Take a Chance on It
By K.A. Mitchell
Sequel to Risk Everything on It
Ready or Knot: Book Three
Left at the altar by his long-time lover, Spencer, and in desperate need of quality health insurance, Dane Archer can’t say no when his best man and best friend, Gideon DeLuca, steps in. But Dane and Gideon have history, tangled and passionate and complicated.
After seventeen years of cat and mouse, Gideon has realized Dane isn’t the kind of man who ever wants to be caught, and he’s stopped playing Dane’s game.
For Dane, it’s never been a game, but sexual fidelity isn’t his strong suit. Love is too beautiful for limits, something he’s never been able to get Gideon the control freak to understand. Now Dane has nothing but limits, including the timeline on his paper-only marriage to Gideon.
Gideon’s the only person Dane trusts enough to lean on, and Gideon will do anything to get Dane through this crisis. Anything but fall for Dane again.
Living together forces Dane and Gideon to stop circling and face what’s been between them all these years. They just don’t know if they have the power or the time to make things right.
What they do know is that they’re not ready for it to be over.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
More from K.A. Mitchell
About the Author
By K.A. Mitchell
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright Page
For Erin
Thank you for being and for reminding me “People with cancer need love stories too.”
Love to the other survivors in my life: Mom, Jan, Laura, Sarah, and Lisa.
Love to all the survivors and those who support them through it.
Chapter 1
Dane Sullivan Archer
and
Spencer Partridge Hawthorne
request the pleasure of
your company
at
the legal celebration of
their partnership
September 23
The Nautilus Beach Club
Westhampton, NY
Reception to follow
(Yes, this means we’re getting married.)
(No, we’re not kidding.)
DANE DROPPED the last invitation in the envelope going to his bio dad and girlfriend, added the response card and envelope, and then sealed it. The ecofriendly, socially responsible printer had done good work.
Despite the heavy-weight, high-end stationery, the paper was recycled. Even better, the invitations had seeds pressed into the back so that once the invitation had served its purpose, it could be put into dirt, watered, and turned into wildflowers.
Not just good for the earth, but romantic as fuck.
The invitations were hand addressed with a fountain pen and vegetable-based ink. Proper etiquette to the letter. Even Spencer’s fastidious oldest sister would approve. She at least would show up. Dane’s bio dad would dutifully plant the invitation, but he could already picture the response card.
Mr. Lance Burch and Ms. Simone Perry will NOT attend. Underneath, Lance’s block print would say Thought I raised you better than to give in to this nonsense.
His biological father would only be half kidding. But he would be 100 percent right.
Spencer came into the dining room and rested his arms on the back of Dane’s chair. “Saved Lance for last?”
“Yup.” Dane put the sealed, stamped envelope in the box and leaned into—well, he supposed he could call Spencer his fiancé now, though labels had never felt right for them. Unlike their friend Theo, who had been married for five months and usually managed to work the words “my husband” into conversation every five minutes.
Dane took a deep breath. Spencer was fresh from his shower, no aftershave, a hint of his body wash and the lotion he used on his skin. He’d dressed, but the edges of his hair were still wet against Dane’s cheek as he bent down to look in the box filled with their wedding invitations.
A week ago, Dane would have been in there with him as soon as Spencer’s clothes hit the floor. Now he’d burned through most of today’s energy stuffing the envelopes. He’d had to break the task of addressing the invitations into two days like a fucking ninety-year-old.
Dane pushed the box holding all the invitations across the reclaimed wooden surface. “Don’t drip. You’ll start things growing.”
“Is that a promise?” Spencer massaged Dane’s shoulders with careful fingers.
Dane’s gaze dropped to his lap. “Ha. I wish. No, I meant the wildflowers.”
Spencer squeezed gently, then lifted his hands away.
I didn’t mean stop.
Dane bit back the whine. Spencer was trying. They were both trying. But everything, every request, every offer, they all came with too much weight attached, tangled up with emotions that wouldn’t have been there before. Before it.
The irony of avoiding the specific word wasn’t lost on Dane. He was always telling his friends to be open, direct, communicate. Pathetic. He couldn’t even name the condition in his own head.
Scooping up the box, Spencer balanced it on his palm like a waiter. “I’ve got to go in for a meeting about next week. Do you want me to drop these off on the way?”
Perfect example. Offering to run an errand wasn’t anything Spencer wouldn’t have done a month ago, but at that moment it made Dane feel like he had one foot in the—“No. I want to.” He heard the petulance in his tone and added with a smile, “It’s just the post office. Not Machu Picchu.”
Spencer slid the box back onto the table and brushed away Dane’s hair to kiss his forehead. “Good. Get out of the house and blow the stink off you.”
“Excuse me? I showered.” It had been yesterday, after his appointment, but he’d showered before the exhaustion and nausea kicked in.
“It’s something my grandmother always said when the girls had been shut up in the house too long.”
She would never have had to say it to Spencer, though. No matter the weather, Spencer would always prefer to be outside. Like Dane.
