Chance

by Deborah Bladon

  ***

  "I'll have to let you go one day."

  I don't want those to be the first words I hear when I wake in his arms. I want those words to be part of a nightmare that I've just had and when I actually open my eyes, Caleb will tell me that he can't bear the thought of not being with me.

  "Quiet," I say as I tap him on his chest. "Just don't."

  "Rowan." He shifts us both until I'm on my back again.

  I know that if I open my eyes he'll be hovering above me. I'll have to look up into his beautiful face and listen to him tell me that we can't make this work. I don't want to hear that right now. I've just had the most incredible experience of my entire life. I've felt pleasure that I didn't even know existed and now the man that I shared that with is eager to tell me why it's only a temporary thing.

  "Open your eyes." I feel his fingers brush against my lips. "Open them."

  I reluctantly look up into his face. We'd both fallen asleep after we came. I'd listened to the sounds of his breathing for more than an hour before I rested my head against his chest and fell into a deep sleep. It feels as though only minutes have passed since he was inside of me but I suspect it is hours later by now.

  He pushes a breath out between his lips. "That was more perfect than I ever imagined it would be."

  I smile softly as I reach up to cup his cheek in my hand. "It was incredible, Caleb."

  "Asher told me you were here." He leans down to brush his lips across my brow. "He told me you were alone and I had to come."

  "You saw him?" I ask with a sense of relief. "I was scared that he wouldn't make it back. I was worried that he'd take off again."

  "He made it back. He came back because of you."

  As much as I'd love to take credit for Asher's return to New York, I can't. "He went back because it was time."

  "It doesn't matter why he's back." His voice is low and stoic. "He's back and I'll get the chance I wanted to show him what he means to me."

  I close my eyes, wanting the world to melt away and hoping that the tender and compassionate side of Caleb that I'm seeing now is here to stay.

  Chapter 38

  I moan from the strong taste of his flesh. I look up into his face but he's lost in his pleasure. He's standing against the window, his hands wrapped tightly in my hair.

  He'd gotten up to look out the window when he thought I was still asleep. I'd silently crawled out of bed behind him and slid my hands around his waist, cupping his heavy balls in one hand while I stroked his root with the other. He'd moaned when I dropped to my knees and begged him to turn around.

  Now, I'm naked, aroused and craving the taste of his release.

  "Fuck, yes." He pushes the words out in the middle of a deep growl. "Take it deeper."

  I push myself forward, sliding more of the thick vein between my lips. I stroke it quickly with both hands, marveling at how much it pulses beneath my touch.

  One of his hands moves to the back of my head as the other finds the windowsill. "I have to fuck your mouth. I have to."

  I feel my sex ache with the lust that is woven into his words. I nod slowly while I look up into his face. I want to tell him to do it, but I can't stop myself. I crave the taste of his cock.

  He starts pumping his hips slowly, moaning loudly with each thrust.

  I pull away from him so I can lick the entire length up and down. I do it slowly, methodically and when I reach the base, I circle my tongue around it. I want to tease him and pull him as close to the edge of his orgasm as I can.

  "Fuck, Bell." His words contain every bit as much desire as his body does. He pulls my hair, until my mouth is back at the wide, spongy crown. "Take it all."

  I part my lips a touch but his impatience takes control and in one quick and lust filled movement he's pushing my head down, forcing his cock down my throat. My eyes water with the sheer girth of it but I don't stop. I grab hold of it again and pump it until I finally feel his body tense before the first burst of hot, thick release hits the back of my throat.

  ***

  "I want to know about the chef."

  I look over to where he's standing by the foot of the bed. He's fully dressed now. I'd showered after he came in my mouth and on my face. He'd wanted to taste me again but I needed a chance to breathe. I'd felt overwhelmed by the depth of our intimacy and the shower gave me the brief reprieve that I needed.

  "What chef?" I brush past him to pull a pair of panties from the drawer I'd put them in when I unpacked. I choose a black lace pair and pull them on while he stares at me.

  "I heard you talking to Clive about a guy one day when I came to your office. You said he was gorgeous and that he's a chef." His eyes slide over my bare breasts before they settle on my face. "Is he the guy you were going to have dinner with? Did that happen?"

  The conversation feels foreign to me given the fact that we'd just spent the day sharing ourselves with each other. "Why are you talking about this now?"

  He rubs his hand over his chin. "We should talk about what we expect from each other when we get back to New York."

  No. We shouldn't talk about that because I don't want to hear him tell me that he's going to fuck other women when I can still taste his desire on my lips.

  "Now?" I spit back as I pull a black t-shirt over my head. "Why now?"

  His feet shuffle over the floor as he scrubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Things are different now. Everything is different between us now."

  "I'm not seeing anyone. I don't have any plans to see anyone."

  "What about the chef?"

  "I've never met him. I don't know anything about him," I half-lie. I had done a quick Google search of his name when Ivy first told me about him. He's handsome, in an unkempt, dark haired, tattooed and sexy as all hell kind of way. He's making big waves in the culinary world and he's dating up a storm.

