Fate Interrupted 2 Read online

  “W-What are you doing here?”

  “It’s over. No one is ever going to take you away from me again.”

  “But what happened?”

  He kissed her on the lips, breathing her in like air he would surely die without, the world shrinking around them. Dean broke the kiss to look her in the eyes, caressing her cheek. “I am sorry for putting you through this.”

  She opened her mouth and he pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Megan is never going to tell her father she wants a divorce.”

  Evy stared at him without blinking. “I knew it,” she whispered.

  “And I can’t stay in that house for another minute. I don’t know what’s going to happen and I’m sorry, but I’m done.”

  She nodded faintly, her heart swelling with a sweet and salty mixture of joy and trepidation. “But what about…?”

  “For now,” he said, cutting her off, “we pretend like none of this ever happened and have one normal night like everyone else,” he said, sliding her t-shirt over her head.

  Chapter Nine

  Light jazz spilled from the speakers in the ceiling, bathing the kitchen in a relaxed air Evy desperately needed. Brooke rolled out a circle of dough as big as a manhole cover and looked up. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

  Evy stopped humming and shrugged as she scooped their secret frosting from a giant pot. “No reason.”

  Ben arched an eyebrow that disappeared beneath the rim of his ball cap. “You find my stash or something?”

  There was a loud bang as Evy deposited the pot into the sink. “Yeah, Ben, I found your stash and smoked it all, and now I’m super baked.” She hit the sprayer, sending water blasting off the pot’s curved insides.

  “Bummer,” he said blankly, experimenting with a new drink at the island table. Bottles of rum, vodka, tequila, chocolate liqueur and grenadine littered the table in front of him like bowling pins. He dipped the rim of a tall, curvy glass into a sponge saturated with Bacardi 151 before dipping the glass in sugar. “I was kind of saving that for the new Paranormal Activity flick tomorrow.”

  Evy stopped the sprayer and laughed. “Lucky you, Brooke!”

  “It’s his turn to pick,” she said dully, working the rolling pin like a pro.

  “Yeah, last week I had to suffer through another Zack Efron movie, so we’re going all in this time.” Ben pulled his lighter out and lit the glass on fire, caramelizing the sugar around the rim with a blue flame that died out in a few short seconds.

  “What are you making?” Evy asked, drying her hands on her apron.

  “Spanish coffee,” Ben replied, carefully adding French-pressed coffee and then a shot of 151 to the still smoking glass like a mad scientist. “This’ll give ya a pick me up.”

  Brooke stopped the rolling pin and scratched her eyebrow, smearing flour across her forehead. “I love new coffee drinks.”

  “That looks really good, Ben.”

  He curled their homemade whipped cream around the top of the glass and finished it off with a light dusting of cinnamon. “Who wants to try it?”

  “I do!” Brooke and Evy said at the same time.

  Ben proudly slid his latest concoction across the table. “Glass might still be a little hot, so be careful.”

  Evy turned to Brooke. “You go first.”

  “No, you go first.”

  Ben shifted on his stool, watching Evy blow on the drink. “So…are Dean and Megan legally married in Wisconsin or just in Hawaii?”

  Their heads snapped around to him.

  “Just askin.”

  Evy grimaced, wanting to tell them about last night, but knowing Brooke would only worry. Dean had hit the self-destruct button and the good Lord above only knew what would happen next. At this point, anything was possible. Evy was also afraid to tell them Clay had already purchased the house for Megan and Dean. The stakes were high enough as it was and so were the consequences. She pushed the thought back down before it could get a foothold, not ready to deal with it until it came knocking at her front door. For now, she was content just having Dean all to herself again. And who knows? Maybe Megan would finally take the hint and give up already.

  “I think it’s just in Hawaii,” Evy replied, wiping her hands on her apron. “Not that it really matters. Legally, he’s married.” She took a cautious sip of the steaming drink and raised her brow. “Oh wow, that is amazing!”

  Brooke tried it next, licking the sugar from her lips. “Ooh, I like!” She passed it to Ben. “We can definitely sell that, my little mixologist. Nice job!”

