When Fate Isn't Enough

by Isabelle Richards

  I was right. Lumberjack Gavin is crazy hot. The way his back looks while he swings the axe… The fact that I’m the luckiest girl on the planet is not lost on me.

  While we were out, Hazel and Mason brought down decorations from storage. Gavin tries to protest—because he wants this to be all about starting fresh—but I think it’s sweet to use some of the things from when his parents were alive. Beyond that, we need them. This place is a huge!

  After dinner, Gavin hurries off to do a video conference. His company connects soldiers with their families during the holidays, and he likes to be hands-on with the project. I get to hear more Gavin-growing-up stories from Hazel and Mason while he’s busy.

  Mason takes some wreaths and garland outside to begin decorating the windows and doors, leaving Hazel and me to make the gingerbread houses. “You’re quite good for him,” Hazel declares. “I wasn’t sure what I would think of you, what with the way the two of you met and how fast your relationship has developed. I thought he was just jumping into someone else’s bed to forget all about Brooke. But watching the two of you together is lovely. I can see why he’s so smitten.”

  “How we met was rather unorthodox. We’ve been moving so fast my head feels like it is spinning,” I say.

  “It’s nice to see him happy. Brooke was horrible for him. A bad match from the start that drained the light from his eyes.”

  Unsure of what I can or should say, I just keep working on my gingerbread house.

  “They were married in name more than actually having a traditional marriage, as I’m sure you know,” Hazel continues.

  From her tone, I’m guessing Hazel’s itching to dish some dirt. I won’t start a Brooke bashing session—I don’t know anything about her to bash—but I won’t stop someone from starting one either.

  “Gavin thought when he married her, it would be just like the tabloids said it would be —a dream. She was a little too perfect, though. That’s how I knew she was fake.”

  “Some could say that Gavin is a little too perfect as well,” I point out.

  Hazel huffs. “Gavin doesn’t have to try. Brooke was always trying. It must have been exhausting keeping up all her facades. She had so many walls, Gavin could never get close. She always kept him at a polite distance so they could live their separate lives. I understand that sort of relationship is commonplace in Hollywood, but I wanted more for Gavin.”

  Déjà vu makes me ill. Gavin not only likes to play the hero, but he likes his damsels jaded, with impenetrable walls around their hearts. Looks like I actually do have some things in common with Brooke. I hate that I’m part of his pattern, and I hate myself for putting him through the same crap he fought for years.

  “His parents put him in boarding school when he was just a wee lad,” she continues. “He had me, but he never had a home with a mum and a pop that acted like a family. When he married Brooke, he hoped that was what he was going to get, and it never happened. He told me once, when Brooke was at her worst and I begged him to leave her, he said, ‘I don’t deserve a nuclear family. This is the life I was bred for. I can’t hope for a happy wife and a minivan full of footballers. It isn’t in the cards for me.’ He always saw his wealth as a curse.”

  I put my frosting knife down. “Poor Gavin,” I say. Looks like I’m not the only one paying penance.

  “Can you give him that, Lily?” she asks.

  I rearrange the gumdrops on the gingerbread house, racking my brain to find the right thing to say. “I grew up like that. White picket fence, a dog. We had a station wagon instead of a minivan, though. I had two parents who loved each other more than life itself. The only thing they loved more was me. It was so long ago, I sometimes wonder if it was all a dream. I hope I can have that again one day, but I’m so broken, I don’t know if that’s possible. I love Gavin. I know with all my heart I don’t want to be with anyone else. As far as tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow, I can’t make promises. Life throws too many curveballs. I’ll never intentionally hurt him. I can’t see myself leaving him, but life is too unpredictable for promises.”

  She clasps my hand. “Oh, dear, you’re not broken. You’ve just had a heaping lot of the hard part of life. Don’t push people away because of it, or you’ll miss out on all the good parts.”

  My cell phone rings, snapping us out of the moment. While I answer, I wipe away the tears that have welled in my eyes.

