Fate Interrupted 3
by
Kaitlyn Cross
Fate Interrupted 3
Copyright © 2014 by Kaitlyn Cross
Cover design by Victorine Lieske
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One
A light breeze ran its fingers over Dean’s swept back hair as a foreboding seed sprouted in the pit of his stomach. This was a bad idea. Shaun and Jon could not be trusted. Even after Brooke’s friendly little sit down with Evy – the one about letting go of the past – Dean knew the idea still haunted her. Always would. Just the same, Evy had slapped on a brave face, acting like she was totally fine with it, but behind that black veil Dean knew old ghosts die hard.
Shaun waved to him from the other side of the sun splashed patio where he held down a table with Jon. Dean pushed his shades up and waded through the throng of chattering lunch goers, the conversation level bubbling with anticipation of the weekend at hand.
“What up, big baller!” Shaun set his plastic cup down and extended a fist. “Glad you could make it on this beautiful finally Friday.”
Dean unenthusiastically bumped Shaun’s fist before sliding out of his gray suit coat and sitting down. He exhaled a long breath. “This place is always a madhouse,” he said, loosening his lavender necktie.
“Everyone loves them some Panera,” Shaun replied, sinking his teeth into a Smokehouse Turkey Panini.
“You going inside?” Jon asked, a thick grilled cheese sandwich with bacon spilling over the sides clenched between his greasy fingers.
“I had some donuts at the office.”
“Donuts?” Shaun exclaimed with a short laugh, brushing crumbs from his pink IZOD. “Don’t tell me Dean Jacobs is going soft!”
“Yeah, now that he’s getting married watch he puts on fifty pounds.” Jon bit into his sandwich.
“That’s what happened to me,” Shaun said, rocking his beer gut with one hand. “Now I hate mirrors.”
Dean peered at Jon over the top of his shades. “For your information, I was at the gym at six this morning. What time did you go?”
Jon’s chewing slowed, his face a blank slate. “Does that one hot redhead still work there? Tracy?”
“Stacey. And yes she does, which makes scanning my card fun every time.”
“Hey, you play with a redhead, you get burned,” Shaun said, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin.
Jon furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about it. “Isn’t she the one who let you roll video?”
“No. And stop bringing that up! That shit’s in the vault.”
A young girl with pigtails accidentally kicked Jon’s chair on the way to her mother’s table. He leaned back and ran a greasy hand through his long blond bangs, his eyes surfing the busy patio. “Why do we always come here?”
Shaun followed his gaze, a breeze tickling his sandy brown locks. “There’s nothing wrong with Panera.”
“Yeah, if you’re a soccer mom or a metro-sexual.”
Shaun stopped chewing. “Are you implying I’m a soccer mom?”
“Every time we come here I feel like buying a CUV, strapping a kid in the backseat and rolling out to the mall playground,” Jon grumbled, washing his sandwich down with some pop.
Dean arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Shaun leaned in closer. “This place is a sleeper cell of hotties, and you know what I always say…married not buried.” He jerked his chin behind Dean. “Check out the super hottie at twelve o’clock. Bout to get my boner on.”
Dean and Jon looked in opposite directions.
“Twelve o’clock,” Shaun whispered with a stronger jerk of the chin.
“My twelve or yours?” Jon craned his neck around like a barn owl.
Dean’s brown eyes landed on a pretty brunette sitting three tables away, her face buried in a thick paperback. Her short hair accentuated her toned shoulders and when the butterflies and bright lights failed to show, Dean turned back around with a smile. There was only one woman for him now and he couldn’t be happier. The thought of returning to the life he had lived before, the one with a different woman every other week, made him shudder. It had been fun but always left him feeling alone. That repetitive chapter was over and there was no going back. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” he asked, changing the subject.
“She could be hotter than Evy, Deano.” Shaun drained his Pepsi with a loud gurgle, ignoring Dean’s question while eying the raven-haired beauty. “You could have pulled that at one time.”
