All We Knew
Page 1
PRAISE FOR IN THE CARDS
“Infused with . . . fresh detail . . . Between the sweetness of the relationship and the summery beach setting, romance fans will find this a warming winter read.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Fans will love the frank honesty of her characters. [Beck’s] scenery is richly detailed and the story engaging.”
—RT Book Reviews
“[A] realistic and heartwarming story of redemption and love . . . Beck’s understanding of interpersonal relationships and her flawless prose make for a believable romance and an entertaining read.”
—Booklist
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE WAIT
“[A] poignant and heartwarming story of young love and redemption [that] will literally make your heart ache . . . Jamie Beck has a real talent for making the reader feel the sorrow, regret and yearning of this young character.”
—Fresh Fiction
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE TROUBLE
“Beck takes readers on a journey of self-reinvention and risky investments, in love and in life . . . With strong family ties, loyalty, playful banter, and sexual tension, Beck has crafted a beautiful second-chances story.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
PRAISE FOR SECRETLY HERS
“In Beck’s ambitious, uplifting second Sterling Canyon contemporary . . . Conflicting views and family drama lay the foundation for emotional development in this strong Colorado-set contemporary.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Witty banter and the deepening of the characters and their relationship, along with some unexpected plot twists and a lovable supporting cast . . . will keep the reader hooked . . . A smart, fun, sexy, and very contemporary romance.”
—Kirkus Reviews
PRAISE FOR UNEXPECTEDLY HERS
“Character-driven, sweet, and chock-full of interesting secondary characters.”
—Kirkus Reviews
PRAISE FOR WORTH THE RISK
“An emotional read that will leave you reeling at times and hopeful at others.”
—Books & Boys Book Blog
PRAISE FOR BEFORE I KNEW
“A multilayered and tightly plotted journey that’s sure to tug at the heartstrings.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A tender romance rises from the tragedy of two families—a must read!”
—Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Jamie Beck’s deeply felt novel hits all the right notes, celebrating the power of forgiveness, the sweetness of second chances, and the heady joy of reaching for a dream. Don’t miss this one!”
—Susan Wiggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Before I Knew kept me totally enthralled as two compassionate, relatable characters, each in search of forgiveness and fulfillment, turn a recipe for heartache into a story of love, hope, and some really good menus!”
—Shelley Noble, New York Times bestselling author of Whisper Beach
ALSO BY JAMIE BECK
In the Cards
The St. James Novels
Worth the Wait
Worth the Trouble
Worth the Risk
The Sterling Canyon Novels
Accidentally Hers
Secretly Hers
Unexpectedly Hers
Joyfully His
The Cabot Novels
Before I Knew
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2018 by Jamie Beck
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542049030
ISBN-10: 1542049032
Cover design by Rachel Adams
To my husband, with love, for being a man who honors his commitments and puts his family first.
CONTENTS
Start Reading
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
SNEAK PEEK: WHEN YOU KNEW (THE CABOTS, BOOK 3)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The course of true love never did run smooth.
—William Shakespeare
Chapter One
Certain moments in a man’s life are engraved on his memory in 24-karat gold. Hunter Cabot recalled several, including his first kiss (Tina Baker) and his father’s proud hug when he’d graduated from college summa cum laude. But the shiniest memory of all involved the jolt he’d felt the instant he’d laid eyes on his wife, Sara, right here in Memorial Glade on Berkeley’s campus.
He’d been comparing Microeconomic Analysis notes with two classmates in the shadow of Doe—the university’s massive granite neoclassical-style library—when Sara exited the building and skipped down its stairs. Unlike most harried students, her miles-wide smile had radiated something other than stress. That smile and her bouncing honey-colored hair, both warmer than the California sun, had shone like a lodestar.
Mesmerized, he’d sprung off the ground, grabbed his backpack and, without so much as a goodbye to his friends, chased her down before she could slip away. Luckily, his intensity hadn’t scared her off, and she’d agreed to dinner that night. They’d been together ever since, marrying by the age of twenty-five and living that happily-ever-after dream most people see only in the movies.
Or at least he’d thought so, until recently.
Now he stood at the edge of the glade, having returned for alumni homecoming activities, hoping the faint aroma of eucalyptus and pine would trigger her memories of what they’d once been and the promise of what still could be.
“Hunter! I didn’t expect to see you.” Greg Maxwell approached and sat on one of the new teak benches Hunter had recently underwritten.
“I know. It’s been too long since we’ve come to a reunion.” With his finger, he traced the letters on the plaque affixed to the back of the bench that bore Sara’s and his names.
