by Cara Bristol
She jogged into the street. “Chance, wait!”
He peeled away in a cloud of burning rubber.
* * * *
Laura reentered the studio, and Destiny squeezed off a final photo of the baby. “What was that all about? You ran out of here like the roof was caving in.”
“False alarm,” Laura said cheerfully, a cat with a mouthful of canary feathers. She was a terrible liar. Unfortunately, the client’s presence prevented Destiny from grilling her as she deserved.
She addressed the baby’s mother. “I got some great shots of Sophia.”
“I’m sorry she behaved so badly.”
She smiled. “She was a perfect little girl.”
“We’ll have proofs for review tomorrow,” Laura said. “Would you like us to e-mail them, or would you prefer to come in to choose your package?”
“Why don’t you e-mail them so my husband can see?” The mother hefted her purse and a diaper bag over one shoulder, and then settled a drooling Sophia on the opposite hip.
“Will do. Let me help you out.” Laura escorted the mother to the front. She remained gazing at the street for several long seconds after the departure.
“What’s going on?” Destiny anchored her hands on her hips.
“The next client arrives in fifteen minutes.” Laura collected the toys Sophia had lobbed around the room, and Destiny bided her time. Her sister slam-dunked a stuffed squirrel into a basket. “Chance was lurking outside,” she said, smugness coating her tone.
Destiny’s stomach plunged with panic while her cardiac rate soared with hope. “Is he still there?”
“He’s gone.”
Her fingers shook as she tucked her new short hair behind her ears. “Are you sure? How long was he there?” She nibbled on her upper lip.
Laura’s expression grew stern. “Go see him. Work it out.”
“I can’t. He doesn’t love me.” He didn’t even like her.
“Yes, he does. That’s why he was hanging around.”
“What was he doing?”
“Sitting in his car, watching the building.” A smile grazed her lips. “Stalking.”
It sounded too good to be true. “What did he look like?”
“He wore a hat. I couldn’t see his face.”
“What was he driving?”
“A white SUV.”
The bottom fell out of her bucket of hope. “That’s not what he drives.”
“Maybe he does now. Or he used somebody else’s car. I sensed something odd all morning, and when I glanced out the window, there he was.”
“Did you talk to him? Did he say anything?”
Laura shook her head. “No. When I called his name, he drove away.”
“See? It wasn’t him.”
“By drove away, I mean burned rubber. You could track him by the black streaks he left on the road.” Laura bobbed her head confidently. “He came to check up on you. That means he cares.”
“It’s been a week since I left, and he’s made no effort to contact me.”
“This was his effort.”
Destiny collapsed onto a stool. “I can’t go through this, get my hopes up, only to have them smashed. I’ve loved him for so long, and after the most horrible thing happened, I thought I had a shot to be with him. But he doesn’t love me…me as Destiny or me as Zoe.”
Laura snorted. “I think—”
Destiny raised her palms to ward off arguments too painful to endure. “Please let this pass. I have to accept the truth and get on with my life.”
“I hate to see true love die.”
Sometimes her sister could be obnoxiously persistent. “You mean well, but it’s not true love because it’s not mutual. He doesn’t care for me. There’s no chance that anything could come of this.”
No Chance.
Laura strode to the reception desk and neatened some papers into stacks. “All right. I won’t talk to you about it anymore.”
Chapter Fourteen
Roman stuck a toothpick in his mouth, leaned against the fender of the ancient, massive sedan, and crossed his legs at the ankles. “What you need is to find another woman. Nothing cures heartbreak like finding another chick.”
“Yeah, like you know anything about heartache,” Chance retorted. His brother had caused heartbreak. But experienced it? To Roman, women were as interchangeable as socks. Chance ducked under the car’s hood. He’d already deduced a clogged fuel filter had caused the lurching the car’s owner complained about.
“This obsession of yours isn’t because you think Destiny and Zoe are the same person, is it?”
“I’m not obsessed. And no.” He was obsessed, but he could truthfully say that Destiny and Zoe were not the same. Not at all.
