Falling for Fate (Second Chance Book 2) Read online

  “No, of course not,” she mumbled when the waitress was gone. “But I want to wait. Call me old-fashioned or whatever. It’s what I want.” She raised her steady gaze to meet his. “Are we going to keep having this conversation or can we eat dinner in peace?”

  “You’re not even religious but you act like you’ll go to Hell for fucking your fiancé.” Trevor let his fork drop loudly on the plate, which startled her even more than his harsh words. “What’s really the deal here, Fate? Are you scared? Or is there something else? Someone else?”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. Someone else? Was he insane? She’d only ever kissed one other guy and that was in high school.

  “Trevor—”

  “Can we get our check please?” Trevor asked their waiter, who was walking past their table.

  “Of course, sir. Would you care for more wine? Dessert?”

  “No, thank you. We’re abstaining this evening,” Trevor answered for them. “Just the check.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fate glared across the table. “Why do you do this? It’s been nearly four years, Trevor. You know how I feel. You know there’s no one else. You bring this up every now and then as if you think I’ll suddenly change my mind. Then when I don’t, I’m the bad guy and you’re angry.”

  “I thought after I proposed it would put an end to the childishness. Just tell me why,” Trevor practically growled at her. “Why is it such a big damn deal? It’s just sex, Fate. What’s the point in holding out on me? You think I’m going to fuck you and run? Are you afraid you’ll be bad at it and I won’t marry you? Or do you just like to toy with me?”

  Afraid she’d be bad at it? Well, she was now.

  “God, Trevor.” Fate tossed her napkin onto the table. “That. That right there. That’s why I want to wait.”

  His face contorted in confusion.

  “I don’t want it to be just sex, Trevor. I want it to matter, to be special. I want it to be a part of my wedding day, the part where we really truly belong to each other in a way no one can take away, okay? Maybe that sounds stupid to you. But I can assure you, I would never hold out on you for fun or toy with you. I just want it to…”

  His eyebrows dipped inward. “Want it to what?”

  “To matter,” she whispered. “You’ve been with other women. I know that. But I want our first time together to matter. I want to remember it every time we celebrate our wedding anniversary.”

  “Fate—”

  “Forget it. Just take me home please.”

  Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the check, allowing Fate to escape to the car while Trevor took care of it.

  “Babe, let me in. Please.”

  Trevor knocked at the door for the fourth time. Fate sat on the floor with her back against it.

  “Answer the door, Fate. Whatever he’s done, he’s sorry. For goodness’ sakes.” Her mother frowned. “You’re engaged to him, sweetheart. Time to be a big girl.”

  Fate sighed and let her head rest against the door to the small apartment she shared with her mother. Her mother’s answer was always to forgive. She’d been cheated on, lied to, berated, and humiliated by men in every way possible. She was all smiles and laughter when she was dating someone new. Then, when it didn’t work out, she locked herself in her room, wallowing in Willie Nelson and cheap whiskey.

  Fate had been swearing to herself since she was eleven and her second stepdad walked out on them that she would never be like her mother. When she got married, it would be forever, but until then, no man would hold that kind of power over her.

  The hardwood floor didn’t feel so great, but neither did the idea of forgiving Trevor right at the moment. The car ride home from the restaurant had been bad enough. They’d ridden the few blocks in silence, Trevor gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and clenching his jaw in frustration while Fate huffed out angry breaths and did her best not to let angry tears fall.

  “I was an asshole. I know that. Please open the door, Fate. I really don’t want to have this conversation in your hallway.”

  Her mother gave her a pointed look. Fate stood. She hadn’t meant to be so melodramatic, but when he hadn’t apologized on the way home, her hurt feelings had grown teeth.

  Pulling open the door, she stared intently at the man in the doorway. His shoulders were slumped and his normally bright eyes were dim.

  “We can’t keep having this argument, Trevor. Is this what marriage is going to be? The same fights over and over?” God, she hoped not.

