A CHANCE AT LOVING YOU
A Novel By,
CHRISTINE GRAY
©2020 Published by After Hours Publications, Inc. www.afterhourspublications.com
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Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 17+
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PROLOGUE
“Drink?”
Her offer to spend time with me doesn’t catch me off guard. The fact that I, along with twenty other guests, just concluded a very lavish dinner in her and her soon to be husband’s honor just mere hours ago doesn’t faze us at all. In fact, she appears to be at ease for the first time in days. I wonder if she put her hair up because she knows I like the shape of her neck, or if the dip of her dress, which has her full bosom on display, is for my benefit and not the fucker she’s agreed to marry?
“I take your stupid stare as a yes,” she grumbles, as she takes the three steps to come to my level.
My body instantly responds to her smell of lavender and vanilla. I know I should break eye contact to ensure my desire for this woman…no girl isn’t seen, but it’s a little too late for games. Too much has been said for us to continue to keep up the act. Elbow on the bar, I continue to watch Dani while she orders a glass of Vodka with lime, before she orders me another bourbon.
“You look breathtaking, by the way,” I say. I lick my lips, tasting the air when what I really want is a taste of her skin.
“Yes, you said so already,” she drawls.
I nod. What the hell is wrong with me? How can such a slip of a girl make me tongue-tied? I refuse to acknowledge the sheen of sweat that’s developed on my forehead since she’s arrived.
“Where’s the bitch?”
“Amy,” I stress. “she is a little bitch, isn’t she,” I sigh.
“I would have thought you would have chosen a little better. Then again, you are one to waste your time on those thots,” she grunts from behind the rim of her glass.
“Speaking of time wasted, your fiancé is…” I trail off, as I try to find the right words to describe the douche bag.
“An opportunist, rude, un-faithful, well connected, rich as Midas, and has a dick as hard as stone,” she pauses to finally pin me with her gaze, “What more can you ask for?” she smirks with a glass raise.
“What about love,” I hiss under my breath, as I lean closer.
“Love,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“Yes, yes, love…the thing you would go on and on about when-“
“I was a child, Austin. You might not consider me as a woman, but trust me, I am,” she promises.
“It takes more than fuckin’ to be an adult, Dani,” I grunt. “You marrying that asshole just to-“
Her twisted laugh sends a chill down my spine. I watch her, as she carefully places the glass down on the polished bar.
“Let me tell you something,” she begins with a flick of her thumb to her nose. “This has everything to do with you. What about love,” she mimics in a deep voice. “What about not wanting to continue to be lonely waiting, hoping that you’ll get your head out of your ass and make a move?”
“You’re being spoiled and dumb,” I growl.
“How the hell you’re going to tell me what I feel, what I want? Matter of a fact, how dare you say any damn thing at all,” she fumes, as she steps to me. “I’m ready to move on from the pipe dream that you’ll ever see me as a woman instead of a girl. Now you want to say something? Fuck you,” she spats.
From head to toes, her cold eyes rake over me. Lord, I want to fuck the attitude out of her. I want to twist her body into a pretzel while doing things that I’m sure are illegal in a few states.
“Listen to yourself. You won’t be happy if you-“
“I’m marrying my best friend. Mitch and I have been together since middle school. There is nothing we don’t know about each other, no surprises, and expectations. If not for love, then I’ll take understanding,” nods Dani, before she scoops up her glass.
I shake my head. “You always wanted life on your terms.” Annoyed, I try again. “I can’t believe Phil would be alright with all of this…and your Mom.”
My spit becomes lodged in my throat due to the crazed expression on her face.
“You think a man that’s been disrespecting my Mom for years has anything to say about my life? Oh, she’s good enough to be your female but not your wife? She’s been with him for over 25 years, helped him build all he has, been a true ride or die, and still no ring or name. No, he knows better than to speak on my decisions.”
I blink rapidly at her words. Every time my lids open, my focus gets sharper and sharper. Never have I seen Dani in this light. Where has the soft-spoken, witty, easy-going girl with the quiet intelligence gone to? There is a roughness, a frankness that wasn’t part of her character.
“What’s happened to you, Dani?”
I narrow my gaze, as I examine her facial features for the tiniest clue. For a moment, all she does is watch her own reflection through the wall of mirrors behind the bar.
“I woke up.”
Her words were spoken upon a whisper, but they still managed to punch me in the gut. No longer hiding behind her anger, in the depths of her brown eyes, I see all the love, desire, and need Dani has held for me since her late teens.
“It took me a while, but I finally woke up to the harsh fact that you are just like my Dad. Birds of the feather and all, huh?”
I frown. “Your parents are in love.”
“And so are you. You’re in love with me. I can feel your eyes on me when I’m in the room. You can’t stand to touch me because doing so drives you crazy. You fuck around, but it’s going to keep you up at night wondering if I’m sucking another man’s dick. Yet, you still won’t move. Yeah, birds of a feather, but you see…I refuse to be my Mother. You can keep my heart, Austin.”
I can change this. I can put a stop to this train wreck.
