Chance Encounter (Fates Aligned Book 1)

by Christi Whitson

  “The best aunt ever,” Miranda smiled, her eyes filling with tears. We chuckled together, and I reached across the table to hold her hand. She’d never felt more like a sister to me than in that moment.

  “I have no doubt it’ll be hard, especially with the hormones, like you said. But I’d do it for you. I’m absolutely certain you were meant to be a mother.” Her grip tightened as her tears spilled over, and my own eyes were misting as well.

  “I’m afraid to get my hopes up,” she admitted, wiping her cheeks with her free hand. “As horrible as it probably sounds, what I hate most is knowing that I’m the problem. My body doesn’t want to cooperate, and it’s keeping Gabe from becoming a dad. Having a baby is his dream too, and I can’t give him that. Every month that goes by without a positive test is harder than the last. It seems like the universe is against me on this one.”

  My chest tightened with empathy.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure Gabe doesn’t see it that way. Don’t give up. Whether it happens through surrogacy or adoption or some other method… You guys will be incredible parents. Let’s keep taking it one step at a time, okay? If you want, I can come over tonight so we can all sit down and talk about it. Or would you rather talk to Gabe alone first?”

  “We’ve talked about it a lot, just not recently. How about we plan on dinner around seven at our place? I’ll make sure he’s up for it as soon as I get home and text you if it’s a no-go.”

  “Perfect.” I smiled and squeezed her hand again before returning to my meal, and it was a few seconds before I realized she was still watching me. “What?”

  “Nothing, I just… You don’t know what it means to me that you’re willing to even consider something like this. I don’t know that I would even consider it if it meant having a stranger carry the baby. I think that might be too much for me.”

  Good point.

  “It’s a lot of trust to put in a stranger.”

  “Exactly. But I already trust you with my life, Kenn. How could I not trust you with this?”

  “I’m honored,” I said sincerely.

  The enormity of what I’d offered settled fully into my consciousness, and I tried to shake off the impending rush of emotion. We were both perilously close to letting our hopes get the best of us. There were still too many questions to be answered and potential problems to solve. I gave Miranda my most encouraging smile.

  “Let’s talk it out with Gabe tonight, and… We’ll go from there.”

  Three

  Kennedy

  Mid-December

  I fidgeted nervously as I gazed around the exam room at the obstetrician’s office. It looked much the same as every other OBGYN exam room I’d ever been in, with women’s health posters papering its walls and unflattering fluorescent lighting. The tissue paper covering the exam table crackled beneath me each time I shifted, momentarily breaking the silent tension in the room. My anxiety was nothing compared to Miranda’s, however. She was perched on the edge of her seat, jimmying her leg as her eyes alternated between me, the clock, and the door.

  “Babe, try to relax. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” Gabe said, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his wife’s back. Miranda sighed in frustration.

  “It’s been more than five minutes. Shouldn’t they have the results by now? What are they waiting for?”

  “I’m sure the doctor will want to deliver the news himself either way,” I assured her. “Maybe he’s with another patient.”

  She nodded but said nothing, and a moment later, she got up to pace the room. Gabe smiled indulgently and gave me a little shrug. He was every bit as anxious as Miranda, but he did a better job of concealing it. He'd been nothing but supportive since the moment they'd first started trying to conceive, and even as the months had become years, he'd never wavered. I’d watched him console Miranda through every setback and disappointment, always encouraging her and never allowing her to lose hope. They were the most solid couple I’d ever known.

  As I waited for the doctor to make his appearance, I was surprised at just how much I’d come to want this. Not many women would choose surrogacy as their first experience with pregnancy, but from the second I voiced the thought aloud to my friends, it had simply felt right. That feeling hadn’t changed, and as the three of us had gone through the process over the last few months, I’d become hyper-focused on doing my part.

  I was more attuned to my own body than ever before, tracking my periods, body temperature, and other various physical changes. Today, we would find out if my diligence had paid off and the IVF procedure had worked. I mentally prepared myself for the worst-case scenario, and I was sure Gabe and Miranda were doing the same.

