Waiting for Fate (Dual Court Kiss Book 3)

by Samantha Britt

  Waiting for Fate

  A Dual Court Kiss Novella

  By Samantha Britt

  Waiting for Fate: A Dual Court Kiss Novella

  Copyright © 2017 by Samantha Britt

  Cover art by AmpersandBookCovers

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance between actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental or used fictitiously.

  ASIN: B01MY66Z9H

  WARNING:

  This story is intended to be read AFTER Will of Fate and Work of Fate, Books 1 and 2 of the Dual Court Kiss series.

  To avoid spoilers, please read those two novels before beginning Waiting for Fate.

  Thank you.

  To D.P.M.,

  “A love story for the ages.”

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Letter from the Author

  Enlightened

  Chapter 1

  The ceremony went smoothly. Not even a blade of grass blew out of place. Gwen truly picked the perfect Colorado day for her wedding.

  As the celebration transitioned smoothly into the reception, every member of the guest list oohed and aahed over the otherworldly decorations the groom’s parents provided the venue.

  Couples twirled alongside each other. The native Texans showed off their two-stepping maneuvers while everyone else did their best to keep pace with the upbeat country song.

  Sara Roberts sat at the bridal party table, watching Kalan lead his new bride along the dance floor. She could not remember seeing Gwen look so happy. Her childhood friend’s joy filled the large ballroom.

  “Is this seat taken?” A painfully recognizable voice asked from her right. The voice belonged to a man Sara couldn’t seem to forget, no matter how hard she tried.

  The young woman looked up into eyes which had been haunting her for the past four years.

  “Of course. I mean, of course not.” Sara mentally chastised herself as she unnecessarily moved her seat away from the one in question. She always thought she sound like a fool around this man.

  Ronan expressed his thanks and sat in the chair beside hers. Sara tried not to notice as his pant leg brushed against the top of her sandaled foot.

  Ronan was the groom’s closest friend. He and Sara met four years ago, the same night Gwen met Kalan.

  Sara and her sister, Kate, had insisted on taking Gwen out in downtown San Antonio. The girls wanted to celebrate their best friend finishing her first year of medical school, as well as the termination of her unhealthy college relationship.

  While the trio enjoyed drinks at a popular piano bar, Kalan entered Gwen’s life. They didn’t know it at the time, but the young man had no intention of ever leaving her life. It was in the middle of the start to the newlywed’s romance when Sara encountered Ronan.

  That was the day the attractive man began starring in Sara’s dreams.

  It wasn’t an exaggeration. Sara could not begin to count the number of mornings she woke with Ronan’s image fading from her eyelids. She would greet the day with her heart racing and her stomach fluttering. No matter how hard she tried, Sara could never remember details from the cursed dreams. She only remembered his face.

  To be honest, there was not a reasonable explanation as to why Ronan was a frequent visitor in Sara’s dreams. The most the two interacted was when Ronan offered to help Sara with various chores following her uncle’s accident.

  Sara remembered being trapped at the apartment complex during one of the destructive storms that hit the San Antonio region a few summers back. By some twist of fate, Ronan was with her, and the pair waited out the storm together.

  That day was the most they ever talked, and it was surprisingly easy. Sara was not known as the most social person. That characteristic was claimed by her younger sister.

  However, with Ronan, Sara found herself at ease. In fact, she was barely nervous beyond their initial greeting that day.

  “Why aren’t you dancing?” Ronan asked, interrupting Sara’s memories.

  “What?”

  He smirked. Sara followed his arm as he gestured toward the center of the room.

  Gwen moved across the floor, leading the guests in a well-known line dance. Sara and Ronan both chuckled as they witnessed Kalan’s awkward attempts to follow along with the quick steps. The groom was usually graceful beyond belief, making his current state very entertaining.

  Sara nearly laughed herself into a choking fit when Kalan spun the opposite direction as the rest of the room and collided with Gwen. The couple fell into a giddy pile on the floor.

  Concerned silence descended on the guests, but it was short-lived.

  Gwen rewarded her new husband with a long kiss before helping him from the floor.

  The room erupted into hoots and cheers. Sara’s heart swelled for her friend. She did not believe she knew a couple more in love. The newlyweds were unable to take their eyes off one another.

  The brunette continued to scan the dancers as they returned to the interrupted activity.

  “So… not a dancer?” Ronan asked with amusement, bringing Sara back to his original question.

  She felt herself blush. “Um… no. Not really.”

  “You never dance?”

  “No. I dance. I’m just not a dancer.” Sara shrugged, feeling her social ineptitude coming back with a vengeance. Ronan obviously wasn’t implying she was a professional dancer. Get it together, Sara.

  “You look very beautiful in your dress.”

  “Oh,” Sara blinked and looked down at her gown. She ran her hands over the smooth material. “Thank you.”

  After a pause, she glanced at Ronan’s tuxedo. “You look nice, too.”

  Ronan smiled, showing an endearing dimple on his left cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Sara!” Kate shouted across the room. “Get over here!” Her younger sister stood in a crowd of young women, all gathering in front of the stage Gwen ascended.