  “Hey, Em, what’s shakin’?”

  “I’m coming to visit,” she says with fake enthusiasm.

  I pop a marshmallow in my mouth. “Great. When? Another lecture?”

  “I’ll be there Christmas day. No lecture. I just need to get out of town.”

  Anticipating this is going to be an in-depth conversation, I motion to Hazel that I’m going to take the call outside. Thankfully, there’s a door to the backyard off the kitchen. I’d probably get lost if I went through the house.

  To call this a backyard doesn’t do it justice. Gavin owns all the land in sight and then some. Acres and acres of rolling hills sprinkled with sheep, a duck pond, tennis courts. There are paths that wind all around the property, but it’s been too cold to venture out.

  From what Mason’s told me, when Gavin’s family was alive, the grounds were far more elaborate, with a topiary maze and lavish rose gardens. Gavin never uses the house to entertain, so Mason has scaled back dramatically. Personally, I think it’s beautiful as is.

  As soon as I step out the door, Hazel comes running after me with my jacket in her hand. “You’ll catch your death out here if you’re not careful.”

  I tuck my phone under my chin, while I pull my jacket on. “Thank you,” I say as she scurries back inside.

  Once I’m zipped up, I say, “I’m surprised you aren’t going someplace tropical with other beautiful people who avoid the holiday. Why do I feel there’s a story here, Em?”

  She’s silent, and I clear my throat. “Don’t offer me bullshit. I’ll see right through it.”

  “Fine.” She sighs. “Max asked me to come with him to see his family on Christmas. I told him I don’t celebrate holidays, but he wouldn’t back down. Then he got all emotional and asked questions I don’t answer. Instead of shutting him down, I told him you needed me and I was coming to see you.”

  Too cold to stand in one place, I walk down the path that I think leads to the front of the house. “So you’re flying to London on Christmas Eve so you can avoid talking about your relationship with Max. Do I have that right?”

  “Max and I don’t have a relationship,” she insists.

  “Bullshit! You and Max have something going on. Maybe you’re friends, maybe you’re more—I don’t know. But it is something, and it is real. Come to London if you want, I’d love to have you here, but don’t kid yourself about why you’re coming.”

  “I don’t do holidays, especially big family holidays with families I don’t know. You know that, and you’ve always respected that. He can’t. But that has nothing to do with why I’m coming to see you. You better than anyone know I have no problem telling him no. I don’t need to flee the country to avoid him.”

  The wind picks up, so I pull my hood up and dig into my pocket for my gloves. “You won’t go to his family event, but you’ll come to mine? You should be warned, I’m going all out. Tree, dinner, presents, party. I don’t care if you get shitfaced on eggnog all day, but the holiday is being celebrated.”

  “Fine, I can tolerate that as long as there is copious amounts of alcohol, I do what I want, go where I want, and see whomever I want. Those are my rules. If Boston can’t deal, then that’s on him.”

  “So you’re saying that you are seeing Max?”

  “Lily, end of. Seriously!”

  “Okay, okay. Whatever you say. We’re at the country house. Call Gavin to find out where it is, because I have no clue. The crew you met when you were here last is going to be here on Christmas. Get this—this place has its own bowling alley! We’re going to drink, bowl, and I’m insisting on a
Yankee swap.”

  She groans. “Is this the good kind of Yankee swap where everyone brings booze or the lame kind where I end up with a chia pet?”

  “I told everyone it’s a grown-up swap.”

  “Ooh, naughty Yankee swap is so much fun! Maybe I’ll get a vibrator!”

  “Liam is coordinating it, so if I had to guess, it’ll be very naughty. Gavin lives way out in the middle of nowhere, so you may have to stay here. I doubt there’s a five-star hotel nearby. But this place is bigger than the White House, so I think you can manage.”

  “I’ll stay for a day or two and then head back to London.”

  “I can’t wait to see you,” I say. This is shaping up to be an interesting holiday.

