When Fate Isn't Enough

by Isabelle Richards

  Chapter Three

  After a long bath, I hop onto the bed to rest for a moment. The next thing I know, I wake up and the room is pitch black. At first I hear a crackle, then a zap off in the distance. Then I feel the itch of the rope on my wrists and the smell of manure. Then the room begins to spin.

  I can’t catch my breath. I don’t know where I am. Nothing looks familiar. My heart feels like it’s going to explode and I feel as if I’m breathing through a straw. The only sound I hear is my gasping for oxygen.

  Warm hands gently rub my back. “Shhhh,” Gavin whispers. “I’m here. You’re safe. Breathe, luv. You need to breathe.”

  I let my weight collapse into his strong frame while I try to get a hold of myself. He whispers words of security as I try to get my breathing under control. The vice on my heart loosens. I look over at Gavin. Once my eyes meet his, I feel as though the world is coming back into focus.

  He pulls my hair away from my sweat-drenched neck. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

  “Can we turn on a light?” I ask. “I’m not loving the dark right now.”

  Gavin turns a lamp on, and we both blink excessively as our eyes adjust to the light.

  He hands me his glass of water from the nightstand. “Is that better?” he asks.

  I try to take a sip, but my hands tremble too severely not to spill, so I hand it back to him. “I’m not really sure what happened. One second I was asleep, and the next second I was a train wreck. I felt like my chest got hit by a train.”

  He soothingly runs his hands down my arms. “Was it a nightmare?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t remember. But waking up in the dark really freaked me out. I…”

  “What?”

  “I just haven’t been in the dark very much since it happened,” I say. “At the hospital, there were always lights on. I know it shouldn’t freak me out, but…” I trail off.

  “Luv, we can sleep with the lights on if it helps. I’ll do anything to help you feel safe. I swear.” He kisses my temple. “You’ve been through so much, and it’ll take some time for your soul and your spirit to heal. Random things will bother you, but that’s just your brain’s way of processing what happened. Don’t let it upset you. That just feeds the problem.”

  I nod, knowing that he’s right, but I’m still livid I’m so affected by what happened. I should be stronger than this.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks.

  “Not tonight,” I reply. “Let’s just try to go back to sleep, okay?”

  He brushes hair off my forehead. “I understand you’re not ready to talk about it. But you have to at some point, luv,” he says. “You’re going to self-destruct if you keep it bottled up. You need to tell someone.”

  I pull away from him, and wrap the sheet around my shoulders. “You’re wrong. I’ve had to tell the damn story over and over and over again. I can’t do it anymore.”

  “I know, and I wish I could have shielded you from that.” He cocks his head to the side. “But, I know you. I’d wager whatever you told them is only the partial truth, which means you’re weighed down not only by what really happened, but by the lies you told as well. You can’t live like that.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want to forget it all. Just let me forget,” I plead.

  Eliminating the distance between us, he scoots closer to me. “I understand, luv. But it doesn’t work that way. The memories will haunt you until you face them. I’ve seen too many men come back from war and refuse to face the memories of what they lived through. Eventually, their memories swallowed them whole. I won’t let that happen to you.”

  I know he’s right, but I’m not ready. I lean my head on his shoulder. “Can you just be here for me? That’s all I need you to do. I don’t need you to fix it. You can’t fix it. Just be here.”

  He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be there for you, but first you have to let me in.”

  I nuzzle his neck. “Gavin, I want to tell you, and I will. But please, I’m begging you, not tonight.”

  “Of course, luv. What can I do for you tonight? How can I chase the demons away?”

  “Just hold me.”

  Wrapped up in his arms, my body finally relaxes. I can’t say the same thing for my brain. Every time I close my eyes, I see Not Charlie’s face. I know he’s gone, but I swear I can hear his voice in the distance. When I open my eyes, Not Charlie disappears. So, I spend the night watching Gavin sleep. The way his eyelashes flutter. How broad his naked chest looks as he inhales. The way his lips occasionally curl. I spend the night wondering about his dreams so I can evade mine.

