by Chloe Cox
Lena stared at him.
“Or into the trash bin, whatever you do with digital files. But gone. Destroyed. No more. You never, ever have to worry about it, ever again,” he said, and his earnestness killed her. He wasn’t asking for anything. He just wanted her to know it was done.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Every single thing Chance did made her feel loved and broke her heart all at the same time. How could she ever live up to this? How could anyone?
“Chance,” she said.
“I’m not done,” he said. “Don’t get all doom and despair on me until you hear me out.”
Lena laughed. “I am a little like droopy dog at the moment. Stop making me laugh, it’s not fair.”
“I have never, ever played fair,” he said, grinning. “Ok, now, for real, listen to me. Just be quiet. Here it comes.”
He didn’t have to tilt her head up this time to meet his eyes. She did it on her own. It was the least she could do, to meet this beautiful, loving, ridiculous man on his own terms.
“Ok,” she said.
“I have an idea about what’s holding you back, Lena. Let me roll with it. I believe in you, and I’m not wrong. You should believe in yourself, that good things can happen to you. I want to make that happen, I will work my ass off to make that happen, but I know why you’re resistant.”
“I—”
“What did I say?” he said, cocking his head.
She shut up.
“But don’t pretend this makes sense, Lena, this is just about you being scared. You almost lost Thea, and that reminded you how much you suck at needing people.”
Lena opened her mouth to object, but hesitated. She couldn’t even argue the point anymore. He was one hundred percent correct. She was actually waiting for Thea’s chorus of agreement, and was kind of relieved to realize she probably couldn’t hear it.
“Did you conspire with Thea?” she asked him.
“What? No. Why?”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he growled, and hooked his finger into the waist of her jeans, pulling her in close. “I know you love me, Lena, and I know why you don’t trust that. Why you don’t trust the world to work out, or people to be there for you. I think you will trust me to be there, eventually. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you can believe in me, in time. But right now, you need to know that I need you.”
Those last three words hit Lena like a glass of ice water: I need you. In all her pining, in all her tortured thinking, her rationalizations, her internal debates about what to do about Chance, she had never once considered the possibility that he needed her. She’d accepted that he loved her, she’d accepted that she loved him, even that she needed him, but the stumbling block was, once she got over that, how she would inevitably mess it up. How her profound inability to trust in anyone or anything except maybe after years and years would test any man to the limit, how he would get tired of her, tired of dealing with it, tired of all of it, and it would eventually destroy both of their lives.
She didn’t know what to do with that. He needed her?
“Lena, look at me,” Chance said. “I told you about all that shit in my past, all the times I’ve been violent, all the times I’ve been scared of what I was. Look at this.”
He held up his phone again. There was a picture of Richie Kerns. Lena jumped, and Chance swiped to the next picture: Paul Cigna. Both of them were smiling.
“What? Why would you show me that?” she asked.
“Look again,” he said. “Anything you notice? Like how both men are in perfect health?”
It wasn’t something you’d notice unless someone pointed it out, but yes, both of them appeared to be in perfect health, if smiling a little strangely. Almost…strained.
“I didn’t touch them, even when provoked,” Chance said. “And Cigna tried to provoke me when I went over there the last time, believe me, because he wanted the lawsuit. He actually came after me. But because of you…it’s because you make me better. Because you make it possible for me to be a better man.”
Lena was stunned. She had no inkling, no understanding.
“Chance, I don’t—”
“Not done, sweetheart,” he said, putting one finger on her lips. “You don’t fix me, I’m not saying that. But you make me want to be better, and you make it easier. I don’t know if that’s good, but I do know I don’t give a shit anymore if it’s not. It just is, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it. I love you now, I’ll love you for fucking ever. You’ve made me a better man, whether you like it or not, and I fucking need you. Don’t take that away from me because you’re afraid to need me, too.”
Lena had no words. She was overcome. She was felled. She was utterly, utterly decimated by this man. By the idea that the strongest man she’d ever known, the one who’d stood up for her, who’d stood by her, who’d put so much work into helping her, just because she’d asked—that he might need her.
“Chance, I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“Say you’ll give this a shot. A real shot. I believe in you more than anything else on this planet. I know you’re brilliant, and kind, even when you try to be a smart ass, and you’re right for me, and you’re the best woman I know, and if you can’t believe that yet, I will for the both of us, until you can catch up.”
Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “This is the one and only time I’m ever going to beg you for anything, sweetheart,” he said. “But you better believe you’re gonna pay for it later.”
Lena tucked her head into the hollow of his neck to hide her smile and her tears, and then on impulse kissed him there. When she pulled back to look into those eyes once more, they were shining.
“Yes,” she said.
From behind her came a familiar voice. “Hallelujah!” Thea said.
epilogue
Lena took a big lungful of ocean air and tried not to be worried for Thea. This was, after all, a joyous kind of thing, right? An alternative wedding, of sorts? No, definitely a happy occasion.
