Better Fate than Never

By Fenella Ashworth

When Finn Jacobs inherited the dilapidated Orchard Farm from a distant relative, his immediate strategy was to sell it and pocket the profit. Falling in love with the property at first sight and deciding to restore it, had never been part of his grand plan. Discovering a long-forgotten time capsule during the renovation work, set Finn on a fateful path to identify its original owner. And that's when Jenny Hargreaves appeared, snapping and snarling, into his life.

From the first moment they laid eyes upon each other, sparks were destined to fly. This was not a match made in heaven. The playful, wickedly handsome and sometimes downright sarcastic Finn seemed set on a course guaranteed to continually irritate the headstrong Jenny. Undoubtedly, Finn had never been part of her grand plan either but then, when fate takes a seat at the table, plans can change...

Fenella is a British author of contemporary steamy romance. Her most popular books are ‘One Hot Wynter’s Night’, ‘To Love, Honour and...Oh Pay’ and the Daniel Lawson Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fenella Ashworth
• Release date: Feb 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215023228

Fenella Ashworth

Fenella Ashworth is a British author of over 40 contemporary steamy romance books for 18+. Her most popular books are ‘One Hot Wynter’s Night’, ‘To Love, Honour and...Oh Pay’, 'Fictional Fantasies' and the Daniel Lawson Series.Find Fenella online at www.fenellaashworth.com where you can subscribe to her newsletter for ongoing freebies.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jenny silently ground her teeth as she shuffled past a screaming toddler who was apparently at the very height of a meltdown. Purposefully avoiding eye contact with the child’s despairing young father, she skilfully dodged being pelted by half-chewed chunks of banana and slipping in puddles of orange juice now covering the slick floor. Relieved to be reunited with her shopping trolley, Jenny marched towards the cereal aisle, cursing the fact that she’d failed to submit her internet shopping order on time. How anybody ever maintained their sanity prior to the invention of online shopping, she would never know. Much of Jenny’s life had been spent avoiding her least favourite activity of shopping and today was a prime example of why. At least she wasn’t attempting a food shop at the weekend, which would have been sheer, certifiable madness.

Loitering briefly in the wine and spirits section, Jenny’s focus was broken as she heard a distinctly familiar voice partaking in a one-sided mobile phone conversation. Looking up, she tried her best not to stare as, with his trademark shock of ginger hair, Jimmy Jones strolled up beside her to grab an expensive bottle of whisky from the adjacent shelf. Immediately Jenny focussed an unnatural amount of attention on the bottles of sherry she’d been perusing, but long-gone was any thought of buying a present for her grandmother. Instead, every nerve in her body was finely tuned towards eavesdropping on his conversation.

Put simply, Jimmy Jones wasn’t just their local celebrity; he was Britain’s hottest singer-songwriter. His star was very much in the ascendancy, with his latest album snatching the number one slot both at home and in the States. Jenny couldn’t help but think how nice it was that he still frequented the local supermarket. After that famous first album had become an international success, he could well have been forgiven for falling into outlandish behaviour, as many had before him. And yet, perhaps thanks to a well-grounded family who ensured his feet remained firmly on the ground, he was regularly seen out and about in the local town, often supporting community functions.

Jimmy’s much awaited follow-up album, due out later in the year, was tipped to go stellar across the globe. The recent engagement announcement to his childhood sweetheart had completed the fairy tale in Jenny’s mind and part of her longed to go over and congratulate him. However, the moment passed, as he turned and walked away. Besides, she didn’t want to look like an adoring, slightly mental fan; he was bound to have plenty of those to contend with and no doubt just wanted to be left in peace. Rubbing her slightly flushed face, she glanced down at the crumpled shopping list, before exhaling a sigh of relief. Only her grandmother’s favourite biscuits to pick up and she could be out of this hellhole, once and for all.

Having located the appropriate shelf, Jenny’s mood fleetingly brightened. Not only were the biscuits in stock…just, but they were part of a Buy One Get One Free deal. Peering into the darkened shelving area, she saw two remaining packs, stacked right at the back of the shelf. Result! Bending down, Jenny stretched her arm into the depths of the narrow shelf, her hesitantly exploring fingers eventually coming into contact with an object. Placing the first packet of biscuits triumphantly into her trolley, she turned to repeat the exercise, only to be confronted by the back of a man who was crouching over to claim the final pack.

