Chance on Love (36 page)

Amber!
“Uh, thanks, Carly. If you’ll excuse me...” He spotted Love’s friend with a small group of people near the back of the room. He walked toward them, but stopped to look back. “Oh, and Carly?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“I forgive you.”

She smiled. “Th—”

“Because you’re right. Love really is going to make you suffer enough as it is.” Chance smirked just as her smile slipped.

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

Chuckling, he made his way to Amber. If anyone would get the scoop on Love’s true feelings for him, it would be her. He waved, trying to catch her attention. Finally, he succeeded.

She grinned as she rushed over to him. “It’s the schmuck,” she said excitedly.

Frowning, Chance looked around before pointing to himself in question.

She waved his confusion off. “Yes, you.” Beaming, she patted him on the chest. “It’s good to—” Hiccup. “It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks, you too.” He hated to be rude, but there was no time for small talk. “Have you seen her? She
is
here, right?”

Amber held up her glass. “You have
got
to try this.” She took a deep breath and swayed to the left slightly.

Chance instinctively reached out to catch her should she fall, but she managed to recover in time.

“It’s alcololic—
holic
punch from Belin—” She looked up. “This is my
song
!” She began dancing away from him.

Chance caught her by her free hand and gently spun her back around to face him. “Wait.”

“Oh,” she said, her words continuing to slur, “you wanna dance? Come on.”

“Amber, listen to me.” He bent down to look her directly in the eye and spoke slowly. “I need to find Love.”

She gave him a sad smile and caressed his cheek. “So do I...so do a lot of people,” she said as she nodded knowingly. “The key is—” Hiccup. “—to keep it once you find it.” Amber lifted her arms in the air and swayed them to the music. “This is my
song,
” she repeated before she shimmied away again. This time he just watched, in confusion, as she lost herself in the crowd.

He arched his eyebrow. “What the—”

“Don’t mind her,” Kenny said, coming to stand next to him. “She’s, ah...drunk as hell.”

“To put it mildly.” Chance turned to him and they shook hands. “How’ve you been?”

“Great, thanks to you. So what are you doing back here, Mr. Valentine?”

He gave him a halfhearted smile. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” There was no point in hiding his shame from Kenneth Thomas. He was sure the man guessed more than most people knew. And he
was
someone Love trusted. “I came here to see her.”

He nodded. “Then see her.”

“I’m trying to talk myself out of that.”

“Why?”

“She hates me, for one thing.”

Kenny gazed out at the dancing couples. “Don’t know that that’s true.”

“What
do
you know?”

He shrugged. “I may know she was in a hurry to make things right with you once I explained to her that you didn’t want her fired.” Kenny gave him a fleeting look. “But you’d left already.”

Chance’s heart began an attempt to hammer its way from his chest. He’d given up on her. That was the way she’d see it even if the truth was, she’d given up on
him
by not giving him an opportunity to explain. “So she didn’t hate me, but she does now,” he said to himself.

“Don’t know that I said that.”

Chance looked at him blankly, and Kenny smiled.

A petite woman approached, wagging her finger. “Kenneth, don’t think you’re getting out of dancing with me tonight.”

He bent down—way down—to give her a kiss. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He turned to Chance. “Mr.— Uh, Chance, this is my wife, Gwen. Gwen, this is Chance Valentine.”

Chance reached out his hand. “It’s lovely to finally meet—” The woman’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m sorry, uh,” he looked at Kenny for help before gazing down at the woman again, “are you okay?”

Without warning, Gwen pulled him closer.

Chance widened his eyes.

She gave him a tight embrace. “Thank you, Mr. Valentine. Those words aren’t nearly enough, but they’re all I have.” Her face pressed against his chest, muffling her voice, but he still understood.

He returned her hug. “You’re more than welcome, Mrs.—”

“Nonsense,” she said, stepping back and dabbing her eyes. “You save a woman’s husband’s life, you get to call that woman by her first name.”

He smiled at her and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Then, you’re very welcome, Gwen.”

