Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) Read online

  “Then why hasn’t she told you?”

  “I’m fairly certain she’s just waiting for the right time. She had no control over things when she was pregnant with Ayla, and I’m pretty sure she wants to do it the right way this time. I don’t care when or how she tells me, because I know no matter what spectacular way she chooses, it’ll be the best thing I’ve ever heard her say.”

  We both looked across the yard at my sister, admiring the pure joy that lit her face as she sat with Ayla in her lap. Fate was all around me, in so many different forms. And it was clear that if there were ever a perfect example of how fate works, it was Axel and Bree.

  I moved my attention from my beautiful sisters and niece to my dad and Bentley standing over by the grill. They seemed to be in a serious conversation, although they were pointing to the steaks. Leave it to Bentley to find food such a serious topic of discussion. And it warmed me to know that my dad now had someone to talk to, and I felt instantly at ease.

  Bentley made everything seem so effortless. Dealing with grief, becoming happy again, being around family…he made it easy. Sitting with my loved ones and laughing like we used to before Christmas, letting go and just being myself like I used to be, I realized so much. I thought back to Bentley’s words from before.

  I’d finally opened my eyes.

  And I wasn’t falling.

  I was soaring.

  The day after the barbecue was Fourth of July. I didn’t have to work, and I thought I’d spend the time off with Bentley, but he had other plans. He stayed for breakfast after we woke up, but then headed out to get things ready for his surprise. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it, but the smile on his face released the swarm of flurries in my stomach. I knew it would be something special, and I couldn’t wait for it.

  He called a few times during the day, just to check up on me and see how I was doing, but other than that, he wouldn’t give me any clue as to what he had up his sleeve. I actually found the suspense exciting. It’d been a while since someone had taken the time to surprise me, and anticipating what he had planned gave me butterflies in my stomach as well as a lingering grin all day.

  Finally, at seven that night, he called and asked me to come over to Luke’s house. I wasn’t expecting that, and I’m sure he picked up on my hesitation. After informing me that his cousin knew of his plans and wouldn’t be home all night, I relented and headed across town.

  It felt strange pulling up to the house after not being there for so long other than the two times we stopped by for Bentley to grab something from his room. But I hadn’t spent any real time there, and I wasn’t sure how to react to being in that house again. It almost felt as though it was a small stab in my sister’s back. But I had to tell myself that Clari knew about Bentley, and she’d made it perfectly clear that she had no interest in Luke anymore. I had to trust that to be true and stop worrying about it all.

  Bentley met me at the front door with a kiss that curled my toes, and then he led me through to the kitchen where dinner sat on the table. I could tell he’d put a lot of time into preparing it. Candles lit the room, glowing around us, and it immediately set me at ease. He always knew exactly what to do to calm me down.

  “Yesterday at your dad’s house was nice. We haven’t really discussed how you felt about being there around everyone, but you appeared to be happy. I wanted to talk to you last night about it, but you kinda fell asleep early.”

  I offered him a small smile while swallowing my food, appreciating his gentle way of broaching the subject. I hadn’t made it easy for him in the beginning, but over time, it’d become easier to open up with him. “I was exhausted. That Ayla can really tire me out. I don’t know how Bree does it with her.”

  “She’s really cute. It makes me wish I had nieces and nephews. Nothing makes things better than having kids around.” The way he spoke of children made my stomach dip, and I had to swallow hard past the lump in my throat caused by the questions his words provoked. But before I could say anything about it, he kept talking. “Were you ever able to talk to Clarissa like you’d wanted to?”

  “Yes. I talked to her before we got there—while you were in the shower. Turns out, Luke was telling the truth about Clari being the one to call him. But it doesn’t really matter because it seems like Clari is happy with how things turned out for her. I really believe she made the right decision by marrying Joel.”

  “So you’re fine with it now?”

