Chapter 8

Chance

Collin: Heads up, brother. You’re fucked.

I’d barely finished reading the confusing text from Collin when my office door was thrown open and Devon sauntered in with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Well hello to you, too,” I said flatly, as she took a seat and made herself comfortable. “Want to tell me why I’m getting cryptic texts from your fiancé?”

If that smile of hers got any bigger, I was afraid it would swallow her face. “Because he was there when I got some information that tickled at my need to matchmake.”

I dropped my head against my chair and rolled my eyes skyward. “Not this again,” I groaned. Ever since what Devon and I had morphed into a friendship that extended to her inner circle, the woman had tried to set me up with every available female in the city of Manhattan. No one, especially me, had the heart to tell her she sucked at it. I liked my balls where they were, attached to my body, and Devon was known to have a nasty mean streak at times. The last thing I wanted to do was insult her.

No… wait. The last thing I wanted to do was go on another ill-partnered blind date.

“Hey, now” she said, pulling me back to the present. “I know I’ve made a few questionable setups in the past—”

“A few?” My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Dev, you set me up with a crazy cat lady. A legit crazy cat lady. The woman had ten cats! She had pictures of them on her phone and spoke about them like they were her children! Never mind the fact that I’m allergic!”

“In my defense, I didn’t know that at the time,” she shot back.

“Of course you didn’t,” I deadpanned. “Because you’d just met her at Starbucks the day before you forced me into the date. You didn’t know her at all.”

She shrugged like it was nothing. “I thought she was pretty.”

I narrowed my eyes into slits. “She was certifiable. When I told her I was more of a dog person, she acted like I’d just announced I wanted to skin her alive and wear her flesh as a suit.”

She returned my glare and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I really think you’ll like this one.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I murmured.

“Oh yeah?” Her glare melted into a sly, knowing smirk. “Well, if you don’t like her, then why’d you take her shopping for a new wardrobe, huh? I don’t know any man willing to do that for a woman that he isn’t either related to or interested in.”

If you listened closely enough, you’d probably be able to hear tires screeching to a halt in my brain. “Wait. What?”

“That’s right,” Devon answered triumphantly. “I know all about your little shopping trip with Melany. And I know that means you like her,” she finished in a singsong voice.

Fuck my life. Seriously. “It’s not what you think,” I stated. Although, she wasn’t totally off base. I did like Melany, just not how Devon was thinking. She was sweet, funny, and completely sexy. But she was 100 percent off limits. Once again, I was in the friend-zone with a woman. Only this time, I was actually trying to help her land another guy.

“But—” she began to object, but I held up my hand to stop her.

“Seriously, Dev. We’re just friends. That’s it.” I left out the part where I thought, Even though I’d love nothing more than to hike one of those new skirts up around her hips while I find out exactly what her lower lips taste like. There’d be no point in saying any of that out loud.

Devon pouted like a child who’d just discovered Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy weren’t real all at once. “But you’d be so cute together.”

“I’m pretty sure she has a thing for someone at her office.” Shit. The words fell from my mouth without any thought whatsoever.

Devon’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “What? Who?”

There was no way in hell I was going to be the one to let Melany’s secret out. She’d harbored that secret for five years without anyone finding out. Something told me she’d never forgive me if I let her crush on Logan slip. “I don’t know,” I answered, staring at my computer screen in an effort to avoid Devon’s eyes. “She didn’t say that. It’s just the impression I got.”

Her brow furrowed skeptically. “How’d you get that impression?”

Damn women and their twenty questions! “I don’t know. I just did. I’m intuitive like that. Don’t you have some work to do?”

She gave a dramatic huff and an eye roll. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to push me out to avoid talking about Melany?”

I dropped my hands to my desk and finally met her gaze with a grin. “Look at that. You’re intuitive, too!”

“Oh, ha ha. Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.” She stood from the chair and started for the door, but stopped before crossing the threshold. “You’re a great guy, Chance. I just want you to find someone who makes you happy.”

My expression softened. “I’m doing just fine, Devon, promise.” And I was. I never lacked for dates. Unfortunately, the women who’d warmed my bed in recent months didn’t have any staying power. I usually grew tired of them as soon as I got off. But Devon didn’t need to know that. Since she’d gotten together with Collin, she saw the world through rose-colored glasses. I wasn’t going to be the one to take them off.

