Freeing Destiny (Fate #2) (3 page)

It was quite presumptuous for this man who was a stranger up until today. But even still, he was spot on. A calming surge of reassurance washed over me as I realized he could tell what I was thinking. Somehow he could read me. I liked that. I decided not to give him the usual standoffish attitude I was used to throwing out there. Maybe he wasn’t flirting. Maybe he was truly concerned by my despondency, which no one else had noticed since they were wrapped up in their own bubbles. “I always worry about her. It comes with the territory, but I do think they make a wonderful pair. They were meant for each other.” I smiled, believing my words to the core.

His smile widening, his eyes hypnotizing me, Jack extended his palm and asked, “Would you like to dance?” His bold invitation hooked me from the get-go, but I didn’t want to break into Mom and Caleb’s spotlight just yet.

Unwilling to decline his refreshing companionship, I countered, “How about a drink instead?” A shot of something stiff and fiery might pump some life back into me and eventually prepare me for the dance Jack had requested.

“Deal.” He nodded and hooked his arm with mine.

He ushered me to the bar like two old, familiar friends; I felt oddly comfortable being man-handled by him. I glanced down to where our arms intertwined and he caught me checking out his bulging bicep.

“Sorry, just thought you could use a friend,” he admitted, releasing my arm as we continued to walk. “You looked a little . . . preoccupied.”

Besides his insanely good looks and the unnerving effect he had over my body, I also had to give him props for how perceptive he was. “What, are you a psychologist or something?” I joked. I wanted—needed—to know more about him.

“No,” he laughed, running his hand over his overgrown five o’clock scruff. “But I
was
a bartender for a while. Kind of the same thing.”

I nodded as I raised my hand to get
our
bartender’s attention. “Oh, did you work with Caleb?”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure, doll. Working with friends always causes problems. Besides, bartending was never my passion.”

“Well, what
is
your passion?” Something deep inside me begged him to say
blonde bridesmaids
. I bit my lip, waiting for his response.

“I have many, but if you want to know what I do for a living, you could just ask. Or is that part of your mysterious charm?”

“Me? Mysterious?” It was my turn to laugh. Maybe he wasn’t as perceptive as I thought. I was usually an open book. My eyes were the windows to my soul, as Mom liked to put it.

“Stella,” Jack leaned closer. His tuxedo-clad arm settled around my shoulders. I really liked the way my name rolled off his tongue. And I loved the way his body molded with mine.

“Yes, Jack,” I whispered. It was a plea. Suddenly I was ready to say yes to anything he asked of me.

Caressing my bare skin with his thumb, he answered, “I meant it in a good way. You’re mysterious and beautiful and just one look at you makes me want to peel apart your layers and find out who you are.”

Wow!
If my mouth hadn’t already felt stuffed with a giant wad of cotton candy
that
definitely did the trick.

I gulped back my nerves and said a silent prayer of thanks when the bartender interrupted us. “What can I get you?”

Words. Courage. A normal heart rate.
Were any of those on the drink menu? ’Cause I sure could’ve used a potent dose of all three.

Visibly sensing how bowled over I was by what he said, Jack took charge in ordering. “A glass of Pinot for the lady, and I’ll have a . . .
Stella
.” His grin grew so wide it was comical. His joke should’ve made me laugh, but the innuendo got the best of me and made me squirm in my seat.

Arching a brow, I gathered my unraveled nerves and stared into his baby blues. “Seriously? Of all the beers?”

“Serious, my friend. Stella happens to be my favorite. It’s a classic, golden beauty that satisfies my thirst. And when it’s fresh, crisp taste tickles and caresses my tongue, I lap up every drop and don’t let any of it go to waste.”

Gulp!
Like, literally. Where was my Pinot? I needed that sucker.
Now!

“I’m sorry,” Jack finally relented through a gritty, growled chuckle. “I’m coming on way too strong and I must sound like such a dick. It’s just . . . you’ve had my attention all day, and when I saw you watching your mom and Caleb, you looked a little . . . sad, I guess. I didn’t like seeing you that way. I thought talking to you would make you laugh. Now I’ve gone and made you uncomfortable at your mother’s wedding.” He stared at his clasped hands, the ones that were no longer wrapped around my shoulders. I wanted them back there. I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted him to continue flirting and make me feel the things no other guy had ever made me feel before.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Jack. I’m glad you’re here.” And I was. I welcomed the distance from Nina and Ryan and Mom and Caleb, enjoying
my
time with someone who made
me
smile.

“So, why so sad?”

Did I want to pour it all out to him? Something urged me to spill it, but another part of me didn’t want to reveal all my insecurities to someone I’d only known for a few hours. “This day is bittersweet, that’s all.”

“That’s a strong word for a beautiful day, doll. I’m here to listen. That’s what bartenders do best, remember?”

“But you’re not a bartender anymore.”

“This much is true, but old habits die hard. Lay all your troubles on me, Stella. I promise not to judge.”

The way he said it sounded so sincere. Would it kill me to open up to him? I’d probably never see him again after tonight. Soon I’d be a New Yorker. Unless Jack planned to fly out to see Caleb often, the chances of facing my new
friend
again were slim to none. Confessing to a stranger seemed an easy enough thing to get away with. “I miss my dad. The anniversary of his death is this week and I get all mushy and moody around this time. Add all this hoopla into the mix, and . . . I’m kind of a wreck and just trying to hold it together. I’m so happy for my mom and Caleb. He’s a great guy, he’s good for her, but—”

“But he’s not your dad.”

