Destiny's Chance (9 page)

Roman scoffed at his hunches, but Chance had sensed a difference the moment he’d entered the hospital room to visit the woman wearing the
RICHARDS, ZOE
wristband. Then more tangible disparities appeared: the changes in diet including the love of Mexican food, the cooking, the different way she dressed, that she didn’t seem to know her way around the condo she’d lived in for six months.

Then the song Laura had had the flautist play. “My Heart Will Go On.” “Zoe” had whistled it in bed that one night and raised the subject of the afterlife.

But mostly it was Destiny’s sister’s behavior that gave credence to what had only been a wild and crazy imagining. She had barreled down the aisle, her relief and joy palpable at seeing Zoe. Then she’d whisked her away. Laura, who he’d heard had serious psychic powers, believed Zoe was Destiny. That he was sure of.

He spotted the girls in the distance. Hands on his knees, he drummed a rhythm. To speak up or not to speak up?

His emotions knotted like a tangled mess of fishing lures, pricking at his conscience with every attempt to shake them loose. He had cared for Zoe. He wished he could bring her back, but if a reversal of events were possible, he would have ended the relationship long ago. He’d often wondered if he and Destiny could have had something together. But would she want him if she knew about his secret little kink? Could she handle having her ass warmed?

That assumed she was Destiny. Maybe he and Laura were both wrong, and the behavioral changes represented Zoe’s attempts to rekindle a dead relationship or at least to buy time until she could get settled. He’d been adamant she get her own place. Perhaps her feelings for him ran deeper than he’d thought. And if that were so, but she
had
changed, did he want her back?

He didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know what he wanted, who he wanted, or even who was who.

But he couldn’t shake the idea, the vision, of Destiny staring at him through Zoe’s eyes in bed the other night. He’d kept his distance since, hadn’t touched her other than accidentally. He desired her. God, he desired her. His need had grown with every passing day until it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself, but he had to figure out who he would be touching first.

He would be wrong to mislead Zoe if she harbored feelings for him or to lead Destiny astray, to engage her without her knowing what she’d be getting into. Spanking was in his blood. He’d tried the vanilla way, but it had left him unfulfilled, antsy.

The two women reached the canopy, hugged tighter and longer than mere acquaintances would, and Laura hurried away in her—
their
—parents’ direction.

The Zoe who wasn’t approached. “You’re back finally.” Chance scrutinized her, his chest tightening with suppressed emotion.

“Sorry we were gone so long.” Her eyes were reddened, but her face relaxed into a contented smile.

“I didn’t realize you and Laura Grable were that close.”

The smile disappeared, and she shrugged. “She needed to talk to someone who knew Destiny well.”

Chance arched his eyebrows. “She couldn’t speak to her mother or father?”

“Laura and her parents don’t get along well.”

“She told you this just now?”

Destiny pursed her lips and blew out a huff of air. “She’s mentioned it before.”

“I thought you hardly knew her. We’ve only met her once or twice.”

She dropped her gaze. “She and I were a little closer than that.”

“You never said anything.”

“Do I tell you about all my friends?”

“So Laura is a friend.”

Destiny anchored her hand on her waist. “What is this? An interrogation? If you’re mad because I was gone so long, say so.”

He was goading her. But to what end? To push her into confession? And if she did admit the truth, wouldn’t that mark the beginning of the end? Destiny didn’t love him. She needed a place to regroup, a shoulder to lean on.

But you could be there for her
. Relationships had been built on less. Instead of pushing her, he should allow her space. Show her how good they could be together. They’d been friends, had become lovers. They only needed to connect the two.

“I’m sorry.” He inclined his head toward the refreshment tent. “Do you want to grab a bite?”

“No.” She pressed her fingers to her temple.

“Headache?”

“Not exactly. I feel a little…disoriented.”

Attending one’s memorial service incognito and listening to your eulogies? What could be disorienting about that? “Are you ready to go home?”

“I should stay…but yeah.” She nodded.

* * * *

On the way, they stopped for Chinese food anyway. Moo shu pork, shrimp fried rice, and egg rolls. Any other time, Zoe would have ordered a vegetable stir fry and plain brown rice. If he had a nickel for every difference since the accident, it would have paid for dinner and then some.

They ate at his dining table, neither of them inclined to talk. Zoe, the chopstick master, had eschewed them in favor of a fork.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.

Not yet ready to reveal his suspicions, he dodged. “I was thinking about Laura.”

“Laura?” A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What about her?”

He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Isn’t she supposed to have ESP or something?”

She pursed her lips. “She doesn’t like to be called psychic, but that’s pretty much what she is.”

“So she what? Sees into the future?”

Destiny smiled. “Precognition?” She shook her head. “That’s what a lot of people assume psychic ability is, but that’s not Laura’s gift. She’s a clairvoyant and an empath. She gets visions, not that predict the future but that show her the way things are. And then she’s adept at picking up emotions, even those people hide or aren’t aware of themselves. Like if a person acts angry, Laura feels the fear beneath the anger.”

He chose his next words carefully. “I wonder if Destiny had similar ability.”

She shook her head vigorously. “None. She’d have done better to ask the Magic Eight Ball.”

“But they were sisters.”

“Not by blood. Their parents adopted Laura after Destiny’s mother discovered she couldn’t have any more children.” Grimness darkened her face. “Parents shouldn’t have favorites, but they do. Laura wasn’t it. Nor did her parents understand her extrasensory abilities. And Laura was too young to comprehend the seriousness.” She bent her head and poked her fork in her rice. “They sent her to an institution for a while because they thought she was crazy or possessed.”

