When Fate Isn't Enough

by Isabelle Richards

  “Gavin saw that you bought a ticket to Vegas, and he called me to see if I knew what was going on. I didn’t have a clue, but I had a feeling if you were taking a random last-minute trip to Vegas, you might get in touch with Britt. I called her, Gavin and I flew out and here we are. Enough hiding in the bathroom.”

  She grabs me by the elbow and drags me down the hallway into the kitchen where everyone, minus Max, is having breakfast. Em turns to Brittany. “Sugar Cube, let’s grab some breakfast cocktails so you can tell me everything you’ve been up to while these two hash it out.”

  “No need. Lily and I are leaving,” Gavin says.

  “You are?” Em asks.

  “Yes.” He walks over to Brittany and gives her a hug. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I’m so sorry to drop in on you and leave. You’ve been a smashing host. If we’re still here later tonight, we’ll come see the show. I’m sure it’s brilliant. Please ring us if you come to London. We would love to spend more time with you.” He walks over to Phil, shakes his hand and thanks him for his hospitality. He comes back over to Em and hugs her. “I’m sure you can manage from here?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get Boston sorted out once he comes to. Lily, call me.”

  “All right. We’re off then,” Gavin says, grabbing my hand.

  “Do I get a vote in all this?” I ask, feeling like a child being handled.

  Em, Brittany, and Gavin shout, “No.”

  Gavin practically drags me out the door. Brit and Em shout, “Love you, Lil!”

  Traitors.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gavin opens the passenger door of a long, black Bentley. As I slowly walk down the driveway, I can’t help but notice how handsome he looks. He’s wearing jeans, which he never wears. I wish he would, because no ass has ever looked better in a pair of jeans. What does me in are the dark aviator sunglasses and the sexy scruff along his jaw. The whole package is so damn sexy, I almost forget we’re at odds with each other. But as I approach the car, I notice his clenched fist, ramrod straight posture, and the firm set of his jaw, and it all comes back to me. I have one angry Brit on my hands.

  As I step into the car, I notice his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Instinctively, I find his eyes. I have to look away the moment I do. Eyes are the window to the soul, and Gavin is in a very dark place. I can’t say I blame him—he did just see Max kiss me. If it had been me instead of James seeing Gavin and O kiss at the club, my reaction would have been nothing short of a nuclear meltdown. But I know there’s more behind Gavin’s bad mood than Max. We have so many issues to address, I don’t even know where to begin.

  Once I’m in my seat, he slams the door. I open my mouth to say something when he gets in the car, but I quickly change my mind. With so many issues on the table, I need to think about how to approach this. The tension in the car is stifling. He doesn’t say a word—possibly because his jaw is locked so tight, he’s grinding his teeth. I hate being the passenger when someone is angry driving. He’s not out of control or reckless, just faster than normal and a bit heavier on the brake. Each bump and turn feels like a message about how angry he is.

  I’m familiar enough with Vegas to know we’re headed back toward the Strip, or maybe the airport. I’m curious, but I refuse to be the first one to speak. After a few minutes, we pull up to Mandalay Bay. While this is an amazing hotel, it isn’t Gavin’s taste, so what the hell are we doing here? He drives around a bit, and I see it—the Four Seasons sign. I forgot the Four Seasons takes up the top four floors of the Mandalay Bay.

  He opens my car door and grabs my hand. I try to pull my hand away, but he squeezes tighter. Not so hard that it hurts, but firm enough to let me know he’s not letting me go anywhere. Does he think I’m going to make a break for it? When we step into the empty elevator, I pull away again, needing a little space. The torrent of anger flowing through him sucks up all the oxygen around him. I’m suffocating from his fury. I try to step aside and put some distance between us, but he pulls me back. I tense as he puts his arm around me, bringing me into his chest.

  He takes a deep breath. “Please don’t. For the last forty-eight hours, my mind has gone to the darkest recesses of my imagination. Wondering where you were. If you’re safe. If I’ll ever see you again. Just allow me a few moments with you next to me, so my heart can finally start beating again.”