  Sara’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening. “Oh no,” she muttered, eyeing her increasingly impatient younger sister.

  “What is it?” Sara turned and met Ronan’s concerned gaze. “Is something wrong?”

  She managed a weak smile, trying to alleviate his worry. “Gwen is about to throw the bouquet.”

  Ronan’s concern didn’t lesson. If anything, confusion crept into his expression.

  “You know,” Sara felt compelled to explain. “It’s a wedding tradition. All unmarried women try to catch the bride’s bouquet.”

  Ronan’s eyes drew together. “To what purpose?”

  “Allegedly,” Sara put condescending emphasis on the word, “whomever catches the bouquet will be the next to get married.”

  “I see,” Ronan examined the scene of women gathering. Sara took the opportunity to admire his chiseled profile. “Most seem eager to catch the flowers.”

  Sara nodded. “Yup.”

  “But not you?”

  Sara didn’t hesitate. “No. Not at all.”

  “Not eager to get married?”

  “It’s not that,” Sara clarified, taking a moment to form her explanation. “I just... don’t feel like making a fool of myself. Not over catching flowe
rs, anyway.”

  “Sara!”

  Ronan chuckled as Sara cringed at her sister’s elevated shout. “I think someone is going to insist you join in the tradition.”

  The younger sister shouted her name again.

  “She’s relentless,” Sara provided, refusing to make eye contact with the pushy young woman.

  “Apparently. Don’t look now, but she’s walking over.”

  “Oh no, really?”

  Ronan opened his mouth to reply, but Kate’s voice interrupted him.

  “Sara! What are you doing sitting down? Gwen is about to throw the bouquet!”

  Sara donned a well-practiced smile before turning to face her sister. “Hi, Kate. You remember Ronan?”

  Kate managed to give Ronan a polite greeting before returning her attention to Sara. “Come on. We are going to miss it.”

  “You go ahead,” Sara offered. She could practically see Kate’s temper flare. “I’m going to hang back here and catch up with Ronan.” She hoped her sister would not cause a scene in front of the relative stranger.

  “Yes,” Ronan spoke up. “We were just discussing our dinner plans.”

  “Dinner plans?” Kate and Sara questioned simultaneously.

  Kate’s expression transformed from annoyance to intrigue as she glanced between the two.

  Sara’s expression, utterly perplexed, locked onto Ronan.

  Where was this casual behavior coming from?

  Sara couldn’t deny she would be more than happy to have dinner with Ronan, but his method seemed unusual. Then again… maybe it wasn’t.

  Hadn’t the two shared a connection the day of the storm?

  Sara thought so.

  Then again, nearly four years passed between then and now. The two did not share so much as a word during that time. In fact, Sara could only recall seeing Ronan once over the span of four years, and it was from a distance.

  Kate was brave enough to ask Gwen and Kalan about Ronan’s absence once, thinking she was doing her sister a service.

  Gwen’s now husband merely stated Ronan’s job kept him busy. What that job was? Sara had no clue.

  “Yes,” Ronan’s voice brought Sara out of her head. “I was thinking we could grab dinner after the reception.”

  Sara cocked her head to the side. “But… we just ate dinner.” Gwen and Kalan went all out for their guests and provided a gourmet meal which left most of those in attendance stuffed. Sara made sure to consume every possible bite of the delicious food.

  Sara’s breath was stolen as she watched a charming red rise to Ronan’s cheeks. For a moment, his expression conveyed embarrassment before being swiftly replaced by his normal, confident demeanor.

  “Of course,” he allowed, giving both sisters a rueful grin. “Just call me eager, I suppose.”

  What does that mean? Sara questioned, examining Ronan. Eager to eat dinner? Or eager to spend more time with me?

  “I’m sure Sara would be more than happy to have dinner with you sometime,” Kate provided in wake of Sara’s silence. “But right now, she is needed by the stage.”

  The younger sister grabbed Sara’s upper arm and forcibly helped her up. Sara nearly tripped over the long table cloth from the sudden movement. Ronan’s hand shot out to steady her.

  “Thanks,” she offered quietly once her feet were firmly planted on the ground. Her mind still contemplated the meaning behind Ronan’s words, wondering if she read too much into them.

  “Of course,” Ronan replied, removing his warm hand from her satin-covered waist. “Have fun.”

  Kate wasted no time in whisking Sara away from the table.

  The sisters were about halfway to the stage when Sara felt the urge to look back. She turned over her right shoulder, hoping for one more glance from the man who occupied her mind more than she cared to admit.

  Her floating heart fell back to its place in reality. The bridal table stood unoccupied. There were no lingering looks for her to fall into.

  Sara shook her head and forced herself to not search the room for Ronan. Whatever just transpired, Sara assumed nothing more would come of it.

  A man like Ronan wouldn’t be interested in someone as ordinary as Sara. Why did she taunt herself with unrealistic hopes for a happy ending?

