Chance Encounter (Fates Aligned Book 1)

by Christi Whitson

  “Maybe we can find some cute, airy sundresses for the summer months,” Miranda suggested, her eyes already glazed over at the shopping possibilities.

  My eyes were glazing over too as I happily contemplated the easy access those summer dresses would allow. I was a little surprised that the mental image of a heavily pregnant Kennedy was no less appealing to me than the way she looked now. She was starting to show just a little, but only those who knew her well could tell the difference. I was still a bit nervous about how the pregnancy might affect our intimate moments, but I was content to cross that bridge when we reached it.

  Once everyone had eaten their fill, Dad declared that he would be taking care of the dishes and asked me to help bring everything into the kitchen. Here we go… It didn’t take a psychic to interpret his intentions, and I rose to clear the table without complaint. Gabe offered to help, but Dad waved him back to his seat.

  “Go ahead and say it,” I prompted, once Dad and I were alone in the kitchen.

  “Say what?” he asked innocently, trying to hide his smile.

  “You know what.”

  I watched him load a couple plates into the dishwasher and waited patiently. I didn’t have to wait long.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “As sure as I can be. As sure as anyone could be in this situation.”

  “I suppose no one can expect more than that, but son… You need to be careful. Kennedy’s a good girl, and she’s in a vulnerable place right now. She’s doing an amazing thing for your sister. For our whole family. Breaking her heart would be a poor way to repay her. She’s not another one of your girls you can just drop when you get bored. She’s important. If you’re going to pursue her, you’d better make damn sure you’re all in. There’s no halfway with this one.”

  “I know, Dad,” I assured him, only a little taken aback at the intensity of his tone. I hadn’t realized my parents knew Kennedy as well as they apparently did, but I wasn’t surprised that Dad was protective of her. Kennedy inspired that sort of thing in people. “I’m not screwing around.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I appreciate you looking out for her, but the lecture isn’t necessary. And you’re right… Kennedy’s not like anyone else I’ve ever known. She’s… special.”

  “She is. Your mother and I have always been fond of her, but she’s part of the family for good now. No matter what happens between the two of you.”

  “I know,” I smiled. “And we both know the situation is complicated. That’s why we’ve agreed to take things slowly. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, but already, it’s…”

  I wasn’t sure how to put it into words. Our budding, slow-moving relationship was already the most intense one I’d had since college. And we hadn’t even had sex yet. Dad seemed to understand what I wasn’t saying, and he looked at me appraisingly for a long moment before nodding in acceptance. I knew the discussion was over. We finished the dishes in silence and found that everyone else had moved to the living room, where Mom was regaling them with a funny story about a tenant who had found a snake in one of their vacation rental homes.

  It was another hour before everyone decided to call it a night, and both of my parents hugged Kennedy goodbye with the same affection they showed me and Miranda. Kennedy’s eyes were full of emotion as she returned the gesture and settled into the passenger seat of my car.

  “You okay?” I asked softly. She nodded and blinked rapidly.

  “Oh, I’m fine.”

  “Hormones?” I guessed, praying she wouldn’t find the question offensive.

  “Partly. It’s just… Your parents are really great. Especially Laurelle. Her acceptance means a lot, especially since my mom reacted so badly when she found out about the baby. She hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “Seriously? That was a few weeks ago.” What kind of mother leaves her daughter to deal with her first pregnancy alone?

  “Yeah. My dad and my brother have called to check in a few times, but not my mom. I don’t know what to do about it. Or if I should even do anything at all. I’m so sick of her bullshit. It’s always something with her.”

  “So, she does this a lot?”

  “The silent treatment? Oh, yeah,” she scoffed. “That’s pretty much her reaction anytime someone does something she doesn’t approve of.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Could be anything, really. When I was a kid, it was stupid little things like what I ate and how I dressed. How I cut my hair. The friends I chose. She didn’t want me to major in English, so she refused to help with college unless I stayed local.”

  “Wow. And your dad went along with that?”