“The sooner you get over this, the sooner your life—and more importantly, mine—can get back to normal. You’ve been moping around, and you’ve lost focus. Like this car.” Roman thumped the fender. “We’re an auto body shop. We don’t do engine repairs.”
Chance wiggled a hose and tuned out his brother.
“Are you going to answer me?”
Standing up, Chance scowled. “Have you asked a question?” He wiped his hands on a shop rag he pulled from his back pocket. “She reminded me of Memaw.”
A white-haired lady had driven into the shop—almost into the wall, since she could hardly see over the steering wheel of the massive automobile—and asked for help. She came up to his armpit, and something about the way she’d “young manned” him got to him. He couldn’t turn her away for fear that a less scrupulous shop might take advantage of her ignorance and convince her to undertake unneeded costly repairs.
Roman slugged him on the arm. “Let’s grab a couple of beers after work. I’ve heard of a bar you might like. Bottom’s Up. It’s a spanko hangout. We should check it out.”
“No shit?” Chance arched his eyebrows.
“No shit.”
“Sounds good, but I have something else planned after work.”
“You’re not going to do something stupid like beg Zoe to take you back, are you?”
“No.” Not Zoe. Destiny. A week had passed since he’d spied on her at the studio—two weeks since she’d left him after their fight—and his conviction that she should come clean first had eroded. Would he allow stubbornness to cost him a relationship?
You don’t have a relationship.
Maybe we could have.
They could start fresh, like they just met. Hi, I’m Chance. Hello, I’m Destiny. It could be interesting getting to know the one he loved instead of falling in love with the one he knew. He had decided to start at square one: ask her out.
The possibility that Destiny had died and the woman who resembled Zoe was, in fact, her, still existed. But the time had come to stop guessing, cease playing games. Tonight he would get the whole truth out of her. He shoved the dirty shop rag into his pocket.
Two bursts of a bell signaled a customer had entered the waiting area. “Could you get that?” He glanced at Roman. Their employee who ran the front desk was on her honeymoon.
“Fine.” Roman shoved off from the fender and sauntered toward the front of the shop.
Chance strode to the grease-stained desk and grabbed the phone. He dialed an auto parts supplier to order a replacement fuel filter.
“Reliable Auto Parts. Can you hold please?” The words rushed through a background of ringing phones. He sighed and sank into the swivel chair, turning his back to the waiting room. He’d give the store a few minutes before he left to buy the part himself. Roman—damn him—was right. He should have referred the elderly lady someplace else.
He could hear the hum of his brother’s baritone, and then came his footfalls along with a lighter, clicking step.
“Why don’t you and I get to know each other better over lunch?” rumbled Roman’s trying-to-pick-up-a-chick voice.
Chance thinned his lips. His horndog brother had promised he’d stop hitting on customers. It was bad for business.
<
br /> “Judging from that toothpick hanging out of your mouth, I’d say you’ve already had lunch, so no,” responded a dismissive, familiar female voice.
He dropped the telephone receiver into the cradle and spun his chair around.
“My brother,” Roman jerked his head toward him and added, “This is Laura, Destiny’s sister.
“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Roman touched her elbow. “Don’t leave without saying good-bye.” He winked at her and strolled out of the work area.
Laura wasted no time on courtesies but folded her arms, cocked her head, and blasted him with an X-ray stare—the kind that drove grown men to their knees in confession and convinced naughty children mothers could see out the backs of their heads. “When are you two going to come to your senses?”
When indeed? The woman who was supposed to be Zoe had been acting strange, and his thoughts could certainly be considered crazy. They were two insane people traveling on the same trajectory. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She stared at him, and her eyes seemed to glow bright. A smile touched her lips, then vanished. “You know who she is.”
“I know what I think, but the evidence of my eyes proves otherwise.”
“What about the evidence of your heart?” She closed the gap between them and tapped him in the center of his chest. “What do you see in here?”
“I attended Destiny’s memorial service. You did too,” he argued, a last-ditch effort to avoid a fiery collision between impossible and possible.