  If it’s negative, we’ll just regroup and try again, I thought. My inner voice seemed to carry the same determination I’d used to encourage Miranda in recent months. I didn’t want to imagine the disappointment and heartache she would endure if she and Gabe were met with failure yet again.

  I held my breath when the door finally opened to admit the obstetrician, and Miranda forced herself to sit down again. Dr. Hartman smiled at us in welcome, but his expression revealed nothing.

  “Good to see you all again. How are we doing?” he greeted, extending a handshake to each of us in turn.

  “Fine,” Miranda managed, her eyes glued to the file in his hands. Gabe seconded with a nod, and I pursed my lips sympathetically. I could practically hear their silent screams of anticipation.

  “I think we’re all just a bit nervous.”

  “Of course,” Dr. Hartman smiled widely. “Well, I won’t drag this out. The test came back positive. Congratulations!”

  Positive… Holy shit. I’m pregnant.

  Miranda gasped and brought a hand to her mouth in genuine surprise. I knew she’d been refusing to hope for a success on the first attempt, no matter how much Gabe and I had encouraged her to stay positive. Gabe hugged her tightly, his eyes watering with intense emotion. They pulled apart a moment later only to sweep me into a long group hug, and I couldn’t suppress my tears of joy.

  “Thank you so much, Kenn!” Miranda wept happily. “You have no idea what this means to us.”

  I couldn’t form a response through my own tidal wave of emotion, and I was grateful when Dr. Hartman reclaimed our attention. Miranda was now hugging him as well.

  “I must admit I’m surprised it took on the first try,” he said frankly. “Without a proven track record of Kennedy’s fertility, it was a longshot. I can’t remember the last time I was so happy to deliver good news. We all nodded in agreement and settled back into our seats before he continued. “Now that that’s out of the way, how have you been feeling, Kennedy? Any symptoms yet?”

  “Not really, other than missing my period last week. We were afraid it might be too early to test.”

  “Well, the IVF method speeds up the process a little bit. Since we know the exact date of conception, we know you’re right around the three-week mark, and that gives us a due date of August 28th. I’d like to do a transvaginal ultrasound today to confirm the test results, but I’m afraid there won’t be much to see. It’ll still be a few weeks before there’s a heartbeat to detect.”

  Even without the experience of hearing a heartbeat, being able to see the tiny smudge of black and white that would become a baby was nothing short of magical. Miranda was in tears yet again, and my cheeks were beginning to stiffen from smiling so much. We watched the doctor take measurements and listened to him explain what was happening, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the screen.

  This crazy idea, this arduous and painstaking process, this baby… It was real. It was happening. Regardless of the fact that the baby wasn’t mine and that I wasn’t the one becoming a mother, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

  My life would never be the same.

  * * *

  Mid-February

  Week Twelve

  “Hey!” Gabe greeted me with a smile and a hug when he answered the door. He moved a
side to let me in and helped me out of my jacket. “You’re early.”

  “Well, I wanted to help set up. Think she’ll let me?”

  “I doubt it, but it’s good you’re here. Maybe you can get her to settle down.” We shared a smile as he led me toward the kitchen.

  “I hope you didn’t let her cook.”

  “Poisoning our guests right before we announce that we’re going to be parents? No way. We had it catered, just to be safe.”

  “I heard that!” Miranda called out, glaring playfully at her husband as she hugged me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good,” I grinned, having grown accustomed to Miranda’s constant concern. She was a ‘helicopter mom’ before her kid was even out of the womb. Not that I could blame her. “I think I’m finally done with the nausea.”

  Calling it morning sickness was a deception of epic proportion. I flat out refused to use that term, since the queasiness and vomiting had plagued me relentlessly throughout the entire day for nearly six weeks. I’d formed an addiction to the antiemetic tea they sold at the maternity store in the mall.

