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

  “He does make me happy,” I agree. “But I don’t know about love. I’ve never been in love before,” I confess.

  She gives me a knowing smile. “Or you haven’t realized what it really is yet.” She raises her hand and the waiter stops in front of us. “I think we’re ready to order,” she tells him.

  But I’m not ready to order. I’m too lost in what she just said. Do I love Foster? I love the way he makes me feel. I love spending time with him. I love the way he makes me laugh and forget all of my problems when we’re together. Is that what love is?

  “And for you?” the waiter asks, looking down at me now.

  “Oh. Uh . . .” I look at the menu but have no idea what it says. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to read. “I’ll have what she’s having.” I hand over my menu, thankful that I’m not a picky eater.

  Bianca smiles and lets out a small squeal. “Daddy is going to love this bill. What do you say to some champagne?”

  I laugh. “What are we celebrating?”

  She shrugs. “Your marriage,” she laughs, and I practically spit water out of my nose. “Waiter?”

  We take extra time with lunch. We talk about the work she’s doing with robotic prosthetics and we chat about my job. From listening to her talk, I can tell that she’s extremely smart and passionate about her goals and dreams. She also has a big heart and cares deeply for people. I’ve never felt so bad about myself. I wish I could be more like her. But she makes sure to compliment what I do and point out what she admires, making me feel better. That’s when I know that even though she’s rich, beautiful, and smart as hell, she’s also sweet and caring, and could totally become one of my best friends.

  After stuffing ourselves completely full, we get up to leave, pausing outside the restaurant to say our goodbyes. She pulls me in for a hug and her sweet scent washes over me. I’m convinced this woman is perfect. She smells amazing too.

  “Go to your man and keep him far away from me,” she jokes with a smile as she pulls back.

  I laugh. “I’ll do my best,” I promise, turning and walking to my Jeep. I get behind the wheel and hit the start button. The motor comes alive and purrs. Then I put my seatbelt on and shift into drive. As I make my way home, I can’t help but think back on that lunch and the things she said about Foster. They’re more like brother and sister. They have each other’s backs. She’s not in love with him and doesn’t want to marry him. She sees how much he loves me and thinks we should stay married. Then I remember how she said she could tell I was in love with him. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I mean, sure, I like him a lot—a lot more than I’ve ever liked anyone, but maybe that doesn’t mean anything at all. Yes, I’ve spent more time with him than I have any of the other guys I’ve dated. We’ve also slept together more. Most guys, I’ve slept with once, maybe twice, or three times if it was really good, but never more than three. I don’t know how Foster got under my skin the way he has.

  I make it back to my place, and to my surprise, Foster’s Ferrari is already parked in the driveway. I pull up next to it and climb out. I know I locked the house, so there’s no way he’s inside. I unlock the door and step in.

  “Foster!” I call out for him, but he doesn’t reply. The dogs are jumping around and barking, so I walk into the laundry room and open the back door. They run out into the yard to the corner of the privacy fence where I see Foster’s ass hanging over it.

  I laugh as he jumps down. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to break into your house,” he says, walking across the lawn. He’s dusting off his hands and jeans, panting hard from hopping the six-foot fence.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to surprise you, but your place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. How was lunch?” he asks, leaning in for a kiss.

  I kiss him as I’m laughing and shaking my head. “It was surprising good. Her dad ended up getting called away, then she insisted we rack up a huge bill for him. So we had steak, lobster, shrimp cocktail, wine, champagne, and dessert.”

  He laughs. “That sounds like Bianca.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I met up with Matt and we had lunch and a few beers.”

  “The rest of your day is cleared?” I ask, feeling hopeful and excited about the thought that I could have him to myself the rest of the day.

  “Yep. Got anything in mind that we could do?”

  I smile as I reach out and grab his wrist. “Oh, I have a few ideas.” I start tugging him into the house, leaving the dogs outside to play and enjoy the warm sunshine.

  I’m at work Monday morning—going through the motions of trying to stay busy with nothing much to do. My cell phone rings and I pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, bitch! What’s going on?” Cora asks, sounding cheerful.

  I laugh at her greeting. “Oh, you know . . . just trying to make it look like I’m working when all I’m really doing is fucking around. What are you doing?”

  “I just got a call, and as it turns out, our dresses are ready. Can you bail on work and come try on your maid of honor dress?”

  Hmm. I’m not a big wedding person and frilly dresses aren’t my favorite. “Buy me brunch and I’ll be more willing,” I joke.

  “Deal. I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.” She hangs up without saying goodbye. She’s probably willing to take any offer I give her.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m climbing into the passenger seat of her car.

  “I’m so excited!” she squeals.

  I laugh. “Me too. I’m thinking a stack of pancakes and bacon.”

  She smacks my arm. “I meant about trying on our dresses, not brunch.”

  I laugh and she rolls her eyes, then turns the car around to head in the opposite direction. “So, how are the wedding plans coming along?”

  “Great. I’ve got nearly everything done.”

  “I haven’t received an invitation yet,” I point out.