Save me?
For 15 seconds, I read her last plea for my affection written within her light brown irises.
SAY IT! Tell her you love her. Kiss her! Shit, what are you doing?! Don’t, don’t let her leave. Get the fuck up, run after her, the voice in my mind yells.
I don’t make a move. I stay rooted in my seat at the bar. I don’t know how long I stare at her vacant spot. When I finally right myself in my chair, I get an eye full of my reflection. I normally feel good about myself. Although I’m old, I never felt my full 49 years. I’m in the peak of health. My rigorous schedule of yoga three days a week, swimming 3 miles 3 days a week, light weights 4 days a week, and vegan lifestyle has given me a young man’s figure. My bald head looks damn good on me, however, as I stare at myself, I feel my age.
So, do I save her? Do I sit while daydreaming it’s me Dani is gliding down the aisle to meet? Do I jump to my feet to yell bullshit? Or do I forever hold my peace?
“I’m going to dance.”
With a wave of my hand, I give Amy my blessing to make an even bigger fool of me with every single man at the reception. The location of my table in the back, far right of the large room affords me the luxury to gawk at Da
ni. My anger keeps me company. I refuse to acknowledge that I have no right to be in a silent rage. Yes, logic would tell me that I could have changed the outcome of the day. No, I don’t want to be reasonable, or a man about this shit.
How could she? I rail, as I slam my fist onto the table.
“Whatcha looking at?” I growl at the woman giving me the side-eye. “That’s right, face the wall.”
Dani claimed she could feel my eyes on her in a room. Well, I pray I’m burning a hole in her stubborn head. Fuckin’ foolery is what this is. I mean, look at the punk strutting like a peacock along the raised seating. His too-tight pants barely cover his ankles with a shit-eating grin and face flushed tomato red from too much drinking. This is the man, no, boy she’s picked to marry. And for what? In the hope that I’ll make a damn move?
“I hope the fabric causes his nuts to go numb,” I grumble into my…fuck, how many is this? I wonder, as I twirl the expensive champagne around in the tall flute crystal glass.
I won’t beat myself up. I won’t continue down this slippery slope into depression, knowing that it could’ve been me confessing my love and commitment before these guests and God. It could be me relieving this massive hard-on I’ve carried for years whenever I even hear Dani’s name.
“Everyone, let’s show them some love. Raise your glasses,” the guy who doesn’t have enough respect not to staring at Dani’s chest commands. “Too the luckiest couple in the room.”
“Yeah, fuck’em,” I grunt with a nod.
CHAPTER ONE
DANI
PRESENT
I cut my eyes towards the shut door at the sound of giggling. With a glance, I read the time on my Rolex. He’s cutting it close. Then again, Mitch played by his own rules. I shrug my shoulders. The need for pretending ended the second month into our marriage. I wished then, as I do now, that he would have been smart enough to know better. Showing more discretion could have saved me a lot of drama. However, now my relationship with my parents and brothers is strained to say the least.
Why? Tell us why you wanna stay with this fucker?
I have to admit, at the time, it was a huge middle finger to the universe. Now, it’s the pride of not admitting that I was everything that bastard accused me of being and doing. My only hope is that Mitch will grow tired with this sham of a marriage to allow me to save face and walk away. Yes, it’s a bitch move, and yes, it’s incredibly immature, but age never promises wisdom.
“Morning, Ms.”
I arch an eyebrow at the disdain just beneath the surface of the owner of the cleaning service. Seems everyone has an opinion.
“Morning, Ms. Baker,” I reply with the same energy she’s coming at me with.
“Will your husband be done shortly?”
Stone-faced and unblinking, she poses her question.
“Well,” I start, as I tilt my head to the side in mock thought. “He has no job other than fuckin’ and drinking, so who’s to know. Finish with the rest of the house, and you and the crew can leave,” I order, before leaving the usually professional woman at the foot of the stairs.
Remember watching Tom and Jerry as a kid? Know how the cartoonist pans to Tom’s face for it to slowly morph into a donkey, then cue the Hee-Haw, Hee-Haw? That’s me. I shake my head at the thought. I’ll admit…this has been the hardest one year, three months, two weeks… yes, I’ve been counting. What sounded dumb to others, at the moment of drunkenness, was a perfect fuck you at the time. Mitch is my best friend. So, who else better to heal my brokenness? We already spent every free moment together. He knew all my secrets, and once we began mixing sex into the fun, it had become the perfect relationship. The open marriage thing is all the rave. Adding an extra dick to the party had been fun at first. I just never realized that it may be the shit for others, but now that I’m rowing a boat down that kind of stream, I’m not with it.
Mitch’s appetite for fun has become less enchanting. Before, he and I had our separate lives with ours blending over the weekend and phone calls a few times a day. I never thought seeing his tan, fine ass would turn my stomach as it does now.
“Jesus,” I groan when the airhead giggles drift to reach my ears in the kitchen.
My desire for a nice breakfast while overlooking the pool has gone cold. What started out as a fuck has become this hoe living under my…correction, our roof. Under my breath, I grumble a few curses while I shuffle my food around on the plate.