  “I hope so. You’ve been miserable.”

  “Well, everything I read says the second trimester is supposed to be the easiest, so hopefully that holds true for us too.”

  I sniffed the air appreciatively, feeling immensely grateful for the return of my appetite as I surveyed the delicious looking spread on the counter. The dining room table was decorated in a warm, trendy style, revealing Miranda’s talent for interior design. I pitched in with the rest of the setup, despite being repeatedly urged to take a seat somewhere. As far as I was concerned, being pregnant didn’t make me an invalid, and I didn’t want to be treated as one. I didn’t resent Miranda for her hovering, however. She and Gabe had more right than anyone to be overcautious in this situation.

  They were expecting at least ten more people, and Miranda was practically vibrating with nervous excitement. She and Gabe had kept all discussion of surrogacy to themselves, so the news was bound to come as a shock to everyone. When she rattled off the names of their guests, I was pleased to hear her brother’s name on the list.

  “So, I finally get to meet your brother? Is he bringing one of his many women?” We shared a brief laugh, but Miranda shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve actually been a little worried about him lately. I know I said I wanted Donny to stop dating bimbos, but now he seems to have given up on dating altogether. He’s been moping around a lot too. It’s like he’s depressed or something.”

  “Maybe one of them finally got under his skin,” I suggested. It would serve the player right.

  “Maybe. What about your brother? You haven’t mentioned Eli much lately.”

  “I haven’t talked to him much. I think he and June might be going through a rough patch. He tends to withdraw when he’s dealing with personal stuff, so I try not to poke and prod too much.” My big brother was by far my favorite family member, but I’d long since learned when to give him his space.

  “And you still haven’t told him or your parents about the pregnancy?”

  Ugh. Just thinking about it made me cringe.

  “Not yet. I figured you guys had the right idea about waiting until the twelve-week mark. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “That and you’re dreading telling your mom,” Miranda surmised empathetically.

  She’d only met my mother a handful of times, but that was more than enough to give most people an accurate measure of Virginia Brighton’s personality. I knew better than anyone just how shallow and self-absorbed my mother could be. We’d never had the best relationship, so we didn’t talk often, and I knew the news of the surrogacy was sure to result in a lot of unnecessary drama.

  “I can’t imagine she’ll have anything positive to say about it. I can’t put it off much longer, though. I’ll probably start showing soon.”

  With that, the conversation turned back to the pregnancy as we waited for the rest of the guests. Miranda’s parents, David and Laurelle West, were the first to arrive. I’d met her dad a handful of times and knew her mom pretty well, thanks to various shopping outings with Miranda. They were both extremely pleasant people, and Miranda’s exuberant personality was definitely something she’d inherited from her mother.

  Gabe’s parents arrived next, followed by the next-door neighbors and a few of Miranda’s friends from work. Mrs. Cortés struck up a conversation about her garden, but I was soon distracted by the sound of Miranda’s voice, introducing me to yet another new dinner guest. I turned toward her and felt my lips part in shock at the sight of the man standing next to her.

  And the earth stopped moving.

  A somewhat detached part of my brain heard Miranda introducing the godlike man as her brother, Donny, but the rest of my mind was frozen in wonder. It was him. And my memory hadn’t nearly done him justice.

  Somehow, he was even more attractive than he’d been that day at Cafe Moda, which was so ridiculous I wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it. He was wearing the same silver tie, but his previously clean-shaven jaw now bore several weeks’ worth of growth, making him appear more rugged and less like the manicured businessman I’d originally taken him for. The effect was striking, and my thighs clenched as our gazes held.

  I watched him cross the room, both of us ignoring Miranda’s curious expression as he took my hand and gave it a gentle tug. I silently followed him from the living room to the small guest bathroom, and in the space of two heartbeats, he’d closed the door and backed me against it.

  Words failed me, but it didn’t matter. Before I could so much as take another breath, his lips were on mine.