  I breathe him in. As angry at him and confused by him as I am, I’ve missed him over the last few days. I know once those elevator doors open, he’ll let me go, and we’ll have to sort through our mess. Feelings are bound to be hurt, and painful things will be said. The question is, where will Gavin and I be when the dust settles?

  We take the elevator to the thirty-ninth floor, then he opens the door to yet another breathtaking suite. The room has floor-to-ceiling windows that look over the Strip. At night, the view’ll be phenomenal. If we haven’t killed each other by then, that is.

  I should be impressed, but I’m not. The room is adorned with fresh-cut flowers and a bottle of champagne on ice. Yes, the suite is opulent, and under different circumstances, it would be romantic. But under the current conditions, I feel as though I’m in an interrogation room. This is far nicer than my interrogation room at the police station, but I’m still trapped.

  After stepping into the room, my protective instincts take over, and I look around for the best spot to have this conversation. With how angry he is, I know I need space. When Ash and I fought, he always got me into a corner and intimidated me until I backed down. Gavin isn’t Ash, but his anger is so intense. I’ll never allow myself to be bullied like that again.

  The furnishings in the room remind me of my grandmother’s formal living room: beautiful, but not designed to ever be sat on. It’s clear the intention is to make spending time in the room as unappealing as possible so the guests will get back to the casino. I choose a stiff armchair and hope for a short conversation. If not, my back may need a massage afterward.

  He sits in the chair across the coffee table from me. “When was the last time you slept? Ate?”

  “I slept a bit in the car. Ate?” I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair while I try to remember. “I’m not exactly sure. London, maybe? Some pretzels on the plane. I stopped at In-N-Out in Phoenix, but they were closed.”

  He gestures toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you take a kip? Or order some food?”

  I cross my legs. “Sleep can wait. We need to talk first. Should we start with you kissing O or Max kissing me?”

  “You need to eat.” He walks across the room, picks up the room service menu, and hands it to me. “I never kissed O. She made a pass at me, and I threw her across the room.”

  I snort while I flip through the menu. “I’d have paid to see that. Not the kissing part, but the throwing her across the room part.” I put the menu down and look at him. “Why did she kiss you? Was this before or after you fucked me against the wall?”

  He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I owe you an explanation about that night. I planned on giving it to you when I got home that night, but you’d packed your things and run away with Max.”

  I tilt my head and smile sardonically. “I didn’t run away with Max, but I’d love to hear that explanation.”

  “And I want to know why Max had his tongue down your throat,” he says through gritted teeth.

  This conversation is going nowhere fast.

  “We’re going in circles. We’re both pissed and want answers, but we’re not going to get them by arguing about who has the bigger axe to grind. Can we just start with the night at the club and chronologically go from there?”

  “You left me, and I find you kissing Max, and you just want to be let off the hook?”

  “You left me first! You ‘can’t do this,’ remember? I’m happy to tell you everything that happened after I left.” I cross my arms. “But since you left first, you go first.”

  “I didn’t leave you,” he snaps. He picks the menu off the coffee table
and hands it to me. “Order first, then we’ll start.”

  I roll my eyes as I take the menu. “Just get me a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake.”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts in my order.

  I point at the chair. “Start talking. What the hell happened at the club? One second we’re having a ball at dinner, then we step into the club and you pull a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair as he sits. “I’m not proud of my behavior that night. I’d had way too much to drink at dinner, then when we got to the club, people kept ordering me shots. I was out of my head drunk.”

  “I’ve seen you drunk dozens of times, but never like that. ‘I was drunk’ isn’t going to cut it.”

  “Just let me get this out, all right? Like I said, I’m not proud. It might take me a moment.” I nod, and he continues. “I hadn’t been to a club in some time… since Brooke. If I’m being honest, I was feeling some déjà vu.”

