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Fate's Redemption

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by Brandace Morrow




  Fate’s Redemption

  Fate’s Redeption © Copyright 2014 by Brandace Morrow

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, printed, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express permission of the author. Please do not participate or encourage piracy in any capacity of copyrighted material in violation of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events, occurrences, places, or business establishments is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Smashwords edition

  Dedication:

  For my fans.

  Thanks for wanting more!

  Chapter 1

  “Oh, none for me, thank you,” Ali says, waving off the waiter. The young man turns to me and I just start to open my mouth when I feel an arm go to the back of my chair.

  “She can’t have any either. We’ll take bottled water. Thanks, dude,” rumbles in my ear. I turn my head slowly to look at my husband.

  “What. Are you doing?”

  His handsome face is a study of innocence. “What, babe?”

  “I wanted a long island. This is the first time we’ve had a night out in a long time.”

  Danny’s hand moves to my arm and begins stroking. “I just don’t think you should be drinking is all. We can still have an awesome time.”

  I lean away from him to look at his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Deklan leans over the table, all rocker spiked hair and leather jacket creaking. “Is there something you guys want to tell us? You know the reason Ali can’t drink.”

  I glance over at Danny and see him give Deklan an eyeball widening, subtle nodded look. That’s it.

  “Daniel Walsh! What are you doing? I’m not pregnant,” I yell in exasperation.

  He tucks his chin to look down at me, his light blue eyes slightly hurt. “You don’t know that. “

  I look around the expensive restaurant, but people aren’t paying attention to us, anymore than they are the other celebrities eating their dinner.

  “I do know that. I started this morning.” Ugh. Yes, I just said that in front of rock God Deklan Thomas and his ultra-cool wife, Ali.

  Danny looks down as he rolls his lips in to bite them, before pasting a smile on his face and looking to Deklan. “Next month then, right? Trying’s the fun part.” He gives a weak laugh and my heart sinks. Not this again.

  ~

  “I had no idea you were trying. Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali asks me as we wash our hands in the restroom after dessert.

  “Because we aren’t. I’m still on birth control and he knows it. He’s been on this baby thing lately.” I shake my head and check my reflection since we’re about to walk into a paparazzi storm.

  Ali takes lipstick out of her purse. “I’m sure our news didn’t help you at all. “

  I wave off the thought. “He was on it before you told us you were pregnant. It’s like his biological clock has started counting down, instead of mine.”

  “So you aren’t ready? You already have one baby.”

  “He’s three. We’re still doing potty training. I do want more kids, but with work and everything, now just isn’t the time.” I shoot my balled up paper towel into the trashcan.

  “I hear ya, girl. Maybe one day I’ll actually get to plan a pregnancy. Apparently, Dek has super sperm that can huff and puff and blow those eggs out of their house. “

  Giggling, I ask, “Aren’t you on the same pills as me?”

  Ali closes her purse with a snap and starts walking towards the door. “Yeah, well. Who can remember to take a pill every freaking day? They should make it once a month or something, like the dog’s heartworm pill.”

  “It’s a good thing you aren’t schizophrenic.”

  When we get back to the table we see Deklan watching Danny with a fascinated look on his face. Danny has his fist in the air and is saying something through gritted teeth. My horror mounts when I hear his words.

  “I really feel like I got in there last night, dude. I was like, locked in that shit.”

  “What shit?” I ask in dread.

  Danny’s face shows his knowledge of how bad he’s fucked up, while Deklan turns to us with wide eyes and a smile. “Danny was just telling me how he planted his seed last night, Kinley.”

  “Seed?” Ali asks as she sits down.

  “In the garden of Kinley’s womb,” Deklan says helpfully.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask Danny.

  Ali turns fully to her husband. “Did you come up with that on the fly?”

  “Nothing, darlin’. I was just talking guy stuff.” Danny tries to brush the incident under the rug.

  “Just came to me,” Deklan unwraps a peppermint with a grin, “give me a second. I might have more.”

  I turn to Deklan. “This isn’t funny.”

  “It’s fuckin’ hilarious.”

  Chapter 2

  I slam my bag down on the entry table as soon as we enter our hotel room.

  “Babe. Come on.”

  “I don’t know why you think that talking about how you banged your wife is okay! What if someone with a recorder or cell phone at the very least, got you on tape giving that little chest thumping display?” I ask as I take off my heels.

  “Did you just compare me to an ape? Oh, you meant a gorilla huh?” Danny breaks out into an amazing rendition of Bruno Mars’ Gorilla as he follows me into the bedroom humping the air.

  I throw my hands up. “Jesus Christ!”

  “It’s Danny, actually. But I’ll let you get away with it if you bend over this dresser right here.” He pats the top of the dresser softly, pursing his lips as his eyes move from the floor to the mirror, finally landing on me.

  I study him solemnly for a minute before asking quietly, “Why do you keep doing this?”

  Danny looks down and begins to take off his watch, avoiding my eyes. “Doing what?”

  “You know what. You’re obsessed with having another baby, convinced that it’s happening when I’m on the pill to make sure it’s not. Why are you so desperate all of a sudden?”