  From the images I saw online of him coming out of virtually every hot club in New York the past few months, a quick fuck is all that's on his menu. It would definitely be a fun experience but the emotional fall out from that isn't something I have time for. Tyler Monroe may have been someone I'd want to hook up with a few months ago, but my feelings are so jumbled around Caleb now, that I can't see past that.

  "Caleb." I rest both of my hands against his chest. "I'm not going to go on a date with him. I'm not planning on dating anyone after what happened between us."

  "I don’t… I'm not sure…Bell...,” he stammers as his eyes search my face. "I'm not sure we should only… I didn't think about us just seeing each other."

  I close my eyes willing him to shut his goddamn mouth. "Stop. Just don't say it."

  "I think we should talk about it now. It's important."

  "Are you going to see other women when we get back to New York?"

  "I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do."

  I won't cry. I'm not going to let him break me apart. "Do you regret what we did?"

  "No." He grabs hold of my biceps, shaking me slightly. "I wanted that. I still want that. I want that and I want you to be my friend."

  "I don't understand," I say because there's nothing else. "We can be lovers and friends. You know that we can be both, right?"

  "I can't stand the thought of us hurting each other. I don't want that to happen and if we keep fucking each other we will. It will kill me inside if I break your heart." His hands drop to his sides before he turns and walks out of the room.

  It's all I need to hear. My life changing long weekend in the Hamptons just came to a screeching, painful halt.

  Chapter 39

  I told you so.

  It's one of those things that you never want to hear anyone saying to you. It's degrading and emotionally debilitating. It's also a blunt reminder of how foolish you are. Once I walk through the door of my apartment, I expect Graham to be standing there with a bright neon sign with the words, "I told you so," written across it in big, bold letters.

  I swallow my pride as I push open the do
or. He's right there, pulling me into a tight embrace before I even have time to explain the cryptic text I sent him an hour ago telling him that I'd been with Caleb but I was coming home early to hide in my bed.

  "You look like hell, Rowan." He takes hold of my purse and my suitcase. "You should sit down. I can make you something to eat."

  "No." I shake my head. "I'm not hungry."

  "Do you want to take a bath?" He leads me to a chair in the living room. "I'll go get it ready for you."

  He'll do it without question. I know that he will. I also know that he'll sit next to the tub and listen while I weep about how wonderful it felt to be wanted by Caleb only to turn around and hear him tell me that he wants to keep his options open. Graham will ask what lesson I've learned from the weekend and the only thing I can honestly offer is that I can't take showers when I'm around Caleb. I go in thinking he desires me more than any woman he's ever met and I come out to find him second guessing everything we share.

  "I don't want to take a bath." I pat the arm of the chair. "Sit here with me."

  I lower myself into the chair as he takes a seat next to me. I look up into his kind face. I had thought about having the driver take me to Ivy's apartment but trying to explain all of this to her right now feels overwhelming. I know that Graham doesn't expect anything from me other than what I can give. Right now, I'm not sure that's much more than silence.

  "I don't have any friends who I knew when I was a kid." He taps my shoulder. "I grew out of those friendships when I got older. We didn’t have anything in common anymore."

  "You don't think you could want someone you grew up with?"

  "None of the boys I played with when I was a kid would be open to playing with me in the way I want now," he says with a wink. "I'm not convinced that being friends first is the way to go."

  I would have argued that point with him yesterday afternoon but after I'd gotten dressed and told Caleb I wanted to go back to New York, I might have agreed with Graham's philosophy on the subject. Caleb hadn't argued with me. He didn't try to explain anything. He simply called for a car, and sent me on my way, telling me that he'd hang back to close up the house.

  "I think he has issues," I say before I realize how open ended that sounds. "I mean I feel as though he's in a constant battle with himself over me, or maybe it's over us. He just seems so passionate and loving one minute and then it all shifts."

  "Has Caleb ever been in love?"

  I hate to admit it, especially now given the fact that Vena was close to becoming his wife. She was a model who he met at a photo shoot for the woman's clothing line. He'd fallen for her so fast that soon after his brothers and I met her, there was a beautiful canary diamond on her finger. He secured the most sought after wedding planner in the city, chose the venue and planned a life with her. It was her choice to end the relationship. Maybe that's where it all stems from. Maybe he's still head over heels crazy in love with her.

  "Once." I hold up my left hand and wiggle my ring finger in the air. "They were engaged. She broke it off before the wedding."

  "Ah."

  I wait in silence for something more and there's absolutely nothing. "That's it? Do you think the hot and cold bullshit he pulls on me has to do with her? You must have an opinion"

  "You know I do." He skims his hand over my hair. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

  I'm not sure but I know I have to hear it. I've replayed what happened in the bedroom of the Hamptons house over and over again since I left there. None of it makes sense to me. "I need to hear it."

  "Caleb loves you as much, if not more, than he loved the woman he was engaged to." He cups his hand under my chin. "He's so scared that you're going to break his heart that he's determined to break yours first."

  I shake my head slightly, noting the resistance in his touch. "I don't think that's it. If Caleb loved me he'd tell me. He wouldn’t push me away."