  My jaw drops. “Are you comparing me to her?” Brooke’s memory plagues me enough as it is. Knowing he’s scrutinizing my behavior to see how I match up makes it ten times worse. I know it’s only natural—I certainly contrast him and Ash at times—but I don’t want to know about it.

  He glares at me, probably impatient that I’ve interrupted again.

  “Sorry, go on,” I say.

  “We hadn’t been married that long, a year or so maybe. Things were fine, or so I thought. One night, we went to a club. When we arrived, I was sucked into the crowd, just like I was that night with you. A bunch of people I really couldn’t care less about all wanted to do a shot and rub elbows. She made it clear she was bored, kept looking over her shoulder for someone better to talk to. After a while, she disappeared. I found her later on the dance floor, practically shagging some bloke. I got jealous, and she became hysterical. Told me I was being ridiculous, trying to smother her. She disappeared. I figured she found some friends and was blowing off steam. When I was ready to leave, I searched the club for her. I found her in a back room, high as a kite, half naked, and freshly fucked. By two different men. I’d love to say that was the first and only time that sort of thing happened, but it became a pattern.”

  I push the flowers to the other side of the coffee table and sit on the edge in front of him. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry Brooke did that to you, but you seriously didn’t think—”

  He holds up his hand. “As I said, I was positively plastered and wasn’t thinking clearly. The way you bolted from me, it stirred up memories. I tried to shake it off and focus on having a good time. I ran into some friends from secondary school, including O. They had one of the back rooms reserved, and we downed a bunch of shots. My memory’s a bit hazy, but I’m fairly certain it was absinthe, which in and of itself is always a mistake. Absinthe makes me crazy. On top of how much else I’d been drinking, it was a miracle I was still standing.”

  “So that’s your excuse. You were drunk and kissed O?”

  “It’s not that simple. Like I said, I had a bunch of bad memories floating around in my head. O started pushing buttons, and I sort of went down an emotional rabbit hole.”

  God, I despise that woman. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “From the room I was in, I had a perfect view of you on the dance floor.”

  A perfect view of Em and I practically molesting every guy we danced with. It was all harmless fun, but now I feel like a fool. Ash never cared who I danced with or how risqué I danced. Quite the opposite—the hotter I danced, the more it turned him on. It never occurred to me that Gavin would be hurt by it. I’m such an idiot. Ashamed, I bite my lip and look away. “Oh.”

  “O was in my ear, telling me how you were just like Brooke, how you’d end up breaking my heart and making a fool out of me, just like Brooke did. Then she told me she loved me, that she’d always loved me. That now that I was free of Brooke, it was our time to be together. She said you were down there cheating on me anyway, so it was the perfect time to cut you loose and run to her. She threw herself at me. I pushed her off me and stormed out.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. “I came down to find you, and you were all over James. I watched you, and my blood boiled. I know he’s my best mate and I didn’t really have anything to worry about, but O’s words were ringing in my mind, and I was petrified of losing you. Once you left the dance floor, I followed you. I… I needed to make you mine.”

  The wild club sex makes more sense now. It was actually pretty hot, but his behavior had been all over the place. Now I understand the trail of cum. I still think it was gross, but I understand. “So you marked your territory.”

  His eyes meet mine. “I told you I wasn’t proud. I was drunk and in a dark place, and I let my imagination get the best of me. My behavior followed suit. Then I heard you went home with James, and I lost my mind.”

  “What? I didn’t go home with James! We left at the same time, but I went to Em’s.”

  “I know that now, but at the time, I was convinced you were shagging my best friend. I took a cab home to wait for you and drank half a bottle of scotch while I watched the door, feeling more angry and humiliated with each passing second. When you came home, it was clear you’d showered and changed. I thought the worst. You wanted to talk, but I just couldn’t. I needed to sober up and get my head on straight first. If I’m being honest, I was a coward. I couldn’t bear to hear you say you were leaving me.”

  “And then I left.”

