and getting intimate, makes me slightly nauseous.

To be that vulnerable with a person requires a lot of commitment.

I want a ring on my finger, and a decent heads up so I can prepare for it.

Then I can schedule a full body wax, do a sixty day workout program, followed by a juice cleanse to get my body in shape and then I’ll read self help books to get an idea of what I’m supposed to do.

But physical stuff aside, Todd and I are a good match. And with our relationship moving forward, it might make me more assertive at work. Maybe I’ll get a promotion.

Besides, moving out of my rotten apartment will be nice.

I flick my hair back and look at myself in the wall mirror by the door. The red dress clings to me like a second skin, and if it didn’t have my shape wear on, I’m pretty sure I’d look like an over-filled sausage link.

“Take a breath Josie. You look cute.”

I nod to my reflection, repeating affirmations in my head. It helps with the sickly feeling swirling around in my stomach.

I glance at my bare wedding finger.

Yes, tonight, Todd is going to put a ring on it. And it’s about freaking time as well.

The buzzer makes me jump.

He’s here.

I slap on a slick of red lipstick, throw my purse over my shoulder and march out of the door, grinning from ear to ear.

*

I look around me in the most prestigious restaurant in the city. It’s all glitzy with the fancy chandeliers, and carpeted floors.

The gentle murmur of the guests and the clink of cutlery sounds almost muted against the orchestral music playing in the background.

The servers look like the penguins in Mary Poppins. With black suits that pleat at the back and white button up shirts with black buttons.

One of them leans over, smelling of musk and essential oils, and pours the finest wine into my glass.

“Thank you,” I say in my poshest voice.

Todd sits across the table, looking dashing as ever. His jet black hair is gelled to the side, and his eyes keep moving, as though he’s keeping a look out for something.

A shiny sheen of sweat covers his upper lip.

He’s nervous.

“So, this is nice,” I say, breaking the silence. He looks at me now, and tugs on his shirt collar as he clears his throat.

“How was the salmon?” he asks me. I give him an appreciative nod. “Delicious.”

He puffs out a breath and sits up. “Good, good.”

He had been quiet all through dinner. Part of me wonders if he’s going to back out. I’ve never seen him this worked up before.

“Josie, I’ve brought you here to talk to you about something.”

I set down my fork and sit up. This is it.

“Oh, is everything all right at work?” I ask, playing it cool. He waves a hand aside.

“Yes, yes. Fine.”

I ask myself if he’s going to repeat everything he says from now on? Will you marry me? Marry me? Like he’s a human echo.

“Good,” I say, blinking slowly and trying to keep eye contact. He averts his gaze and dabs his face with a table napkin.

“Okay, I’m just going to come out and say it.” He looks at me again and clears his throat. 

I hold my breath.

“Josie, we’ve been together for a long time now. How long has it been?”

“Three years, four months and six days,” I say with too much gusto. I let out a nervous laugh.

“But who’s counting, right?”

Todd’s face breaks into an amused grin. “That’s just it about you, you always have a plan. Always keep track of things. I think you’re the most organized person I’ve ever known.”

My smile widens. “Thank you.”

But then Todd’s smile fades. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

Now my face falls. “Sorry, what?”

Todd leans forward and lowers his tone, as though he doesn’t want the other couples to hear him. Judging by the intense look on his face, I’m not sure I want to hear it either.

“You’re suffocating.”

Ironically, it’s me that feels suffocated. I clutch the neckline of my dress and pull it away from my neck as I swallow against a lump.

“I think I’ve just come to the conclusion that I’m not getting any younger, and it’s time I settle down.”

I frown. “So, you are asking me to marry you?”

Todd jumps back. “What? No. I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

I cross my arms as shock makes me grow numb. “Then why did you bring me here?”

“Well, we can’t exactly have this conversation at Wendy’s can we?” he retorts, like the idea of breaking up with me at a fast food place is repugnant. But I’d kill for a Twisted Frosty right now.

I make a mental note to pick one up on the way home while I shake my head. “You’re breaking up with me? Seriously?”

“Yes. And I knew you’d demand a reason why, so I wrote a list.” Todd takes out a folded piece of paper from his jacket and I watch with horror as he opens it up to read.

I glance around me, noticing that a few people had stopped eating and are beginning to stare.

“Number one: I’m not a monk. I am a red blooded male with needs that are not being met.”

My face twists with repulsion. “This is a joke, right?”

Todd does not lift his eyes from the paper.

“Number two: I can’t be with a woman who does not possess even an ounce of spontaneity in her body.”

I gasp. “I can be spontaneous!”

I just need to plan for it first…I add silently.

Todd does not react, but keeps reading.

“Reason three: I need to be with someone fun and isn’t afraid to let her hair down.”

I point to my head of brown waves flowing over my shoulders. “My hair is down. And am I not fun?”

Todd proceeds to talk for a further twenty-eight minutes about every part of my character that he doesn’t like.

I am too nit-picky. Too clean. Too polite. My voice is too soft. I eat too much. My sense of humor is too goofy. The list goes on and on.

Maybe he’s right. I am not spontaneous. Because if I am, I’d smack him with the drinks menu and toss my drink over his face for being so rude.

What kind of man takes someone to the nicest restaurant in the city, only to read out a list that would make War and Peace look like a children’s novel?

But instead of letting off steam and throwing a tantrum, I sit and take it.