Smiling, he glanced around at the other seven benches now flanking the glade. Instead of making his routine donation to his alma mater, this year he’d done something specific. Something to give Sara and him a permanent toehold on this particular ground. Not that she knew it yet. He planned to surprise her today, but Greg’s unexpected presence meant he’d have to wait until later.
“Where’s Sara?”
He nodded toward the library. “Pit stop.”
She’d been complaining about headaches and bloating thanks to the daily course of shots and medications needed to coax her ovaries into producing more eggs.
“She still looks great.” Greg crossed one loafer-clad foot over his knee and casually stretched an arm across the back of the seat. “You got lucky with that one.”
“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, buddy.” He chuckled, although he knew he’d been damn lucky. Lucky no one else had been smart enough to scoop her up before he’d swooped in. Then again, from the start he’d known they were soul mates. No one and no thing could have come between them back then. Even with the recent tension, his faith endured.
Students were now crisscrossing the campus all around Greg and him, weighed down by backpacks and academic pressure. He wished he could tell them life got easier.
“Were we ever this young?” Greg shook his head of prematurely salt-and-pepper hair.
“Speak for yourself.” Hunter patted his own trim waist in jest. Avid cycling kept him fit, and his sandy-brown hair had yet to gray. “I’m still young. Just wiser and wealthier.”
Although some days he felt every second of his thirty-four years, especially lately.
“I suppose the upside of maturity is that I’m no longer invisible to women. Too bad you can’t join me in playing the field.” Greg glanced toward the library, raised his chin with a smile, and stood. “Here comes your wife.”
Hunter turned in time to catch Sara descending the library steps. Unlike the first time he’d seen her there, her signature smile remained hidden behind a shallow grin. She’d pulled her thick hair into some kind of twist that didn’t glint beneath the sun.
A cool autumn breeze tickled the back of his neck as she crossed the walkway and came to his side.
He captured her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, an intimate gesture he enjoyed. She had such soft hands, and he liked seeing his ring on her finger. “Feeling better?”
“Sure.” She nodded, but he suspected she was faking it for Greg’s sake. She leaned forward and pecked their old friend on the cheek. “Hey, you. Long time.”
“To look at you, I’d guess no time had passed whatsoever,” he replied.
Hunter knew Sara wished she were still that blithe girl, or at least that her reproductive organs were ten years younger. Still, she grinned at the compliment. “Since when did you become a flirt?”
“Better late than never. I like to practice on married women. They seem to appreciate the flattery more than others.” Greg gestured toward the pathway that led to the student union, where the alumni party was taking place. “I suspect that many husbands take their wives for granted after the honeymoon.”
“Savvy hypothesis,” Sara teased, but didn’t refute him.
“I take it back, Greg. I did get lucky. Luckiest guy on campus, actually.” He draped his arm over Sara’s shoulder as they walked along the paved pathway. He liked the feel of her against his side, her floral perfume hovering around them.
Familiar. Warm. His.
They entered Pauley Ballroom in the student union. Soaring ceilings and plate glass walls framed the space now crowded with alumni of all ages—a diverse group of people from around the globe. He’d been a star in high school, but amid the collective brain trust in this room, he was average. He eschewed that lame designation, but he also didn’t fight battles he couldn’t win.
“I need a drink. Can I get you a glass of wine?” Greg asked Sara.
“No, thanks.”
“Not drinking?” Greg cocked his head, then his eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to her midsection. “Any particular reason?”
“Just my headache.” Sara’s nonchalance fooled Greg, but Hunter felt her tense beside him.
“Sorry.” Greg then looked at him. “Beer?”
“You go ahead. We’re going to make the rounds. Catch you later.” He nodded goodbye to his friend before turning to Sara. “Sorry.”
“At our age, it’s bound to come up.” She smoothed the front of her skirt, conveniently avoiding his gaze. “That’s why I’d rather have gone to visit my family.”
So far his plan to rekindle the spark that had thrown them together hadn’t been working out as he’d hoped. Rather than concede defeat, he shifted the conversation. “Did you notice the benches outside Doe?”
“I did. A nice addition, actually.”
“I’m glad you approve, because we donated them.” He stared at her, hoping for her wide smile to emerge. The expansive, joyful smile that always filled him with heat and happiness.
“We did?” She chuckled with exasperation. “I don’t recall discussing it or writing a check. Maybe I’ve got Alzheimer’s on top of everything else.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. “You know why I did it?”
She shook her head against his chest. He eased his hold and looked directly into those intelligent sky-blue eyes that he’d never grow tired of waking up to each day. “Because of all the good things that came from my four years at this school, you are the very best.”
“But what’s that have to do with benches . . .” Her brow furrowed. Then her face relaxed, and for the first time all day, her real smile surfaced. “You pounced on me in that glade.”
“‘Pounced’ is an exaggeration,” he defended.
