Fated Desires

By Becky Flade

Jenna Gavin is searching for a fresh start, but more importantly, balance. Her heart, and perhaps the hands of fate, has led her and her young son to Trappers' Cove, Minnesota. Settling in the small, quirky town, she's not in the market for a casual relationship yet finds herself in one with the young widower next door.

Former shortstop, Gabriel Foxx, is drawn to his difficult new neighbor. The more the prickly divorcee attempts to keep him at arm's length, the more determined he is to break down her walls. He can't avoid the passion she inspires but he won't allow himself to feel more.

When friendship grows complicated by stronger emotions and mutual desire, it just isn't enough. Will love be worth the risk?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
• Release date: Oct 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463803516

Becky Flade

no biography available at this time

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Gabriel accepted the two frozen margaritas the nearly naked waiter offered and set them on a small, glass table. Drops of water slid down the sides of the glasses. Even condensation was lazy here. The sun was warm, and the surf crashed against the beach only yards away from his toes. The scent of suntan lotion infused the air with coconut.

"Hmm," he murmured. He loved Cancun.

"You always choose this memory," Cass said.

He squinted at his wife. Her bikini strained the bounds of propriety and desire tugged at him, swirling through a flash of pride she was his. He knew other men stared at his wife, as she knew other women stared at him. They laughed about it, secure in their mutual affection.

"It’s my favorite."

"You know this is only a recollection of a moment in time."

"Stop trying to ruin this for me. Sip your margarita, drip the condensation on my stomach, and I’ll chase you to the water’s edge, okay?"

"Sorry, handsome, not going to happen. It’s time for you to wake up."

"Do you know how much snow is out there?"

She smiled at him. The expression that had once lit him from inside instead caused an ache, a bereft pain like he’d lost a part of himself. Melancholy didn’t belong in this memory, damn it. He hated it when she screwed with his dreams.

She laughed this time—a treasured sound he’d never again hear while awake. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. She looked different. Not like she did on the beach in Cancun. But closer to the age she was when she…when she left him.

"I have to wake up, don’t I?"

"Always, my love. But today, your future waits for you."

Gabriel Foxx’s arm shot out to silence the bleating alarm. He rubbed sore eye sockets with the heels of his hands; they were gritty, as though the beach he’d dreamt of had thrown sand in his face. When he dropped his hands, sunlight bounced off his wedding band. He sighed while rubbing it with the pad of his thumb in a familiar habit. He should take it off. But he couldn’t bring himself to remove the ring, even though he knew how far away its delicate mate rested.

He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched. He was too sore for his age. The inches upon inches of frozen precipitation had caused his knee to ache for days now. He rubbed the offending joint, cursing one bad slide into home base as he did each morning. He had no reason to hide his nakedness; he lived alone despite his mother’s constant nagging to hire a live-in housekeeper. She couldn’t understand that between the cleaning woman that came by twice a week, the groundskeeper’s crew, the team working his crops, and the handful of reliable friends Gabriel had made in Trappers’ Cove, he was far from lonely.

After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, he wandered through the house, aiming for the kitchen. Second only to his home gym, this was his favorite room. The entire outside wall was enclosed in specially treated glass. He had an amazing view of the forest that buffeted his land, and he could just make out the edges of farmland he’d cleared for his crop. He stood in his kitchen, his back against the island, admiring his largesse as he swallowed down the first blessed hit of caffeine with a silent salute to the creator of the timing mechanism on his coffee pot. It may be cold outside, but the inside was cozy, the coffee was hot, and the snow dazzled. The view reminded him of a scene from an old Bing Crosby movie.

Gabe exchanged coffee for a cold bottle of water and headed to his gym. He preferred to start his days with a workout and a swim before he showered. He found the exercise particularly cathartic following one of his special dreams. When he got to the basement, he threw on a pair of shorts; he had no reason to cover himself, but he wasn’t comfortable lifting weights bare-assed. By the third rep of thirty deadlifts, he had worked up a sweat and put the visit from Cassidy behind him.