“He still could.” Jon took his sunglasses off. “Couldn’t ya, Deano?”
Dean shifted in the iron chair. “I don’t know if you guys have been keeping up on your current events or not, but I’m getting married two weeks from tomorrow.”
Jon laughed. “You think this one will take?”
Dean puckered his brow. “Dick.”
Jon set the shades on the table, studying the pretty twenty-something across the way. “I bet I could hit that.”
A sharp laugh shot from Shaun’s mouth. “Yeah, maybe with your car.”
Jon sighed. “Somewhere out there, some poor guy is sick of her shit, and she knows it. That’s all you have to remember.”
“What up, guys?”
Shaun looked up and smiled. “Benny Boy!” he said, fist-bumping him.
Ben set a round tray of food down and pulled out a black chair, his tight RC Cola t-shirt revealing the tattoos spiraling around his bulging guns. “What’d I miss? Shaun tell his famous squirter story yet?”
Dean laughed. “You’re just in time for some more of his bullshit.”
Shaun held his hands out, mouth gaping. “Why would I lie about something like that? It was disgusting.”
Jon bit into his grilled cheese. “Shaun likes to confuse his glory days with his fantasies.”
“Oh yeah, like my fantasy is to eat some chick out until she squirts in my face!”
Pigtails and her mom looked over, horror dripping from the mom in gooey globs. She reached out and turned her daughter’s attention back to her lunch.
Dean hid behind his hand, face flushing with heat. “I don’t think everyone on the other side of the patio heard you, Shaun.”
Ben took a huge bite of his sandwich and glanced over his shoulder. “I think it would make a great Penthouse Forum letter.”
Jon frowned. “They still do those?”
Shaun rested his elbows on the table, making it rock, and clasped his fingers together. “Look, I’m telling you that stuff really happens. Google it.”
Ben stopped chewing and frowned. “What? Girls peeing in people’s faces?”
“It wasn’t pee!”
Pigtails and her mom turned back to them and Dean wished he had worn a hat to hide beneath. The sun was hot on his face so he scooted more into the umbrella’s shifting shade.
Shaun flashed the mom a sheepish smile before continuing in a softer voice. “It was an orgasm, not urine, and it really happened. That stuff is not an urban legend.”
Ben took a drink of his Mountain Dew. “You mean urban legend like every time a girl nips out it means she’s super horny urban legend?”
Jon shook his head from side to side. “That’s no urban legend, my friend. That is a scientifically proven fact.”
Shaun laughed.
“Speaking of super horny, is Tasha in town yet?” Jon asked, si
nking his teeth into his sandwich and pulling loose a piece of bacon.
Ben checked the bulky watch strangling his wrist. “She’s probably rolling into the shop right about now.”
“Good,” Dean said. “They need the help. Maybe Evy will get the day off for her wedding.”
Shaun crossed his legs like a girl and flicked a crumb from his khakis. “God, I’d like to hit that Tasha one time. I bet that girl would let you do whatever you wanted to her.”
“You’re not fat enough,” Jon said flatly.
Shaun hoisted his spare tire with both hands. “What do you call this?”
“Baby fat.”
“I almost did hit that once,” Ben replied, stuffing the rest of the sandwich half into his mouth. “Thank God I didn’t.”
“Jeez, slow down, Ben,” Shaun said, watching Ben snatch up the other half. “Carrie took the girls to Bradford Beach and I’ve got all afternoon to kill. Now, start from the beginning.”
Ben swallowed. “I gotta get back to the shop. Got an oven on the fritz.”
Dean peered over the top of his shades at him. “And things are never…awkward between you and Tasha?”
Ben shook his head. “We never even kissed.” He stared at the other half of his sandwich through vacant eyes. “I thank God every day I made the right choice that night at Mandy’s Halloween party.” His eyes rose to find everyone staring back at him in silent wonder.