Laura shrugged. “So did Destiny.”
Chapter Fifteen
The blinds covered the windows when Destiny rushed into the studio to relieve Laura. Her sister wasn’t at the reception desk, and the screen stretched across the room, slightly ajar. Hugging the nondescript bag under her arm, Destiny squeezed through the opening to find Laura at the small photo desk.
She lifted her head, relief flitting across her face. “You’re late.”
“Traffic,” she said, hoping her sister wouldn’t pick up on the lie.
“No problem. You’re back now.” Laura set down her e-reader. “Not many calls, although I booked two sittings for later in the week. What did you buy?” She eyed the sack.
Nothing was worse than a nosy psychic. “Just a few things I needed.” Destiny gestured toward the front. “What’s with the blinds, the screen?”
Laura ducked to retrieve her purse from the desk drawer. “Sitting here twiddling my thumbs, I felt like a fish in an aquarium.”
Destiny frowned. “People will assume we’re closed. We rented this place to invite walk-ins.” She spoke to the top of her sister’s head. “If it’s that slow, maybe we should lock up and go home.” She could test her purchases. She clamped her arm against the plain sack.
“No!” Laura’s head shot up, and she produced a set of keys. In a more normal tone, she added, “Slow or not, one of us should be here.”
“You don’t need to yell. There’s only another hour to go anyway.” Tuesdays and Thursdays they remained open until eight p.m. “Where are you going again?” It had been her sister’s night to work, but she’d begged off right after a long lunch.
“Uh, meeting some friends.” The purse clasp fought Laura’s efforts to close it. “You’re a peach for filling in for me.” Tossing a wave over her shoulder, she darted out.
“Well, that was weird,” Destiny announced to the empty room with a shrug. She dumped the contents of her bag onto the desk. Spread across the ink blotter, the items appeared even more salacious than they had at the sex shop.
Purchasing sex toys proved to be a harrowing experience as she discussed the merits of size, speed, and texture with a complete stranger. If luck held out, she would never, ever have to face that man again. If a toy replacement or an upgrade became necessary, she’d buy off the Internet next time.
She hoped her embarrassment would be worth it—that the toys would distract her, take her mind off Chance. So many little things reminded her of him: Taco Paco’s, the chardonnay they’d sipped during their last meal together, his brand of soap and shampoo. She watched for his truck, checking out the drivers of similar vehicles, hoping to catch sight of him.
Her body craved him with a bone-deep ache that dogged her days and distracted her nights. Perhaps if she could relieve her physical symptoms, she could quiet the mental and emotional ones.
Since she couldn’t have him, she’d make do with a flexible silicone substitute. A Throbbing Blue Veiner.
Who chose those names? she wondered and attacked the nuclear-explosion-proof plastic packaging with a pair of scissors. When the clerk had learned she was a sex-toy virgin, he had attempted to steer her toward one he deemed “more realistically sized,” but Destiny preferred one that approximated Chance.
Packaging shredded, she hefted the phallus-shaped dildo in her hands, slapping it against her palm, then squeezed it and pumped. The shape and texture did compare somewhat to a real penis. When she got home, she’d give it a whirl. It wasn’t as large as the man it replaced, but what was?
She assessed her other purchase. Fool’s folly. She’d suffered with buyer’s remorse even before she’d left the store. Don’t open it, return it, common sense advised, but she ripped open the package to reveal the leather flogger. She dragged the supple red-and-black strands across her palm, then snapped them against her thigh. The strands splayed out and lightly stung her leg through the fabric of her pants. How much more would it tingle when it struck bare skin?
She’d never find out, because she wouldn’t flog herself.
Stupid purchase.
Destiny tossed it on the desk, picked up the Throbbing Blue Veiner, and popped in a couple of double-A’s.
With a flick of her thumb, she activated it. Three speeds. Low, medium, and holy crap.