  Trevor’s lips lifted into a wry grin before he answered. “No, baby. Because when we’re married, I’ll be fucking you regularly. Thus, I’ll be in a much better mood.”

  Fate’s cheeks flushed and she glanced back to see if her mother was still in the entryway to the living room. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

  “Trevor,” she whispered. “For goodness’ sakes. My mom is home.”

  He stepped closer and snaked an arm around her waist. “I’ve been extremely patient with you, but I don’t know if I can make it three more months. All I can promise is to try my best.”

  “Thank you. I know it’s hard for you—”

  “No, Fate. It’s hard for you. I’m always hard for you. And you know it. You know what you do to me.”

  In case she had any doubts, Trevor took her left hand and ran it down the front of his slacks. She cringed at the hardness between his legs.

  “I know. I’m sorry, Trevor. I promise, once we’re married, no more waiting. As soon as we say ‘I do,’ I’m yours. Forever.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, saying it out loud made her feel dizzy and disoriented. And slightly…nauseated. Maybe he was right—maybe she was afraid of sex.

  Trevor placed a moist kiss on her mouth. “Just wait, babe. Once I show you how good it can be, you’ll be begging for it.”

  She forced a smile. One thing was for sure. No one would ever accuse her fiancé of being modest.

  Three Months Later

  “Fate, did you pack your Manolos? I see everything in this bag except your shoes. Please tell me you didn’t forget them.” Melissa’s voice echoed through the tiled hallway of the bridal suite.

  “Um, hang on.” Fate checked the smaller of the two pieces of hand-me-down luggage Melissa had loaned her for the trip to the Hamptons.

  She dug into the suitcase, but only one black stiletto seemed to be inside. The pair of shoes her friend had insisted she splurge on for her rehearsal dinner must have somehow been packed separately.

  “Found one,” Melissa called out.

  “Oh! So did I!” Fate took her right shoe into the bathroom, which was larger than her apartment had been at home.

  The Atlantica was a luxurious resort on the beach where Trevor’s mother had insisted they have the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception. The actual ceremony would take place tomorrow at sunset beside the shoreline.

  Melissa placed the shoe on the floor and Fate stepped into the finally united pair. She straightened her dress in the mirror before catching a glimpse of her friend’s concerned expression.

  “What? Do they not go with this dress? Because even if they don’t, for what they cost, I’ll have to wear them every day even if I’m just walking to the mailbox.”

  Melissa features loosened a bit and she took a deep breath. “No, they’re great. I was just wondering how you’re holding up.”

  The muscles in Fate’s stomach tightened. How was she holding up? She’d been wondering herself.

  The past three months had been a series of trials and triumphs. She’d graduated from the University of Texas with a double major right around the time her mother had brought home boyfriend number five. They’d been planning to attend Fate’s wedding and make a romantic getaway of the trip. Unfortunately, Hernandez hadn’t been as interested in her mother as he had been in cleaning out her bank account. Fate was pretty sure the handsome handyman her mother had met when he’d come over to fix their leaking showerhea
d was now sunning on a beach somewhere with someone a bit closer to his own age.

  And thus had begun the worst downward spiral Fate had ever seen. There’d been wine because there was always wine, but this time, it had turned to whiskey long before the Willie records played on an endless loop from the antique player in the living room. Then, in a spectacularly shitastic stroke of bad luck, Brenda Buchanan had been rear-ended on the interstate on her way home from work. She’d had severe whiplash and neck strain, and an emergency room doctor who hadn’t known any better had carelessly written her a prescription for extremely habit-forming narcotics.

  Fate had found her mother unconscious and barely breathing on the couch that evening. The bottle of painkillers had been as empty as the liquor cabinet.

  Three days her mother had remained in the hospital while Fate sat by her side, ignoring Trevor and Melissa’s attempts at distracting her from her mother’s condition with wedding talk.

  “We can’t live like this anymore. I know that,” had been her mother’s very first raspy words in the hospital. “I’ll get help.”