She cocked a brow.
“Okay. I pounced.” He tipped up her chin with two fingers and lightly kissed her mouth. “I’m not ashamed or sorry, either.”
“Hunter.” She hugged him, sighing deeply. “Just when I’m feeling uncertain of everything, you say something that reminds me of why I love you.”
He held her tight, his own muscles relaxing upon hearing that affirmation. Things might be rocky these days, but she still loved him. He could work with that.
“Sara!” A woman’s voice rang out above the din.
Hunter and Sara turned to see the gremlin, Sondra Jones, bearing down on them. He suppressed a groan, having never liked Sara’s sorority sister. Sondra never said or did anything cruel or underhanded, yet he suspected her of being disingenuous and striving for one-upmanship.
Of course, Sara disagreed. She said that, even if it were true, it only meant they should take pity on her insecurities. Unlike his wife, Hunter wasn’t predisposed to extending people that kind of patience.
Sara hugged Sondra, who wasn’t wearing a snugly tailored outfit for a change. In fact, she looked like she’d gained a few pounds. Her big job at Google must’ve been cutting into her time at the gym. The only appealing thing about the woman was her rich, throaty voice—assuming one could ignore what she was saying.
“You’re glowing, Sondra. Married life agrees with you.” Sara smiled, even as Sondra held her recently bejeweled hand up to her chest, showcasing a diamond the size of a pecan.
“I’m sorry you and Hunter didn’t make it to the wedding,” Sondra gushed, glancing back and forth between them.
If that were true, Hunter guessed it was only because she’d wanted to show off her high-tech, high–net worth catch. He’d heard from another old friend that over four hundred guests had attended the lavish affair.
“Me too. I hear it was quite the event.” Sara squeezed Sondra’s arm. “We’re happy for you both. Is Fred here? I’d love to finally meet him.”
“He’s running late.” Sondra gazed lovingly at her sparkler before lowering both hands to her sides. “Important meetings and all that . . .”
Sara cast her friend a sympathetic look, which rubbed Hunter the wrong way. He didn’t know Fred, but he did know that sometimes business had to take priority. It’s not like he—or any other guy—preferred to be chained to a desk instead of being in bed with his wife. Then again, if that wife were Sondra, Hunter would regularly use work as an excuse to stay away.
“I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can,” Hunter ventured, drowning Sara’s quiet sigh.
“I’ll admit I don’t miss the long hours now that I’ve cut back to part-time. Sara, I heard you left Columbia Sportswear. Can I assume we have something else in common, too?” Sondra gestured with both hands toward her abdomen. “I’m due in late March!”
No one else would’ve detected the stab of pain he knew had just cut through his wife or realized that the mist in her eyes wasn’t happy tears for her frien
d.
Sara muttered something to Sondra, but Hunter didn’t hear a word thanks to the angry, frustrated static in his ears. His loving, talented wife wanted a baby more than anything, and yet, for more than two years, they’d failed to make it happen.
Failed. Not a word Hunter associated with himself or her, but in this one facet of their lives, he’d been utterly powerless. He’d changed his underwear, had sex on a schedule, and thrown time and money at various treatments. Despite his efforts and the pain and suffering Sara’s body had undergone, nothing had worked. The repeated disappointment had also taken its toll, particularly on his wife. This IVF was their second and, according to Sara, last chance to try.
Hunter didn’t pray much, but he’d begged God to give Sara the baby she wanted. To make her the mother any kid would be lucky to have.
“So I’ll be alone gaining forty pounds, getting stretch marks, and walking around with sore boobs all year?” For the first time, Sondra’s throaty laugh didn’t sound appealing.
He shouldn’t be angry with her. Like most people, Sondra probably didn’t stop to think about how a careless joke might sound to someone struggling to get pregnant. Not that she knew that about Sara and him, but shouldn’t people exercise a little circumspection?
Sondra squeezed Sara’s hand. “When you do get pregnant, call me, and I’ll share all the tips I’ve learned.”
Sara nodded stiffly, her composure slipping.
Hunter wrapped an arm around her waist, ready to whisk her away from this conversation. “Sondra, excuse us, but I’m actually on the hunt for Greg.” Years of his mother’s yammering about being polite led him to kiss Sondra on the cheek before he steered Sara out of the ballroom.
Chapter Two
Thank God Hunter had been propping her up. Sara’s legs had nearly given out when Sondra announced her pregnancy. Now her knees barely supported walking.
She would not cry in the middle of the party. She would not be destroyed by someone else’s joyful news, although deep down, jealousy howled, low and pained, like the neighbor’s old malamute, Denali.
The sunlight pouring into the atrium made the space too warm, causing her already-sour stomach to curdle.