  “You need a backup plan,” Ben said, taking a careful sip and letting his pallet go to work. “In case she decides to bail out on the divorce.”

  Evy tilted her head. “Like what?”

  Ben exhaled a long breath that sent swirls through the coffee’s steamy wisps. “Not sure, too early to come up with a backup plan.”

  Shaun burst through the swinging door, waltzing into the kitchen like he owned the place. “Did somebody say something about a backup plan?”

  “Clay wants Dean and Megan to buy a new house so Megan didn’t tell him about their divorce yet and we think she’s going to flake out on the whole thing now,” Brooke blurted in rapid-fire fashion.

  “We don’t know she’s going to flake out,” Evy lied, knowing full well Megan had already done just that.

  Shaun froze in his tracks, his brow folding. “What now?”

  “It’s true,” Ben said, passing the drink back to Brooke. “Evy and I followed them to their new house yesterday.”

  A deep seeded frown wrinkled Shaun’s face from the inside out. “Wait a minute, you guys went on a stakeout without me?”

  “This really doesn’t have to be the topic of discussion around here all of the time,” Evy said, assessing the mess of pots and pans in the sink and resigning to tackle it later.

  “What’re we supposed to talk about?” Brooke laughed. “The Vampire Diaries?”

  “That show is pretty awesome,” Shaun said, taking an apron from a rack by the door. “Member that one time when Elena turned into a vampire and wiped out her entire high school?”

  “Everything will be fine,” Evy announced, holding her hands out like the room was spinning.

  Ben took his black cap off and ran a hand over his peach fuzz, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his Pantera t-shirt. “It always does,” he said, winking at Brooke and making her smile.

  “I’m tellin ya, Evy, we should go to the paper with this stuff. They’re dying for stories like this during an election.” Shaun looked around the kitchen for help that didn’t come.

  “I don’t know, man,” Ben said, pulling his hat down low. “Without proof, you might be stirring up a hornet’s nest there, Shaun.”

  Shaun held his palms out, his black Sugars shirt wrapping around his beer belly. “How’s that?”

  “You have to take Clay completely out of the picture. Not just the mayor’s race, but public office in general. Abolish his powers, eliminate the threat.”

  Shaun shifted from one black Adidas to the other, his eyebrows drawing together. “Okay, you just sounded a lot like Lex Luther right there. You’re scaring me.”

  The room grew silent as the sprayer’s nozzle dripped like a medieval instrument of Chinese water torture, one sodden plink after the next.

  Brooke glanced at her sister while working the rolling pin. “All I know is this clown messed with the wrong girl.”

  Evy flashed a tight-lipped smile, loving the way Brooke always had her back no matter what the circumstances.

  “Did someone order a clown?” Jon said, bursting through the swinging door with brute force. “Just got my clown shoes outta the shop today!” he said, fist-bumping Shaun.

  “How did you get in here?” Evy asked, craning her neck to see up front.

  Jon thumbed behind him. “My guess would be the front door.”

  Brooke’s gaze sharpened. “Shaun,” she growled, stopping the rolling pi
n. “You’ve got to keep that door locked until we open.”

  Shaun smiled weakly, pulling the apron over his head and tying it in back. “Oops.”

  Jon nodded at Ben. “Sup? You got that, man?”

  Ben nodded to the office and got up. “Walk this way,” he said in an English accent, walking like he was drunk.

  “Don’t be smoking that in here,” Brooke yelled after them. “We’re opening soon.”

  “We’re gonna take a quick ride,” Ben hollered back, slipping into the office.

  “So did you talk to Dean last night?”

  Evy jerked her eyes to Shaun and let them focus in. “I did.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s…good,” Evy answered, nodding her head up and down.

  “Good.” Shaun nodded along with her, examining her face. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  Brooke inhaled sharply, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Evy Burnett, you little slut! He’s a married man!”

  “He spent the night,” Evy admitted, bursting at the seams and unable to keep it in any longer.

  “What?” Brooke gasped, pointing a righteous finger at her. “You do know you can go to Hell for that, don’t you?”