  “One more thing before you hang up,” she says. “Do you remember Ash’s fraternity brother, Todd Masters? He ran that techno club Ash used to drag you to all the time.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Yeah, what about him?”

  “He died. Sounds like the club burned down one night. He was trapped inside. All the boys in the house are going back to Tucson for the funeral.”

  Maybe it’s a coincidence. Clubs burn down all the time. Faulty wiring. Bad pyrotechnics. The place is full of alcohol, for Christ’s sake. One cigarette left burning, and the whole place could go up in flames. Just because he died under questionable circumstances doesn’t mean the cartel killed him. It doesn’t mean I got him killed.

  Maybe if I tell myself that enough I’ll actually believe it.

  “Uh, Em. I’ve got to run. Text me your flight info.”

  I dial Max’s number, but it goes straight to voice mail. We haven’t spoken since Vegas. That has to be a good sign. He has to know about Todd. If he thought it had anything to do with the cartel, he’d let me know. Wouldn’t he?

  I shove my phone in my back pocket, and realize I have no idea where I am. The house is no longer in sight. Freezing, I run as fast as I can back the way I came.

  When I open the door to the kitchen, I find Hazel in the kitchen finishing our gingerbread house. “Look at you! You’re an icicle. Let’s make you some tea.” She puts the kettle on, then wraps me in a blanket. While I defrost, she tells me more stories about Gavin and his parents. Once the kettle whistles, she makes me a cuppa with extra sugar, and puts out a platter of teacakes. Typically, I hate tea, but there’s something comforting and soothing having tea with Hazel. I can see how Gavin managed to grow up warm and compassionate, even if his parents weren’t.

  It’s long after midnight by the time Gavin comes out of his office. His hair looks like he’s been pulling at it all day, and there are bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. “Long day?” I ask.

  Hazel gets up from the sofa. “You work too hard.” She gives him a hug. “I’m off to bed. You should be too.”

  Gavin sits next to me, then kisses my temple. “Sorry I neglected you, luv. I had to put out a dozen fires burning back at the office, and there’s been some snags with the Christmas project.”

  I look through the cabinets until I find a bottle of scotch. “You have a company to run, Oxford, I get it. You’ve been chasing me around the world, so it’s only natural you have stuff to catch up on. Hazel and I have been doing just fine without you. Oh, and Em is coming for Christmas.”

  “Coming to see Liam?” he asks.

  I hand him the glass, then rub his shoulders. He’s all knots. “Running away from Max. I wouldn’t be surprised if Liam being here isn’t an added bonus though.”

  His chin falls to his chest, giving me better access to rub his neck. “I have to run back to London tomorrow morning for a meeting. Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

  I walk up the stairs and he says, “Where’re you going?”

  I point upstairs. “I assume one of the gazillion bedrooms upstairs.”

  He looks at me, confused. “Why would we do that? Upstairs is haunted.”

  “What?” I run down the stairs and hide behind him.

  He shrugs. “The place is over three hundred years old. Of course it’s haunted.”

  I look over his shoulder at the stairwell, petrified I’m going to see Casper float by. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  He puts his arm around me and chuckles. “Don’t fret, luv. They’re friendly ghosts.”

  My jaw drops and I shake my head. “You brought me to a haunted house.” I look at my watch. “If we leave now, we can be back in London by what two? Three?”

  He laughs. “We’re not leaving. But I have a surprise.” He threads his fingers through mine. “Come on. If you hate it, I’ll drive you back to London.”

  He leads me through the maze of the house, then opens a set of double doors which lead to the solarium. Shivers run up my body as I step on the slate floor of the all glass room. The floor is so cold, it feels like I’m walking on ice.

  “Is your surprise frostbite? ‘Cause I’m already losing feeling in my toes.”

  “Don’t be cheeky. Do you trust me?”

  “You take me to a haunted house and now bring me to a walk in freezer. Should I trust you?”

  “Yes. Now lie down and it’ll be worth it, I promise.” He motions to the makeshift bed, made of an air mattress and a mountain of pillows.