  Despite all of Trevor’s shortcomings, and Fate knew there were a few—just as she herself had a few—he was the one who found The Second Chance Ranch. Fate had spoken with a social worker about a few state-funded rehabilitation programs, but the only place that still had one was in a shady section of town, and it was more of a methadone clinic than what her mother actually needed.

  “It’s expensive,” Fate had told him when he’d shown her the website featuring a sprawling ranch on hundreds of secluded acres in Dallas. “Probably more than her insurance will pay and more than I can afford.”

  “We’re about to be married, Fate,” he’d said as if several thousand dollars a month was of little to no consequence. “That makes us family. I’ll take care of it.”

  Staring at her own reflection in the mirror with Melissa looking worriedly over her shoulder, Fate realized that Trevor was about to be a lot more than just her husband. He was about to be her everything. Her mother was in rehab—rehab that he was funding. Just as he’d paid the down payment on their penthouse apartment in Manhattan, and it would be his family’s holiday celebrations she’d be attending from now on. Everything felt like his, as if he owned the universe and was just allowing her to rent a small space inside it.

  Without her mom there with her, Fate felt like she was crashing her own wedding.

  “I’m holding up just fine,” she said to her best friend, not entirely sure it was the honest truth. “Just wish my mom could be here.”

  “Where are the rest of the candles? There are supposed to be candles on every table.” Olivia Harris was beyond pissed. “Not every other table. Every table. What’s so hard to understand?”

  Fate flinched on behalf of the poor waitress being publicly reprimanded by her soon-to-be mother-in-law. She prayed she was never on the receiving end of such blatant scorn.

  “Yes, ma’am. I used all of the candles that were set out for the event. I apologize for the misunderstanding. I’ll take care of that right away.” The girl didn’t look to be more than nineteen or so. Poor thing was clearly terrified and looked to be in serious danger of crying.

  The Atlantica was nice, a gorgeous resort right on the beach, and likely the kind of place where a young lady might lose her job for making such a silly error at a high-profile wedding.

  “I’ll help you look for more,” Fate whispered to her as she accompanied her into the back of the restaurant. “It’s really okay. It’s not even all the way dark yet. She’s just really particular.”

  “Thanks,” the girl with the long, blond braid whispered back. “Are you a bridesmaid?”

  “Um, I’m in the wedding party,” Fate said with a tentative smile. She wasn’t typically one to be dishonest, but she knew the girl might have a stroke if she realized it was the bride she was recruiting for assistance.

  After they’d both checked several closets, Fate saw a door that was ajar above a set of stairs.

  “Could they be down there?”

  The girl nodded. “Yeah, actually, they could. There’s an extra supply closet down there beside the wine cellar. But, um…”

  “Are we not allowed down there without permission?”

  Her partner in crime blushed and stammered over her words. “We are. It’s just… I think the bride and groom couldn’t wait for the honeymoon. I saw them sneaking down there about fifteen minutes ago.”

  That couldn’t be right. She was the bride. Surely some other members of the wedding party had sneaked off for a last-minute quickie before dinner. But the best man was Trevor’s dad and he was still married to Trevor’s mom. And his cousin Jeffery was the only other groomsman and he was gay. His husband, Craig, was here with him. It didn’t make sense.

  “Probably just a couple of guests checking out the wine cellar. I’ll go check the closet.”

  Fate descended the stairs as quickly as she could in her stilettos. Logic said that the girl was just confused or had seen some tipsy guests and mistaken them for members of the wedding party. But a strange, sickening urgency propelled her down the stairs and toward the wine cellar.

  She was just turning the corner when she heard them. The hushed moans and a light cry in a cadence that sounded an awful lot like Melissa’s voice.