  “I just dropped them in the mail. Give it a couple days.”

  “How is Jimmy feeling about the wedding?”

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s not interested in any of it. I’ve tried involving him, but all he ever does is shrug and space out. He’s like you when it comes to weddings.”

  “Maybe he’s getting cold feet,” I say, dazing off at the stores and shops as we fly past them.

  “Don’t you dare say that!”

  “What?” I nearly jump.

  “It took me nearly three years to get him to propose. Don’t jinx me now.”

  I laugh. “I’m sorry. Of course he’s not getting cold feet. He loves you. He’s just a guy and is probably more interested in the reception than the wedding.”

  She gets quiet.

  “What?”

  She shrugs. “He doesn’t really seem all that interested in the reception either.”

  “Really?” Most guys love the reception. It’s like a giant party with unlimited drinks.

  She nods. “Yeah, I’ve asked him about what he thinks we should serve for dinner, if he wants a band or DJ, and if we should opt for an open bar or not, and he just shrugs.”

  “Well, first of all, always opt for an open bar! It’s the least you can do for all the people who have to sit through a long, boring-ass ceremony. And second, maybe he’s just nervous. Maybe he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong thing or something.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, enough about my fiancé’s lack of interest in the wedding. Tell me about what’s going on with you! Are you still seeing that guy who bailed you out of jail?”

  I laugh. “His name is Foster, and yes, I am.”

  “Whoa, this has to be some sort of record for you.”

  I laugh. “It is.”

  “So, you think he’s the one?”

  I roll my eyes. “Geez, Cora. Not everyone is looking for the one.”

  “I know, but you know what I mean. Could he be the one you end up with?”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honest
ly, I don’t know. He’s a great guy and I really like him. We always have fun together and he’s great in bed. It’s just that it’s hard for me to see past the immediate future, you know? Like I can see us going to a concert next month. I can see us attending your wedding in three months. I can even see us still hanging out next year. But after that? I don’t know.”

  She shakes her head. “Maybe it’s best if you just take things one day at a time.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing. It keeps me sane and everything is always a surprise.”

  The car is quiet for a moment and I enjoy the silence. When it’s quiet, it means I don’t have to explain myself or the kind of relationship I always tend to get myself into.

  “So, do you love him?”

  I groan. “For fuck’s sake, Cora . . .”

  She laughs. “What? It’s a simple question. Do you love him?”

  “It’s not a simple question,” I argue.

  “Well, do ya?”

  I roll my eyes. “No, I don’t love him,” I say, but even as the words are leaving my lips, I wonder if I’m lying—to her and myself. Do I love him? I haven’t figured that part out yet.

  “I don’t know if I buy that,” she says, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

  “I don’t know if I buy it either, but it’s the only answer I have right now.”

  We finish our drive to our favorite brunch spot and have breakfast and coffee. When we’re done, we drive across town to the dress shop. I try on my peach-colored dress and stand there bored as she fawns over every inch of it. The dress isn’t bad, but it’s not exactly my taste either. But hey, this isn’t my wedding, so who really cares? The dress fits perfectly, so no adjustments need to be made. I’ve never been more happy in my life than when I finally get to take the thing off. Back in my normal clothes, I sit on the white sofa with a glass of champagne as I wait for her to come out of the dressing room in her wedding dress.

  The door opens and she steps out, looking more beautiful than ever. The dress is white and made entirely of lace. It has a high neckline, long sleeves, and a long train. But it fits tightly, hugging every curve until it flares out around her knees and feet. She steps up on the platform and looks at herself in the mirror.

  “So, what do you think? Did I make the right choice?”

  My eyes tear up as I nod. “It’s perfect for you.”

  She smiles wide as her eyes move back to the mirror to take herself in.

  Our day finally ends and she takes me back to my car that I left at work. As I’m climbing out, she stops me.

  “Harley?”

  I pause and turn back to look at her.

  “Think about it,” is her request.

  “Think about what?” I ask, confused.

  “Think about how you feel about him. I’d hate for you to realize your true feelings when it’s too late.”

  I nod and climb out. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do need to sit down and have a long talk with myself—get everything figured out and on the table, then let him do whatever he wants once I reveal this new information about how I feel.

  Twelve

  Foster

  I get pulled out of my office on Monday and find myself sitting across from my father and next to Bianca’s father, listening to them tell old business stories in my father’s office. After listening to their pissing contest, I finally say, “Well gentlemen, this has been fun, but I do have work that needs my attention.”

  “Sit down,” my father says. “I didn’t ask you here to exchange pleasantries. We have some business that needs to be discussed.”

  I’d just started to stand—just gotten my ass out of the seat—but I lower it back down and get comfortable. “Okay, what can I do for the two of you?” I know what they’re going to say, but I play along.