* * *

The snowmobile zipped over the frozen tundra. Not quite the same as being on his Harley but damn close. Going fast, ever since the first time he’d ridden a roller coaster, had been the only experience to come close to the thrill of baseball. While he played in college and later in the big leagues, he’d had to be careful with his extra-curricular activities. Now his game days were behind him, so he indulged.

He popped the brake and drifted to a stop on the crest of a hill. He laughed triumphantly as snow sprayed out in a graceful arcing wave. It may be cold, but it can be fun.

His breath plumed. He took off his gloves and tugged his hat lower over his ears before adjusting his goggles. Damn, but it was cold. Already the skin on his fingers had begun to burn as he hurried to put on his gloves.

A flash of color drew his attention.

A woman wrapped in a bright red parka disappeared into a quaint house where the former owners had built a deck onto the back. It was the only non-traditional feature to the English-style cottage and wasn’t at all visible from the road. He appreciated their foresight in keeping it hidden, even if he didn’t enjoy the mar to the architecture.

Must be the new neighbor. He wasn’t in the mood to say hello and revved up the engine as a familiar form stepped out and waved to him. It was hard to miss the familiar riot of wild red curls.

Gabe shrugged off the mild irritation. Maggie Gael of the wild red hair and her husband Aidan weren’t just the owners of the Cherry Farm–a horse ranch that bore not a single cherry tree sitting to the immediate east of his property–but they’d become friends. Good ones that he thought he could count on was there ever a need. It made sense she’d be there; her husband had mentioned the new owners were family friends. A form he recognized as Henley McAlister stepped out and added a beckoning wave of her own. That’s right, the newcomers were actually related to Carter and Henley McAlister. Resigned to socializing, Gabe pointed the nose of the machine down the hill and promised himself no more than thirty minutes.

He heard the cacophony of dogs as soon as he cut the ignition. Looked like both Dixon and Tyson were in the house. Gabe grinned. He enjoyed the dogs. And playing with them from time to time helped dampen the urge to get one. He stamped his feet on the deck, knocking excess snow from the treads. When he reached the sliding glass doors, he bent and unlaced his boots before discarding his goggles and neoprene half mask. He opened the door and stepped in stocking feet into madness.

A young boy streaked by, both dogs hard on his heels. Carter and Aidan stood holding opposite ends of a heavy couch. Maggie yelled instructions, as she was wont to do. Henley stood to the side, as was her nature, a contemplative look on her face. Yeah, that couch isn’t staying put it. A muffled feminine voice pulled his attention, and he searched for the source. Amidst the chaos of packing boxes, some nearly as tall as he was, Gabe spotted a heart-shaped backside he didn’t recognize but definitely found compelling. Interested but not certain he wanted to be, Gabe addressed Aidan.

Did I mistake ‘run while you can’ waves for ‘come on down’ waves?

Those were ‘help the men before they kill us’ waves, Aidan groused.

Hey, man, get the middle. This thing is a beast. Carter added with a smile.

I don’t know where you’re headed with it, but I’m willing to bet it’s not going to stay there.

He unzipped his coat and removed his watch cap while Aidan barked, Is he right? Jen? The owner of the cute bottom stood and turned, her arms full of fabric Gabe thought were curtains, and he experienced a kick of recognition he couldn’t explain.

She was taller than him by an inch or two. She was willowy to the point of skinny, with golden blond hair cut in a short style he thought was called a pixie; he could see her clearly defined neck, razor-sharp cheekbones, and pointed chin. In sexy contrast to her sharp angles, she had a full, generous mouth pursed in thought as she considered the couch. He nearly stepped forward, wanting to catch the color of her eyes.

He didn’t miss the look Maggie and Henley shared. He chose to ignore it and them as he stared at his newest neighbor. He couldn’t remember what they’d told him about her, beyond her connection to their families. He didn’t know if she was married and wasn’t sure how he would respond if she were.

I don’t know, Aidan. Maybe against the far wall?

Yes, he’d be disappointed if there was a husband in the picture. She had a deep throaty rasp, the kind he found sensual, like Lauren Bacall but with a thick layer of Philadelphia rinsed over it.

You heard her; get over here, man. We could use the help.