Jon’s eyebrows dipped. “You think Brooke would ever go for a threesome with you and Tasha?”
“Only if I’m lucky.”
Shaun and Dean broke into laughter.
Jon leaned back. “So the thought has crossed your mind?”
“Not really,” Ben replied, wiping his mouth. “I would never do anything to screw things up with Brooke, and that would definitely screw things up.”
“What if Brooke gave you a get-out-of-jail-free card for one night and one night only?” Shaun popped a chip into his mouth and raised his brow.
“She’d be more likely to cut my nuts off.” Ben stopped chewing. “Not my style anyway.”
Jon laughed. “Not your style? You don’t know what you’re missing, dude. This one time in college, I hooked up with my girlfriend and her younger sister who had come to visit for the weekend.” He nodded proudly at them. “Shit got weird.”
“Anyway,” Dean said, pushing his shades up his nose, “thanks for going low key tomorrow night, guys. I really appreciate it.” He laughed a little as a light breeze ruffled his dress shirt. “I never thought the day would come when I would be getting married and buying a house.”
“That makes two of us,” Jon said under his breath.
“This oughta be good,” Shaun snickered. “Can you imagine Dean mowing the yard?”
Ben chuckled. “Now, that would be a sight to see.”
Dean spread his palms. “What’s the big deal about mowing a yard? I’ve mowed a yard before.”
“When?” Jon asked.
“When…I was at summer camp one time.”
Shaun took the lid off his drink and sucked on some ice cubes. “What’d you mow the whole damn camp?”
“No, just around my cabin where I got busted trading Playboys for candy bars.”
Jon swallowed with a gulp. “God, I admire you.”
“Seriously though, Deano, you’re going to love owning your own house,” Shaun said. “You really will.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, grabbing a napkin. “Just think of all the free phone books you’ll get every few months.”
“Why do they still do that when everyone has a smartphone?” Shaun asked, running a hand through his thinning hair. “It’s like, oh thanks for dropping off five pounds of garbage on my front porch.”
Ben grinned at Shaun. “Hey, can you see Dean raking leaves? That’d be hilarious.”
“He’ll probably be wearing Diesel gloves and a matching scarf.”
“What the fuck?” Dean muttered.
Ben tipped his head back and laughed. “Or how about changing the oil on the lawn mower? I’d love to get a picture of that and post it on Snapchat.”
Dean arched an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t worry, Deano, it’ll self-destruct in six seconds.”
“He’ll hire out a lawn service,” Jon added. “Dean doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.”
“I will mow my own yard, thank you very little.” Dean took off his shades and rubbed his temples. “But about tomorrow night…”
“I can’t wait.” Ben took another big bite. “Have you guys fished out there before?”
“Lake Michigan?” Shaun rattled ice cubes around in the cup. “It’s so awesome, Ben. They mount rods all around the boat and when one hits they hand you the line and you just start reeling.”
Ben rubbed the scruff on his cheeks as he chewed. “Sounds like a nice little bachelor party. What will we catch anyway?”
“Probably a cold,” Jon muttered glumly, folding his arms across his vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt.
“King salmon, rainbow trout, Coho, the usual.” Shaun put his straw in his mouth and drained any melted liquid. “Limo will pick us up at six, dinner at seven and then it’s off to McKinley Marina for a boys’ night out.”
Dean shifted in the metal chair that was leaving a waffle imprint in his butt cheeks. “You sure it won’t be too late for fishing?”
“Nighttime is the best time for the big ones,” Shaun said. “Don’t worry, sweet pea, we’ll have you back to the old ball and chain by two at the latest. We’re not going that far out. Plus, Carrie and I have to serve cake and tea at church the next morning.”
Ben washed his sandwich down with his soda. “Since when did you start going to church?”
“Since I lost my Corvette.”
“Oh.”
“That, and I wanted to branch out my beer distribution. You’d be surprised how many bar owners go to church.”