  Four

  Donovan

  I scowled at my reflection as I straightened the knot of my silver necktie, noting that it was the same one I’d been wearing six months ago on the day I met Emma. No matter how hard I’d tried to put her out of my thoughts, I was constantly plagued by little reminders of her. She was in the air each time I smelled fresh coffee. The memory of her blue eyes resonated with every day that granted a clear, blue sky. Even the moderate chill of the winter months reminded me of her since it contrasted the oppressive summer heat of the day we met.

  Pathetic.

  I’d relived that perfect hour of conversation more times than I cared to admit, recalling the way our eyes had been drawn to one another before even a single word had been spoken. My eye had been caught by the gleam of the cafe’s lights reflecting in her long, honey-blonde hair, and I felt a strange desire to test the softness with my own hand. I admired her gentle curves and light tan, noting the way her dress had hugged her slender waist.

  I sighed with frustration that I couldn’t see her face, and for one terrifying moment, I was afraid I might have actually spoken the thought aloud. She turned to look at me then, and I wasn’t prepared for her stunning blue eyes, her seductively full lips, or the adorable freckles scattered across her pert little nose.

  She moved away from me, setting up her computer across the crowded cafe and getting lost in her work quickly, but I never stopped watching her. I must’ve sat there nearly fifteen minutes, wracking my brain for something witty or charming to say so I could find out if her voice was as perfect as her face. Talking to a woman had never presented me with that much of a challenge, and I felt completely out of my element. I considered myself to be fairly well-versed in the art of seduction, and I knew I’d been blessed with an appearance that made those interactions easier. But none of my prior experiences had prepared me for Emma. I felt like a sweaty-palmed teenager, struck dumb at the sight of a pretty girl. Staring at a woman in a public place like a creepy stalker was not my style.

  The realization that she might up and leave at any moment forced me out of my stupor. I didn’t want to spend another second of my life not knowing her. As I crossed the cafe to introduce myself, I became even more enchanted by her. The sunlight streaming through the window behind her seemed to set her hair ablaze, revealing sh
ades of gold and butterscotch that hadn’t been visible under artificial light. The effect was mesmerizing, but the conversation that followed made her more appealing than any physical feature could have. I’d never felt so interested in what a woman had to say. She was bright and charming, intelligent and funny.

  And sexy. Christ, I’d lost count of the number of times I had to force my eyes away from her mouth as she spoke, and I’d fantasized about having it wrapped around my cock too many times in the months since.

  It hadn’t taken long to realize the number she’d given me was inaccurate. A stranger had replied to the text I’d sent her a few hours after leaving the cafe, but my first assumption was that she’d typed her number wrong by accident. She’d included a last name, Franklin, in the entry on my contact list, so I took the next logical step and began searching for her on social media. Even after hours of meticulous clicking and scrolling, I found absolutely nothing, and it was only then that I realized I’d been intentionally misled.

  But why? The question echoed in my mind for the thousandth time, churning through the possibilities yet again as I navigated the evening traffic between my Tampa Heights apartment and my sister’s home in Lowry Park Central.

  Had I misread her? Had I made her feel uncomfortable? Her interest had seemed equal to my own, but I was forced to admit I’d missed something. It was entirely possible, of course, that Emma had merely viewed me as a conquest of sorts, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I’d been accused more than once of treating women in the same manner, and while that was never my intention, I understood why people might come to that conclusion. I wasn’t exactly the poster boy for healthy relationships.

  For a solid month following my encounter with Emma, I went back to Cafe Moda almost every day, hoping for a glimpse of her. And every day, I left disappointed. At that point, I decided to avoid the cafe altogether and shift my focus to finding someone new. Learning to do without my favorite coffee blend was only half the battle. Unfortunately, Emma had a bigger impact on me than I realized, because I found myself making comparisons with every woman I met. One had blue eyes, but they weren’t as striking as Emma’s. Another was the same height, but I’d felt nothing when she’d looked up at me flirtatiously.