“OMG, what’s that?”
My head snaps back in horrified shock. I know this bitch didn’t just talk all over my food. With a frown, I glare at my still warm grits, as I debate eating them.
“Grits,” I growl.
“Wow, I’ve never had those. How do they taste? Now, I’ve had cream of wheat. Do they taste like that?”
“Here,” I smirk, as I push the plate across the table.
“Oh, wow…thanks,” she giggles.
Not knowing she’s a rude hoe, the chick scoops up my grits to fill her cheeks. I avert my gaze when she spits the food out of her mouth back onto the plate.
“Oh, hot!”
“That is the temperature people tend to eat food,” I drawl.
“Good morning.”
I stiffen at the kiss Mitch places on the top of my head.
Taken back he asks, “Are you alright?”
I reply, “Fine,” but my eyes shifting from the girl to him says the complete opposite.
“Ah,” he remarks slowly. “Candi, can you give us a moment?”
“Candy,” I grumble with a deep eye roll.
If the girl thought I was welcoming of her presence before, I think she finally has gotten the hint that I’m not too happy.
“Right,” she nods choppily. Her head lowered, she gets up to leave the room.
“Did I tell you, you have a way of making a person feel dumb?”
“Or maybe, I’m helping people notice what was already their truth,” I smirk.
“Oh, we’re being a bitch this morning?”
I narrow my eyes until they are light brown slits.
“You must really like this one, huh?”
He tilts his head, as he places his weight on the back of the chair.
“Have I ever pretended to be something that I am not, Dani?”
“Whatever,” I huff. “I’m not stressing over Candy the stripper.”
“She’s not a stripper. She’s close to getting her nursing degree.”
“What? An actual working woman? You slumming, Mitch,” I mock.
Now, he’s pissed. I’ve lost count of all the times he’s trashed hard-working women for being too damn needy when they meet a man that has means. That’s right. Be mad.
“I expect for your infatuation to have ran its course by the time I get back.”
“Damn, I’ve never met a person so stuck on an act like you. Aren’t you ready to cash in and stop playing house,” he grunts.
“Why the hell you upset?”
“Listen, this,” he said with a back and forth of his finger in the space between us, “is getting old and stupid. If you are too dumb to put an end to it, I’m smart enough to do so.”
I swing back around to threaten him.
“You fucking better not,” I fume.
“I’ve given you more than enough excuse to divorce me. What else do you need? He didn’t call your bluff. Even after a year, the damn man hasn’t made a move. It’s time to cash in your chips. Let it go, Elsa,” he sings in the tune of the hit song from Frozen.
“I won’t give him the satisfaction,” I spit. “It’s not like I’m keeping you from doing as you please.”
“You’re petty,” he tsks. “I’m really, really into Candi,” Mitch adds, getting serious.
I toss back my head in laughter. “Her name is a thing…a goddamn eatable. You’ve been fuckin’ her for what…a-“
“Over 8 months.”
His admission saps all the laughter from the room. My face instantly becomes void of all merriment.
>
“Janice and I have been dating for over 8 months. I’ve known her for 10 months. It took me a whole two months to get her to even acknowledge me because she heard I was married.” He pauses to take a breath. “I want a divorce. On your trip, you need to figure out who’s going to file.”
I’m stunned, flabbergasted even. All I can do is stare. Mitch was always a lucky bastard. Me opening my clenched fist is the sign of my admitted defeat. I paint a half-smile on my face. Our plan to flush out Austin’s feelings for me was a dumb one. At times, I always wondered if my longing for the man stems from an overactive imagination as a teen that I never got over. Kinda like having a crush on a cute cousin, only to find out it can never be. With Austin being my Dad’s best friend, he was always around. When I gave my Mom grief due to the bullies in school because she’s Native American, Austin showed me I should have pride in the strength of my ancestors. He was my go-between, the one I went to when I felt my parents couldn’t understand. The fact that he was handsome, funny, exciting to hang out with, and spoke truth in love just made me fall in love with him easier.
Silly me to think that once I came of age, Austin would see me in the same light. It was torture seeing him with different women. To know he was kissing, touching, spending time, and then after learning about the birds and the bees, fucking his girlfriends killed me. Even still, it wasn’t as if he was going to wait for me to grow up. So, I resolved to let him practice, you know, have his fun until I was ready.
“Dani…I’m really sorry.”
Mitch’s voice seems so far away. Yet, he’s still standing in the same place.
“I was wishing for your happy ever after, too,” he stresses.
“I know. I know,” I reply on a loud exhale.
“You never know…he coul-“
I hold my hand up to signal for him to stop. I can tell it pains him to let go of my dream. I take a second to square my shoulders and raise my head.
“I’ll be fine. Hell, if anything, I’ve seen that I can live without his crusty ass…and I promised you that if this didn’t work, I would finally wake up, move on, right? Right, so,” I begin to speak in a stronger voice. “I’ll call you when I get settled in.”
A Chance at Loving You Page 1