One Night with Fate: A standalone contemporary romance (One Night Series Book 3) Read online

  EDEN FINLEY

  Kindle Edition

  One Night with Fate Copyright © 2017 by Eden Finley

  Cover Illustration Copyright ©

  Kellie Dennis at Book Cover By Design

  www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Edited by Xterraweb Edits

  http://editing.xterraweb.com/

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

  For information regarding permission, write to:

  Eden Finley - permissions - [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter TWENTY-THREE

  Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

  Chapter TWENTY-SIX

  1

  SPENCER

  Our tongues were almost as tangled as our limbs. Reece moaned into my mouth and pushed her petite body against mine.

  “Reece … I—”

  “Uh-uh. Don’t think.”

  We were both tipsy, but that was no excuse for what we were doing. All I could think was I’d finally gotten everything I’d wished for since I was a teenager.

  One minute she was complaining about marrying a guy she didn’t love, about having to be perfect, and not knowing what she was doing with her life, and then the next minute, we were downing tequila shots.

  I knew I was in trouble before the alcohol had reached my throat. My mouth burned, and my brain fuzzed. Then she put another one in front of me.

  Where it gave me a buzz, it seemed to make Reece more depressed.

  Then, somehow, we were mauling each other in the back room of our local pub.

  I think our downfall was when she started crying and I put my arm around her to comfort her. Her blonde curls were soft as I stroked her head and whispered soothing things, but then she pinned me with her crystal blue eyes.

  And now, surrounded by cleaning supplies and the smell of stale beer, I could only focus on one thing.

  Reece Knightly.

  I’d wanted this woman all through high school, and our history was pretty simple:

  Friend zone.

  Broke up with her boyfriend—my best friend—and ended up making out with me at a party.

  Was back together with Cole the next day.

  Friend zone again.

  She went on to marry Cole and have a kid with him, and even though they’d been divorced for three years, what we were doing was wrong.

  Friends didn’t go for friends’ ex-wives.

  Which was only one of the reasons this was a bad idea.

  She was with a new guy, and she was getting married again.

  I told myself not to take it further—to take my tongue out of her mouth and step back. But when she wrapped a leg around my waist and ground against me, I couldn’t stop myself. I pinned her against the wall, and I swallowed her groan of pleasure as I continued to assault her mouth. Her hips rocked into me.

  “You’re killing me here,” I whispered against her lips.

  Her breathy moan of a response almost pushed me over the edge. “Need you.”

  I savoured the words coming from her lips. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to hear those words ten years ago.

  Being with her transported me back and dredged up old feelings I’d since buried deep down. Obviously, I didn’t dig deep enough or I’d be able to put a stop to this right now.

  Instead, my hand moved up her thigh, my fingertips treading lightly until they went under her skirt and gripped her ass tight. She whimpered when I pulled my mouth away and peppered kisses on her jaw and neck, while my hand moved lower, between her legs. One long finger moved her panties aside and teased her opening. Her hips jerked forward, causing my finger to thrust deep inside. She gasped at the same time I moaned.

  Shuddering, she breathed, “More.”

  I added a second finger, working her over, loving every moan and every sound she made. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, and then when a third finger slammed in, she cried out as she came. She was so loud, every patron in the bar probably heard it, but I was too busy enjoying the view of her falling apart to care.

  “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” she murmured as she convulsed onto my hand. Her head buried into my neck, her breath hard on my skin.

  “Watching you come on my fingers is the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” My voice was strained. “But Reece … what are we—”

  “I need you to fuck me.” Her hands frantically went to my belt and zipper.

  What little willpower I had left was gone—completely obliterated by six simple words.

  In my drunken, sexed-up haze, I was rational enough to remember a condom, but when I pulled it out of my wallet, I put it into her hand. If we were going to do this, she was the one who had to give the green light.

  I braced my forearm against the wall behind her head as she fumbled with rolling it on. When she finally got it, she wrapped her legs around my waist. One of my hands went under her ass while the other guided my cock to her entrance.

  Our eyes met in one last moment of hesitance. Last chance. Point of no return.

  Her legs tightened around me, joining us together. I was gone. Wet heat surrounded my cock. I’d never been a religious guy before, but holy fuck, I believed in heaven right now.

  She had a soft mouth but eager hips. Her mouth made love to me, as if she’d forgotten what real passion felt like and needed to savour every moment, but her body fucked me into oblivion. There was nothing tender and soft about the way her body moved. It was needy, willing to take anything I gave her.

  But the problem with teenage fantasies? They never included a morality clause where you forgot about the real world and majorly screwed up.