When he’s done, I take a final sip of my bubbly and pick up my purse. “Well, thank you for taking the time to write such a detailed list.”

Todd points at me. “And that is exactly why we should break up.”

I frown again. “Why?”

“Because most women show some emotion in your position. I mean, after all these years we’ve been together… and you don’t even shed a tear? What the heck is wrong with you?”

I slide my chair back across the carpeted floor and rise to a dignified stand. “Well, if that’s everything. I expect you’re paying tonight.”

I should have had the lobster.

Todd’s eyes grow dull and he looks at me like I did smack him across the face. As if I’m the one breaking up with him.

But my hands are trembling as I ball them into tight fists and I’ve only got a shred of self-control left to stop me from making a scene.

I turn on my heel and walk out with my head held high.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

I’m not one to make a scene. Especially somewhere as nice as this. But with every step, my heart breaks a little more.

Todd didn’t put a ring on it after all.

And he proceeded to attack every part of my personality.

Well, good riddance to him.

As planned, I go to the drive through at Wendy’s and order the biggest shake they have. Then I sit in the parking lot, and try to cry.

But nothing comes.

Honestly, I’ve never been able to cry since my grandmother died nineteen years ago.

But even if I was a crier. Part of me is glad I can’t shed a tear right now.

Because he’s not worth it.

One thing sticks out, though. Of all of the criticism, the thought that I’m not fun or spontaneous bothers me.

I am totally fun. 

Just because I’m not going to go skydiving any time soon, and the idea of dancing on the tables after drinking too much sends my nerves into a panicked frenzy, doesn’t mean I’m not a fun person to be around.

Right? Right!?

I think about my closest friend, Leila. What would she say about this?

Before I know what I'm doing I've dialed her number and her chirpy voice floods through the car.

“How did it go?”

I grit my teeth. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth this morning and tell her I think Todd’s going to propose?

“Um. Todd and I decided to go our separate ways.” I try to keep my voice level, but my tone is way too formal to come off as convincing.

There’s silence but for heavy breaths as Leila processes the news.

“So, you’re not engaged?” she asks, her words coming out slower than a kid putting their shoes on for school.

I clutch my shake and bite my lip as a pressure spreads across my chest.

Hearing Leila say that makes this feel more real.

“No.” My voice is firm. Too firm. I clear my throat and force my fingers to relax. “No,” I say, softer now. “We just realized we’re too different.”

Leila hums, and it comes out like a rumble all around me. “I’m coming over.”

I hitch a breath with a squeak. “No! I’m not home.”

Leila has these big doe eyes that tear up when she’s disappointed. And I just know she’s going to give me that look, while asking me every sixty seconds if I’m okay. I can’t cope with that right now.

But maybe Todd has a point. Up until now, I’ve planned out my entire life. And now look where it’s taken me? Sat alone in the Wendy’s parking lot, talking to my friend who used to look up to me. She’s the hot mess. Not me. But now, my hot mess friend pities me.

This is a fate worse than death.

“Well, I’ll come over tomorrow. You don’t work on the weekend, right?”

“Haven’t you got that weekend job at the dog walking business?” I shoot back. Leila’s derisive laugh almost makes me smile. I love the sound of her giggly laugh.

“Um. Let’s just say that Doggy Walkies and I came to a mutual agreement to go our separate ways.”

She’s echoing my sentiments.

I know what she means. She got fired. Again.

“Ah. I’m sorry,” I say through a breath. “How about you come over in the morning? I'll make blueberry pancakes.”

“Sounds like a date!” Leila’s voice is delighted and I’m extremely relieved that I can’t sense a hint of pity in her tone now.

“Hey, before you go…” I scratch an invisible itch on my arm. “Am I fun? Tell me the truth.”

Leila lets out a hearty laugh and it almost bursts my eardrums. 

I slide my tongue over my front teeth, nervous that her reaction is because I’m anything but fun.

“Of course you are!” Leila says, still chuckling.

My shoulders relax as Leila keeps talking.

“Remember during Spring break when you decided we should go on a road trip to Yellowstone, and you got chased by that bison?”

I groan. “Actually, you brought up the idea. And the bison chased me because I was shouting at you to stop taking pictures of it on the side of the road and come back to the car!”

I sit up a little more straight. But Leila carries on undeterred. “And the surprise birthday party you arranged for me in college. We broke the campus record for the most students to be in a dorm room.”

I shut my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

That was Leila’s other friend, Hollie. I just helped with the preparations. Cramming twenty sweaty college kids in our room until it stank of BO and cheese was not my idea of fun.

“We always have a blast when we hang out. You are fun, Josie. Don’t even question it.”

But I am questioning it. Todd’s voice has crept into my head and whispers to me in a creepy voice that sounds suspiciously like Gollum.

You’re not fun, Josie. No fun at all.

And Leila’s examples do nothing to change my mind. “Well, thanks girl. See you in the morning.”

After ending the call, I slurp the last of my shake and stare intently at the lights. I need to start being fun and spontaneous if I’m going to get what I want out of life. And what do I want?

I want a good job. A husband to snuggle in the evenings and maybe a couple of kids too.

But I’m not going to get a promotion or a husband if I’m labeled boring.

I promise I’ll start taking more risks and embracing spontaneity. But first… I’m going to the store. A sudden break up calls for a whole lot more ice cream.