Dane caught Spencer’s wrist and used it to pull him down for a better kiss. The effort was worth it. For a second Dane lost himself in that familiar sensation. The taste of Spencer’s mouth, the rhythm of their tongues. Spencer ended the kiss with a soft tug on Dane’s bottom lip.
“I’ll only be gone on assignment for a week.” Spencer reached for one of Dane’s curls and then pulled his hand back as if in fear that touch would start them falling out. “And it’s only Mississippi.”
“I know. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll call one of the boys to go with you to your appointment?”
“Absolutely, just not—”
“Not Jax. Right.”
“Um… I haven’t told Theo yet either.”
Spencer didn’t have to say a word; his pointed look was enough. After ten years, Dane knew what his fiancé—what Spencer—thought about almost everything with just a glance at his blue-green eyes.
“I will,” Dane promised. “This week. I’ll have Theo take me.”
Spencer ticked a fing
er across the top of the envelopes in the box like a Monte Carlo dealer fanning the cards. “Don’t you wish we could have found a way to fit these with cameras? I’d have paid a hell of a lot to see their faces when they open them.”
“My imagination is working overtime on that.” Considering the need to nap sinking into him, it was the most active fucking part of Dane’s life.
THREE DAYS later the United States Post Office had carried out its appointed rounds, and Dane’s phone lit up. Theo first. Video call. He wasn’t messing around. Dane pushed himself up to a sitting position to take the call. The nurses promised him he’d have more energy as he got used to the treatment. He thought they were full of shit.
“Hi, Theo. What’s up?”
Theo stared back from the phone’s screen, then held up the invitation. When his face was back on screen, he rolled his eyes. “Kieran wants to know if one of you is pregnant.”
Dane saw Kieran hovering in the background. “Nope. Hi, Kieran.”
Kieran leaned over Theo’s shoulder. “Hi, Dane.”
Without the stress and insanity of Theo rushing Kieran to the altar and micromanaging every inch of the trip there, Dane had come to appreciate Kieran’s quiet humor and the solid anchor he provided for Theo. Theo had done more creating than he had in ten years. He’d even been known to not insist on being at the theater every night to oversee his latest production. Dane would swear Theo had reverse aged since March, fewer frown lines. Marriage looked good on him at least.
Theo had the phone far enough away that Dane could see Kieran’s hand resting on Theo’s shoulder.
Theo placed his hand over Kieran’s and squeezed it before saying, “All right. What the hell, Dane?”
For exactly that, Theo. That guarantee of companionship I never thought I was going to need. Never believed I wanted.
“It’s all there in the invitation.”
Kieran brushed a kiss on Theo’s cheek and whispered in his ear. Only the last few words were audible. “…if you need me.” Kieran moved out of frame.
Another point in Kieran’s favor. Like Spencer, Kieran not only accepted the tight bonds between the conjoined quadruplets of Dane-Theo-Jax-Gideon, he wasn’t threatened by them either.
“I will refrain from spewing all your political opinions about marriage back in your face and just ask why.” Theo’s features were tight with anger.
Dane knew Theo gave fuck all about Dane’s hypocritical reversal. The anger was for Gideon.
“One, Gideon already knows.”
Theo took that with a blink.
“Two, I want to explain everything, but not over the phone.”
Theo’s expression softened, the brown eyes warm and open. “You didn’t ambush him with it?”
Dane shook his head.
Theo’s shoulders relaxed.
“Spencer’s going out of town on Monday. Can you come out sometime then?” Dane hated the wistful note in his voice, knew Theo would pick up on it.
“Why don’t you come into the city? I’ll take us out to lunch.” Theo’s smile meant he only thought Dane was fighting boredom and loneliness.
Dane might be able to drag ass to the post office, but taking a train into Manhattan right now made Machu Picchu look like a stroll on the beach. “I need you to come out here.”
Theo’s smile vanished, and his face filled the screen as he leaned closer. “Dane?”
Dane let out a long breath. “Bring Kieran.”
“Jesus.”
After watching Theo’s imaginative brain zip through all the dire possibilities, Dane said, “Do me a favor.”
“Of course, anything.”
“Don’t call Gideon and pump him for information. You know none of us can resist your puppy eyes.”
Theo’s smile was rueful. “Okay. I promise.” Then his gaze turned shrewd, reminiscent of Kieran’s directness. “But we’re coming over tonight. The hell with waiting until Monday.”
DANE LEFT the phone on his stomach while he waited for Jax to call.
Ten minutes after he hung up with Theo, the old sitcom theme song he had for Jax’s ringtone blared.
Dane psyched himself into a smile, but Jax was only voice calling.
“Hi, Jax.”
“Jeez, Dane. Warn a guy. I almost had a fu—freaking heart attack when I opened the mail.”
In the background, a little girl’s voice sang out, “Daddy, Jax said a bad word.”