  “Not really. I’m sure if I’d tried harder to fight her on it, he would’ve helped me even without her approval, but he has to live with her, you know? And he was protective enough to want me to stay close. I ended up giving in mostly so he wouldn’t be caught in the middle, like he always is.”

  I digested that and shook my head in disapproval. I couldn’t imagine having a family dynamic like that. Always having to walk on eggshells to avoid turning a dinner table into a battle ground? No thanks. I was well aware of how lucky I was to have supportive, easy-going parents, but listening to Kennedy talk about her mother really drove that point home.

  “When she gets like this, I’m always the first one to break and try to reconcile things, but…” she trailed off, frowning out the window into the darkness. “This situation is different. It’s not about her. I don’t understand how she can be a mother and not comprehend that the baby comes first before anyone else’s feelings. Even if the baby isn’t mine.

  “Every time I pick up the phone to call her, I stop myself. I don’t have the energy to play her games right now, and I feel like standing firm is the right thing to do. She needs to grow up. And as bad as it probably sounds, I’m enjoying the break from her,” she admitted, smiling a little.

  “It doesn’t sound bad at all,” I assured her. “Obviously, I support whatever you decide to do, but from everything you told me, I think letting her come to you is a good idea.”

  “That could take a while.”

  “Yes… But it’s her loss.”

  “I’ll probably have given birth by the time she gets over her attitude. But I’m tired of Mom acting like this. I’m tired of giving in to her tantrums.”

  “I’d feel the same way. I’m sure you’ll know the right thing to say when the time comes.”

  Kennedy sighed and leaned her head back against the seat, squeezing my hand that was still entwined with hers.

  “I’m sorry for bringing down the mood. I feel like I wasted time with you by spending it talking about my mother.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. You never need to worry about that sort of thing with me. Either she’ll come around or she won’t, but I’m not one to skip out when things get tough. That’s not who I am.”

  Kennedy smiled as I pulled the car into the empty space next to her vehicle and turned to face her. I gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment before leaning forward to kiss her. Her prior stress seemed to melt almost the instant our lips met, and she moaned softly in appreciation. My tongue grazed the seam of her mouth, teasing and caressing even as I begged for entry. She parted her lips to let me in, and my head spun at the taste of her.

  I had no idea how long we sat there, making out like a pair of teenagers in a parked car, but when we finally came up for air, the windows had fogged slightly and the radio DJ had burned through at least four songs. I was breathing heavily as I rested my forehead against hers.

  “I’d walk you to the door, but I’m not sure I’d have the willpower to leave,” I admitted, mirroring the smile on her face.

  “And I’m not sure I’d be able to let you go.”

  It’ll be a miracle if we last another week, I thought as I watched her unlock her door and wave goodbye. The chemistry between us was inescapable. I had enough wisdom to know that our ag
reement to move slowly had been the right move, but I also knew we could only fight the inevitable for so long.

  Sooner or later, we would break, and there would be no going back.

  Ten

  Kennedy

  Mid-March

  Week Seventeen

  What the hell was I thinking? I wondered for the umpteenth time as I flustered about my kitchen. A hastily compiled playlist of relaxing songs was shuffling over the wireless sound system, but the music did little to improve my nerves. For reasons that now escaped me, I’d offered to cook dinner for Donovan on the only night he had off that week. I’d wanted to do something nice for him, not to mention change up our routine a little bit since he was always cooking for me. Now, however, I was seriously questioning my own logic.

  While my meal of roasted potatoes, asparagus, and London broil smelled heavenly to me, I knew my cooking skills were nowhere near Donovan’s level. I mentally compared this meal to the ones he’d cooked for me so far, and I couldn’t help but feel woefully inept. Hopefully, it would taste as good as it smelled, even if it didn’t look anything like the artistic masterpieces Donovan had presented.

