Fortuity: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (The Transcend Series Book 3)

by Jewel E. Ann

I frown as I set everything on the porch. Wet footprints lead into the house. She rinsed off her feet, but she didn’t dry them before going inside to shower.

  Great job, Morgan.

  As I round the corner of the house to rinse off my feet and legs, I halt—even my breath arrests in my chest. There’s no sign of Gabe, but Gracelyn, with her back to me, shrugs off her shirt and shimmies out of her jeans, shoving them into a plastic bag, pausing just long enough to peek through the grass plants and squint up at the window to my bedroom and the one right below it. She’s checking to see if anyone is watching her.

  I really shouldn’t be watching her, but I fear if I move one inch, she might hear me. With her shoes and purse in one hand and the plastic bag in her other hand, she scurries up the stairs, but at the last second she makes one more glance over her shoulder. At. Me.

  Lunging for the hose, I move my gaze to my sand-covered feet, hoping she didn’t notice me staring at her. Making quick moves with the hose, I get ninety percent of the sand off my feet and legs before disappearing to the front porch to dry off, feeling guilty. She caught me staring at her. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’ll have trouble looking her in the eye again.

  *

  “She’s here!” Morgan squeals, glued to the window as I work on my book from the sofa.

  “Maybe you should wait until you’re invited over before you barge in on them.”

  “Daaad … I’m just going to see Gabe. I’ll play it cool around Hunter.”

  “Hunter?”

  Eye roll. “Yes. That’s Mr. Hans’s granddaughter’s name. She’s thirteen.”

  “I don’t like you going over there just to get your fix of screen time and games. I wish you and Gabe would find something to do like … play Frisbee.”

  She deflates on a long sigh. “I know, Dad. I know you wish that.” The door closes behind her.

  “I’ve already lost her,” I mumble to myself while getting back to my book.

  I anticipate a couple hours of alone time before dragging her home for dinner. To my surprise, she barges through the door less than twenty minutes later.

  “Mr. Hans and Hunter are going to get tacos for dinner. They invited me to go. Can I go? Please please please can I go?” Her words fly out of her mouth, leaving her breathless.

  “Thought you were spending time with Gabe.” I sit up and cap my pen.

  “He’s spending the night with a friend. Mr. Hans said you could go too, but I said you were busy working on your book.”

  “So I don’t need to eat?” I cock my head at her.

  “Fine … you can go too. Whatevs …”

  I shake my head. “Go. Have fun. I could use some time away from you anyway.”

  She gives me a crooked smile.

  “I still love you.” I wink.

  She runs over to me and tackles me with the biggest hug, catching me so off guard I have to fight back the tears.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  This is why I don’t ever need anyone but her. Even if it’s once every few months, a hug and an “I love you, Daddy” is all I will ever need.

  “Have fun.” I kiss her cheek before she slips back on her shoes and vanishes out the door. So much for vetting Mr. Hans. I grin at just how far I’ve come with her. It’s hard to let her go, inch by inch, but it’s unfair to hold her back. I won’t be her anchor when she needs to soar.

  I cut up some cheese and turkey sausage and arrange it on a plate with crackers. Dinner for one. The screen door whines when I open it to eat my dinner on the deck, watching the sunset. As I bend to sit in the padded rocking chair, movement to my right catches my attention.

  Gracelyn, sitting on Mr. Hans’s porch swing with her legs outstretched and a glass of wine in her hand, lifts the glass and smiles at me.

  I catch myself wetting my lips, just like Morgan said I do, right before smiling at Gracelyn. She doesn’t say anything, so neither do I. Over the next ten or so minutes, I focus on my cheesy dinner while my sharp peripheral vision tracks her slow movements, the swing swaying like the way her white sundress flutters in the slight breeze.

  Just as I convince myself I should be friendly and invite her over, she makes her way to my deck.

  “No tacos?” She grins, climbing the stairs in her bare feet, toenails painted black like half of her hair, her wine glass in one hand and the bottle in her other hand.

  “Nah. I think Morgan wanted to go without me.”

