My Accidental Forever (Love You Forever Book 5) Read online

  He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I panicked! I couldn’t exactly tell him we were there to put an end to our drunken marriage.”

  “I get that, but you realize that means he’s going to expect you to propose soon, right?”

  He waves a hand through the air. “I can take my time. Searching for the perfect ring, setting up a special date, working up the nerve to ask . . . it all takes a while. I’m not worried.”

  Glad you’re not, I think. This just confirms what I was already thinking. We’re going to crash and burn soon. I need to work on getting over this little crush I’ve seemed to develop. Maybe that date with Brett will be exactly what I need.

  The week passes by quickly, even though I haven’t heard from Foster since our meeting with his lawyer. I’ve been keeping myself extra busy with work during the day and spending more time with the dogs in the evenings. I leave very little time for thinking about him, and when I feel the longing sneaking up on me, I push it back and find something else to occupy my mind. Tonight is my date with Brett. I’m not that excited about it, but at the same time, I’m glad I’ll have Foster off my mind for a little while.

  I pull on a cute summer dress and a pair of sandals. I leave my hair loose and add a little makeup, some shimmery lip gloss, and mascara. By the time I’m walking out of my bedroom, someone is knocking on the door. I rush to it and pull it open, finding Foster on the other side.

  I freeze. “What are you doing here? My date’s going to show up at any minute.”

  “I know,” he says, rushing inside and slamming the door closed behind us. His mouth finds mine as he pushes me up against the wall. Automatically, my arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. His hands find my thighs and they start pushing my dress upward. His big hands land on my bare ass and he lifts me up until my legs wrap around his waist. I can feel him pressing against me, straining against his jeans. I let out a soft moan and he pulls his lips away from mine.

  “I just needed to remind myself,” he says against my lips.

  “Remind yourself of what?” I ask, looking up to meet his eyes.

  “That you deserve more and I can’t be selfish with you. What I’m offering you isn’t enough. As badly as I want to stop this date, I won’t let myself. You deserve to be happy.” He presses his lips to mine for another second, then he pulls away, sets me on my feet, and leaves just as quickly as he appeared.

  I’m left standing there—breathless.

  The door opens again and he sticks his head in. “Do me a favor. Change that dress. It’s too sexy.” He closes the door and it doesn’t open again.

  I lean against the wall to catch my breath. Why does he feel so good to me? Why can’t I let him go?

  I shake the thoughts away and go back into my room to change, not knowing why I even bother trying to convince myself that I’m not falling for him.

  Brett picks me up as promised. He opens the door to his Mustang and allows me to climb into the car before shutting it behind me. As he’s walking around the car to get behind the wheel, I look down at myself and wonder if this outfit would appease Foster. Instead of the summer dress I was wearing, I’m now wearing a pair of skinny jeans, my black Chuck Taylors, and a white tank top. Everything else is still the same.

  Brett climbs behind the wheel and looks over at me with a smile. His blond hair is longer but styled neatly, and he has blond scruff growing on his jaw. “How ya been?”

  I force a smile. “Good. You?”

  He shrugs. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left for Florida.”

  “Well, you could’ve called,” I point out, not wanting to say, “I feel the same way,” because that would be a lie. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to not say anything either.

  “You know how it is. Just trying to stay focused on the race. What have you been doing?”

  I shrug. “I just got back from Vegas,” I say, then instantly regret it because I know he’s going to ask about it.

  “Work or play?”

  “Play . . . always play,” I laugh. “I went with this guy I’ve been seeing. We stayed the whole weekend. To be honest, I drank so much that I don’t remember a lot of it other than I woke up married.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but his eyes flash to me and I can read exactly what he’s thinking: If you’re married, then why are we going on a date?

  “You’re married?”

  “Only technically. We’re having it annulled or whatever this stupid state does.” I wave off his concern.

  He readjusts himself in the driver’s seat. “Are you and this guy serious? Or I guess not if you’re not staying married? But were you close?”

  I nod. “We’re still close but there’s an expiration date.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means . . .” I let out a long breath. I’m already tired of trying to explain my weird relationship with Foster. “It means we’re having fun and hanging out, but it’s nothing serious. Apparently, his family has some big plans for him. He’s destined to be with another woman.”

  “How do you feel about him?”

  I look over at him, confused. “I just told you.”

  “No, you told me what you’re doing and how it’s not going to last. How do you feel about him?”

  I look back at the road, feeling too uncomfortable to look at him while having this conversation. “I don’t know. When we started hanging out, it wasn’t any different than what I was doing with you, or any other guy for that matter. We would have fun, hang out, then go our separate ways. But something’s different with him. He’s unlike any other guy I’ve been with. When we’re together, I never want our time to end. And when we’re apart, the only thing I can do is think about him. But like I said, it can’t work out and I need to get him out of my system.”

  The car starts to slow. He comes to a stop in the road, waits for traffic to clear, then makes a U-turn.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, panicked as I look both ways for a cop to catch our illegal U-turn.

  “You’re in love with this guy,” he says flatly.