  He sighs and walks over to me, putting his big hands on my hips and touching his forehead to mine. “I missed everything with Ollie. He’s growing up and not a baby anymore. I just want to experience everything from the beginning. With you. Why are you so against it?”

  Now it’s my turn to sigh. I give him the best answer I can. “We are so busy. I feel like we barely see each other, much less Ollie. Our careers are booming right now. When we have a baby, I want us to be completely committed to our family and not dividing our time.”

  “No one, and I’ll just emphasis the no one in that sentence, is more committed to their family than I am. If you want me to stop singing just say the word. I’ll call Matt tomorrow.”

  I push against him softly. “Knock it off.”

  “No, I’m totally down with you being my sugar momma. I’d be mister mom and finally get my dad off of my back about being a part time rancher.”

  “You love what you do, and you’re good at it. I would never ask you to quit. I want a baby with you, so much. There’s just something holding me back. I can’t explain it.” I watch his eyes shade with disappointment and bring my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, babe. Our family will grow when it’s meant to. We’ll both know. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby,” Danny says into my mouth before he seals our lips together, twirling his tongue deliciously with mine. “I tr
ust you,” he says, breaking the kiss, making a trail of licks and nibbles to my ear. “Doesn’t mean we can’t practice, right? What’s that saying?”

  My breath hitches in my chest. “Practice makes perfect.” Danny slowly moves the cardigan off of my shoulders. When I feel his mouth open and lave at my bare skin, I moan.

  “That’s right. Perfect,” he says against my skin. I feel Danny’s hands tugging my shirt up, his calloused hands sensitizing my skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I back up, pulling him with me and let myself fall to the bed. Danny uses the momentum of the supple mattress and captures my mouth on a bounce. Things become more demanding with that kiss. The air goes from sultry to heated as we eliminate clothes and finally feel skin to skin.

  It’s taken a long time, but my patient, wonderful husband has never pressured me to be the man on top. After my first husband, may he burn, was through with me I was more traumatized than any woman should be. The first time Danny hovered over me no matter how much I loved his kiss, I slapped his face in an involuntary reaction to the position. But that was years ago, and in these moments when his big frame shadows out the light and all I can see is his muscles bulging, his lust filled eyes trailing my body, I revel. There is no ghost to come between us.

  When he fills me with a smooth glide of his hips I gasp and rake my nails down his back. Danny throws his head back and groans through clenched teeth, thrusting again with a strength that rocks me toward the headboard. He gives me his everything and I lift my hips to give it back. I score his back and grip his ass to bring him back to me. He grinds against my sex, shooting sparks all the way to my hairline. I pull his head down and he gives me his lips, his tongue matching the thrusts as he powers into me. I groan, prompting him to move a hand that’s bracketing my head to grip my ass. He effortlessly lifts me. I help by wrapping my legs around his back and we’re entwined. We are one in a way that I’ve never known before him.

  Danny knows my cues. When I’m close he pulls away to watch as I shatter, and I know he’s reveling too. He never stops, extending my orgasm in all of it’s earth shaking momentum until my inner muscles twitch with aftershocks around him. Then and only then does he bury his head in my neck and says only one word as he finds bliss.

  “Perfect.”

  ~

  “Get one of our contacts out to San Diego and stand by for the call.” I throw my headset onto the desk and sigh. After running hands through my hair, reminding me that I put it up what feels like a million years ago, I fall against my seat. I have people to do this for me now, I know that. Running a nonprofit for domestic abuse has never been a lighthearted endeavor. It’s been long hours, almost no pay – by my choice— and always stressful. But the end result is what keeps me going.

  My eyes move to the wall of post cards and letters that I’ve set up in my office. My hurt and experience put me in a position, granted along with my husband’s fame into a place where I help woman, and yes men, get out of relationships that are not healthy, hurtful and damaging to not only the body, but the mind. I feel passionately about what I do and make sure that it’s done right and to the best of my ability each and every time.

  My intercom buzzes, so I accept the call.

  “Kinley, you have two handsome gentlemen here that want to abscond with you for an hour or so. It’s lunch time, by the way.”

  I glance at the clock even as my hand goes to the button that will unlock my doors. It’s a sad fact that it’s a necessity, even though the building doesn’t let anyone in without ID. One of the draw backs of having a famous husband is that groupies try to get a shot into the office on made up stories and irate husbands have been known to frequent our offices once their wives go missing.

  The doorknob twists as I’m rising from my chair. “Well, hello boys.”

  “There she is. I told you she was prettier than breakfast.”

  I laugh as Ollie launches from his dad’s arms and runs to me with a loud “Mama” that I’m sure echoed down the halls. I laugh and swing his not so light weight into my arms.

  “Hi, Bubba.” His sweet little arms wrap around my neck and squeezes tight. I love this. I love being the Mama more than I love anything in the world. I kiss his sandy blonde hair and take in the smell of baby powder and play do.

  “Did I forget lunch?” I ask, settling Ollie on my hip.