  The minute the buzz of alcohol faded and the orgasmic euphoria disappeared, we realised what a colossal mistake we made. I was still buried inside her when we both froze in panic.

  I never knew sex while fully dressed was so damn hot. Our wrangled clothes barely needed adjusting when we awkwardly untangled ourselves from each other. All she had to do was straighten her underwear under her skirt, and all I had to do was put my cock back in my pants.

  Where it should’ve fucking stayed to begin with.

  I didn’t think the post-orgasmic guilt would kick in so fast.

  Even worse? Realising the condom broke.

  “Reece? Uh, we have a bit of a situation. You’re on the pill, right?” Great way to break the awkward silence. By making it more awkward.

  “What? Why?”

&n
bsp; “The condom broke.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck. How do condoms break?” she yelled.

  “Hey, whoa, chill out. It happens sometimes. We’re okay, right?”

  “I’m not on the pill. It sends me mental. All hormonal birth control sends me crazy.”

  This is Reece when she’s not hormonal? God help the world.

  “So, you’re not … we’re not … covered?” I stammered.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m pretty sure asking this is the equivalent of asking you to kick me in the balls, but where in your cycle—”

  She held up her hand to stop me from finishing.

  I nodded. “Right. Balls. Kicking. Got it. Not another word.”

  “Timing isn’t great,” she said with a small voice.

  “Well, there’s that late-night pharmacy up the street, right? Morning after pill?”

  She stared at me, completely unmoving, blinking as if I’d asked a confusing question.

  “Reece? Are you okay?” I tried to approach her, but she stumbled backwards, flinching away from me.

  Her back hit the wall and she slid down to the ground. Her knees came up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. “Oh my God. I’ve fucked everything up. What the hell is wrong with me? I always fuck everything up.” Tears started to flow, and she wiped her nose with her hand.

  I sank to my knees in front of her. “You haven’t fucked anything up. We made a mistake. People make mistakes all the time.”

  “Cheating on my fiancé is one of those mistakes that isn’t forgivable. So is sitting by, watching as your husband falls deeper and deeper into depression and not doing anything to help him. All I did to Cole while we were married was nag him. Is it any wonder he became an alcoholic on my watch? And here I am, going into another marriage. What is wrong with me?”

  Oh, geez. “Cole’s alcoholism is not your fault. You know that, right? Neither is what happened to you guys. Cole never should’ve laid a hand on you.” I wanted to kill him the night I found out he’d thrown her against the wall in a drunken stupor. We all knew he had demons from his childhood, but none of us thought he’d do something like that. He was clean now—he got counselling and sobered up—but I hated that Reece suffered because of him.

  She shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t so selfish and self-centred half the time, I would’ve noticed before things got to the point they did. I could’ve helped Cole instead of pushing him over the edge. The night it happened, I told him he’d turned into his father. What kind of wife would do that?”

  My hands went to her knees, rubbing soothingly. “How did we start talking about Cole? It’s ancient history, right?” The last thing I wanted to talk about was Cole after what we just did.

  “But here I am, being self-destructive again.” She laughed but then immediately broke out into a sob. “Will I ever learn?”

  “Maybe this was the wakeup call you needed. Maybe this happened because you know Paul’s not the one for you.”

  “I can’t not marry him. That’s not an option.”

  My brow furrowed. “Why’s it not an option?”

  “Paul’s good to me. He has … stability.”

  My hands froze on her knees. I was sure I misheard. “Did you seriously just tell me you’re marrying someone for money?”

  “What? No! I mean he’s down to earth and stable. Like mentally. He doesn’t have an alcoholic father who beat him, and he doesn’t have any vices. He’ll be good to Cody, and—”

  “Reece, are you marrying Paul because he’s the anti-Cole?”

  “He’ll be good for me. And for Cody.”

  Was she convincing me or herself of that?

  “Who said Paul will be good for you? You or your overbearing parents?” I remembered how they were from when we were in school.

  With the way Reece glared at me, I knew I was right on the money.

  “Do I have to give you a lecture about being twenty-seven years old? Pretty sure you’re at an age you can tell your parents to fuck off and they can’t ground you.”

  She threw her head back on the wall behind her. “You don’t get it. Do you know what it’s like to be the screw-up in the family? My sister is perfect. She’s a GP, and her husband is an obstetrician. Two doctors. My brother is a professor of physics, for crying out loud, and he’s two years younger than me. He makes Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory look like a dumbass. I got pregnant at nineteen, became a single mother at twenty-three, I’ve never had a proper job, and I’ve been reliant on someone else my entire life. I’m a disappointment. Marrying Paul … maybe my family will finally stop looking at me like I’ve failed at life. He’s a successful lawyer, and he wants to marry me.”