  “What? No, I’m not,” I argue, not ready to admit it.

  He nods. “You are, and there’s no point in us going anywhere until you figure that shit out. You love him. What are you doing here with me?” He doesn’t sound mad or upset—just really curious.

  “I can’t love him,” I point out. “It’ll only end in pain for me.”

  “Maybe if you tell him how you feel . . .” he starts, but I’m already shaking my head.

  “No way! I’m not that girl, Brett. You should know that more than anyone. I don’t do clingy. I don’t get attached.”

  “There’s a first time for everything, Harley. Maybe all this time, the reason you weren’t getting attached to a man is because he wasn’t the right man. Now you’ve found him.” The car rolls to a stop in my driveway.

  “You don’t understand. He came over before you picked me up. I thought . . .” I shake my head.

  “You thought what?”

  “I told him about our date. So when he showed up, I thought he was coming to stop it because . . . I don’t know, because he was feeling the same way I’ve been feeling. But that’s not why he came.”

  “Why’d he come?”

  “He said he wanted to stop it, but then he had to remind himself of why he shouldn’t. He knows how we’ll end, and he doesn’t want to stop me from finding whatever I deserve.”

  He nods, his hand picking up mine and his eyes leveling on me. “You’ve only just realized your feelings. Give him more time. If he sees what I do, it won’t take him much time at all to fall hard for you.”

  “So we’re really not going out? What am I going to do all night?”

  He smiles and shrugs. “Why don’t you call your guy? Tell him I stood you up and ask if he’s free.”

  I smile, a laugh slipping out. “You’re a great guy, you know that?”

  His smile widens. “Get out of her
e.”

  Ten

  Foster

  I force myself to walk away. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. This past week it’s been hard staying away from her. I know what I’m asking from her isn’t fair, which is why I’m trying to keep my distance. It kills me to think of another man getting to be with her. But what can I do? I tell myself that staying away from her is nothing more than a little practice. It’s like weaning yourself off a drug. Each day is a fight, but each day, it gets a little easier.

  I leave her place and drive straight to mine, not trusting myself to go anywhere else. I know I’ll probably just drink too much to make up for missing her, and I don’t need to drive home after that. I get to my place, order some Chinese food for dinner, and call Bianca. We really are close—as friends anyway—and we’ve always had each other to talk to.

  “Hey, Foster. What’s up?” she answers.

  “Wanna come hang out with me? We’ll eat too much Chinese food and drink too much alcohol,” I tease.

  “All you had to say was Chinese food,” she jokes. “Be there soon.”

  I hang up the phone and go for a shower to kill some time. The hot water helps to relax me, but it doesn’t take Harley off my mind. When I get out, I pull on a pair of boxers and some sweatpants, then head back to the living room, stopping at the drink cart and pouring myself a little something.

  A little while later, Bianca walks in and finds me on the couch in front of the TV, Chinese food spread out across the coffee table.

  She looks at me with a knowing smile. “Why do you look like you’ve lost your puppy?” she asks, coming to sit at my side.

  I shrug.

  She picks up a carton of food and looks back at me while picking at it. “It’s her, isn’t it? Did she break up with you?”

  “No, we’re not together, so we can’t break up,” I point out.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. What’s your problem then?”

  “She’s out on a date right now with another guy.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re jealous.”

  “I am not jealous,” I argue, but then realize that’s exactly what I am. I shrug. “Okay, maybe.”

  “Why don’t you just tell her you don’t want her seeing this guy? What’s the big deal?”

  I shake my head. “How can I do that? How can I say, ‘You can’t see anyone but me, but I’m going to leave you eventually because I’m being forced to marry my best friend’?”

  She moves her head from side to side then smiles wide. “You could just let go of this whole arranged-marriage thing and marry her instead.”

  “I kind of already did that by accident. In Vegas. And now I’m in the process of undoing it before our parents find out.”

  “Hold up . . . WHAT? You can’t just gloss over that like it’s nothing!”

  I rub my hands over my face before explaining everything to her.

  She shakes her head. “You’re a mess, aren’t you?”

  I nod and laugh as I run my hands through my hair and over my face. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You love her?” she asks, and suddenly the seriousness sets in.

  “I don’t know. All I know is that I want her. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her. When we’re together, it’s like we’re lost in our own world where nothing else matters. Not you, not our parents, not responsibilities. Nothing.”

  “It sounds like you love her,” she says, nodding.

  I put my hand on her shoulder and shove against her. She laughs and nearly falls over. But she comes back with an elbow to my ribs. I retaliate by stealing her food. And just like that, everything falls away as we eat, drink, and watch TV.

  A little while later, Viv alerts me to the fact that someone is here to see me. As I look up and see Harley, I’m frozen in my seat. It’s like my two worlds are colliding. I have Bianca at my side on the couch and Harley standing in front of me, looking confused and thinking she’s just interrupted my date night or something.

  I stand up and walk over. “Hey, did your date end early? Couldn’t stay away from me, huh?” I try joking.

  She smiles, but it’s not the wide smile I’m used to. “You got me,” she says, trying to keep amusement in her voice. “Am I interrupting? I can go . . .”

