However, it was that voice of hers, a slow Carolina drawl, which called to me, touched me in ways I’d never known. The sound reminded me of Pops…of home and happiness. I already missed it…her.
“Wow.” Maggie laughed softly. “You look positively smitten.”
I shook my head, still amazed by my encounter with Samantha. “You have no idea, Mags. She was unlike any woman I’ve ever met. She made me laugh. Plus, she didn’t give a shit about her looks.”
Of all people, Maggie would understand how much that appealed to me. Gwen was known for how long it took her to get ready, how petty she was. Gwen refused to leave the house until every hair was perfectly placed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing she could find before walking out the door. She was more interested in being comfortable. She was real, Mags. Real.”
An old pain lingered in Maggie’s eyes, but she recovered quickly. “How’d you meet her?”
“Her seat was next to mine.” A grin tugged at my lips. “I’d just sat down when, all of a sudden, this soft voice asks if she could get by. Holy shit, Mags, it was like being struck in the ass by lightening.”
“You, my friend, are a dumbass,” she commented, her joy radiating off of her. “The fact that you took a second look at a woman is surprising, but for your reaction be that intense too – should I beat the crazy out of you?”
Frowning, I mumbled, “Thanks for rubbing it in.”
“Do you know where she’s staying, at least?”
“No,” I lied.
Divulging that I heard Samantha give the driver the name of her hotel through the cracked passenger window wasn’t going to happen. It needed to be put out of my mind altogether. First of all, if I showed up, she would think I was a stalker. Secondly, what I said to Maggie before was the truth – this trip was to reconnect with Lincoln. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was more important than that.
But maybe I could-
No.
I couldn’t pretend to bump into her.
Before Maggie could grill me more, the front door opened and Paul, Maggie’s husband, walked into the house, shaking the rain out of his hair. “Damn rain,” he muttered, aggravated.
Maggie’s face lit as she stood and hurriedly greeted him, giving him a kiss. “Hey, you,” she murmured, taking the bags of takeout from his grasp. “It’s nasty out.”
“I thought I’d make it home before the storm hit. I left my umbrella at the office,” he replied.
Paul was a bigwig finance executive. Like us, he was originally from Oregon, but they moved when he was transferred to London last year. At the time, I resented him for taking her away from me because believed I needed Maggie. Now, I was glad they’d left. It made me realize that I relied on Maggie too much, and to truly move on, I needed to let go.
Paul ran a hand down her belly lovingly. “How’s my little pumpkin doing?”
Their love was a current that flowed between them, the power easily pervading a room. I wanted to be jealous, but I couldn’t find it in me. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Maggie.
Maybe one day.
After everything that had happened over the years, it was one thing I coveted the most – someone to love unconditionally and vice versa. With Paul and Maggie, they had each other’s back in all things, protecting, sharing, nurturing. They were true partners in life.
I wanted that.
Maggie’s face gentled at Paul’s question. “Perfect.”
If I hadn’t forced myself to walk away from Samantha, would I have had that with her?
Stop it, Ben. You’re being melodramatic and morose.
When Paul noticed me, a broad smile stretched across his face. “Ben, man, good to see you.”
I stood and ambled toward him, meeting him in the center of the sitting room. “Same here, Paul.” We gave each other a solid hug and a manly pat on the back, chuckling. “It’s been too long.”
“No kidding,” he agreed as he stepped back. “It’s good to see a friendly face so far from home. How was your flight?”
Another flicker of Samantha’s face came to mind, but I shook it off. I needed to accept that I’d never see her again. “Long.”
“Paul, hon, dry off. Ben, grab Lincoln so we can eat.” Maggie held up the bags of takeout and started walking toward the door leading to the kitchen.
“Right,” I muttered, gulping.
Here we go.
Seeing my nervousness, Paul said, “Good luck. I haven’t been able to get through to him.” After an encouraging pat on the back, he disappeared down the hall.
Well, it’s now or never.
Once I ascended the steps upstairs, I approached the room Lincoln had been calling his for months now, the music far too loud on the other side. Two thunderous pounding knocks later, the music cut off and footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor.
“Coming,” I heard him call out.
Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and I was staring at a younger version of myself.
Lincoln Benjamin Rhodes was the spitting image of me in every way – black hair, blue-violet eyes, and the same large and stalky build. For being almost sixteen, my son was nearly as tall as me and had bulk most kids his age dreamed of having. It pleased me to no end that he didn’t have one iota of his mother in him. Nevertheless, it was hard to believe that next week Lincoln would be the same age I was when Gwen became pregnant with him.
“Oh, it’s you,” he remarked dryly.
I swallowed my retort, because honestly, I deserved it. I deserved every bit of anger he had towards me. When he needed me the most, I was too busy with school and my residency to realize it. On top of that, I had ripped him away from everything he knew to ship him off to London, and once our trip was through, I was moving him clear across the world to start over.
Yeah, I deserved a father of the year award.
“Hey, Uncle Paul is here with dinner,” I informed him, trying to smile.