  “William here,” my dad starts, motioning toward Bianca’s father, “has brought over the contracts for merging our businesses after you and Bianca are married. Now, we could do this ourselves, but we’re doing you a favor here. This merger will bring you a lot of money and attention—even media coverage. By leaving this to you, you’ll get the recognition. So once you and Bianca are married and back from your honeymoon, I’ll leave the company to you and step down. Then William will announce his retirement by selling his company to you. You’ll merge the two, and everything will be set up for you to live out the rest of your lives as you become rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

  Both men give me shit-eating grins, like their life plans are finally coming to fruition.

  “All of this sounds great, guys, but I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet.”

  Dad smiles. “But you will soon. You found the ring, right?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’ve been looking for one but haven’t found the right ring yet. I’ve been thinking about having it custom-made, but that could take three to six months.”

  William shakes his head. “No, we don’t have that kind of time.”

  “You don’t have three to six months?” I ask.

  “Not when you consider how long the wedding planning process will take. If it takes you six months to propose, it will take another year before you actually get married. And 18 months is too long to wait. I’m ready to retire.”

  I feel speechless. I don’t know what to say. I was hoping to buy myself more time.

  “I’ll give you one week. One week to find the ring. Then we’ll all come to my place for a family dinner. You can propose there.” William stands and shakes hands with my father. “It was good to see you again. Let me know when you have those papers signed and I’ll send my lawyer over to get them.”

  “Have a nice day, William,” my dad says, but I’m left shocked.

  One.

  Week.

  One week to find a ring and propose to Bianca?

  My heart starts racing and my palms get sweaty. My lungs seem to stop working. I’m taking in oxygen, but it’s not enough. I barely hear the soft click of the door closing behind William, then my father’s voice is ringing too loud in my ears.

  “Does that timeline work for you, Foster?”

  I’m still dazed. Too spaced out to put a sentence together. All I can think of is: I need to get out of here. I need fresh air. I need to clear my head and put a plan together. I need out.

  I can’t do anything but nod as I stand up, feeling a little dizzy, and stumble to the door. I open it, rush through it, and close it behind me a little too loudly.

  “Mr. Wilder? Are you all right?” the assistant asks, but I ignore her as I push my way toward the elevator.

  Inside, I hit the button for the ground level and lean against the wall as I ride it down. The small elevator makes my breathing problem worse. It’s too small. There’s not enough air. I feel like a fish out of water. I just need space. I need air.

  The doors open and I practically run out of the elevator, across the lobby floor, and out the front door. The moment I’m outside, I take in a big gulp of oxygen and the dizziness starts to fade. I walk over to the brick water fountain and have a seat on the edge. I rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head, reminding myself to take slow, deep breaths. Five minutes pass before I realize what’s just happened. My father asked if I was okay with that timeline and I nodded. But I’m not okay with that! I just agreed to propose in one week!

  My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket and answer it without looking at who’s calling. “Hello?”

  “What the fuck, Foster?” Bianca nearly yells into the phone.

  “I know,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry. It just . . . it happened so fast that I freaked out. I didn’t know what to say or do. I panicked!” I’m up now, pacing back and forth in front of the fountain.

  “What are we going to do? One week?”

  I shake my head as my heart keeps up its quick pace. “I don’t know. I mean, how long do we play this out? Should I propose and then back out before the actual wedding?”

  “What? No, no, you’re not supposed
to propose. God, you’re an idiot!”

  “I’m an idiot? This isn’t my plan, Bianca!”

  “Yes, an idiot. What do you think Harley will think of you proposing to me? Do you really think she’ll stay by your side when you’re technically engaged to me?”

  I laugh. “Well, if we’re getting technical, I’m already married to her.” That reminds me, I need to talk to my lawyer and see where we stand on this whole getting unmarried thing.

  “Yes! Yes you are. You need to let the cat out of the bag. Tell our parents next week that you’re already married and that you’re in love with her. She’s the one you want. Not me.”

  “What do you think your dad is going to say about me running off and marrying your best friend behind your back? He was just here with contracts, Bianca! They’ve already planned the merger.”

  I hear her take a deep breath and she lets it out slowly. “Harley being my friend does complicate things, but we’ve known about their plans to merge for years now, and that never made us want to get married before. That’s business. There are more important things at stake here. Like the fact that the two of you are completely in love with each other and you’re about to divorce her and marry me—a woman who couldn’t be more romantically repulsed by you.”

  I sit back on the fountain and comb my fingers through my hair. “When it comes to Harley and me, we . . .”

  “What?”

  “We haven’t talked about how we feel. We’ve always agreed that when the time comes, we’ll let go. I don’t even know how she feels about me.”

  “How do you feel about her?”

  How do I feel about her? “That’s a good question.”

  “Well?”

  I chuckle, unsure of what to say. I see a series of memories flashing before my eyes. I see her at the bar that very first night. I see the annoyance on her face when I picked her up from the police station. I remember that next day in my guest bedroom. I see every moment between us: Vegas, bungee jumping, her incredible laugh, the way her green eyes shine brightly, the way the corners of her mouth always pull up and betray her when she’s trying to hold back a giggle. I can feel her heat and smell her sweet scent. I can feel all the love and kindness she holds within her. And I know. I know I love her. The question is: Do I love her enough to give up my destiny?