Looking at Kenny, she nodded. “This is the one. Come on,” she called back as she headed for the dance floor.

“The one what?”

“For Stephanie. She’s kind of our daughter so we tend to keep up with her love life. We haven’t liked any of her exes.”

“Clayton Morrison the Third?”

Kenny gave him an ‘are you serious’ look before chuckling. “We can’t stand that damn man.” He walked off to join Gwen on the dance floor.

Chance smiled. “That makes three of us,” he said to himself. With his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, he knew he had to look as dejected as he felt. He walked the room, always on the lookout for a glimpse of her face. Nothing. A slow song started to play. He was momentarily hopeful and then... He sighed. It was one of those damned eighties songs.

He stopped to watch the couples dance. Huh. He’d always known they’d like the sixties stuff, but they didn’t seem to hate Love’s weird favorites. Maybe the brat had a point.
Maybe
. As he stood there watching people dance, he listened to the song’s words. Of course, it was about love. Weren’t most songs, in one way or another?

Chance continued to fix his attention on the smiling, happy couples, but he no longer saw them. Instead, he thought of the times he had danced with Love. At Mister’s, when she was still just an exasperating pain, and that time in the office, after she’d become the center of his entire world, his heart. There was no way he intended to go the rest of his life, miserable, without her.

If she hated him... Well, she’d just have to get over it. As shameful as it may be, he would beg—get down on his knees and
beg
—her to forgive him. It was a relief beyond words that his brother wasn’t around to witness the lengths Chance was ready to go to for this woman.

His grandfather was right; pride didn’t mean a thing when it came to matters of the heart. After all, Love was the one who should be hunting
him
down to beg for forgiveness. But she wouldn’t do that. Because she was insufferable. She was insufferable and complicated and...he was madly in love with her.

A man approached wearing a big grin. “Hey!”

Chance gave him a weak smile. “How’s it goin’?” He turned his attention back to the dance floor, but he felt the stranger’s gaze on him.

“Something wrong?” the man asked.

“Forgive me, but I’m not in the mood for chit chat.” Chance glanced at him. “Sorry.” He did a double take and narrowed his eyes. “Frank?”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah!”

Giving him a genuine smile then, Chance shook his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“S’okay,” he said, grinning. “You weren’t really paying me much attention at first.”

“A lot on my mind.” He sighed. “Love invited you?”

Frank drew his eyebrows together for a second. “Oh, Stephie.” He nodded. “Yep. I’m her date. Can you believe it? I’m done with detox, and the sober living home you set me up with is working out great.” Smiling, he shook his head. “It’s a little strange having a curfew at my age, though.”

A rush of relief flowed through Chance. “
You’re
her date?” His smile broadened. “I’m glad to hear it.” He looked the older man up and down. “You look really...good.”

“You have no idea how much you helped me, man. I’m getting my life together, slowly but surely. All thanks to you.”

“No. This is all you. And I’m beyond grateful—for Love’s sake.”

“You love her.”

He just looked at him. It hadn’t sounded like a question.

“And thank goodness for that because that other fella’s about to try my patience. Last thing a recovering alcoholic needs is a reason to drink. And he’s a good one, lemme tell ya.”

Chance’s shoulders tensed. “Who?”

“Clay, Clayton...” Frank shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Where is he?”

“Somewhere with Stephie—in the lobby, I think. Been following her around like a puppy ever since we got here. She’d had enough so she asked for some time alone with him. I made myself scarce.” Frank leaned in. “Between us, I think she just might kick his ass.”

Chance’s entire body tensed. “Not if I do first.”

****

Stephanie waited until they made it a reasonable distance from the ballroom entrance before she spun around. “What the
fuck
do you want?” she asked in an angry whisper.

Clay didn’t miss a beat. “You.”

“Yeah? Too bad. Now, stop following me around, staring at me like a psycho before I get a restraining order.”

Clay was undeterred. “God, I love you, Steph.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her in for a kiss while she pushed against his chest.

“You may want to get a restraining order of your own,” she said lightly.