He sighed, peeved. “Whatever…fine.”
“Look, Linc…” I ran my fingers through my hair anxiously. “I know you’re mad at me right now, but can we try? I want to have fun with you before we head back to the states.”
“Dad-”
“This isn’t easy for me either.” By the anger mounting in his eyes, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Quickly, before he lost it, I continued, “I’ve messed up a lot when it comes to you. I’ve screwed up a lot in general. But I’m willing to put in the effort to make it better. I want my son back. I want us to have the relationship we used to have.”
“What relationship?” he questioned harshly, and then pushed past me to walk down the stairs, not looking back.
The fissure in my heart fractured a little bit more. Still, I was optimistic. No matter how damaged our relationship was, it wasn’t broken.
I was going to get my son back.
Chapter 4
Samantha
Maybe coming to London by myself wasn’t the wisest decision I ever made. I’d been here for three days and found myself bored for the most part. Yeah, I’d seen some pretty amazing things – China town, Madame Tussauds, Buckingham Palace, St. Paul’s Cathedral, and so on and so forth – but when you have no one to share them with, they weren’t as exciting and seemed to fall flat and blur together.
I’d been tempted to call Chelsea, one of my good friends, and tell her I was flying her here. But I just couldn’t do it. Admitting that I was wrong didn’t come easily for me. Plus, it would be asking my family to say the dreaded I told you so.
Not this girl.
I would never admit defeat.
I sat at a little café on the corner of a busy street and sipped some wine, trying to figure out a way around my predicament. Usually, I was so self-assured and confident that it never crossed my mind that I’d be lonely here.
Maybe I could find a good looking local man and have him show me around. And maybe that would lead to ending my long dry spell.
Too much work.
I cursed myself for not trying harder with Ben.
Forget about him.
That was easier said than done. He’d been on my mind a lot lately.
Okay, maybe I could befriend a woman.
That was an even worse idea.
Back home, when I’d tried this, it blew up in my face every time. Women did not like me, for the most part. I’d gotten lucky with the few girlfriends I had, but that was because of the men in my life.
Don’t ask me to explain it, because even I don’t fully understand it.
All throughout elementary and intermediate school, I had friends left and right. I guess you could say I was one of the popular kids back then.
Then junior high and puberty happened.
Girls realized that I was Grey Raiden’s little sister, and they played me to get to him. I couldn’t count the times they used wanting to stay the night with me as an excuse to sneak into Grey’s bed after I fell asleep. Naturally, Grey kicked them out. He was too good of a man – and even then, a teenaged kid – to follow through. He’d wake me up the next morning and tell me what happened, lecturing me about my friends and their shenanigans.
Needless to say, those girls didn’t get another invite. They never understood why I wasn’t okay with them using me like that or inconveniencing my brother. Once that happened, I was shunned. Becoming a bit cynical and standoffish attributed to my friendlessness, as well – I became suspicious of all girls’ intentions.
Stop reliving high school, Sam.
I shook my head and let out a sigh, frustrated.
“Would ya like another, miss?” my waiter asked, gesturing to my nearly empty wine glass.
“Please,” I replied and smiled.
He disappeared and came back a few minutes later with another. I thanked him and decided to people watch instead of focusing on myself.
The weather was beautiful, so I was enjoying the sun on the patio. Others seemed to have the same idea, and the sidewalks were crowded and busy. There were tons of high-end shops on this street, hence the people carrying bags and wearing big smiles.
There was a park on the diagonal corner of the café, so I watched as little kids climbed on the playground, played tag, and swung on the swings. Couples lounged on blankets, enjoying picnics. Some were watching the sky or cuddling close.
I felt a pang of longing.
I wanted that one day…all of it.
Get yourself together, Sam.
I shifted my gaze, and a man across the street caught my attention. His back was to me, but something about him seemed familiar.
That should have been my first warning.
His back was impressive – I could make out the well-defined muscles through his white t-shirt. He had on a pair of jeans that molded to a fine, full ass.
Damn, if the front were anything like the back, he’d be breathtaking.
The man was staring at something in the window of a baby store. I thought it was odd, though I would be surprised if he was single. Men like that didn’t stay unattached for long.
Suddenly, the door next to him opened and his head whipped around, revealing his profile.
My mouth dropped.
Ben.
Ben was across the street from me!
A huge smile spread across my face, and giddy anticipation caused my knees to bounce. I never thought I’d see him again.
I debated going over to say hi.
Maybe I should call out his name.
Before I could make up my mind, a woman exited the shop and approached him. More importantly, a beautifully pregnant woman with long curly hair flowing down her back. It was an extraordinary shade of red.
Ben kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her shoulders affectionately. No, adoringly. She said something to him that made him tip his head back and laugh. The sound floated to me, and I shivered at the stark beauty of it.
My heart sank to my toes.
No wonder he blew me off. If he had someone like her waiting for him, there was no way he’d look twice at me. She was gorgeous.