  “No, not at all. Harley, this is Bianca.” I look at Bianca. “Bianca, this is Harley.”

  Bianca stands up with a smile and an outstretched hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Foster’s told me so much about you.”

  “You’re Bianca,” Harley says, shaking her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.” She looks back at me, then returns her gaze to Bianca. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting?”

  Bianca laughs. “No, not at all. In fact, I was just about to take off. I have a lot of work to do. You can have the rest of the food. Don’t let this one get his hands on it, or it’ll be gone,” she says, shaking Harley’s arm lightly as she passes us by.

  I watch her walk to the elevator and wave as the doors close with her on the other side. With Bianca gone, I look back at Harley. “So, what’s going on? What happened to your date?”

  She shrugs. “He decided to cancel on me mid-date.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” I take her hand and pull her toward the couch.

  “Yeah, it was kind of weird. I’ve never had anyone pick me up, then rip a U-turn in

  the middle of the road and take me home.”

  “Why’d he do that?” I ask, sitting down.

  “I told him about you and our accidental marriage.”

  I feel my eyes widen. “Why’d you do that? You probably just scared the guy off.”

  “Nah, he knows me and I haven’t scared him off yet.” She waves off my concern.

  I lean my head back against the couch and look at her, enjoying the fact that she’s at my side again.

  “What were you and Bianca up to? I really would’ve left to give you and your future wife some alone time.”

  I let out a long breath. “Stop calling her that. Right now, I want to spend time with you.” I lean over and am surprised when she allows me to kiss her. And not only does she let me kiss her, but she kisses me back with more emotion that I expected. Her arms wrap around my neck and pull me closer. She manages to turn around on the couch, and the next thing I know, I’m between her jean-covered legs. It doesn’t slip past me that she changed outfits after I suggested she do so.

  Right about now, though, I wish she were wearing the dress. It would make this so much easier, but I’m always up for a challenge. I kiss her deeply and my body comes alive, throbbing and straining against my pants. Her hips move up and down, grinding against my hardness. My hands grab ahold of her hips, stopping them before she causes me to explode. I wrap one arm around her lower back and hold her against me as I stand and carry her into my bedroom.

  I kick the door shut behind us and set her on her feet. She’s already pushing my sweatpants down my hips, and I let them fall into a pile around my feet. I tug her shirt over her head and our kiss breaks for a moment, but as soon as the shirt is flung to the floor, our mouths find each other again. My hands travel up her body to tangle into her hair. Tilting her head to the side, my lips fall from hers, down to her neck. Her nails dig into my shirtless back as a gasp leaves her lips.

  “Oh, Foster,” she cries, “I need you now.”

  “You have me,” I whisper, claiming her mouth with mine once again as I begin backing her up to the bed. We fall onto it in a tangled mess as I kiss down her body while my greedy hands explore all my favorite parts. At times like this, I’m reminded of why I married her, even if it was a drunken mistake. The life I live isn’t good enough for Harley. She deserves more than a husband who works too much, and who’s always gone on business trips. She needs someone who will be home with her every single night. Someone she can cook dinner with and snuggle up to in bed. That isn’t me—well, it won’t be, anyway. Not after I take over my father’s company. I’ve seen what his job has done t
o my mother.

  I’m sure my parents were probably in love at some point in time, but thanks to my dad always putting his work first, she’s turned into a person she never was before. Now all she cares about is hosting the best dinner parties, her Sunday morning tea, and that stupid garden club she’s in. Harley needs more, and as badly as I wish I could be that man, my life is already planned out.

  I push those thoughts away. One day, I won’t have her anymore, and it’s a day I don’t want to think about. Right now, I just want to enjoy the feeling of her in my arms. I unfasten her jeans and push them down her legs. Her panties come with them, and finally, she’s completely bare for me. I kiss down her jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach. I go further, running my tongue between her folds. When my tongue flicks against her clit, her hips jerk upward and a dirty moan leaves her lips. I tighten my grip on her, holding her in place with my hands on her hips as my mouth takes what it wants. I flick, lick, and suck until her body is completely weak and spent. The sheet beneath her is wet, and I wipe my face off on it quickly before rising up between her parted legs. I position myself at her entrance and slide in before she’s even come down from her last high. Connecting feels explosive. Her muscles automatically tighten around me and she whimpers, causing my cock to twitch inside her.

  Still holding her hips in my hands, I pull back and thrust in deeper. Her back arches upward and her chest rises with it. I lean my head down, catching one of her hard nipples between my lips. I flick my tongue against it and suck until she lowers her back to the bed. Then I grind my hips against her before repeating the process.

  She gets off one more time before I flip her over and slide in from behind. Her body already seems weak and limp, but she doesn’t want to stop any more than I do. Her chest is against the bed while she’s up on her knees, ass in the air for me. I pound into her again and again, feeling my release rising with each thrust. But I’m not ready to stop. I’ve been yearning for her all week and I’m not ready to let go just yet. I hold back my release, wanting more of her in every way possible.