She turned toward him. And her body tensed. Under different circumstances, he’d be amused by the way she instantly shut down. Celebrity caused most people to either feign interest or fawn over him. He generally accepted it, mostly resented it, but knew it was part of the game he had to play. This woman didn’t know who he was and wasn’t happy he was in her home. He stuffed his gloves in his discarded hat and, holding out his hand, approached her.

Welcome to the Cove. I’m Gabriel Foxx. She took his hand and gave him a firm shake. This was a no-nonsense woman. He grinned.

You’re the guy who bought the Blacks’ homestead. Jenna Gavin. She relaxed somewhat, but her guard was still in full effect. The blur of little boy streaked past, and her arm shot out to grab a fistful of shirt. Dragging the boy back, she offered, And my son, Finn.

The boy’s expression was mutinous until he looked up at Gabe. He had his mother’s eyes, full of hostility, but then his mouth split into a wide smile, and his expression became awestruck.

Oh, wow. You’re Gabe Foxx. In our house. Mom, that’s Gabe Foxx.

So, he said.

The boy looked at her in disgust. Gabe crouched—and noted the protective arm his mother wound around him, pulling him closer to her body.

Moms. He rolled his eyes. What are you going to do?

She thinks baseball’s boring. She said it’s as boring as watching golf.

Gabe spared a glance at the mother. Color flooded her face. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing.

Is that right?

Uh-huh. She likes football, though.

Eagles?

Yeah. How’d you know?

A guess. When you get a chance, swing by the house. I’ll get you a signed ball.

Really? Cool!

Thank you, but it’s not necessary. The boy and his mother spoke over each other.

You ruin everything. Finn spat and yanked his body away. Spinning on his heel, he slapped his mother and ran from the room.

The sound echoed in the now silent room. Should’ve just pretended I hadn’t seen Maggie wave and avoided this entire situation. Now what? Gabe stood. A quick look at his friends confirmed he’d have no help from that quarter. Carter and Aidan had sat the couch down where they stood and were looking at their respective spouses as the uncomfortable silence lingered.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a problem. I have a ton of baseballs in a box just for signing. It was meant only as a welcome to the neighborhood.

It’s not you. I apologize for his bad behavior. She ran her fingers through her short hair. Tufts of hair stood up in random sections. It was a cute look on her, made her more approachable despite the obvious distress twisting her expression. Baseball, huh?

Yeah. Retired. I played shortstop for the North Carolina Dogwoods.

From his reaction, I’d say you were good at it.

I was.

For the record, I was misquoted. I said watching baseball on TV was almost as boring as watching golf. I enjoy going to a baseball game.

Are we moving this freaking couch or not? Aidan barked.

Gabe ambled over, squatting beside the large sofa. The three men stood in tandem, and as they shuffled toward the opposite wall, Carter offered, She’s not totally ignorant. Had a huge crush on Darren Dalton when we were in high school. Never missed a game those few seasons.

Shut. Up. Carter, Jenna hissed.

Gabe smiled. Things just got interesting in the Cove.

* * *

Humiliation hummed in Jenna’s ears. She tossed the curtains back in the box she’d dug them from and, with as much dignity as she could muster, excused herself and ducked into the kitchen. She’d already unpacked here; she looked around for a reason to be in this room but couldn’t find one. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the granite counter.

It wasn’t the first time Finn had struck her. It hadn’t hurt then and didn’t now; well not physically, but her heart ached each and every time. This was the first time he’d done it before an audience. Her sweet, funny little boy had become unrecognizable. It was the primary reason for the move. But there was only so much she could do–he needed his father. His selfish, neglectful father, who lived thousands of miles away, thanks to her. She closed her eyes and bit back an oath when she heard voices growing near.

Two minutes, just two more minutes alone, then I’ll go back out.

She heard Maggie before she saw her and swallowed a groan.

Yeah, over there. No, the far wall. The other fall wall. Jeez. Maggie laughed, dragging Henley into the room behind her. Aidan is pissed.

I’m sorry. Jenna offered.

Don’t be. He’s pissed at me, and he’ll get over it. She rubbed Jenna’s arm. Are you okay?

I’m mortified. It’s bad enough you guys witnessed Finn’s outburst but a stranger?

Gabe’s a good guy, Henley added sliding onto a stool. You shouldn’t worry about it.