“I still can’t believe you’re getting married,” Jon said dully, shaking his head. “This is a travesty.”
“God, get over it, Jon,” Shaun snapped. “I think you love Dean more than Evy does.”
“Not true. I love Evy more than he does.”
“Actually, Jon, marriage is pretty cool,” Ben said. “It’s like a never-ending slumber party, but with hot sex instead of pillow fights.”
“No, you don’t get it, Ben. This guy is a living legend in this town.” Jon stared pensively at Dean. “This guy used to pull more hot chicks than a sale at TJ Maxx!”
Dean turned to Ben and shook his head, flushing with the comment. “He’s exaggerating. It was more like a sale at Express.”
A wistful sigh slipped through Shaun’s lips. “I do sometimes miss the wingman fringe benefits days. Deano’s crumbs were second to none.”
Jon seized Dean’s arm with a death grip. “It’s not too late to forget this whole thing. We can pick up right where we left off…just you, me, and more tail than a Petco.” Jon paused, wheels still turning. “I’ll drive every night.”
Dean removed Jon’s iron claw one finger at a time. “That Dean is dead, Jon.”
“Don’t you say that!”
Ben jumped with the outburst. His eyes nervously scanned the patio. “Damn, Jon, take it easy.”
Jon spoke through clenched teeth, a tendon bulging in his neck. “That Dean is not dead. There’s gotta be a way to bring him back!”
“Jon, I’m not dying. I’m getting married.”
“Same thing,” Jon mumbled crossly, folding his arms across his chest.
“Besides,” Dean continued, “you have Pam now.”
Jon exhaled a tired breath.
“How’s that going, by the way?” Ben asked.
Jon answered with a limp shrug. “It’s good.”
They waited, expecting him to elaborate further but he didn’t.
“Listen, it doesn’t matter if that Dean is dead or not,” Shaun said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “It’s a nerd’s world out there now, boys. The
y own the night. I mean, have you seen the bands pullin all the hot chicks these days? Fun? Imagine Dragons? Scotty McCreery?”
Jon grunted. “More like Scotty McQueery.”
“Guys like Dean are frowned upon in this day and age.”
Dean creased his brow. “Guys like me?”
Shaun nodded. “You’re still going to the gym and wearing expensive jeans, aren’t you? That shit’s not cool, dude.”
Dean opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Shaun leaned back. “The tables have turned, my friend. Nerd is the new black.”
Dean put his shades back on and turned to Jon. “The point is we can still hang out. There’s plenty of other stuff to do in this town besides hit the clubs.”
“Like what?” Jon threw his hands out. “You want to go to the Discovery World Museum together?”
“That’s actually a pretty awesome place,” Ben said, sipping his drink. “Their aquarium is to die for.”
“Maybe we could go to the botanical gardens together, hold hands and stroll through the roses.”
Dean cocked his head to one side. “Now, you’re taking this a little too far. You know roses make me sneeze.”
“I’m serious, Deano. The only place two grown men can legally go somewhere together without people thinking they’re gay is a bar.”
Dean opened his hands. “What about the safety seat at a movie theater?”
“Last time we did that, some guy sat between us.”
“Have you guys tried the Dahmer walking tour yet? It’s insane!” Ben lowered his voice. “Did you know that Dahmer spray painted the skulls of his victims to make them look fake and then decorated his apartment with them?”
They stared blankly at him without response.
Ben shrugged. “Apparently, the guy had never heard of Pier One.”
“You shouldn’t talk about that monster in this town,” Jon said.
Ben raised his eyebrows. “Ever try saying his name five times in front of a mirror? I got to four last week.”
Shaun clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Anyway, the limo guy has all of our addresses, but, whatever you do, do not forget to bring…”
“Oh my God,” Jon muttered bleakly, his wide eyes staring directly over Dean’s shoulder. His Adam’s apple bobbed one time. “Megan’s here.”
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