Bet on Me (Bet on Love #2)

by Rachel Higginson

  I couldn’t speak at first. I was too afraid to break the silence and shatter this moment. I was too afraid that my voice would jolt me out of this dream, and I would wake up to find that none of this had been real.

  I needed to touch her. I needed her to sooth this wild, feral feeling inside me. I needed to know that what I wanted more than anything was within my reach. I needed to believe that she wanted to try this again, that she was done running.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand. She let me hold it, and I couldn’t help but bring those trembling fingers to my lips and kiss them.

  “I won’t hurt you, though, Britte. I’m not saying that I’m perfect because I’m not. And we might fight. Okay, we probably will fight. We might even have problems that we have to work through. But I’m not going to abuse what’s between us. I’m not going to let you fall for me and then leave you. We’re not your parents. We’re not people that hurt each other without remorse. We’re different. And we have something special. And maybe you haven’t realized that yet, but you will. As long as you’re willing to keep trying with me. As long as you’re willing to keep working at this and not run at the first sign of trouble. Let me be human. And I’ll let you be human. And we’ll be flawed and happy and in love together.”

  Her big green eyes found mine. The look on her face could only be described as pure wonder. “In love?”

  “Oh, did you not know that I love you?” I felt my lips lift in a smile. “I love you, Britte. It was killing me to not have you, to not be with you. I love you, and I want to try at this. I want it to be painful and hard and uncomfortable because I already know it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And we’re just getting started. Imagine what’s to come.”

  She shook her head but didn’t move. Her bright eyes shimmered with tears, and I kissed her palm, needing to keep touching her…kissing her. “I love you, too. I don’t even know when it happened. But it did. I love you, Beckett. I don’t want to run again. I’m willing to test this theory of yours about hard things, but like you said...I’m flawed. I know that. I’m not blind to it, even if I’m great at denial. I messed this up once, and I know I can do it again. But I want this. I want to try too. And I want you, Beckett. I need you.”

  I dipped my head until my forehead pressed against hers and closed my eyes. “Say it again,” I demanded.

  She laughed, then sucked in a steadying breath. “Which part?”

  “Tell me you love me,” my voice was hoarse as I looked at her eyes, her lips. This woman I had fallen for so completely.

  “I love you,” she said softly as she looked right back at me. And I believed her. I felt her words like they were a physical thing. They repaired the hole in my chest and eased the anxiety that had been plaguing my mind. I stopped thinking murderous thoughts about Jameson after finding him seated next to Britte on the couch earlier and started thinking about all the possibilities our future held.

  This girl loved me. I might not deserve it, I might not be worthy of it, but I was going to do my damnedest to earn it for the rest of my life.

  “I love you, too,” I promised her. I had never said more important words.

  She leaned into me, wrapping her hands around my neck and pressing our bodies as close together as possible. “Now show me,” she whispered in the sexiest voice I’d ever heard.

  Her lips pressed against the corner of my eye, just like the first time she kissed me. Then they moved to my temple, across my jaw until they finally found my mouth.

  I kissed her like I was drawing breath for the very first time, like she had become my oxygen and I had been suffocating without her.

  We kissed until we weren’t satisfied with kissing, until we needed more, until we needed our bodies to express the same sentiment our lips had…the same sentiment our hearts beat with.

  And it was goddamn mindblowing.

  I realized that it would always be like this with Britte. That every second I spent with her would be better than the last. That her kisses would mean more every time I touched my mouth to hers. That her body would become a religious experience every time I got to worship her. That I would just keep falling harder, every single day.

  When I woke up in the morning, she was still there, still naked and pressed against me and beautiful. That feeling in my chest, the one that I’d come to realize was love and commitment and hope, settled firmly where it belonged.

  No, this wasn’t going to be easy, but it was going to be good.

  So damn good.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Britte

  “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  He glared at me. “Stop.”

  “I’m serious, Beckett. I’m leaving. This was a stupid idea. And I’m calling quits. See you later.”

  I pushed back from the table and poised to bolt like I was taking off from the starting blocks. I could make out two exit options from where I sat, it was just a matter of picking the fastest route.

  Beckett, the man I loved, the man that had put up with an incredible amount of bullshit from me, the man that had spent time helping me heal and talking with me for hours about all my issues and that loved me back just as hard, grabbed my hand and yanked me back into my seat.

  Because he was a traitor.

  He was a good man, but he was a traitor.

  And God, I loved him.

  “She’s going to think you’re a crazy person,” he warned. “Now, sit down and be still for the love of God.”

  “I can’t,” I grumbled. “I’m all itchy.”

  “Yeah, you get itchy when you’re being a brat. So stop being a brat.”

  It was my turn to glare at him.

  He ignored me, leaned over and took my hand. He held it tightly in his. I was irritated with him, so my first instinct was to pull away, but it only took a second of his touch to change my mind.

  That one simple contact soothed my frayed nerves and whispered to my heart to calm down. He brought rational thought back to my whirlwind mind and reminded me that hard things weren’t always bad things. And that they were sometimes worth fighting for.