  “How does marrying someone mean you’re not a failure? Does a piece of paper declaring you’re not single constitute as success this day and age? I figured being happy and living the life you want to lead would be more indicative of success than that.”

  She pierced me with her blue eyes and stared as if I’d said the most philosophical thing in the world. I thought it was a standard principle.

  Do what you want. Be happy. Simple.

  “We need to forget this ever happened,” she said.

  I nodded. “I figured that as soon as you started crying after we were done. All the ladies cry after getting a piece of this.” I leaned back and gestured to my body.

  I was trying to lighten up a shitty situation. She didn’t appreciate it, and I wasn’t really shocked about that.

  She did manage a fake smile though. “You know that’s not why—”

  “I know. I just don’t know what to say right now. Thanks for the orgasm is weird. Let’s remain friends is cliché. Make sure you get the morning after pill is what an asshole would say.”

  “God, I’m so sorry I dragged you into my emotional crap.”

  “What’s really going on? This seems like it’s more than cold feet.”

  She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Right now, I feel like I’m pretending. I don’t act like me at home. What if Paul doesn’t like the real Reece? I ask myself that nearly every day, and then that makes me try harder to be the perfect fiancée and the perfect woman. Do you know how exhausting it is trying to be perfect?”

  “Lucky for me, I came already perfected.” Another failed joke. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “We’ve known each other since we were twelve, Reecie. That means you’re allowed to hit me up with emotional crap any time you want. But remember, I’m a dude. So most likely I’ll reply with inappropriate jokes or continually nod my head as if I’m listening but won’t be.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me Reecie. I hated it when we were kids, and I hate it now.”

  “Sure thing, Reecie.”

  Her face lit up as a genuine smile crossed her face. “You’re an ass.”

  “Am not. I’m the nice one of our group.”

  “Only because the others are super-assholes.”

  “Like superheroes? Their superpowers are going through chicks as often as they change their underwear?”

  “Don’t know how much of a superpower that is.”

  I held out my hand for her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  She didn’t take it. “Where?”

  “Pharmacy, and then I’m putting you in a cab.”

  “Home. With Paul.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

  I could tell she was trying not to cry again. “One problem at a time, okay?”

  She let me help her up, and I took her into my arms for a hug.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” She stepped away from me.

  I gave her a single nod. “This never happened.”

  Welcome back to the friend zone.

  2

  REECE

  As I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, I wanted to vomit. Again. The nausea was the first sign something wasn’t right. It was the reason I rushed out to
buy a pregnancy test.

  I wasn’t due to get my period for two more days, but I knew my body, and I remembered all those signs from when I was pregnant before. Tender breasts, dizziness, inexplicable nausea, and exhaustion. I had them all already, and I’d only be a few weeks along.

  When Spencer and I ambled our way out of the bar that night, we walked in silence to the late-night pharmacy. Which wasn’t open as late as we expected. They were closed.

  After another round of expletives from me, Spencer walked me to a nearby taxi rank, and I promised him I’d get the morning after pill first thing the next day.

  He kissed my cheek and put me in a cab.

  His lips torched my skin.

  Even weeks later, I swore I could still feel his lips on me, as if I was branded by his mouth.

  By the time I made it to a pharmacy the next day, it was late afternoon. Cody had soccer in the morning, and Paul came with me.

  I was only focused on covering up the fact I had an affair, so when I finally got my hands on the pill, I thought I could put it behind me and go into this marriage with a clean slate. A fresh start. At least in my mind.

  It was hard to do that when the embryo that was half of me and most likely half of Spence was attaching itself to my uterine wall.

  Look who paid attention in sex ed. If only I’d learned something from it.

  The clerk at the pharmacy said the effectiveness of the pill lowered the longer there was between having sex and taking it, but I thought I’d be okay. I was still within the recommended window. Obviously, I was wrong.

  The thought of abortion crossed my mind for the briefest second, but I knew immediately it wasn’t something I could do. I’d suffered a miscarriage before, and I couldn’t intentionally terminate a pregnancy, personally experiencing how much it hurt to lose a baby.

  Which meant I only had one option. I had to come clean. Perhaps this was the universe’s way to make me face what I wasn’t willing to weeks ago.

  I couldn’t marry Paul.

  But what did that mean for me and Cody? We had no money and nowhere to go.

  “Reece, hon,” Paul said from behind the bathroom door.