“Why would I want to do that?”

Her answer to that question was a swift, upward movement of her knee.

“Shit,” he yelled, letting go of her immediately. Groaning, he doubled over as he grabbed his crotch. He looked up at her with watery eyes. “Fuck, are you crazy?”

With her hands on her hips, she looked down at him with disinterest. “Was that rhetorical?”

“I hope so since I knew the answer to that question within five minutes of meeting you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. That voice had been etched into her brain, her soul. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and sucked in a sharp breath. Not close enough to touch, but still... There he was—her schmuck.

Chapter 42

Only the desire to slap him silly overshadowed Stephanie’s urge to run over and launch herself into his arms. No doubt he was there to put in an appearance on corporate’s behalf and just thought it would be nice to say hi. Because their time together had only meant something to
her
.

Bastard.

She gave him a fierce stare. “What the hell are you doing here, Valentine?”

Chance slowly made his way over, all the while keeping his eyes on her. “I came out to hurt old Clay here, but it looks like you’ve handled that already.” His gaze took an unhurried tour of her body, causing a delicious shiver down her spine.

“You’re beautiful, Love.” He finally tore his focus from her to Clay, who’d managed to stand up straight again. “Do you mind? I need to talk with her alone.”

Clay gave him a sideways glance. “I wasn’t done talking to her myself.”

“You were,” Stephanie and Chance said in unison.

He ignored them. “I want to be with you, Steph.”

Chance folded his arms. “Get in line, pal,” he said wearily.

That got her attention. Had that meant what she thought it meant?

Clay squared his shoulders. “I’m not leaving until—”

Chance dropped his arms and took a step toward him. “Leave,” he said calmly, “or I swear to God, I
will
kick your ass.”

Clay looked at Stephanie for assistance. Smiling sweetly, she waved at him. “You—” He threw his hands up. “Whatever,” he said, storming off in a huff.

“And as for you,” Chance said, taking a few steps toward her, “there are a few things you need to know.”

That he was at the head of the line of men who want her?
Say it.

Instead, he said, “You’re a huge pain in the ass.”

“Excuse—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “No, I wasn’t finished. You didn’t want to listen to me before, but you
will
listen to me now.”

Seriously?
He not only wanted to insult her, he actually expected her to stick around for it? She sneered at him, mentally cursing herself for falling in love with such an arrogant dick. “Go to hell.” She walked past him and headed for the ballroom.

Chance grabbed her hand and spun her back around. “Damn it, stop.”

Stephanie looked down at his hand. The simple skin-to-skin contact was the single best thing she had felt since he’d last touched her.

As his chest heaved with emotion—anger, more than likely—he started again. “You’re a pain in the ass. You’re the rudest, most obscene woman I know.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. How stupid of her to hope he would profess his undying love. No matter how much she wished she could deny it, that was what she’d wanted more than anything.

Instead, he’d sought her out to get the last word in since she hadn’t given him an opportunity to do that the last time they’d spoken.

She couldn’t believe she’d had disgustingly sappy, ridiculous thoughts of marriage and—good Lord—maybe even kids with this man.

Kids!
She snatched her hand from his grasp. “
This
is what I needed to know?” Her voice climbed in volume. “That I’m a pain? That I’m rude?” She shoved his chest with all her might, but barely moved him. “I already knew that!”

Chance went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “You manage to complicate the simplest matters—like now. You drive me absolutely crazy...” He gently took her hand in his again. “And I miss you.”

She just stared at him as her lips trembled. “B-but you don’t even like me.”

“Sometimes I don’t.” Chance smirked. “But there’s not a second that goes by that I’m not in love with you.”

A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “
In
love?” she asked weakly.

“Which brings me to the next part of what I have to say.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t care if you hate me. I mean, I do. I’d rather you didn’t hate me. But you’ll just have to get over it. We’re going to be together, and that’s the end of it.”

She shook her head in disbelief as tears clouded her vision. “You’re the most arrogant asshole I’ve ever met, Valentine.”