"And he noticed you. Like noticed you. Maggie wagged her eyebrows. Why are you hiding instead of out there flirting?"

You’re kidding, right?

Most definitely am not. He’s gorgeous. I flirt with him every chance I get.

You’re married.

Yeah, but I’m not dead.

He is really nice to look at, Henley concurred.

You flirt with him too?

No. I feel dorky when I try to flirt. But I do like talking to him. I think he’s lonelier than he realizes.

Well, I don’t care how lonely or good looking he is. I’m not interested.

Oh for goodness’ sake, we’re not saying run off and marry the man. We’re suggesting a little healthy flirting. It’ll be good for you. I bet you need the practice.

I’m not taking that bait. I’m only just divorced….

That was final months ago, Maggie interrupted, and your marriage was over more than a year before that. Next excuse?

Not an excuse, the truth.

Only as long as you allow it to define you. Henley balanced her chin on her clasped hands, looking every bit the former psychiatrist. Jenna wasn’t looking for analysis or a man.

I don’t need a man to define me, either. She paced, needing to do something, needing to feel as though she was moving in some direction instead of mired in failure and loss. She didn’t require her sister-in-law or her best friend’s insights to understand that Trappers’ Cove was her fresh start. And I know that’s not what either of you meant. This move was a difficult but necessary step, and I refuse to further complicate my life. Or my children’s.

I think it was brave what you did, letting the twins stay to finish their senior year.

This wasn’t Henley’s first attempt at reassurance. The family peacekeeper married to the town sheriff. They made the perfect team. Jenna quit pacing and, with a small smile of thanks for her sister-in-law, laid her head on Henley’s shoulder.

I miss them like crazy. It felt wrong leaving them but felt more wrong to take them away with only a few months left, and I think my parents like having kids in the house again. But it’s only made Finn angrier. He doesn’t understand why they could stay, and he couldn’t.

He just needs time.

You both do, Maggie added while digging through cabinets. You need time and normalcy. And flirting is normal.

Give it a break, Mags, Jenna warned. We’ve been here only two days. Just two days.

Fine, you’re right. Maggie looked over her shoulder. I can admit when I’m wrong more easily than some people. Just like I can admit that I am starving. Seriously, my stomach is talking to my back. She yanked open the refrigerator door. And you’ve got nothing. She slammed the door shut.

We should get pizza, Henley suggested.

I have to go to town regardless, get basic food and supplies at the general store. So, yeah, pizza sounds good. Jenna sighed. Either of you see where Finn ran off to following the show?

He’s out back with the dogs. Henley gave her a little squeeze. Let’s get the guys.

I’ll call Mario’s, reserve a table for seven, Maggie offered.

Six, Jenna corrected.

Don’t forget Gabe. He makes seven.

No matchmaking, Mags.

I’m hurt that you would think it necessary to say that. I’m being neighborly.

I’m not one of the characters in your books that you can push and prod and manipulate into a happily ever after, Jenna warned.

I said I would back off, didn’t I? Maggie hooked her hands on her hips, looking every bit the mischievous imp she was and failing terribly to affect a look of innocent indignation. Doc, back me up here.

Henley wisely kept her curved lips sealed.

Traitor. Maggie stuck her tongue out at Henley.

Jenna’s laugh surprised her. As did the hot knot of tears behind her eyes. Her sinuses burned with the need to let them fall, but pride proved the stronger emotion. I don’t want them feeling sorry for me anymore. I’m sick of it. Hoping her smile fooled the ones who knew her best, she fell into line between Maggie and Henley on the march back into the living room.

Left to their own devices, the three men had sorted the room into a workable, if not aesthetically pleasing, arrangement of furniture centered around the television. Carter and Aidan were splayed across the sofa they’d lugged around all morning. Gabriel was partially reclined in a deep leather club chair. Their laughter stopped as they noticed their audience.

Hey babe, Carter chirped.

Jenna didn’t normally notice how attractive her brother was, and she’d long ago stopped seeing Aidan in any light other than an annoyingly fraternal one. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t know they were good-looking men—she had just become immune to it. But seeing them beside Gabriel Foxx, she was struck