  I peeked into the oven to check the progress of the steaks, and the rich, savory aroma of roasting meat saturated my apartment a little more. A growling noise from inside my stomach was accompanied by a slight flutter from much lower in my abdomen, and I patted the spot with a smile. It was getting a little easier to determine which sensations were caused by gas bubbles and which were truly fetal movements. They couldn’t be detected from the outside yet, but I felt a tiny thrill with every flutter.

  A knock at the door sent my heart racing, and I shook my head in bemusement at my own reaction. It wasn’t that the sound had startled me, since I’d been expecting company. It was the knowledge of who was on the other side of that door. I didn’t bother trying to contain the smile I could feel curving my lips upward, nor the contented sigh that escaped them when I opened the door to see my visitor.

  Boyfriend, I corrected inwardly. The word seemed too juvenile and inefficient in my opinion, but the English language was sorely lacking for better alternatives.

  “Hey, baby,” Donovan said, gracing me with one of his sexy smiles as I let him in and shut the door behind him. He held up a small bag. “Normally, I’d have brought wine, but watching me drink it alone wouldn’t have been very fun for you. So, I brought dessert instead.”

  “Perfect.”

  I watched as he placed the bag on the foyer table and turned to wrap his arms around me. His lips found mine with remarkable ease, and we were lost in one another almost instantly. We’d spent time together only two days before, but it felt like much longer.

  I’d gradually begun to adapt my work and sleep schedules to Donovan’s so we could have more time together. At a minimum, we texted and talked on the phone each day and spent a few hours together several times a week. I was surprised at how easily we’d found ways to fit into each other’s lives, particularly in his case. Apparently, one of his reasons for avoiding serious relationships in the past had been his busy work schedule, but I now suspected that had been little more than an excuse he’d fed his mother and sister to get them off his back about his dating habits. He didn’t seem to have any trouble making time for me.

  “Dinner smells amazing,” he murmured against my lips. “I could smell it from outside.”

  “It’s nothing fancy,” I warned him, and he laughed.

  “Babe, just because I cook the way I do doesn’t mean I expect other people to do the same. Don’t worry so much.” He kissed me again, erasing my anxiety effortlessly, but the beeping of the oven timer interrupted us.

  He stowed our dessert in the refrigerator before we sat down to eat at the kitchen table. I relaxed even more as I watched him dig into the food, his moans of appreciation making my insides flutter in a very different way. How did he manage to make everything sexy?

  Before I’d met Donovan in the cafe that day, I could honestly say I’d never once used the word ‘beautiful’ to describe a man. At least not in real life. Fictional men were another story, no pun intended, but I’d never actually seen one. While the heroes of my favorite novels were often described as such, I’d always chalked those descriptors up to sensationalism and cliché. Now, I knew better.

  He’d dressed casually again, this time in jeans and a solid black t-shirt that fit him so well it should have been illegal. The dark fabric clung to his broad chest and hugged his biceps, stretching slightly each time his arm flexed to bring his fork to his lips. I watched him, transfixed and oblivious to whatever sexy tune had just begun to play on the stereo. My mouth was dry, but my panties were wet.

  Jesus. I was constantly amazed at my body’s response to him, certain that it couldn’t possibly be just the hormones. For fuck’s sake, I’m practically sitting in a puddle.

  “How’s my niece or nephew today?” he asked, startling me out of my ogling.

  “Good. You know, in a few weeks, they should be able to tell the sex.”

  “I know. Miranda won’t shut up about the ‘gender reveal’ party. I told her not to make any concrete plans until after the scan. This kid’s got her DNA, after all. It’ll probably refuse to show the goods just to spite her.”

  “I told her pretty much the same thing,” I giggled. Giggled. Lord, help me. “But it’s hard to rain on her parade when she gets like that. Especially since she’s already missing out on such a big part of the process.”

  “True. She’s doing well with that, though. Or at least she seems to be.”

  “Yeah. Better than a lot of women would, I think. A lot of the feedback on my blog comes from women who have either used surrogates or been one in the past, and most of them talk about the emotional aspect being the hardest part of the process. On both sides.”