  Evy flattened her lips while taking a clean cookie sheet from a rack and setting it on the island. “I think God knows this marriage doesn’t count.”

  “So what happened?” Brooke asked, taking a quick swig of the Spanish coffee.

  Evy looked from Brooke to Shaun and exhaled a slow breath. “Apparently, Megan decided she would only go through with the divorce if…Dean had sex with her one more time.”

  This time Shaun was the one who inhaled sharply. “What!”

  Evy could only smile as she ripped a sheet of parchment paper from a large spool, still not believing it herself. “I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.”

  Shaun laughed at the ridiculousness of it, trading a look with Brooke. “Holy shit, that girl is crazier than a cross-eyed weasel in a chicken coop!”

  “Which is why Dean grabbed his stuff and left.”

  Brooke rested her hands on her slender hips. “So what happens now? Her dumbass dad is going to flip out!”

  “God only knows,” Evy muttered, covering the cookie sheet with the paper. “But I can’t wait to find out.” Thoughts of Dean lying in her bed last night came back to her in waves out of the blue, fueling her diminishing glow. She returned to her humming, brushing the sheet with bacon grease and feeling like herself for the first time in awhile.

  Shaun set a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. “Hey listen, I know things are pretty messed up right now and everything, but I want you to know how thankful I am you guys hooked me up with this gig.” He turned his faint smile to Brooke. “If I had to do a root canal this morning, I think I’d shoot myself in the face.”

  Evy looked up with sad eyes. “I just wish we could give you more hours, Shaun.”

  “Hey, something is better than nothing. Plus, you’re selling my beer! How cool is that!”

  Brooke laughed. “I’m not sure which I love more: the flavor or your shit-eating grin on the bottle.”

  He squeezed their shoulders and let go, the three of them exchanging warm smiles like presents on a sunlit Christmas morning. “I know Carrie appreciates it as well.”

  Evy squeezed his hand. “I know she does, and things will get better.”

  Shaun pressed his lips together and nodded. “Hey, how many of my beers have we sold this week anyway?”

  Brooke swapped an apprehensive look with Evy. “Five? Maybe six.”

  His jaw plummeted to the floor. “That’s it?” he cried, leaning against the table and letting his eyes stray from focus.

  “Maybe it was eight,” Brooke quickly added.

  “I’m going to lose my house,” he mumbled dully, massaging his face.

  “No, you’re not,” Evy replied. “Quit saying that or it will come true.”

  The bell over the front door rang out, drawing their gazes like a magnet.

  “Shit,” Shaun whispered, knowing Brooke was going to give him fifty shades of hell for leaving the door unlocked.

  “Probably the milk guy,” Evy said, squeezing between them and pushing through the swinging door. She stopped dead, the door smacking her in the rear end, her heart sinking. Megan smiled warmly from the other side of the counter, a yellow sundress barely covering her panties. Her redheaded friend’s smile was just as phony as hers.

  “Hi Evy.”

  Evy’s eyes snapped back to Megan. “Megan,” she replied coldly, her gaze sharpening.

  Megan turned to the pretty friend standing next to her with a wry grin carving into her freckled cheeks. “This is my friend, April.”

  “Hi Evy,” April said too loudly, extending a pallid hand over a covered display of different flavored cake pops.

  Evy shook April’s hand, butterflies launching against her insides.

  April’s eyes drifted over Evy’s shoulder and widened. “Hey Jon!”

  Jon got half way through the swinging door and slammed on the brakes too late. He held up a heavy hand. “Hey April,” he said halfheartedly, hesitantly approaching the counter. “You look good. You been working out?”

  “A little,” she replied, her ashen cheeks finally showing some signs of color.

  “Nice.” Jon nodded, at a loss for words for the first time Evy could remember. “Well,” he said, taking a timorous step backwards.

  “I tried calling.”

  Jon exchanged a quick glance with Evy that was just as awkward as this entire meeting. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t get back to you right away.” He paused, his mouth agape, brain scrambling. “My mom died.”