  I know none of this is my fault, but I feel bad for not even calling him before I left. Gavin always seems so together that it’s jarring to see him vulnerable and uncertain. In the past, when he spoke about Brooke, he seemed so resolved, as though he’d come to terms with everything that had happened. I thought he’d made peace with it, but clearly, I was wrong. She really did a number on him.

  Everything about Gavin oozes confidence and security, but there’re cracks in his shell of perfection. He has insecurities and fears just like the rest of us mere mortals. I’m relieved to learn he has a dark side. While his endless optimism can be comforting, it can be equally annoying. This moody-broody side tells me there are depths to Gavin I have yet to see, but based on how this experience went, I’m not sure I need to see them again any time soon.

  “In the sober light of day, I realized I was being absurd,” he says. “I came home and found you’d moved out. I drove to James’s and pounded on his door, demanding to see you.”

  “Oh, no.” Based on how hurt James had been at the club, I can only imagine how well that went.

  He nods, looking disappointed in himself. “Yup. It was a disaster. I accused my best friend of sleeping with my girl. He accused me of going after O. It got ugly. We both got a few good shots in before Liam pulled us apart.”

  There’s a knock at the door. I gesture for Gavin to stay while I get it. A gentleman carries a silver tray into the room and places it on the dining room table. I pat my pockets and realize I don’t have any money for a tip.

  Gavin pulls out his wallet and slips the guy some cash. “Is there something for me to sign?”

  “The bill has already been added to the room, sir. Enjoy,” he says with a smile before leaving.

  I open the lid and see a familiar white cup with red palm trees. “You got me In-N-Out!”

  “Perks of staying here. They’ll get you anything your heart desires.” He motions to my burger. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

  I sit at the table, and Gavin sits across from me.

  “Thank you for explaining about that night at the club. No matter how many times I went through the night in my head, I couldn’t piece together what had happened to make things turn sideways. I wish that you’d had more faith in me,” I say as I unwrap my burger.

  “It’s not like that. I know I behaved poorly, but it wasn’t a commentary about my feelings toward you. I was beyond blotto. A dark mood got the better of me, and I behaved like a prick. That
’s all it was. One bad night. Each and every day I work hard to show you the depth of my faith and trust in you. Please don’t throw all of that away because I fucked up one night. One night does not define me or us.”

  I slap the bottom of the Heinz bottle, trying and failing to get the ketchup to come out. “It’s going to take me a little while to sort through that one night. I hear what you’re saying, but what it sounds like you’re really saying is, ‘I didn’t trust you, but trust me now that I really trust you.’ I have to try not to be offended that you equated me with your junkie late wife. And that you allowed Skanky McCumbucket to worm her way into your brain, the maggot that she is. I hear you, Gavin, but it’ll take me a little while to believe you.”

  He takes the bottle. “If you hit the 57 on the side of the bottle, the ketchup comes right out.” He taps the side three times, and ketchup slides out.

  I drag a French fry through the ketchup. “That’s some trick. There’s another one of your tricks I’m curious about—how’d you know I was in New York?”

  Gavin sits in the chair next to me. “Sabrina called me, told me all about Max. She thought you might run off and do something stupid, like track him down and try to pull him out. I panicked. I tried to track your phone, but it was turned off, so I watched your credit cards.”

  I throw my fry on the wrapper. “What the fuck! Who the hell do you think you are? You have no right to invade my privacy!”

  “Do you recall being kidnapped twice—no, three times? While under FBI protection, no less. Has it slipped your mind that you’ve made enemies with a Mexican drug cartel? My company develops technology that can track down terrorists in the most isolated corners of the globe. Do you really think I wouldn’t use every resource at my fingertips to find you?”

  “This time, I hadn’t been kidnapped—I left.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I realize how foolish I sound. That won’t go down as the most effective comeback in history, but it’s the best I’ve got. I point at him and scowl. “Don’t think just because you have noble rationale that it excuses your Big Brother tactics.”