‘Excuse me?’ exclaimed Jenny in a distinctly unamused tone. ‘Those are my biscuits!’

In slow motion, the well-built stranger rose to his full six foot two inches in height before turning to face her. Jenny momentarily felt the air squeezed from her lungs, removing any ability to continue in her tirade. The man in front of her was, quite simply, breathtaking; olive skin and a broken nose, coupled with dark hair and even darker eyes which seemed to pierce through to her very soul and read every single thought. It was an uncomfortable feeling and one she didn’t appreciate much, particularly when her nipples began to tighten in reaction. She felt grateful to be wearing a loose fleece jumper which prevented him from discovering the extent of his impact; the man looked quite self-confident enough, without requiring that kind of ego boost. Just in case he did have keen powers of observation however, she folded her arms across her breasts, merely helping to exacerbate her angry stance.

‘Hmmm?’ he replied, drinking in the sexy woman standing before him. What was it about a beautiful, angry woman that stirred him so? Perhaps he found the associated emotions he observed to be closely aligned with arousal and a loss of control. With her long tortoiseshell hair, blue eyes and tall frame, displaying curves in all the right places, she threatened to tick every single box of desirable attributes he’d ever considered, whilst offering up some helpful suggestions for potential new line items.

‘They’re my biscuits,’ she croaked, impressed to find her voice was still working. ‘Part of a BOGOF deal.’

‘Huh?’ he responded with a lazy smile. She looked incredulously at him, as though he’d been living in a cave. How could he not know about the most common of all supermarket deals? And then the answer hit her.

‘You must be foreign?’ she stated, rolling her eyes in frustration. ‘Are you not from this country?’

‘Ah, non,’ he replied in a rich, French accent, grasping onto the idea. She didn’t need to know that, for a brief moment, she had rendered him temporarily speechless. ‘What is zees Bog Off? It is très rude, n’est-ce pas?’

‘Buy. One. Get. One. Free,’ replied Jenny in an excessively laboured way, as though dealing with somebody who had a negative I.Q.

‘I don’t shop regularly,’ he muttered, realising far too late that regularly was practically impossible to say in a French accent…probably even if you’re French. He saw her raise a quizzical eyebrow and knew he was skating on thin ice. His accent had already started to drift towards having an Indian inflection. It would be South African next, and then she’d just assume he was a loon. He needed to move this charade along.

‘Those biscuits,’ she said in a tone which suggested she was not to be trifled with, stabbing her finger towards his basket. ‘Mine,’ she demanded, turning the finger to point at her own chest.

‘Oui, you can have zee biscuits,’ he replied, relieved to note he was well and truly French once more.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed in relief.

‘Zee payment is one keess,’ he continued.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she exclaimed with unconstrained, ice-cold outrage.

‘I zink you heard me,’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders in a very French way.

‘How bloody well dare you!’ she breathed and, spinning on her heel as best she could whilst pushing a trolley, she stomped away. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he heard the departing comment, muttered under her breath.

‘Goddamn randy Frenchmen!’

* * *

With her equilibrium entirely thrown off balance, a flushed Jenny stalked along the aisle to pick up an alternative product, before heading directly to the checkout tills; her only thought was to get away from this place and back to the safety of her home, as quickly as physically possible. As she began to empty her shopping onto the conveyor belt, one of the first items she picked up was a single packet of her grandmother’s biscuits. Immediately, Jenny felt her heart harden against that dreadful man. She was only part way through her task, when her attention was drawn towards an animated conversation taking place a few tills down the line.

‘Finn!’ exclaimed the world-renowned voice of Jimmy Jones with obvious delight. ‘How ya doing, Buddy? I didn’t realise you were back!’

Along with a number of her fellow shoppers, Jenny turned to observe the source of the commotion and was astonished by the sight of Jimmy Jones warmly embracing the obnoxious Frenchman. Unable to tear her eyes away, she continued to load her items onto the conveyor belt, without paying one iota’s worth of attention to what she was doing.