  April inhaled a cutting breath while Megan and Evy folded their brows.

  “Oh my God, that is horrible. What happened?”

  Evy wasn’t sure if April’s mortification was sincere or not, but she turned to Jon just the same, as eager for his answer as everyone else.

  “Heart attack” he replied bleakly, dropping April’s saddened gaze. “She was pretty old but it was still very sudden.”

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Jon,” April cooed, her consoling eyes glued to him. “Maybe this weekend we can get together and help get your mind off things for a minute.”

  Megan turned to April with a hearty nod. “I think we’re free this weekend,” she said smugly. “Maybe we can make it a double date.”

  Evy laughed inside and then shuddered at the thought, biting her bottom lip until her teeth nearly broke through the skin.

  “Cool,” Jon relied sheepishly, running a hand through his blond hair. “Well, I’ve got to go help…unload a truck out back.” He thumbed toward the kitchen. “But it was great seeing you again.”

  “You, too,” April smiled widely. “Call me!”

  Evy turned to see Jon’s reaction but he was already gone, the door swinging behind him.

  “Well, we stopped by to see if we could reserve Sugars for Megan’s baby shower.”

  Evy’s head snapped back around. Her world narrowed with April standing at the end of a long tunnel, her pounding heart demanding the breath that was quickly fleeing her lungs.

  “Oh, hell no,” Brooke screeched, bursting through the door. She took her position at Evy’s side and lifted her shoulders, conjuring up every inch she could possibly muster, a field marshal on the edge of a snowy battlefield.

  Megan ignored the outburst and let her eyes wander, admiring the soft couches and cozy tables with candles. “This place is so cute!”

  “So is the name,” April added with a nervous chuckle.

  There was a moment of sticky unease that attached to everything in its path as they took each other in. A cooler lined with beer bottles kicked on, replacing the quiet with a low hum Evy did not remember noticing before. The smell of fresh coffee and banana muffins danced in the air between them.

  “You’re not even showing yet.”

  “Brooke!” Evy gasped, discr
eetly nudging her to the side.

  Megan flipped her long blond locks over her shoulder like she was in some cheesy Aveeno commercial, the corners of her lips pulling back into a confident smirk. “I know most people wait until they’re almost due, but I wanted to get a jump on it while I can still walk.” She turned to April and they both shared a quick laugh. “Plus, I refuse to wear tennis shoes out in public under any circumstance! I don’t care how much my feet hurt.” Megan’s eyes slowly dropped behind the counter to Brooke’s Adidas and she cleared her throat, her phony smile returning to her lips.

  “God forbid,” Brooke grumbled, honing her gaze to a razor’s edge.

  Evy pulled an organizer from under the counter and a pen from her apron. “What day were you thinking?” she asked, an Oscar worthy politeness sculpting her tone. She readied the pen against the paper, ignoring Brooke’s kick to her ankle beneath the counter.

  “Next Sunday at two o’clock?”

  Evy looked from April to the organizer and noticed her hand was shaking. She pressed the tip of the pen hard enough against the paper to make a small dent, her eyes following the line of squares to next Sunday.

  “I’m pretty sure we’re fumigating that day,” Brooke stated, standing on her toes to peer over Evy’s shoulder.

  “That’s Monday. Next Sunday will work fine,” Evy said calmly, jotting something down. “And how many will be at the party?”

  Megan and April swapped glances.

  “Twenty?” April replied.

  Megan turned back to Evy and nodded weakly, clearly unimpressed with the number.

  Evy contained a grin, pulling on its leash until it jerked back. She kept writing as April dictated her phone number next, her heart beating a million miles an hour. “Here is a menu with a list of our rates,” she said, pulling a folded sheet out and handing it to Megan.

  Megan stared at it unmoving, her eyes shifting from the brochure back to Evy. They stood there like that for awhile, Evy’s arm hanging out in the air, the cooler humming in their ears, and Megan clasping a hunter green purse that looked like it may have eaten a swimmer or two in its lifetime.

  Megan finally took the brochure. “Can we get that area over there?”