  Gavin finally stirs around nine. He opens his eyes, which are so brilliantly blue first thing in the morning.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” I say.

  His arms wrap around me like a constrictor, pulling me so close to him that it’s hard to breathe. “I’m never letting you leave,” he says in a raspy morning voice. “If I could wake up like this every day for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man.”

  “Even though you can’t hit it in the morning for a while?” I tease.

  He laughs at my Jay-Z reference. “Yes, luv.” He releases me and shifts around a bit, looking uncomfortable. “I need to go for a run,” he says after jumping out of bed. “Think about what you want to do today. I’m all yours for the entire day. We can do anything you want.”

  “That depends. Are you going to have to keep going on run breaks?” I ask.

  “Quite possibly,” he calls from the closet. “I can’t help thinking about sex when I’m with you, so I’ve got to solve that problem somehow.”

  “I could help you,” I say seductively.

  He comes out of the closet tying a pair of track pants. “No, my dear, you can’t. Unless you’re saying that being with me doesn’t get your heart rate up.”

  “Oh no, just thinking of being with you makes my heart flutter. At least you get to go for a run to ease your ache. If I twiddle my thumbs, you’re on my case about my heart rate. Hmm, maybe while you’re gone I’ll think of a creative use for these thumbs.”

  He ignores me and goes about getting ready for his run. I sit up in bed and look out at the amazing view. It’s misting out this morning, and the gloomy gray hangs over the trees of the park. I feel Gavin slide behind me. His hand runs gently across my shoulders to toy with the edge of my tank top. As my heart thumps, he pulls my top back slightly and dumps a cup of ice down my back.

  “What the hell was that for?” I scream as I jump off the bed and shake the ice out of my clothes.

  Gavin rolls on the bed as he laughs. “You have to stop thinking naughty thoughts. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  I stick my bottom lip out as I cross my arms. “I like my mind in the gutter.”

  “We can’t live out all those sexy thoughts until your heart heals, and it won’t heal if you keep pushing it by thinking about being naughty. So stop thinking about it. Then we can start doing it sooner.” He kisses the tip of my nose and stands to start his pre-run stretching. As he reaches up to stretch his lats, his track pants dip low, displaying his perfect body. I can’t decide which is sexier: his pecs or his back. His ridiculous eight-pack ends in a perfect V. The V is like a big arrow pointing me to the Promised Land…

  I lick my lips. “And how am I supposed to do that when all of this is parading around?” I gesture to his bare torso.

  He snatches his sweatshirt from the edge of the bed and quickly throws it over his head. “Fine. No more naked time. I’ll only wear sweats around you.”

  “If only that would work! Have you seen yourself in sweats? They hang low and catch you in just the right places. You make sweats look hot.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be back. Come up with a plan for the day. Anything you want.”

  “What if I want—”

  He points a finger at me. “Anything but that.”

  He turns to leave
and I say, “Hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” as he walks away.

  He flips me off as he leaves the room. “All this running isn’t helping the cause. It’s just going to make you sexier,” I yell.

  While he’s gone, I manage to fall asleep and have a few steamy Gavin dreams. Thank god my unconscious self doesn’t seem to be impacted by my heart problem.

  I wake up and don’t see Gavin anywhere. I wander around the massive apartment until I find him in his office working on his laptop. He’s showered and changed into a blue cashmere sweater and khakis. He looks like he walked out of a Banana Republic ad.

  He jumps up and kisses me. “I was thrilled when I saw you getting some more sleep, but I’m even more thrilled you’re up. I’ve missed you so much over the last few weeks that it’s hard to miss one more moment.”

  He scoops me up and carries me to the sofa. “So what do you want to do today?”

  I trace his now scruff-free jaw. “Well, since you have been bragging nonstop about how wonderful London is, I figure you should show me around.”