But Lena was still Lena, and her adopted family was about to go on a month long sailing trip down the coast with her new, “technical” husband, as Thea put it. So she was worried.
John had insisted that they get legally married, after Thea got out of the hospital, and he’d made too many rational arguments, all of which Lena happened to agree with—it was important for John to be able to get into the hospital, for example, and it would help Thea to be on his crazy amazing insurance. Also, if she were being honest, Lena was totally happy to turn the tables and gang up on Thea about her man. They had made it a marriage of their own style, though—Thea valued her independence too much, and so did John. She kept her house, he kept his houseboat. This trip was going to be interesting.
Which was how most of Volare L.A. was gathered at Marina del Ray to see the beaming, glowing, ridiculously happy couple off. It served as a kind of ad hoc wedding celebration, reception, and general excuse to make Thea uncomfortable. Lena did love that.
And she also loved how quickly Volare had embraced Thea. She was vaguely concerned, for a while, that she’d have to keep these parts of her life separate, but the second she’d confessed that concern to Adra, Thea had been brought into the fold. Not the fold that consisted of subs being to tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross on Friday nights kind of fold—thankfully, for Lena—but the fold that included barbecues and private concerts and, apparently, going away parties at Marina del Ray.
And of course, there was Chance. Always Chance. The life of the party wherever he went, the guy who made sure everyone was ok, her Chance. It still made Lena smile to think that he was hers. Hers. Right now she was watching him hold court at the other end of the covered outdoor area adjacent to the boathouse, apparently trying to learn how to do a fire-eating trick, with Thea clapping along happily.
Actually, on second thought, maybe she wouldn’t watch that. If she looked over again in a second and he was st
ill putting fire anywhere near that beautiful face, she’d have something to say about it. It would just be a bonus if she got disciplined for it later.
“Hey you,” Adra said, showing up by Lena’s side with a glass of sparkling wine. Adra was another invaluable addition to Lena’s life—she’d proved to be a true friend, taking Lena’s script and going to freaking battle for it. She’d actually managed to sell it, and when Adra made the announcement, you could have knocked Lena over with a feather. Which was just as well, because Chance had picked her up and refused to put her down for the rest of the night.
“Hey!” Lena smiled. “Have you seen Lola? I got her some Ghirardelli chocolates, assuming she’s still into chocolate, and not, like…”
“Pickles? Mayo on onions? Some other unholy combination?” Adra laughed. “Yeah, she’s over there, behind Chance and his crowd, but good luck getting anywhere near her without a security pass. Roman is ridiculous.”
Roman’s overprotectiveness had been the highlight of the couple’s visit. Thea had invited them personally, after she’d found out how much Lola had helped out with Lena’s…difficulties…accepting Chance, and Lola was definitely showing, and Roman had the curious look of a man determined to protect his woman at all costs who was also completely and utterly dazed. Lena would think he was all lost in thought, this dreamy look on his face while he wondered about his unborn child, and then Lola would so much as wince at some back pain and the man would jump into action.
It had almost gotten to the point where it was fun to mess with him. Almost. Chance had an eagle eye, and Lena wasn’t going to cross from funishment into punishment—too often, at least.
“Hey, who’s that?” Lena asked.
She had spotted a woman wearing what looked like a very restrictive, business-y sort of blouse, a staid, conservative skirt, and terribly uncomfortable shoes, all of which kind of made her stand out among the Volare L.A. crowd. She also had a notebook, something that set off alarm bells for Lena. She still wasn’t a fan of the press, though she was working on it.
But this particularly woman, who really was very attractive under all that fuss, was being given a hard time by what looked like college kids attached to another boat down the dock. Lena frowned.
“And what the hell are they doing to her?”
Adra followed her gaze and muttered, “Damn. That’s the writer I hired for Declan.”
“The what now?”
Adra smiled. Her and Ford had been busily trying to help Declan Donovan rehabilitate his image after what was collectively referred to as the “Philadelphia Incident.” The press coverage had been awful, and it had only cemented Declan’s reputation as a sex god womanizing boozehound. He’d gone through rehab and come out sober, but lost some of his bandmates as a result—the man was definitely in transition. And there was clearly something bigger underlying his fling with self destruction.
But he’d been one of the nicest guys Lena had encountered, ever, totally down to earth, and apparently oblivious to the effect he had on most women. Volare seemed like a good place for him, but a writer?
“We commissioned her to write a biography,” Adra said, eyes narrowing as the college kids grew more bold. In fact, they looked kind of drunk. “Or memoir, whatever. Something to get Declan’s story out there. Her writing is superb, but I didn’t think she’d be so…”
“Fusty?”
“Formal, maybe? I mean, it’s important that she and Declan get along.”