  I lie down on the air mattress and pull the blankets up to my chin. He turns out the lights, and the glass ceiling is illuminated by the brilliant sky. He climbs into the bed and wraps his arm around me. “Most of the time, the cloud cover is so thick, you can’t see the stars.” Being this far into the country, the stars are brighter than street lights. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, providing us with a view of the heavens which rivals that of the planetarium.

  “I know it’s cold, but I brought the warmest blankets we have, and I set up space heaters,” he says. “Plus I have it on good authority that I’m good at keeping you warm. What do you say? Stay and look at the stars or go back to London?”

  I snuggle close and kiss his cheek. “We can stay. As long as you protect me from the ghosts.”

  He kisses my temple. “You’re such a mug.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He chuckles. “It definitely doesn’t mean you’re gullible.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “You’re an ass!”

  He pulls me back to his side. “But you love me.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” I lean my head against his chest and close my eyes. “The air mattress is going to do a number on your back.”

  He runs his thumb along my jaw. “It’s worth it to see that look on your face. Your breath hitches a little, then your eyes get big and your smile gets bright.”

  “No one’s ever done things like this for me before. All these romantic gestures… it blows my mind. You make me feel like the most special girl in the world.”

  He gently kisses my lips. “Because you are.”

  The sparkle in his eyes makes me want to believe him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He turns his head and closes his eyes. “Are you ever going to believe how much I love you? I wish I could make you understand. Since you’ve come into my life, I’ve come alive for the first time. The air’s cleaner, the sun’s brighter. It’s like every sense, every nerve ending, every molecule in my body is vivified. Everything before you was dull and muted, and now my life is a box of Crayolas. The big one with more colors than I thought possible. My life is bold and vibrant, all because of you.”

  I had that box when I was nine. Every shade of every color I could possibly imagine, with silly names that they had to stretch to come up with a 25th word for orange. That box was a rainbow, not only of color, but of possibility. I could create anything, and it was a glorious feeling. Gavin feels that way about me.

  He holds me tight and kisses me so intensely he almost touches my soul.

  I learn some valuable lessons tonight. One, crayons are the most romantic creation on the face of the planet. Two, air mattresses are designed for sleeping only. Other activities result in popping said air mattresses and falling q
uickly to the floor with a thud. Three, falling on a slate floor hurts like hell. Four, sometimes sex is so earth-shatteringly good, it’s worth it even when you have a bruised tailbone that hurts like hell.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Genius strikes at the most random times. I’ve been stressing about what to get Gavin for Christmas because he has everything and if he ever wants something, he just buys it. Just after I fall asleep in the solarium, I wake up to some creepy sound that old houses make. While trying to fall back asleep, I come up with a brilliant Christmas present. I just hope I can pull it together in time.

  Careful not to wake Gavin, I slip out of bed in search of my phone. If anyone can pull this together, it’s Em. It’s late in the U.S., but I know she’ll be awake. She tells me she’s on it, but I’ll have to be flexible. A couple hours later, I get a text with an address and a time. It’s in London, so I’ll have to hitch a ride with Gavin.

  After he wakes up, I tell him I left my birth control back at the flat and need to get back to take it right away. After all our activity last night, he can’t argue with that.

  With traffic, it takes us close to three hours to get back to London, leaving me just enough time to get ready for my appointment. Before rushing off to the office, Gavin tells me he wants to be on the road to the country house by five. I’ll be cutting it close, but I’m sure it will work out. It’s not like he’ll leave without me!

  My trusty cab driver, Lionel, is waiting for me at the curb after a quick primping session. After fighting traffic across town, we pull up to a sweet little cottage in a lovely neighborhood in a part of London I’ve never been to.

  Making my way up the walk, I get cold feet. I turn around to bolt, but Lionel’s already left. I pull out my phone to call him when the door opens, and a tall woman with red, curly hair waves me in. She’s wearing leggings and a T-shirt. Her relaxed demeanor puts me at ease.