The smile on Dane’s lips now wasn’t forced. He never thought he’d liv—he’d see playboy, closeted Jax in a relationship with anyone, let alone playing stepmom to two little girls. Ten months ago, Jax couldn’t even find the right end to diaper on a doll.
“Watch your language there, father figure.” Dane adopted a stern tone.
“Ha-fuck-damn it-freaking-ha.”
Dane lost himself in a belly laugh. “When are you going to make an honest man of your unwed father there?”
“Funny you should mention that, considering what provoked my phone call.”
“Oh?” Dane affected innocence as two child voices argued over the severity of various f-words.
“You know what the he—ck I mean. God, who knew the hardest part of having kids was watching your language.”
One of the kids screeched, “Jax. Not hard. I’m not hard.”
“Hang on.”
Sobs reached Dane’s ear. Then Jax murmuring, “No, honey. You’re not hard. I’m a slow learner. I’m sorry. Jax is just a big stupid.”
“No name-calling,” the child piped up.
Jax losing his mom to breast cancer when he was seventeen was only one of the reasons why Dane wasn’t ready to tell Jax what had motivated the wedding. Dane knew he was insulating himself from Jax’s dramatic fallout as much as protecting Jax from having to deal with the information before he had to.
But the fact that Jax already had a plateful was the one Dane would go with right then. Since Jax had started living in Queens, most of their phone calls went like this interruption-filled farce.
“Okay, now.” A much deeper voice filtered through the phone. Oz. The guy who had not only gotten Jax to publicly come out, but had turned perpetual-child Jax into a co-parent. “Jax is on the phone. Unless there’s an emergency, we don’t interrupt him.”
A smacking kiss from the kid—Dane was sure Oz had better skills than that to hold Jax’s attention—and then Jax was back on the phone. “Sorry about that.”
“Understood. These things will happen to the evil stepmonster.”
“F—” Jax turned the sound into a sigh. “I’m going to go check on the laundry.” A door opened and closed, feet thumped on stairs. “Okay. Now. What the motherfuckinghell is going on?” Jax whispered.
“Do you want to get out a few more while you can?”
“I’m serious. After all the shit you gave Theo about Kieran? And what you’ve been spouting for years about the archaic institution of marriage and non-monogamy and how I’m not sophisticated enough to understand your lifestyle—”
“Don’t hold back, babe. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Sorry.” Jax sucked in a breath. “Christ. G. You didn’t just mail him an invitation?”
Gideon would be touched—though he’d claim he was pissed—to know that his feelings were the first thing on their friends’ minds.
“Gideon knew before I sent the invitations.”
“Oh—okay, then.”
“That’s it? As long as it’s all right with Gideon?”
Jax blew out another long sigh. “People change. Hell, I’ve changed. If this is what you need—want—to do, why not?”
Dane swallowed around the thickness in his throat. He loved his moms. His bio dad. But these guys, they were more than family. He didn’t want to even try going through this without them. He’d find a way to tell Jax soon. “I love you, babe.”
“Love you too.” A metal lid banged. “Aw shit. I washed a fucking marker in with the clothes again.”
“Nice go
ing, stepmonster.”
“I’LL BE back in a couple of hours.” Spencer wriggled out from under Dane’s lean.
Despite the August heat in the house, Dane’s side went cold in the absence. He forced himself to straighten. “Fine.”
Spencer bent and gave him a dry kiss before striding off. Dane flipped through the channels for something to do to keep him awake while waiting for Theo and Kieran to show up.
“There’s stir-fry in the fridge if you change your mind about being hungry.” Spencer stood near the door, tossing his keys up and catching them in familiar impatience. Dane loved the game of snatching them out of the air before Spencer could catch them and then stealing a kiss.
But he was conserving energy so he could get to the door to let Theo in. Wasn’t Thursday supposed to be the highest energy day? Five more weeks to get through. And then…. No, he wasn’t thinking about that.
“Dane?” The keys clinked in Spencer’s grasp. “Did you change your mind? I can stay.”
Dane focused his attention back outward with an effort. The words were unremarkable, but he could read the need for escape in Spencer’s body. Could Dane blame him? He wanted to escape just as much, but it was his own body he couldn’t run from. He took in the backpack slung over Spencer’s shoulder. The clothes, his freshly combed hair. Not the gym, not work. A fuck date.
Dane’s stomach soured even more. Not that he was jealous. Hell, he should be glad Spencer had an outlet, some kind of relief. Gods knew Dane wasn’t up for anything. It wasn’t jealousy, but disappointment. In himself.
“I’m fine. It’s only Theo and Kieran.”
Spencer fumbled with the keys, and they crashed on the hardwood floor. “If you ask me to stay, I will.”
Dane dragged to his feet and went to give Spencer a real kiss good-bye. The kind that had brought them home to each other for ten years.
Spencer held him tight, lips brushing his ear. “Ask me.”
Dane kissed him again and stepped back, smiling. “I’m fine. Get some for me.”
Spencer shook his head, as if Dane didn’t know that every atom in him was straining to get out of the door, away from Dane’s dependence.
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