“You seem to know a lot about her family.” He studied her face, watched for a reaction.

She stiffened. “Destiny and I used to talk.”

“It would be impossible to be anything but honest around Laura, I would imagine. She’d pick up on every nuance.”

She nodded. “I don’t understand how it works, but there’s a lot of chaff intermingled with her perceptions that clouds the picture or interferes with interpretation of the meaning. But Laura reads people very well.”

He almost wished he had Laura’s ability so he could discern who sat across the table from him and her true motivation. If it was Destiny, when would she tell him the truth? What if she never did?

WHY WAS HE so interested in Laura all of a sudden? Destiny bit into an egg roll. But better that than he focus on her. She could provide no answers to any questions he might ask.

Laura may have been convinced that Chance had liked her and that Zoe had encouraged it, but her sister erred. Coincidence. That was all it was.

She wished she could be honest with Chance, but people did not switch bodies. Laura recognized her only because of her special abilities. He would think she was crazy.

Trust Chance
, said the voice.

And there was that—she’d started hearing a voice. Not loud, not often, but definitely there. She tried to dismiss it as her own imagining, but it was too distinct, too separate, too contrary. Too disturbing. The voice sounded exactly like Zoe.

She shivered. Laura had lost a year of her childhood in psychiatric lockup. She’d been too naïve, too innocent to understand the stakes. Only after Destiny had been permitted to visit and had advised her to tell the doctors what they expected to hear had the wheels been set in motion for her release. Lying had freed her sister. Honesty wasn’t always the best policy.

So what was she going to do? Take her secret to her deathbed? Give up any potential for happiness with Chance out of loyalty to a dead woman? The thought of that saddened her. But he’d obviously had feelings for Zoe, or they wouldn’t still be together. He’d had sex with her the other night or thought he had.

Tell Chance who you are.

“Stop!”

“I beg your pardon?” Chance raised his eyebrows.

Destiny thumped the side of her head with her palm. “Sorry. Just had a ringing in my ears.”

“Maybe you should tell the doctor. When’s your follow-up appointment?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Just a touch of schizophrenia.

She moved her rice around on her plate. Tell Chance or don’t? If by some miracle he believed her, she’d end up a loser because she wasn’t the woman he wanted. She remembered the way they’d made love, the emotion and the tenderness he’d given thinking he was with Zoe. She thought of the surprises hidden in the secret chest, remembered the tingles when she’d tried them out, imagined how much better it could be if someone else was wielding the tawse or the flogger. Was it wrong to want to do those things with Chance? Was it sinful to want him? Would acting on her feelings make her a bad person?

For the first time, she questioned her assumptions. Zoe had died. But Destiny lived, and so did Chance. Nothing she did or didn’t do would bring her friend back. Eventually Chance would find somebody else anyway. Why not her? And even though it wouldn’t lead to anything permanent, what was wrong about a spanky sexual interlude if it brought them release and, for a moment, forgetfulness of the tragedy?

She was still entitled to comfort and happiness.

Or punishment. Maybe she should ask him to chastise her for disloyalty and selfishness. Instead of spanking, it would be more like flagellation. She’d bare her bottom, he’d warm her ass with his hand, because she’d heard that was important, and then he’d whip her tender bottom with the tawse. Because she was bad. A terrible friend. Unfortunately, twisting her motivation didn’t hide the truth. She wanted to be spanked, flogged, tawsed for the fun of it, the closeness, the release.

The heat of shame and desire flooded her from the bottom up.

“Are you all right?” Chance regarded her, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Your cheeks are turning red.”

She wished he’d turn her cheeks red. She fortified her decision with a deep breath. “I organized the bedroom closet last week.”

“Good.” He arched his eyebrows.

“I opened the…uh…chest.”

“Ah. We haven’t used that in a while.” He smiled as if recalling pleasant memories.

Blood roared in her ears.
Come on, girl. Grow a pair. Just say it
. She licked her dry lips, glanced at her hands, then raised her head and locked her gaze on his. “Maybe…maybe we should use some of those things now.”

Chapter Ten

Chance’s eyes turned molten. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he said thickly.

She’d attempted to do the noble thing, but maybe her assumptions were in error—or maybe she needed them to be wrong—but she refused to give up without a fight. And if it didn’t work, she’d at least have memories and the knowledge that she’d tried.

A good idea? Time would tell.

“Yes,” she lied. “I need you to touch me, to hold me, to spank me.” She’d never expressed her desires to a man so openly before. But she withheld the most important piece.
I need you
. She loved Chance and craved him in every possible way.

She wanted him when he came home from the shop greasy and dirty, when he woke up with morning breath and morning wood, when he padded around the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel, when his muscles flexed when he did ordinary things like unload the dishwasher or grab a cup off the shelf. When he laughed at the television. After he shaved and when his face grew scratchy again. In the daytime and in the evening. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Thursdays and every other day. “I want you…and sex and spanking.”

“Me. Sex. Spanking.” Chance paused as if her request required consideration. He nodded. “I can accommodate you. When would you like all that?”

Her tongue seemed to swell inside her mouth, impeding the formation of words. “Now.” Perhaps only one word would be necessary.

Chance shoved away from the table. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Stomach fluttering, Destiny rose to her feet. Like this? No lead-in, no preamble. Just
bam!
The suddenness aroused nervousness and excitement.

He motioned for her to precede him, and she shuffled for the bedroom, trying to decipher the meaning behind his about-face.

A hard swat landed on her ass. She squealed.

“There’s more where that came from if you don’t get a move on. And even more if you do.” He smiled wickedly. Problems could wait. This could not. She scurried down the hall with Chance at her heels.