  “Smashing idea. What do you want to see?” he asks.

  “I’m not in a touristy mood, so show me the best local stuff. Take me to your favorite restaurant and all your favorite places. Let me see Gavin’s London.”

  “You’ve come at the best time. The Christmas festivities have just started, and London is a wonderful place to be during the holiday. Dress warm.”

  “Will we be outside much?”

  “Of course! I’m not giving you a driving tour. You want to see London, so I’m going to show you London. Now quit whining and get dressed!” He smacks my butt as I scurry out of his office.

  Thankfully, Em was smart enough to pack a hat, gloves, and a scarf, allowing me to bundle up for our adventure. He’s like a little kid, so excited to show off his hometown. He has so much English pride it’s comical. He belongs here. I could tell that from the moment we got off the plane.

  We start at his favorite pub,—or one of them. The Lamb and Flag is in Covent Gardens, the name of Brooke’s show, and I try very hard not to think about that. From what he tells me, the pub has been around for hundreds of years. Dickens used to drink here. In the US, the popular places are modern and fresh, but here, some of the best places have been the best places for hundreds of years.

  The Lamb and Flag is known for their whiskey, so Gavin spends lunch making me try samples of dozens of different whiskeys. I hate them all, and he knows it. I think he just enjoys the face I make when I taste them.

  I ask the server what I should order, looking to try something British, and he tells me to get a burger. Who comes to England for a burger? I cannot imagine them being able to make a burger the way I’m used to, so I go for the shepherd’s pie, which isn’t half bad.

  All of the whiskey has me feeling warm and toasty, a blessing as we brave the cold day. The light rain has stopped, so we take a short walk through Covent Gardens. We end up at a palatial building with a giant ice rink in front of it.

  As soon as I see it, I skip, dragging him toward the rink. “Gavin, I haven’t been ice skating since I was a kid! What a great idea!” I squeal.

  He kisses my hand as we get in line. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I’m a bit tipsy from you pouring drinks down my throat, so you’d better be ready to catch me.” When we get to the front of the line, we give the attendant our skate sizes. I bite my lip. “I hope I can still skate.”

  Gavin pays for our skates. “It’s like riding a bicycle. It’ll come back to you.”

  “Can you skate?” Before he can answer, I hold up my hand and say, “Never mind. You’re Gavin. Of course you can skate. In fact, you probably started playing hockey before you could walk and were this close to joining an Olympic team, but you didn’t because you wanted to pursue something else you’re amazing at.”

  A blush spreads across his cheek as he laughs. “Yes, I can skate. Yes, I played ice hockey, but I was never that good. I played in school, but that’s it.”

  I pat his face. “You’re too pretty for hockey.” I kiss him before he can fight back.

  He picks up our skates and carries them to the bench so we can lace them up. Getting to go on a normal date with him, like a normal couple, is wonderful. The rink is packed with people, so I pray I can control myself. I’d hate to wipe out and take down a bunch of people with me.

  While tying my laces, I turn to him. “So, let me get this straight. Ice skating is okay, but sex isn’t? Explain this to me.”

  With a wicked gleam in his eye, Gavin kneels in front of me. He unwraps my scarf from around my neck and places it in my lap. Sliding his hand under the collar of my coat, he runs his finger along my color bone, stopping on the side on my neck. He leans in and whispers, “By watching this spot right here, I can monitor your heartbeat.” His hot breath on my neck sends shivers down my body. “When I slide inside you for the first time and your eyes roll back from the pleasure, I can see you what I do to you. Your breath hitches, your head tips back, exposing your gorgeous neck and this spot tells me how aroused you are. When I thrust deep inside you and hit the sweet spot that makes you moan, I run my tongue along your neck and I can feel the excitement coursing through your body. Your hungry need to come. When you finally come apart beneath me, your pulse races like a jackhammer. Even when you’re one hundred percent healthy, I worry about what I’m doing to you. So whilst I think your heart can handle for a casual skate, I know you’re not ready for me. When I finally have you again, taste you again, you’d better be in tip top shape, because you’re not going to be able to move for days after I’m through with you.”