‘Yeah, I’m really great thanks,’ replied Finn in a cut-glass English accent. Jenny felt her jaw physically drop. Blood rushed to her abdomen at the mere sound of his voice; a low, rumbling melody that involuntarily lifted every hair on the back of her neck and sent crackles of electricity into the base of her skull. And yet her reaction was accompanied by confusion; why had he pretended to be French?

‘I’ve only been back a few weeks. I was planning to pop around and say hi.’

‘That’s so great you’re back!’ Jimmy exclaimed. ‘Yes, you must come over soon!’

‘I’d love to. And I hear congratulations are in order,’ he teased. Clearly the men had a close and long-standing friendship. ‘Tilly’s agreed to make an honest man out of you, at long last?’

‘Well,’ said Jimmy in a low, confiding tone, which caused Jenny to lean slightly towards them, in order to pick up every nuance of their private conversation. ‘When it’s right, you just know,’ he confessed. In that second, Finn’s dark eyes swivelled round to catch Jenny’s gaze, before sending her a brief wink. Her body reacted instantly, causing her tummy to descend into freefall whilst her brain went fuzzy. Such was the violence of her response that she threw her hand out against the counter for support.

‘That’s so true,’ he confirmed, still giving Jenny his undivided attention across the heads of several other shoppers. Realising his friend’s concentration was absorbed elsewhere, Jimmy turned to look in the same direction. Utterly appalled, she found herself the centre of both men’s unwanted scrutiny.

‘Do you have your own bags?’ asked a loud voice, in a tone which suggested the question had already been previously asked, with no response forthcoming.

‘Oh, yes. Sorry, yes,’ replied a flustered Jenny, hurriedly breaking her connection with Finn, in order to answer the under-paid, under-valued checkout assistant. Taking a step past the employee, a deeply blushing Jenny began to pack her groceries into bags, not daring to look up again, in case either man was still facing in her direction. With her head down, she funnelled all of her focus into packing. However, confusion quickly took hold; there seemed to be two packets of the BOGOF biscuits that had caused Finn and her to initially converse. She realised he must have snuck the second pack into her trolley, when her back had been turned. God! The man was infuriating! Biting her tongue in frustration, she quickly paid for her shopping and fled from the shop, looking neither left nor right and hoping never to lay eyes on him again.

* * *

With unusual viciousness, Jenny crammed the shopping bags into her vehicle before slamming the car door shut and returning her trolley to the appropriate bay. She was hardly able to believe neither her eyes, nor her bad luck, when Finn meandered over to the four by four which was parked alongside her.

‘Fate,’ he observed, lazily opening his car door, before dropping his shopping bag onto the passenger seat.

‘No such thing,’ she spat, flicking the long hair away from her face. For a long while, he observed her intently, his guarded expression giving nothing away.

‘Finn,’ he said at last, holding his hand out in introduction whilst doing his best to ignore her obvious anger at his mere existence.

‘So the whole supermarket overheard,’ said Jenny primly, refusing his gesture of goodwill.

‘And your name is?’ he prompted bravely.

‘None of your business!’ she replied, immediately regretting her rudeness, but unsure of how else to deal with him. Unexpectedly finding herself unable to defrost even a single degree, she continued. ‘So, you’re not French anymore, then?’

‘No, sorry,’ he grinned, the amusement in his voice evident.

‘Care to explain?’

‘You’d already categorised me into a specific stereotype,’ he shrugged. ‘I was just trying to conform to your small-town prejudices…’

‘I do NOT have prejudices, small-town or otherwise!’ she exploded, hardly able to contain herself. This man seemed to be able to press every button she had; she could merrily throttle him right now.

‘…that,’ he continued, ignoring her outburst. ‘If a person didn’t understand the intricacies of supermarket discounting options on offer, they must automatically be foreign, or stupid, or both.’

As it happened, previous partners had tended to sort out the supermarket shop, so Finn wasn’t that well versed in the delights of such deals. Over the past year,