  "The fact that he's pushing you away is his way of telling you he loves you, Rowan. He's scared and he doesn't know how to trust in his own heart."

  Chapter 40

  "Are you planning on going to that party the Fosters are having?"

  I came into work a day earlier than I had originally planned. It's Tuesday morning and the first words out of Clive's mouth are about the Foster family. I may just need to pack up my life and move to California to escape those men.

  "No," I say without asking any details about what the hell he's talking about. The very last thing I want to do right now is party with the Fosters. I'd rather do my taxes, or Clive's taxes or anyone's taxes.

  "No?" he repeats back. "You're not planning on sending Jordan in your place, are you?"

  My eyes dart up to his face. I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. The Jordan joke is past its prime but Clive is notorious for beating a joke to death with the hope that he can get one final laugh out of it. "If the Foster brothers are having a party, I don't want to be there."

  "You need to be there," he says succinctly. "It's a charity event, Rowan. I'm presenting the Foundation with a gift from Corteck and since Lilly's best friend is Ben Foster we need to have a strong presence at the event."

  Dr. Ben Foster is one of the few Fosters I've yet to meet. He's Caleb, Asher and Gabriel's cousin. He's also co-founder of the Foster Foundation with his twin brother Noah, the famed photographer. I met Noah four years ago when I went to a private showing of one of his gallery openings. The walls had been covered with breathtaking photographs of nude women. I was in awe of his talent and mesmerized by his passion to create art. We'd had a long conversation about chasing after your dreams and even though my dreams didn't line up with his, he was encouraging and attentive.

  "There's no reason for me to be there," I point out. "I admire everything the Foundation does, but it has nothing to do with me."

  It's true. The Foster Foundation is an organization that provides medical care to anyone who can't afford it. The main focus has always been on providing for those who have no roof over their heads. Ben Foster has set up clinics around the city for anyone who wants care but can't afford it. Their philosophy is simple. They don't ask questions. They are there to help. I've gifted their non-profit with a check for the past two years on my birthday as a way to celebrate my own good health.

  "Corteck is partnering with the Foundation." He lowers himself into one of the chairs in front of my desk. "We're donating a software program that the city's homeless shelters can use to streamline the medical care of the people who stay at those facilities."

  Again, I don't see the direct connection to me. "That's great, Clive. You know I'm on board for anything philanthropic that the company does, but I'm sure someone else can take my place."

  "I'm not asking you to be there as an employee, Rowan." He crosses his legs as he leans forward in the chair. "I'm asking you as a friend. This is a big deal to Lilly and I."

  I need to widen my circle of friends beyond people with the surname Foster, but until I manage that, I do the right thing. "Tell me when and where, and I'll be there."

  ***

  "I didn't know if you'd stop by." Asher swings the door of his apartment open.

  I scan his face noting how much different he looks now that he's shaved the beard and had his haircut. He looks exactly as he did before he ran away on his selfish adventure. I'm still reeling from the realization that he was so close and yet couldn't find it within himself to send any one of us a text saying he was alive and fine.

  "I'm glad you called," I say honestly. I was grateful to see his number pop up on my phone this morning as I was walking through the lobby of the Corteck building to my office. I've been back from the Hamptons for three days now and even though I've been tempted to call Caleb, I haven't done it.

  "How long can you stay?"

  Considering it's the middle of the day and I've fallen behind on my work, I'm given myself just an hour to hear Asher out. "I should be back at the office by three."

  He nods. "I've been doing
a lot of thinking since I got back. I've thought about my brothers and you too, Bell."

  I don't look at him as I take a seat on a white leather chair that faces the bank of windows that overlook midtown Manhattan. Asher's apartment may not be as openly extravagant as either of his brother's places, but it's still located in one of the most sought after buildings in the city. The view alone is worth the steep price of a bachelor apartment on this block.

  "I let all of you down." He pulls on the legs of his black pants before he takes a seat in the chair next to me. "I let myself down too."

  I turn my head towards him. "You did let us down."

  "I know." He gazes over the city's skyline. "I should have stayed and talked to Caleb or Gabriel. I could have talked to you."

  I rub my hand over the front of my neck, my fingers catching on the thin silver necklace I'm wearing. "Your brothers wanted to help you."

  His jaw tightens. "I felt overwhelmed by everything. I needed an escape and I thought about shooting up."

  "You didn't, did you?" I ask quietly.

  "No. I'll never do that again." He reaches to pull my hand into his. "I lost something that day I was arrested, Bell. Something that meant everything to me and instead of dealing with it, I ran. I hid. I handled it wrong."

  I stare at him, startled by the admission. "What did you lose that day?"

  "My son." His hand falls from mine. "I lost my son that morning."

  Chapter 41

  Neither of us says a word as we stare out the window at the rain pelting against the glass. The entire mood of the city changes when a storm approaches. It shifts from a vibrant, beautiful place to a dark, disjointed rush of bodies all moving quickly to find shelter. I love the rain. I've always found comfort in the fact that it washes away everything in its path. I need that now. Asher does too.