  He wraps the scarf around my neck with an innocent look on his face, as though he didn’t just rock my world and drench my panties. “Better keep you bundled up. Can’t have you catching a cold.” He stands and holds out his hand to me. “Ready to skate?”

  I shake my head while taking his hand. “You’re evil. Pure evil.”

  He winks then guides me to the rink.

  Of course Gavin glides on the ice as if he does it every day. It takes me about thirty minutes to get my ice legs—or maybe that’s how long it takes for the alcohol to burn off. I get confident when my childhood skating skills come back to me, but after a little over an hour, he calls it quits. He doesn’t want to push my heart too much.

  I hold his hand while we walk away from the rink. “I think my heart had nothing to do with it. I think you just didn’t like that I was skating a little better than you by the end.”

  He smiles. “Not at all. I had a wonderful time watching you.”

  “I used to be quite the skater when I was a kid.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  I nod. “There was a lake across the street from the house I grew up in, and I would skate every time it froze over. Which was all stinking winter. Then the boarding school I went to was a big hockey school. Instead of P.E. for two quarters a year, we would go to the rink. The boys would play hockey, and the girls would figure skate.”

  He pulls me in for a kiss. “You were impressive. We’ll have to come back so you can show me up!”

  When we’re walking again, he says, “Lake skating is very dangerous, you know. I almost fell through the ice once at our country house.”

  “My best friend’s grandfather was the fire chief,” I say. “He went out and checked the lake every day and put out cones to mark when it was safe. That was one of the great things about growing up in such a small town. There were lots of little things like that.”

  “Tell me about it,” He says while motioning that we need to cross the street. I have no idea where we are, but it’s relatively quiet.

  “When I lived there, Ashfield had less than a thousand people in it. It’s a one-stop-light town, and that stop light is always blinking. Everyone knew everyone, which had its pros and cons. There were thirty-two kids in my grade, and we all knew each other from kindergarten, and our parents knew each other from ki
ndergarten. It’s a different way of life.”

  He gently tugs on my arm, helping me avoid a mud puddle. “Do you miss it?” he asks.

  “I try not to think about it. The girl I was then died in the fire with my parents. I had to grow up so fast. When the church took me in and sent me to boarding school, I was surrounded by rich kids, and I knew nothing of their world or how to fit in. After some trial and error, I learned to adapt, and when I did, I was never the same person again.”

  He doesn’t say anything, we just keep walking. The only sound between us is the squishing noise my wellies make when I walk on the damp ground. Uncomfortable with silence, I say, “I haven’t been back since I was thirteen.”

  “I think this is the first time you’ve spoken of your childhood,” he says.

  I think about it. “It isn’t something I talk about often.” He doesn’t say anything, which feels like a silent prodding to talk. “They aren’t fun memories, Gavin.”

  “There aren’t any good memories? Even from before?” he asks.

  “No, I have wonderful memories from before my parents died. I just don’t allow myself to think about them. I never wanted people to know I was a poor orphan girl, so I keep that part tucked away. It’s like she never existed.”

  He pulls me to him and kisses me. “Well, I love the poor orphaned girl. All of her.”

  We arrive at the Covent Garden Market just in time for me to escape continuing this conversation. The market reminds me of the Eastern Market in DC, but it’s bigger and completely decked out for Christmas. The market has two stories full of fresh produce, bakeries, and flower shops. I’m in love with it. We wander around and pick up things for the flat. I try not to go overboard, but everything looks so fabulous. Gavin, of course, knows half the shop owners and chats them up as though they’re his long-lost pals. After about two hours of wandering—and me eating too much—we decide we have more stuff than we can carry, and we take a taxi home.