  It was damp in the basement. Fate rubbed her arms, which were left bare by her halter dress. She stepped closer. The door to the wine cellar was ajar. She knew it was none of her business, but she couldn’t help but wonder who Melissa was shagging at her rehearsal dinner. Her composed friend, the one who’d helped her plan this wedding down to every last minute detail, was skipping out to have a good time. But with whom? Fate couldn’t think of a single eligible bachelor in attendance that would be Mel’s type. Most of Trevor’s relatives were uptight and twice her age.

  “Yeah, baby. You like that?”

  The voice was familiar. So familiar that it weakened her knees before she could take another step.

  “Yes, Trevor. God, yes. Just like that.”

  The floor seemed to slip away beneath her. Because her subconscious self was obviously a masochist, Fate took one more step.

  Her heart dropped, sinking like a cement block into her stomach the moment she saw them. Melissa was backed against a wall of wine, her shimmery, nude, silk, mini cocktail dress hitched up around her waist. Trevor’s pants were just past his knees and his bare ass was wedged between Melissa’s legs.

  Trevor thrust into her once more and groaned loudly. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna—”

  “Oh God, Fate.” The pleasure on Melissa’s face melted into a mask of horror.

  Trevor froze mid-thrust. “What?”

  A strangled noise escaped her throat. It was too late to run. Melissa had already seen her, and Trevor was turning around.

  No. No, this isn’t happening. I’m dreaming.

  Fate felt as if her body were separating from her soul the same way it had when she’d come home and thought her mother was dead on the couch. It tugged her upward until she was racing up the stairs even though every body part she was conscious of was tingling with pinpricks of numbness.

  Melissa wouldn’t have done this. Not the same Melissa who’d let Fate cry on her shoulder after particularly hideous fights with Trevor over the years. Melissa had always been there for her through her mother’s worst bouts of depression and especially through her suicide attempt. She’d been right by her side during every step of planning this wedding. Fate couldn’t reconcile the kindhearted, supportive best friend she’d known since her freshman year of high school with the woman she’d just seen.

  “I found the candles,” someone said in a triumphant female voice, but the owner of said voice had a blurry face.

  Fate kept moving. Once she was outside on the patio, she took a lifesaving breath.

  “There you are. We were looking for you,” Trevor’s mom said, blocking her exit onto the beach. “Fate? Are you all right?”

  Fat
e’s eyes stung with barely contained tears and she longed like a child for her own mother. God, how she wished she could just be a kid again and dive into the safety of her mother’s arms. Her mom might have failed at all of her relationships and business ventures and struggled to hold down a job, but she was great at hugs.

  “I’m not feeling well,” was all Fate could choke out. Shock, she thought. I’m going into to shock.

  Trevor’s mother stepped closer. “Are you ill? Uncle JR is a cardiologist. Want me to call him over?”

  “No,” Fate breathed. She just wanted to get the hell away from here, from all of these people and their prying eyes. “I need to take a walk. Now.” She angled around the statuesque blonde without any further explanation.

  She wanted to call and apologize to her mom. Say that she was sorry for getting engaged to someone like Trevor, someone who’d mocked her Bundt cake. And for being bitter that her mother was too sick with addiction to attend this sham of a wedding. She was sorry for judging her life’s decisions. For everything. But she had no idea where her phone was, and any more talking and she’d be a hysterical mess. Her heart slamming wildly in her chest, pounding far too hard for her to keep still, so she just kept moving.

  “Goddammit, Fate. Wait a fucking minute.” Trevor’s voice rang out from behind her.

  She whirled around instinctively and saw Melissa coming up behind him. Where Trevor was exuding pure outrage, Melissa at least had the decency to look contrite. Her eyes remained on the ground.

  Painfully aware that they had an audience, Fate glanced around. A few people were staring openly at the unfolding commotion while the ocean had suddenly become very interesting to others.

  “Wait for what, Trevor? You to finish screwing my maid of honor so we can give the wedding toast?”

  The words exploded out of her mouth without permission.

  Strangely, she didn’t regret them. Might as well get it all out there. It didn’t take a genius to know that one plus one equaled two people she cared about fucking each other and fucking her over in the process.