  Look at us after all. We’d been together for six months now, and I had never been more in love with him. The thing I had been most afraid of happening, the person I had been most afraid of falling for…had happened. And I was a better person because of it.

  I was a happier person because of him.

  In a month, school would be done for the spring semester, and I would have three short months before my senior year. Then shit got real. Senior year was going to be a nasty biotch, and my responsibilities had never been tougher.

  To top it off, I had finally agreed to meet my mom for coffee. Face-to-face for the first time since I was eight.

  And I wouldn’t have been able to face any of it without Beckett.

  He’d been there when my fall midterms were as bad as I’d feared they’d be. He was there to help me through the rest of the semester and do a hundred times better on my finals. He was there through this brutal second semester and all my neurotic craziness that went along with it.

  And he was there when I’d finally decided to talk to my mom on the phone. He’d sat next to me on the bed and held my hand while I tried to crush his with my death grip.

  But I’d survived.

  And I’d listened to her apology and her sobs of regret and the heartbreak that filled her voice and the gaping void between us.

  He’d gotten me through that difficult phone call, and then he’d held me while I broke down after the call ended.

  And he’d been there for every single call after that.

  Stacey had been calling regularly since November and we’d slowly, very slowly been making progress. There was some hurt that was so deep I knew it would take me a lot longer to work through. But there were other parts of our relationship that I couldn’t ignore.

  I didn’t necessarily trust her yet, but I didn’t hate talking to her. In fact, lately, I
’d even been enjoying our phone calls. Maybe even her.

  The pain of my past would always be with me. That was something I came to terms with pretty early on.

  She couldn’t erase that, no matter how many times she apologized.

  But I could also start to feel my life becoming something different when I didn’t carry that hurt forward. My future felt different without the bitterness holding me back; without the stubborn refusal to move on and forgive.

  Like I said, we had a lot of work left to do.

  But I didn’t hate where we were currently, and could see where we were headed—and I didn’t hate that either.

  “I see your dad,” Beckett murmured.

  I looked up and sure enough, his tall frame was weaving through the coffee house. I knew my mom was right behind him. I could see her dark hair and bits and pieces of her behind my dad’s large frame.

  Too soon they were at our table. I stood up instinctively, still not sure if I was getting ready to run or not.

  My dad had met Beckett bunches of times by now, and they had developed a friendship that had shocked even me. I expected my dad to hate Beckett on principle— I was his baby girl after all. Instead, they’d bonded over cars, the Brewers and Cops. Blew my mind.

  My dad shook Beckett’s hand before he even remembered to greet me!

  Men.

  Stacey stepped to the side of my dad and looked as nervous as I felt. My gaze swung toward her with panicked confusion. But when I saw the same look mirrored in her eyes, I relaxed some.

  She didn’t try to hug me. She didn’t try to shake my hand. She just stood meekly next to my dad and waved awkwardly.

  I waved awkwardly back.

  She was shorter than I remembered, but her hair was as wild as mine and her green eyes were like looking into a reflection. She had lightened her hair with blonde streaks that matched her funky clothes, and her heavy makeup reminded me why I had always steered away from black eyeliner.

  There were things about her that hadn’t changed.

  And there were things about her that were completely unrecognizable.

  “Hi, Britte,” she whispered through a voice choked with emotion.

  “Hi, Stacey,” I said confidently. “Did you order? I can grab you something.”

  “I’ll get it,” my dad instantly offered. “Beckett and I will get it.”

  Beckett turned to face me, still holding my hand. “I can stay if you want,” he told me.

  I squeezed his hand and let his touch sooth me one last time. “Thank you,” I whispered. “But I’ll be okay for a minute.”

  He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to my cheek. Whispering in my ear, he said, “I’ll be right over there. But you’ve got this, Britte. You’re so brave.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and blinked away the sudden tears that threatened to fall. I didn’t feel brave. I felt weak and scared and unsure.

  But I also believed him. He wouldn’t lie to me.

  So I turned to Stacey, and I waved at her chair. “Have a seat.”

  She did, and so did I. We were silent for a little bit longer before she asked, “Is that your boyfriend?”

  I nodded, “Yeah. That’s Beckett.”

  “Your dad’s told me about him,” she smiled. “Sounds like a really good kid.”

  I nodded, that damn emotion filling my eyes once again as I looked over at Beckett and my dad ordering coffee. “He is. He’s amazing.”

  I turned back to find her looking at me and her expression changed. Suddenly my breaths were short and painful, and I couldn’t stand the look on her face. It was too serious…too knowing. I waited for her to tell me he was going to break my heart or that he was too good for me or that I didn’t deserve him or that he was going to ruin my life or something equally ominous.

  Instead, she leaned forward and put her shaking hands in her lap beneath the table where I couldn’t see them. “Then hold onto him,” she ordered gravely. “Don’t let him go. Do whatever it takes to hold onto him. They don’t make too many men like him anymore. Trust me. I lost your father, and I know that was my fault. I know I did that. But I have regretted it every single day since.”