  “Again? Yes, but have no fear. We are here,” Danny says, giving me a kiss.

  “Well, let’s go.” I put my purse on my shoulder and set the big boy down. He immediately grabs my finger and tells me in broken baby speak all about his day. I gather he’s been to see the horse and cows, seen his favorite people and what they said he could do when they got home on the way to the small diner a block away.

  My responses are all “oh yeahs?” and “no way!” as I take in how much he has grown, if even overnight. We order coffee with our lunch, grabbing a table that’s luckily come available at rush hour.

  “I’m thinking of getting him a horse for C-H-R-I-S-M-R-A-S-T.”

  I blink and try to put the words together, before bursting out laugh at his spelling. He’s always making up letters since Ollie started understand what each word actually meant.

  Danny shrugs innocently with a smile. “What?”

  I shake my head, still laughing. “Nothing.” We get him situated in his booster. “Do you think he’s old enough? What about a mini?” We have many horses on our ranch at Los Rancheros, but I’m still terrified to let him that far off of the ground.

  “Only the best for him. I wouldn’t let him on anything that wasn’t 100%, you know that.”

  I nod my head, my eyes moving around the room absently. My eyes snag on a young girl with chocolate skin just as she shrugs off the hand of a much older man. It’s not so much the action as it is her eyes and the way tightening of the man’s stance as he puts the hand back, tightening his hand so much that her shirt wrinkles, before sliding it down her back, almost to her butt.

  I study the girl’s reaction as I put Ollie’s orange juice in front of him and hold the straw so that he doesn’t spill it everywhere. She seems to arch her back away from him My eyes fly to the man, just as his face tightens in displeasure.

  “I’m going to grab some sugar,” I say softly, interrupting Ollie and Danny in their retelling of the steer that got away.

  “I’m . . . okay. You do realize you didn’t order coffee right?” I hear vaguely, but wave it away. Heading toward the small counter, conveniently situated by the check out counter.

  I fumble with my cup of tea and strain my ears.

  “Please stop.”

  “Stop what, baby? You know you like it.”

  I acutely feel the blood drain from my head and grab the counter so that I don’t fall to my knees. The girl grabs her cup and heads toward me. I almost pass out when I see her round stomach, the worn t-shirt barely covering the girl of her obviously pregnant belly. I scoot over to let her set her hot drink beside me.

  “Hi,” I hear myself say through a strangled throat and numb lips.

  The girl smiles absently as she reached for the cream. My eyes dart to the man, seeing him swiping his card and assessing the distance she just put between them.

  “This may sound weird,” I mumble, breaking open sugar packets and reaching for a stirrer, trying not to move my lips. “But if you aren’t with him, if he’s hurting you, go to the bathroom and I’ll meet you there.” I take off before my mouth can cause more attention than it has. A ventriloquist, I am not.

  As I sit down in my seat again, Danny grabs my shaking hand. “Baby? You okay?” I look into his earnest, concerned face and nod, swallow and nod again.

  “Danny, look at the girl by the condiments.” His eyes study mine, flickering back and forth, reading me, before he puts his head down and cuts his eyes to the –now couple—at the counter. I force my gaze away from them and watch his face read the subtle touches and the way her body shies away from him. When they turn toward us to find a seat I see the i
nstant his face hardens.

  “She’s a baby—,” he mumbles under his breath.

  “About to have one,” I finish his thought.

  Danny looks back to me, his attention riveted. “Did you talk to her?”

  I nod, bringing a napkin into Ollie’s lap as a waiter brings our food. Once he’s gone, I say, “I told her to go to the bathroom if he was hurting her.”

  Danny cuts up chicken tenders for the baby, then settles with his own food. “I didn’t see any bruises.”

  I glance up from my own food to see he’s sharing the same thought as mine. There doesn’t have to be any to know when someone is being hurt. We’re quiet, all of us digging into our lunch. I’m sure Danny and I are going through the motions, but Ollie is quiet as he eats his favorite dish. Only because no one is talking, do we hear the conversation a few tables over.

  “I need to go to the bathroom, Daddy.”

  “You went before you came. Sit down.”

  “My bladder . . . the baby. I can’t wait.”

  “Fine, but hurry up.”

  I stare hard at my husband, watching out of the corner of my eye as the girl waddles to the back of the restaurant. His jaw slows as he chews and swallows. Finally I see those hazel eyes meet mine. “Go,” he says quietly.

  I force myself to wipe my mouth with a napkin and kiss Ollie’s head. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back, baby,” I say as lightly as I can.

  I don’t look at the older man sitting a few tables away when I pass. I lock eyes with the exit sign just past the bathrooms and don’t move my gaze until I’m in the hallway.

  When I open the door, the girl is hyperventilating and holding her stomach. I rush to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh my God. I don’t know what I’m doing?” she wails.

  “Shh,” I hush her quietly, checking stalls and then the door. “Is it the baby? How far along are you?”

  The girl shakes her head. “No, not the baby.” She starts sobbing quietly, and I pull her to me. My heart is beating out of my chest.

 

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