  This wasn’t one of her dreams, after all.

  Chapter 2

  3 Months Later

  “Uncle Frank?” Sara called from the doorway, trying to jiggle the keys from the rusted lock. Another item added to Sara’s to-do list: change the blasted locks.

  “Back here.” Uncle Frank’s voice carried from the back of the apartment. Sara finally freed the keys, shut the door, and made her way back towards the bedrooms. Uncle Frank sat at the small oak desk in his room, looking at a spreadsheet on his laptop.

  “Whatcha doing?” Sara asked, sitting behind him on the edge of his bed. She peered over his shoulder at the small font displayed in boxes across his screen.

  “Looking at revenue for this month based on units we have rented out.” The older man gave a tired sigh. “We still have quite a few empty and in need of repair.”

  This wasn’t news to Sara. Ever since her uncle’s accident a few summers back, she took over quite a bit of the responsibilities associated with running the apartment complex. That included the finances.

  Although physical therapy enabled her uncle almost full restoration of movement and activity, something changed after the accident.

  Where Uncle Frank was once a vibrant and energetic older man, the accident seemed to take all that out of him. He grew tired more easily; his enthusiasm for work drained earlier and earlier in the day.

  As a result, Sara never handed back all the responsibilities she took on after the accident. She wasn’t sure how she did it, but somehow Sara figured out a way to balance both her teaching position and almost full-time responsibilities at the apartment complex.

  “I’ll call the maintenance company and see if they can give me an updated timeline,” she told him, hoping to lessen his burden.

  Uncle Frank leaned heavily against his chair. “I already did.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “They said all units should be repaired in 6 weeks.”

  “What?!” Sara’s temper flared. “They said the same thing a month ago!”

  “I know.” Uncle Frank leaned forward to close his laptop. “They are behind schedule.”

  “Apparently.” Sara followed her uncle as he moved into their living room. “But we’ve already paid them more than half of the contracted fee, Uncle Frank. They took our money and haven’t even finished a quarter of the work!”

  “I know.”

  “Is that all you can say? ‘I know’.” Sara bit her lip, immediately regretting the harsh tone. One of the most redeeming qualities of her uncle was his extremely patient nature. Despite the trait’s value, it proved less than helpful in the situation they were in.

  Sara took a calming breath. “We need to do something. Call the maintenance company and file a formal complaint. We can’t afford to pay for work that isn’t being done.”

  “You’re right,” Uncle Frank modified his bland reply.

  “Let me call them,” Sara offered, itching to have a go at the sluggish company. “I’m sure I can work something out.”

  Her uncle gave an approving smirk. “I’m sure you could. You are relentless.” He feigned apprehension.

  Sara laughed. Only those closest to her would know she had a commanding side. Out in the world, Sara was as passive and calm as they come.

  “Alas,” Uncle Frank clapped his hands together with a wide grin, “I’m afraid we might not have need of your fiery managerial skills any longer.”

  He continued to grin but did not elaborate.

  “Alright,” Sara chuckled. “I’ll take the bait. Why might you no longer need my unique set of skills?”

  “Because I’ve decided to hire an apartment manager for the complex.”

  Sara’s eyebrows nearly rose to her hairline.
“We have an apartment manager.”

  “You’re a teacher, Sara.”

  “I meant you,” she corrected.

  “We need an official apartment manager.”

  “Uncle Frank,” Sara’s gaze was earnest. “We can’t afford to pay someone. It’s okay. Between you and me, we can manage the apartment complex. We don’t need anyone else.”

  “Yes, we do.” He met her eyes. “And once the units are leased, we will have enough money. Until then–” he held up his hand to stop his niece’s impending interruption. Sara closed her mouth, allowing him to continue.

  “Until then, the new manager’s income will be paid by a few of my investments over the years. It will be more than enough to cover the difference.”

  “Do you mean your retirement investments?” Sara knew her uncle just celebrated his 60th birthday. She also knew fifty-nine was the minimum age to remove funds from retirement accounts with no penalty.

  Thin lipped, her uncle nodded. “Yes.”

  “Uncle Frank,” Sara gave a disapproving frown. “That money is for your future.”

  “This apartment complex is my retirement safety net,” he countered. “I never planned on running day to day operations for the rest of my life. I always anticipated hiring outside help, even before my accident.”

  The information wasn’t surprising, but things had changed. Her uncle’s plan didn’t include the major natural disasters which caused external damage to the complex. Nor did it include the months of falling behind on repairs once Sara had to take over running the apartment’s business. Tenant after tenant came forward with complaints regarding their apartment, and some chose to leave rather than wait for repairs.

  Sara could still remember the relief she experienced once Uncle Frank finally came out of the coma, and a huge burden lifted when he was well enough to come home. Slowly, he started picking up work again. Unfortunately, it would never be the same.

  Sara looked at her uncle. She really looked at him.

  More gray mixed into his chestnut brown hair than just last year. His cheeks looked shallow. More obvious than everything else, Uncle Frank’s eyes were tired. He looked so tired.