  “I can imagine. Sort of. Are you doing okay?”

  I could see the genuine concern and interest in his eyes, and my heart melted. Most men wouldn’t dream of opening a conversation like that in a situation like this. Feelings, especially those amplified by hormones, could be dangerous territory, but Donovan didn’t look at all intimidated by it. Then again, most men would’ve heard the word ‘surrogate’ and run away screaming, I mused.

  “I’m doing great so far. I’m sure it will get harder toward the end, but overall, I think I just feel really… at peace.”

  “Even with all of the changes and your mom and…?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. And I meant it. “I’ve decided not to worry about my mom until she decides to work through her crap, and everything else is going really well. It feels weird to say I enjoy being pregnant, but I think I really do. Well… Once I stopped feeling sick,” I chuckled. “Mostly, I’m just so happy to be able to do this for Miranda. It feels like the best decision I ever made.”

  Donovan smiled and reached across the table to hold my hand. We’d finished eating, so he stood and led me to the sofa in the living room, settling my legs across his lap in what had become our favorite position to relax. The man gave amazing foot rubs.

  “It feels just as strange for me to say this, but I’m really glad you made that decision too,” he said quietly, allowing his hands to explore the soft skin of my bare feet. I’d chosen a knee length red dress that seemed to flatter my changing figure. It also revealed my legs, and I was pleased to catch him staring at them as though he wanted to memorize every inch.

  “No buyer’s remorse, then?” I teased. He chuckled a little as his hands moved up my calves.

  “Absolutely none. When you think about it, the surrogacy is part of what brought us together. If you hadn’t done this, Miranda wouldn’t have had a party to announce it. I wouldn’t have found my coffee shop girl again, and I’d probably still be harassing the owner of that fake phone number… Thinking your name was Emma and that you just weren’t into me.”

  “That’s the worst lie of them all,” I whispered, our heated gazes locked on one another.

  “Yeah?”r />
  I nodded and sat up to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. My fingers wove through his soft hair, clenching tiny portions of it as his tongue plundered my mouth. Donovan’s hands slid upward over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake and causing my heart to stutter. Before I could second-guess myself, I straddled his hips and pressed my heat against the bulge in his jeans. He groaned in surrender when I lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it blindly away from us.

  “Holy fuck,” I breathed, gazing down at his bare chest with open longing.

  “Touch me.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was a request, a plea, or a demand, but it didn’t matter. I was all too happy to oblige. I remembered the first time I’d seen him and the way I’d thought he looked like liquid sex poured into his navy blue suit. I’d been right on the money. The man was impossibly beautiful, and as I smoothed my hands over his chest and biceps, I felt almost unworthy of the privilege.

  I ground against him again, and he groaned against the side of my neck. The neckline of my dress was low enough that he could slip the garment over my shoulders. His lips followed the fabric as it revealed more of my skin, and I didn’t stop him when he pulled it down over my breasts. He gasped and hardened perceptibly beneath me.

  “Do you want me to stop?” His words sounded forced, and his brown eyes were dark as molasses.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  I waited breathlessly to feel his hands exploring more of my body, but to my surprise, they went immediately to my ass, holding me snugly against him as he stood from the couch and carried me to the bedroom. The bedside lamp provided just enough light to reflect in his eyes like tiny flames, and I framed his face with my hands, caressing his cheeks and beard before kissing him again. We sank onto the bed together, our mouths playing while our hands roamed.

  My fingers went to the waistband of his jeans, and he practically whimpered in relief when I slid them off along with his boxers, freeing his erection. Oh, yes. I was staring at his cock the same way I’d begun to stare at chocolate lately, and I practically licked my lips in anticipation. My dress and undergarments quickly joined his pants on the floor, and he leaned back to admire my body, running his hands over every curve from my neck to my thighs. My belly protruded just a bit, a firm little bump between our bodies, and Donovan couldn’t seem to keep the smile from his face as he touched me there.