  I was speechless. Truly devoid of speech. I couldn’t think of words or remember how to use them or how to grab them from where they came from.

  And my emotions were just as difficult to grasp. Anger again. Bitterness because she’d felt that way and still didn’t come back. Confusion. Pity. Sadness. And empathy…finally empathy.

  She sat back just a little. “Of course, not as much as I regretted losing you. But I promise you I have never found a man like your father. Not one that even came close. Don’t let him go, Britte. If he’s good, do what it takes to keep him.”

  I tore my gaze from her and looked back at Beckett, who was still at the counter with my dad. They were laughing, but he was also shooting nervous glances at me.

  What Stacey had pitched sounded more like manipulation and desperation than anything else. It made me feel icky and pathetic. I got what she meant, but I didn’t like how she meant it.

  But at the same time, I knew I wouldn’t have to do that with Beckett. I was immediately filled with confidence that he wouldn’t make me beg to keep him, or I wouldn’t feel forced to manipulate him from leaving.

  What we had was real. What we had was beautiful.

  And both of us were willing to work as hard as we needed to keep it that way.

  “I plan on keeping him,” I told her. “And he plans to keep me too.”

  Her smile was filled with regret and sadness. It made her look tired instead of happy. Lonely instead of content.

  It made me sad for her. It made me realize that I had hated her for so long for taking away what I believed was my entire childhood. I blamed her for my hurt and pain and for missing as a mom.

  But now I could see that even though I’d gone through those things, I’d still had a wonderful life. I still got my dad and the life he gave me. I still had happy memories and an incredible present. And now I had a man that loved me. The best man I knew on the entire planet loved me.

  And she had nothing but a lifetime of regret.

  She didn’t get someone to make her life better. She didn’t get someone that fought for her and happiness.

  She left her family and only had herself and her bad choices to live with.

  For the first time ever, I felt sorry for her.

  “Do you like coffee?” I asked her in an effort to grab hold of some small talk.

  She made a face and laughed, “Like the oxygen I breathe.”

  “Oh, my gosh, I’m the same!”

  We fell into easy conversation after that. It was no longer awkward, but a feeling of acceptance between the two of us. When Beckett and I left with the promise to do supper with her next time, I could honestly say, I didn’t hate it.

  And I didn’t hate her anymore.

  I didn’t love her or trust her or want to call her mom again.

  But I didn’t hate her, and that meant something to me.

  Beckett wrapped his arm around me as we walked toward his car and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “How are you doing? Are you okay after all of that?”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed him in. “I’m actually very okay. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

  He stopped next to the passenger side door and nudged me against it. Leaning against me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he leaned down and said, “I’m proud of you, Britte. You gave your mom the greatest gift today. I think she’ll be eternally grateful for that.”

  “And what is that?”

  He dipped his head so our lips were only a few inches apart. “You,” he whispered. “You gave her you.”

  I looked up at him, at this man that meant so much to me, that made my life so full and happy and complete, and I knew my mother was right about this one thing. I needed him. I wanted him. Forever.

  “I love you, Beckett.
”

  He kissed me slowly, deeply, promising wicked things for later and reminding me of the depth of his feelings for me. “I love you too, Britte.” He pulled back and jerked his head toward the car. “Now for the important stuff.”

  Thinking he meant the sexy stuff, I waggled my eyebrows and asked, “And what’s that?”

  “Ice cream,” he declared. “We need ice cream.”

  I laughed as he opened the door for me, a habit I had grown used to. He was right about that. Not that ice cream was the important stuff, but that he was.

  And that we were important.

  And all the possibilities we had ahead of us.

  Beckett Harris was the hardest obstacle I had ever faced. And the best. Sometimes my heart hurt and demanded I fall back into my old ways, afraid of commitment and desperate to run. But he was always there to remind me why I stayed…why I went through the uncomfortable process of trying with him… trying for us, and why I could never run from us.

  Not when things were this good.

  Not when we were everything good and beautiful and us.

  Thank you so much for enjoying Beckett and Britte’s love story! I hope you fell in love as hard as they did.

  The Bet on Love series will continue with two more standalone books in the series! Look for Bet on Love coming early 2017!

  Please keep reading for a sneak peek at Rachel’s adult contemporary romance, The Five Stages of Falling in Love.

  Acknowledgments

  This book was a labor of love for me. Never has my life interfered so much with a project. So I would like to say thank you to all the people that helped me finish. My God, because it feels very much like a modern day miracle that this book is finished. My husband for his endless support and ceaseless love and hard work. My mom for her hours and hours of babysitting. My friends for their constant encouragement. My kids for putting up with the messy house and lack of clean underwear. And for everyone that had to deal with my flighty, forgetful, overwhelmed behavior. This book has confirmed that I know the very best people on the planet. And I am so grateful for each and every one of you.