“No, he’s definitely not my dad.” I shook my head, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to gush. “Oh, man! I don’t want to be that girl. I hate when people cry at weddings other than out of joy for the newlyweds.” I
so
didn’t want to be that girl; the jealous girl.
Or
the girl who turned on the faucet of confessions to a handsome man I just met.

Placing a hand on mine, Jack reassured me, “Stella, I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”

“I’m sure Caleb’s told you
plenty
,” I exaggerated. My stepfather wasn’t your run of the mill ‘nice guy.’ He was a
saint
for putting up with all the crazy that unfolded when he walked into my mother’s life. For that I was truly grateful and had become close with him, but Jack was his best friend, and if Caleb had any qualms about our family, he’d probably gone and voiced them to him.

Jack sipped his Stella—I giggled at the idea of how many jokes I could make about that—and shook his head as he placed the beer back on the bar top. “Other than that he loves your mother so much he’d walk to the ends of the earth for her and that he really digs you and Nina, he hasn’t said too much, actually.”

“Hmm,” was my only comeback. Was he telling the truth or just trying to placate me?

Either way, he was leaning close again and his musky scent infiltrated my senses. “As much as I love the sound of your humming as it vibrates from that tiny, delicate throat of yours . . .” He traced his index finger along the hollow of my throat, causing me to swallow my anxieties with a mouthful of wine. “ . . . You’re wrong, doll. He adores all of you. When you love someone the way Caleb loves your mother, everything else melts away. The past is in the past; he’s only concerned with making her future happy. Yours too, believe it or not.”

This man was like a walking fortune cookie and I loved it. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, setting my mind at ease while making the rest of my body flutter in anticipation. “I do believe it. I mean, I want to believe it.”

“So, believe it! Simple as that.”

I raised my glass and clinked it against Jack’s beer bottle. “I’ll drink to that.” Allowing the easy conversation with Jack to relieve all my earlier concerns, I relaxed and took a deep breath. It felt as if I was releasing a heavy weight from my shoulders. Feeling better already, I was finally up for some fun. This was a celebration after all. It was time to start
celebrating
. “Hey, how ’bout a shot?”

“What’s your poison?” he asked, rubbing his palms together as he eyed the bartender.

“You pick. You haven’t been wrong since the first word you said to me.”

“I guess you should just call me Mr. Right, then.”

Jack

Oh, this girl. This soft, sentimental, beautiful, intelligent girl. I could sit here all night and just stare at her, but talking to her was pretty great too.

When her mother and Caleb shared their first dance, I could sense a sadness in Stella’s eyes that went deeper than wedding day tears.
That
was my chance! My chance to make my move, talk to the blonde beauty, and get to know her a little better.

An hour later and I wanted to know even more. I was sure I’d never get enough of her musical laugh, her melodic voice, and that smile that radiated joy when she spoke of something she was passionate about.

At the current moment, she was talking about New York. She couldn’t wait to settle back in her hometown, start her career as a fashion designer, and make a name for herself. At the mere mention of her move, my heart slumped in my chest. I hardly knew her, but I didn’t want her to leave California. I was pretty sure that after only an hour of chatting with Stella, I wanted a lot more than entertaining banter. A friendship, for starters. She was good people. The kind that rubbed off on you and just made you happy by being around them.

“When do you leave?” I asked hoping she’d say never.

“In a few weeks, actually. We weren’t supposed to move back until the end of the semester, but Nina and I landed internships and we can finish up our credits next semester at NYU with Caleb.” She cleared her throat before continuing with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, I know. Sharing a campus with my stepdad who’s only a few years older than me . . . not cool, but it is what it is.”

“I only see one problem with this scenario, and it’s
not
going to school with your stepdad.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“That you’re leaving in two weeks.”

Her eyes glistened as she focused on my lips. I licked them, hoping it would send her the message that I wanted to taste hers.

She squirmed in her seat and readjusted the hem of her dress—distinct indicators that I
had
gotten my message across, loud and clear. “Why would you care if I leave? Before today you didn’t even know me.”

“Well, now I do and I want to know more.” I laid a hand on her bare knee and let my thumb rub in circles against her silky, tanned skin.

“There you are!” Her aunt came barreling over to us with her hands in the air. “It’s time for the speeches and Nina’s freaking out.”

Stella stared at my hand on her knee and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she took in a breath and huffed in her aunt’s direction. “Yup. Ready.”

Finally noticing the placement of my hand and the way our chairs were angled close together, her aunt tapped her forehead, miming a ‘
doh
.’ “I’m sorry, Stells. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can stall Nina. We can wait until—”

Yes! All very clever suggestions, Auntie. Go away and let me have more time with your stunning niece. The other one can handle the speeches. This one’s all mine . . . for now.

“No, it’s okay, Aunt Gi. Jack and I—”

Finish the sentence, doll
:
Jack and I were having the time of our lives. I was just about to skip this shindig and spend the next two weeks wrapped in his strong, muscular arms. Sorry, gotta go. Tell Mom and Caleb I love them.

“We were just finishing up our drinks.” Stella stood, smoothing her dress as my hand fell from her warm skin, leaving it cold and empty without her body underneath it.

“’kay, let’s go.” Her aunt finished off the last of Stella’s wine and then grabbed her niece’s hand, pulling her away from me.

I prayed to God my time with her wasn’t up. There were daughterly duties she’d have to tend to for the rest of the reception. It was a small gathering so the guests would notice if Stella and I disappeared. In a spontaneous burst of fear of never seeing her again, mixed with a heart thumping desire to spend more time together, I grabbed her free hand, creating a tug of war between me and her aunt.

“Stella, what are you doing after the wedding?”

Her eyes went wide. Her aunt’s eyes went Golem-wide. But my smile was by far the widest thing in this room when she replied, “Hanging out with you.”