Lena and Adra watched as the woman deftly handled the drunken idiots on her way to their group. Still, there was a limit to what any single woman could do in that situation.
“We better go help her,” Lena said.
Both women girded themselves to go deal with some drunk boys intent on harassing any female within shouting distance, knowing Ford and Chance would probably be at their sides in about two seconds flat—especially Ford, who Adra claimed she wasn’t at all interested in, to everyone’s amusement—when Declan crossed their paths, making a beeline for the writer in question.
“Oh, boy,” Adra said under her breath. “I can’t tell if this is really good, or really bad.”
“It’s definitely really something,” Lena agreed.
Declan had descended on the drunk regatta-styled fratboys like a nightmare. Really, any of the Volare members would have done the same, but no one else would have brought quite the same tattooed, hugely muscled rock god badassness to the venture. The looks on the drunk boys’ faces were absolutely priceless—they didn’t know whether to apologize or ask for an autograph.
Instead they just scattered.
And yet, the look the writer gave Declan was…pissed off? Flustered? And yet totally checking Declan out?
“Whaaaat is going on there,” Adra whispered.
Lena smiled. It was sort of nice to see something like this from her perspective, having finally yielded to Chance, and finding out that it made her happier than she’d ever been. “I take it they have to spend some time together?” she asked Adra.
“Yup.”
“So this is going to be fun?”
“That, or a disaster. One of the two.”
“Like most things,” Lena smiled.
Suddenly she felt two strong arms sliding around her waist from behind, and Chance’s broad chest at her back. Lena’s face erupted into huge smile, like it always did, and she relaxed into him.
“What are you two ladies planning?” he asked. Warm gravel again. Lena bit her lip.
“Global takeover,” Lena said.
“We’ve decided to become super villains,” Adra added.
Lena felt Chance nuzzle her hair. She was having all sorts of responses that weren’t remotely appropriate for a public marina.
“Adra, I think Ford might need your help with whatever’s going on over there,” Chance said.
Adra looked at Chance, looked at Ford talking to Declan and the writer, then looked at Lena. It was apparent that Ford didn’t need any help at all. Adra just smiled.
“Oh, of course,” she said, winking at Lena. “I’ll talk to you later?”
“Always,” Lena said. She turned in Chance’s arms to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Why’d you scare Adra off?” she said. But she was already getting heated, just touching him. Sometimes she wondered if this attraction would ever wear off, but somehow she knew it wouldn’t—it wasn’t normal, what they had, and she loved it.
And those eyes.
“Did you say goodbye to Thea?” he asked.
“I did not say goodbye,” Lena said. “I said see you soon.”
“Good. I have something to show you.”
Lena bounced on her toes. “Did you find a house?”
Thea had insisted that Lena keep her apartment, and Lena had been grateful for the gesture, something that helped her with her initial anxieties. But she hadn’t spent one night there. And Chance, meanwhile, had been looking for a house he deemed worthy.
Chance grinned, and his hands slipped down to her hips, his fingers resting lightly on her butt in a way that he knew drove her wild.
“I did. A few weeks ago. But now it’s ready,” he said. “One room in particular is ready.”
Lena’s heart fluttered. “One room?”
“There’s a bench that needs breaking in,” Chance said. “Immediately. Get your ass in the car.”
Lena inhaled, wondering once again at how lucky she was. Then she jumped up, kissed her man, fuzzed his head, and said, “Thank you, sir.”
THE END
Thank you! I hope you enjoyed Chance and Lena’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) If you want to know about my next book (Declan’s story!) as soon as it’s available, you can sign up for my New Releases List here. And read on to find out how you can get a free advanced review copy of Declan’s book by joining my review team!
Also? If you liked this book, go ahead and lend it to a friend. There’s no DRM for just that reason, so g’head, go nuts. :)
It’s one of the best ways to find new books.
And, if you have a moment, please help others enjoy this book too by leaving a review and letting them know what you liked about Taken by Chance. I think it helps other readers choose which books are right for them, and I learn something with every review, too. If you do leave a review, shoot me an email with a link to the review at [email protected] and I’ll send you an advanced review copy of Declan’s book. I send out those ARCs to my review team in exchange for an honest review, hopefully about a week or so before the book comes out. (Though sometimes I get my butt kicked by deadlines!)
And oh yeah, like I said, Declan’s story is next! I’ve always had a thing for rockstars, since basically forever. No joke, I had a denim jacket with all my favorite bands’ names written on it in permanent marker in, like, third grade. My mother was horrified, but it only got worse from there. So…this one will be fun. :) If you want the very latest, don’t forget to sign up for the new releases list here, or check me out on facebook below.
And for real, if you’re on Facebook or Goodreads, come say hi! I’d love to hear from you. :)
‘Til the next book,
Chloe