  Gracelyn eases into the chair beside me, bringing her citrusy scent with her. I’m not sure if it’s a perfume, lotion, or shampoo, but she always smells like sweet orange and maybe grapefruit.

  She sets the wine bottle on the wood floor between us. “So … about earlier and all the days before earlier …”

  I stare at my plate, piling the last piece of sausage and cheese onto the last cracker, fearing where this conversation is headed.

  “I get a lot of hair on me at work. And it’s messy and itchy. So, I remove my clothes before going inside.”

  I nod slowly, my face feeling an unusual amount of heat. “Okay.” Yes, that’s the best I’ve got.

  “I figure it’s like seeing someone in a bikini—you know, bra and panties. You’re seeing the same amount of skin. It shouldn’t be a huge deal, right?”

  Nothing. I’ve got nothing. I continue to work the slow nod. She’s right. Same amount of skin, but there’s a psychological element of knowing it’s not a bikini. It’s her bra and panties. Maybe it’s a guy thing, but silk and cotton lace have a different effect than polyester and spandex. I know it’s stupid, but I don’t make the rules. I’m just genetically wired to follow them.

  “So we’re good?”

  I chuckle, finally glancing over at her, mesmerized by her freckles and how much more prominent they seem with the sun illuminating her face. “We’re good.”

  “Good,” she whispers before dragging her teeth along her bottom lip.

  “No Gabe equals wine for dinner?” I hurry up and find something to say, something to distract me from her lips. After four and a half weeks, I find more than just her lips distracting.

  “Yes. I don’t drink around Gabe. I’m not sure why. I just don’t. I mean … I know Kyle and Emily consumed alcohol around him. They had this huge bar in their basement stocked with every kind of alcohol you can imagine. I just don’t want to be impaired in the slightest bit if anything were to happen to him.”

  “You do realize he could break a bone or cut his head while at a friend’s house. And if they called, you’d be in no shape to meet them at the hospital with wine running through your veins,” I say just as she takes another sip of wine.

  She spits it back into the glass and coughs. “Oh my god! You’re right! What was I thinking?”

  “I’m kidding.” I laugh. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Kidding?” She glares at me. “You mean you’re trying to make me feel inadequate and bad about myself. That’s what you’re doing. Not. Cool. Buddy!” She shoots out of the chair and dumps the contents of her glass into beach grass on the other side of the railing with her back to me.

  “Gracelyn. I’m sorry. I really was just kidding—”

  Her body shakes.

  Shit.

  I made her cry.

  “Please don’t …” I rest a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to turn toward to me.

  She’s … not crying. She’s laughing.

  “I’m kidding. Kidding is fun. Right?” The smile on her face stretches to her eyes. “But …” She points at me. “The look on your face is priceless.”

  I try to act like I knew she was joking, but I didn’t. “You’re pure evil.” My head inches side to side in total disbelief. She reminds me of Jenna in so many ways it renders me speechless. “I want to kiss you,” I think I say those words aloud, but I’m not sure.

  I definitely think them. Did I mean to say them? I’m not sure about that either.

  All amusement vanishes from
Gracelyn’s face. I’m out of practice and not just at kissing. I’m out of practice at everything related to anything beyond friendship. We can’t be more than friends because of geographical challenges and … she’s done with men.

  “I’m not going to kiss you.” I clear the frog from my throat and take a step back. “And since I’m not going to do it, I probably should have kept that thought to myself.”

  “You’re leaving,” she whispers.

  I nod.

  “And I’m …” Her brows draw together.

  “Done with men.” I finish for her.

  “Yeah.”

  Sliding my hands into the back pockets of my faded gray shorts, I twist my lips to the side, feeling as high, as awkward, as alive as I did the night I asked Jenna out on our first date. “Then it’s settled. I won’t kiss you.”

  Gracelyn rubs her lips together, making me want to kiss her even more. “I should go.”

  Taking her cue, I move back one more step to give her space to grab her wine bottle. She retrieves the bottle and shuffles her bare feet to the porch steps.