Shooting me one last warm smile, she turned and exited, pulling my door closed behind her. However, her mention of Melany lingered long after she was gone, and I couldn’t help but think that the guy she’d set her sights on wasn’t worth her time. For Christ’s sake, the bastard hadn’t even known her actual name, let alone paid any attention to her over the past five years.

It wasn’t until she’d changed the way she looked physically that he finally noticed her. He hadn’t bothered to see the incredible woman underneath the baggy, monochromatic colors. If he’d taken the time to get to know her, he’d have discovered how funny and charming Melany was.

He didn’t deserve her. But that wasn’t my call. Melany was determined to get his attention, and it wasn’t my place to try and make her see things differently. Even if I thought she could do so much better.

Melany

I SAT IN Constance and Frank’s living room, keeping their kids occupied while she started on dinner. I hadn’t wanted to go home and deal with my mother after a long day at work, so I’d done what I tended to do when her insults and verbal abuse began to weigh on me…

I escaped to my best friend’s house.

It was sad, really, the fact that a thirty-one-year-old woman didn’t want to go home because she didn’t want to deal with her own mother. I knew I should’ve just moved out, but the guilt at leaving her all alone to wallow in her own filth and misery always stopped me. She might not be a nice person, and I might not have liked her, but she was still my mother.

“All right,” Constance said on a relieved sigh, as she made her way into the living room. “Chicken’s baking so I have a few minutes to chat.” Sitting on the couch next to me, she handed me one of the glasses of red wine she was holding. “Drink up,” she said before taking her own hearty swig. “You need it before going home.”

I snorted before bringing the glass to my lips and taking a sip. I let the faint taste of grapes rest on my tongue before swallowing it down. It had to be said that my BFF had great taste in wine.

Constance knew the moment I’d walked through her door why I was hesitant to go home. The navy dress that had garnered so many compliments that day would have given the old witch all the ammunition she needed to accuse me of being a slut as soon as she laid eyes on it. If I waited her out long enough, she’d drink herself delirious and would be oblivious to my return home.

“I just don’t feel like putting up with her S-H-I-T tonight.” I took care to spell out my curse words when I was around the boys. After I made the mistake of dropping the F-bomb one time, we were all walking on eggshells. Those three soaked up curse words like little sponges.

“And you shouldn’t have to,” Constance said in a low, angry tone. “You look stunning in that dress. A decent mother would compliment her daughter. Not tear her down every chance she gets.”

“Yeah well, that’s never going to happen,” I sighed.

“Because she’s jealous. You’re beautiful and smart, and she knows you’re so much better than she ever was, or ever will be.”

I couldn’t help but snort again because even though she spoke adamantly, I didn’t believe what she was saying. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think I was ugly, necessarily. But I certainly didn’t consider myself beautiful. I was plain, just… me. Nothing special.

“Don’t you snort at me!” she declared. “You are beautiful! And you’d realize that if you’d just get out from under your mom’s thumb.”

“Connie, please—”

“No!” she interrupted. “No arguing. Boys!” she shouted, getting all three of her sons’ attention at once. “Isn’t Auntie Melly beautiful?”

“She’s the mostest beautiful auntie in the whole wide world!” Landon shouted.

“She’s so pretty I’m gonna marry her when I grow up!” Deacon answered enthusiastically.

“Pretty! Pretty! Pretty!” two-year-old Patrick clapped.

My face scorched red, but I appreciated Constance’s efforts. And I loved those boys something fierce.

“One of these days, you’re going to start believing people when they tell you how amazing you are,” Constance stated. “And I can’t wait for that day to come.”

I set my wineglass on the coffee table and leaned in to give her a hug. “You know I love you, right?”

“And I love you, too,” she replied, returning my hug. We stayed in that position until we heard a distinct crashing sound. We whipped apart and looked to find Patrick with an excited grin on his face as he clapped and pointed to the wine he’d just spilled all over the carpet.

“Son of a B-I-T-C-H,” Constance groused.

I smiled and moved from the couch. “You get back to dinner and I’ll clean this mess up.”

She headed for the kitchen while grumbling about needing hardwood floors as I laughed and went to grab a towel and clean up the spilled wine.

Over the next few hours, Frank arrived home from work, we ate dinner, and I helped Constance get the boys ready for bed. Finally, the coast was clear for me to head home. Mom would either be passed out, hunting for a one-night stand, or too drunk to function.

I left with a promise to Constance that I’d finally consider moving out and getting a place of my own. By the time I got home, I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall face first into my warm, cozy bed for a good night’s sleep.

Maybe I should get my own place…