Ben peered down at the woman and gave her a smile, a smile of complete and utter devotion. It was evident that he loved the woman with his entire being.
I felt deflated for many reasons.
I dug in my purse and then threw some bills on the table. Ignoring my full glass of wine, I left before Ben could see me, needing something stronger. I promised myself I would never think about him again.
∞
“Rough day?”
My head shot up in surprise. The bartender stood in front of me, her hip cocked.
“You could say that,” I admitted hesitantly.
I’d been picking at the label of my beer, throwing myself a pity party as I sat at the hotel bar. Even though I promised myself I wouldn’t think about him, my mind kept replaying the scene with Ben and his girlfriend.
Life really sucks sometimes.
“Wanna talk about it?” she questioned, her accent American, though I couldn’t place it.
“I bet you have people spillin’ their guts here all the time,” I commented, thrilled to talk to someone…anyone. It felt like I hadn’t had a real conversation in forever.
Again, I realized I made a terrible choice.
Sigh.
The bartender nodded, giving me a wink. “You have no idea.”
I laughed and held out my hand. “Sam.”
She put her hand in mine and gave it a firm shake. “Lyric.”
I tucked my lips between my teeth and eyed her thoughtfully. “Lyric…really? That’s a new one.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I had a penny for every time I heard that.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Sorry. Just surprisin’.”
“My parents were musicians,” she enlightened me, her eyes filled with mirth. “My brother was supposed to be named Ringo, but Mom put her foot down once he was born and named him Paul instead. Dad never forgave her.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Enough said.”
She cracked a smile and nodded at my beer. “Need another?”
“What the hell?” I decided. Might as well make the most of it. “I’m on vacation, right? Add a shot of Patrón for the both of us, too.”
As she popped open another beer, her brows shot up. “That bad, huh?”
I took the offered beer and sipped it, not wanting to admit why I was so glum. “You’re good at readin’ people.”
She shrugged, going about pouring our shots. “Comes with the job.”
“Right.”
She laughed and placed a shot glass rimmed with salt and lime in front of me. I grabbed the lime with two fingers and held the shot glass up to her, giving her a salute. She mirrored my movements, and then we were licking salt, shooting back tequila, and sucking on limes.
I let out a long breath through puckered lips when I was done, enjoying the burn. “God, that’s good.”
“Here, here,” Lyric concurred and stuck our shot glasses into the hidden sink below. “I needed that.”
“Me too.”
Someone shouted her name down the way, so she held up a finger and walked away. I sipped my beer while she served an older gentleman. She ambled back a few minutes later and leaned against the counter, saying, “Sorry ’bout that.”
“You have to serve to survive – I get it. Back home, I own a bed and breakfast. The guests needs…” I let my words hang.
“Are my command,” she finished.
Lyric was oddly compelling. She had multiple colors in her hair, an elaborate rainbow of pastels, and slightly crooked teeth. There were piercings in her nose and eyebrows and large gauges in both ears. Tattoos covered her skin from wrists to shoulders and across her chest – she was wearing a black tank top, displaying the colorful artwork proudly. She was small, much shorter than I, and had soft and dainty features.
“So, Lyric, how in the hell did you wind up in London?” I questioned. “Yo
u’re from the states, right?”
She flashed me her crooked teeth again. “Good call.”
“It’s pretty obvious.”
“I followed my brother,” she explained, shrugging. “I packed my shit once he said he was moving. He’s some corporate hotshot – how that happened is beyond me – and was transferred. I’m glad I did, too. My first niece or nephew should be arriving in the next few months.”
I screwed up my face in disbelief. “What about home…your other family, friends?”
“Paul’s all I have.”
I wasn’t about to touch that subject. Too deep for drinking.
I bobbed my head up and down instead. “Gotcha.”
“A Carolina girl, am I correct?” she questioned.
My lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I know for a fact that I can’t hide it, so yes, I’m from North Carolina.”
“What are you doing this far from home all by your lonesome?”
I quirked a brow. “How do you know I’m by myself?”
“You’ve been here every night since you arrived…and you’ve been alone.”
I didn’t realize she’d been here every night, too.
“You’ve caught me.”
“So…traveling alone takes some big cojones.”
“So does movin’ across the world to be with your brother,” I retorted and lifted one shoulder. “It is what it is. I decided I needed a break from life.”
She pursed her lips, an understanding lingering in her expression. “I get that.”
Lyric ended up getting the rest of the story out of me – why I was alone, why I didn’t have many girlfriends, how bored I was, my back and forth about meeting someone local to show me around…everything that ran through my head lately.
This girl was good.
I purposely left out Ben. I didn’t want her to think I was crazy. There was no reason to mope about some guy that sat next to me on a flight. Even I couldn’t wrap my brain around it fully.
“Seriously?!” Lyric giggled after I finished telling her about Grey. “They would sneak into his room?”
We’d had two more shots at this point, so I was feeling no pain. “Yes and yes.”
“Do you have a picture?”
Fated Bliss (The Bliss Series Book 2) Page 4