  “You don’t have to go.” I feel like my uncontrolled kiss confession just drove a wedge between us. With a little less than two more months here, and Morgan and Gabe finding a close friendship, I don’t want it to be weird.

  Gracelyn rests her hand on the railing, dropping her gaze to the ground. “I do. Or else …”

  I wait. She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t move.

  “Or else?”

  There’s something incredibly sexy about the way she looks at me over her shoulder. She’s done it several times, and each time I think my heart trips over its next beat.

  A tiny smile, that appears to hold a secret, curls her lips. “If I stay, I might forget I’m not supposed to want you to kiss me.”

  Not just one beat. My heart trips over the next five beats, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Gracelyn

  I’m not drunk, yet I stumble home, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. Collapsing onto the bed, I hug my left arm to my chest, letting my right thumb and forefinger massage the clasp to the white gold bracelet that’s easily hidden by my watch.

  “Say something,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “You should have something to say about Nate. So just … say it.”

  Brandon doesn’t say a word. I know he’s thinking all kinds of things like how I have no business having any sort of intimate thoughts about a man who is leaving in two months. I’ve managed to ruin all of my relationships since Brandon died. I know he’s thinking shit about that. He told me to find a worthy opponent, but I’ve failed. He was my worthy opponent. I have to believe he’s waiting for me in my next life.

  However, right now, in this life, it’s hard to not feel this pull to Nathaniel Hunt—especially when he looks at me like Brandon used to look at me and when he says he wants to kiss me.

  Gah!

  I want to be kissed by him. Just once. Would it count if it were one kiss? Would it have to mean something more than just a kiss? A grin takes over my face, thinking about his smile when he said it. The way his shoulders hugged his ears, giving off a boyish vibe even with some gray peppered along his scruffy jaw.

  “Elvis, we’re back. And we have dessert,” Mr. Hans yells from downstairs.

  I expected privacy—the upstairs being an apartment. Instead, my landlord yells like my dad, and the neighbor girl practically lives here. And for some reason I love it. They feel like family, and I think both Gabe and I need that right now. It won’t last. Morgan and Nate will go home to Wisconsin, and eventually I will need to find a place to raise Gabe that doesn’t involve a shared kitchen.

  I miss Gabe when he’s not here. While I’ve always loved him, I don’t remember feeling like I missed him when I lived in Idaho. It didn’t take long to feel like he’s mine—maybe not my son, but my responsibility and mine to love in a way that feels deeper than I loved him before. The kind of love that makes me miss him when he’s not here.

  “Did you hear Mr. Hans?” Morgan pokes her head into my bedroom. Yep, no privacy.

  I grin, not moving an inch from my spot on the bed. “Yes. I heard him. Thanks.”

  “What are you doing?” She plops her butt onto the edge of the bed and lies back next to me.

  What am I doing? Great question. I’m missing Gabe and his parents for that matter. I’m listening for my dead boyfriend’s voice. And I’m thinking about your dad kissing me. I’m sure she’d love for me to say all of this aloud, but I don’t.

  Instead, I roll toward her and she rolls toward me.

  “What was it like traveling the world for so many years instead of being in school like your peers?”

  Her lips twist as her eyes roll to the side for a few seconds. “Hmmm … I don’t know. I’ve never been in public school. We left Wisconsin when I was two. Traveling the world is all I’ve ever known. I’m excited to just be normal for once, but Dad thinks I’ll feel trapped. I think I’m going to find a boyfriend and lots of girlfriends to talk to about my boyfriend. I want to fall in love.”

  I grin. “You’re ten.”

  She lifts a shoulder. “My dad was younger than me when he met Daisy.”

  “Daisy?”

  “Yes. The first girl he loved. She died. And he named me after her—Morgan Daisy.”

  I let that play in my mind a few moments. Nate lost his wife and he named their child after his first love. Interesting.

  “Your dad said you’d like him to find someone so he’s not lonely when you go to college. Did he …” I bite my bottom lip while searching for the right way to ask this. “Did he ever have a friend—a female friend—while you were traveling?”