It couldn’t compare to Chance, the way he used his mouth and his fingers, how he swiveled his hips so his cock caught the right spot to ensure that she was with him every second. She glanced at the flogger. Chance had shared her kink. He enjoyed spanking as much as she did. Fate had teased cruelly to dangle the man she loved, the one who could satisfy her every desire, and then yank him away.
Oops! Sorry. Just kidding.
Yep, the universe was a mean bitch.
You’re the one who ran away. But how could she live with a man who believed she was a thief and a liar?
Especially when he was right.
She clutched the vibrating phallus to her chest and swiped a tear. Why had she bothered to buy this stuff? She desired orgasms with Chance, not by herself with a fake dick.
“Replaced me already, huh?” rumbled a familiar voice.
Destiny screamed and flung the dildo like a hot potato. It jittered atop the desk, mocking her reflexive attempt to hide the evidence. Embarrassment rooted her to the spot as the room spun around her.
Chance approached. “You won’t need this.” He deactivated the vibrator, then picked up the flogger and waved it like a pom-pom. “This one? A very good choice.” He grinned devilishly.
Her face flamed. She swayed as the studio rotated.
He tossed the flogger onto the desk; his mirth evaporated. “Destiny.”
The world jerked to a stop.
“Destiny,” he pronounced, louder and stronger, his caressing gaze locked on hers.
Disbelief and hope fought mano a mano in a winner-take-all fracas. “You know?” She forced words past paralyzed lips. “How?”
He flattened a palm against his chest. “My heart tells me so.”
The only thing more incredible than taking possession of another body was that Chance believed it.
“It does?”
He nodded and brushed her bangs off her forehead, his touch a kiss against her skin. “You know what else it tells me?”
She shook her head.
“That I love you, Destiny. That I want to explore what we might have together.” Regret contorted his features. “I’m so sorry for the horrible things I
said to you. I didn’t mean them. I was frustrated. I tried to goad you into admitting the truth because I didn’t have the guts to say it myself. My heart knew what was real, but my head insisted it wasn’t. I was afraid.”
“Oh God,” she moaned. “I was so dumb!” She knew the preciousness of time, and she’d wasted a month of their lives.
Who moved first, she had no idea, but she was in his arms, and he hugged and kissed her like he couldn’t get close enough. Happiness whirled inside, spinning gray into rose, coloring possibilities with the brightest of hues. Like a blind man using his hands to capture a vision, he touched her hair, her face, her breasts, between her legs, her elbows, her fingers, the trough of her spine.
“I ought to spank you for the way you scared me,” he said against her mouth.
“Promises. Promises,” she purred.
He froze, then dove for the posing stage, pulling her with him.
Destiny squealed. “Not here! Somebody could come in!”
“I locked the door. Flipped over the CLOSED sign.” Satisfaction creased his face in a smile.
“You were pretty confident, weren’t you?”
“No, and that’s why I’m going to spank you. You’ve led me on quite a chase.” Chance planted his buns on the stage and patted his lap. “Drop your pants, sweetheart.”
Destiny giggled. She loved this commanding side of Chance. Loved him.
He pointed to the desk. “Grab the flogger.”
She snatched the leather implement and dashed to Chance’s side. After kicking off her shoes, she tugged off her pants and panties and flung herself over his lap. She had dreams to fulfill. “Make it a good one,” she said.
His rumble of laughter flowed like music to her ears. “I believe that’s called topping from the bottom.”
She flashed a sassy grin.
He cracked his palm against her buttock, making it smart.
“Ow…ooh!” A sharp sting morphed into a pleasant tingle when he slapped her again.
“Ow-ooh?” He chuckled.
Her responsive laugh caught in her throat as he continued to rain spanks upon her naked bottom. She wiggled and bucked on his lap, enjoying the bunching of muscles in his thighs, the nudge of his hard cock against her side, the sound of his breathing that grew ragged from exertion and desire. Pain and pleasure merged into one, leaving her gasping and burning. Needing. He hadn’t even touched her clit, her pussy, yet she was close to coming. Her inner thighs grew wet with her moisture, and her core clenched.