  “Like a girlfriend?”

  I grin. “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  I nod slowly.

  “Do you like my dad? I think he likes you. Or at least he likes looking at you and giving you a special smile. We’re not staying here and you’re not moving to Wisconsin, so I think he thinks you’re a bad choice to be his girlfriend.”

  Her words and brutal honesty bring a smile to my face. “I’m done having boyfriends. I’ve had bad luck with them. I’m sure you’ll have much better luck.”

  Morgan frowns. “I’m not sure. When I asked Gabe if he wanted to kiss me, his nose scrunched up like this.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

  Whoa … okay. She likes Gabe a lot. Or she wants to know what it’s like to kiss a boy. He never mentioned this to me. I’m way over my head right now with this young girl waiting for me to say something.

  “You’re young.”

  “Ugh!” She rolls onto her back and drapes an arm over her face. “Now you sound like my dad. I know everyone thinks ten is young, but I don’t feel young. Why is ten too young to kiss a boy? How old were you the first time you kissed a boy?”

  I chuckle, rolling onto my back too. “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I was nine. A ten-year-old neighbor boy kissed me in the back hallway of our church right before he got baptized. I was shocked. It was just a quick peck on my lips when nobody was looking, but I was in shock. He gave me this devilish grin and said, ‘My last sin before they’re all washed away.’ And we never spoke of it again. And for the record…” I roll back toward her, and her head flops to the side to look at me “…I was fourteen before another boy kissed me.”

  Morgan’s eyes widen. “I can’t wait until I’m fourteen. I just can’t. I want to know what it feels like. I want to know if it will feel like Romeo and Juliet.”

  “You’ve read Shakespeare?” I quirk an eyebrow.

  “Oh yes. I’ve read Romeo and Juliet more than once. And Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. However, I like modern stories even better, like The Fault in Our Stars, even though it’s sad. And I love Twilight and The Hunger Games.”

  She’s ten! I think I was reading Judy Blume at ten. Definitely not Shakespeare and vampire romances.


  “My dad’s writing a book. It’s a memoir. He says it’s a love story about me and him.”

  I smile. “You have a great dad. I hope you know it.”

  “I know. He’s the best. So … are you coming downstairs for dessert? It’s red velvet cake. Mr. Hans picked it up from a bakery. It’s Hunter’s favorite.”

  “Cake sounds perfect.”

  Morgan jumps out of bed and holds out her hand. I take it. I’d hoped I’d find friends here; I just never imagined it would be a ten-year-old girl and a seventy-year-old man.

  “What took you two so long? Don’t worry, we saved you some cake.” Mr. Hans smiles from his recliner with Hunter on the sofa, her thumbs dancing along her phone screen. Gabe will get along well with her.

  “Cake, Morgan?”

  My steps falter when I hear Nate’s voice from the kitchen.

  Mr. Hans winks at me. “I invited Nate for cake too.”

  I nod slowly. “I see. Whose birthday is it?”

  “Life is a celebration. Cake needs no excuse.”

  So much for having some time to digest what Nate said to me and my flirty reaction to his kiss comment. I put on a neutral face and drag my timid ass into the kitchen.

  “Cake, Gracelyn?” Nate glances up from the counter, a knife in one hand and a plate in his other hand.

  “Mmm … yes, Gracelyn. You want cake.” Morgan rolls her eyes back in her head as she slowly chews a bite, standing next to Nate.

  How am I supposed to look at him when I saw him barely an hour ago and he said he wanted to kiss me, and I returned the desire without the actual kiss? I guess we’re going to be two people who want to kiss but know that it will never happen.

  “Thank you.” I take the cake, giving Nate a two-second glance. It’s all I can give him without completely self-combusting into a pile of ashes.

  “Mr. Hans … this is so good.” Morgan traipses out of the kitchen.

  “It is good. I haven’t had cake in a long time.” I slowly lick the frosting from the fork.

  Nate glances at the floor, eyes narrowed, and hunches down. After a few seconds, I move around to his side of the island.

  “Did you drop something?”