  I shrugged, not really knowing what to say about it all. “I mean, it was never my business to begin with. It doesn’t really matter who made the call or what transpired after that. I think I was just hurt by you knowing and not telling me. It was like you were keeping it from me for a reason, and I didn’t like that.”

  “I’ve told you why I didn’t tell you.”

  “I know. And I understand. But I’d always thought that you were a stranger to me—and you were. But I was never a stranger to you. I’ve had a hard time working that out in my head. Figuring out what was coincidence and what was planned. You know?”

  Silence filled the room, and when I hesitantly glanced up, I realized his dark eyes bored straight into mine, dancing in the soft glow of the candlelight. A heaviness settled over the table as he stared at me, his gaze flitting between my eyes. “Sarah…it was never like that. I swear. It’s not like I had all this information about you or anything. I simply knew who you were.”

  “I know. I know that now, Bentley. And I’m fine with it. But at the time…” My shoulders hunched forward as frustration over not having the right words settled in my chest. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

  “Can you try?”

  My gaze dropped to the table between us as I thought about it—about the fears I’d had and the paranoia that surrounded me since finding out—but I couldn’t bring myself to explain it to him. I couldn’t find the right words without sounding too serious too fast. I knew how I felt about him—or at least I thought I did. And the last thing I wanted to do was open my mouth and spill everything, only for him to tell me he didn’t feel the same. So I decided to keep my mouth closed and my thoughts to myself.

  “No. I’m sorry, Bentley. But I can’t explain it.”

  His posture softened as he started pushing his food around on his plate. I reached across the table and placed my hand over his, feeling his hurt deep in my bones and needing to rectify it.

  “It’s not because it’s bad. I promise. I just don’t have the words right now.”

  “Is it because of me? Or something I’ve done? Is it Luke or your sister? If you’re fine with it now, I don’t understand why you can’t talk to me about it. I thought things between us were going well. We’ve been talking about all kinds of stuff for weeks now. You’ve opened up and come out of your shell so much it’s like the girl I found sitting at the bar doesn’t even exist anymore. And yesterday at your dad’s house, you—”

  “Bentley.” The strong, determined man seemed buried behind insecurity I’d never seen before, and I needed to make it go away before my ribs cracked under the pressure his defeated presence caused. “It has nothing to do with any of that. You haven’t said nor done anything bad. It’s not about Luke or my sister. Well, kinda. But not really.”

  “You’re not making any sense, Sarah.” The corners of his mouth were tight as he tried to fight his smile. I had replaced his ramblings with my own and could tell he found my inability to say anything coherent comical. The humor in his voice afforded me the chance to breathe normally again.

  “I know. And that’s why I can’t explain it. Because no matter how hard I try, I won’t make any sense. But I promise, once I get it all straight in my head, I’ll share everything with you.”

  My explanation seemed to pacify him for the rest of dinner. And once we finished eating, we both worked together to clean up. It only took us a few minutes to finish the few dishes we used. But those few minutes were spent in silence, with Bentley suddenly acting strange.

  �
��What’s going on?” I asked once he closed the dishwasher and set it to start the cycle.

  His chin tilted and his eyes blinked in confusion, but once he realized I’d questioned his quiet mood, his expression relaxed into an easy smile. “Nothing. I don’t want to miss the second part of our date. I must’ve been focused on getting everything clean so you wouldn’t miss anything.”

  “Oh? There’s more?”

  “There’s always more, my lo—Sarah.” He turned his attention away from me, clearly uncomfortable with what he almost said. His slip up hadn’t bothered me one bit; in fact, it excited me, for all of two seconds before he corrected himself, appearing regretful.

  I was stricken silent, not knowing how to respond to that. I wanted to tell him it was okay, and that it didn’t bother me that he’d almost called me “my love,” but his reaction forced me to keep my mouth shut. And then I thought about things he’d said to me before, about having a broken heart when coming here and needing support and time to heal. Someone had clearly hurt him, and it made me wonder if he used to call her that—the one who’d broken his heart. Maybe it was habit and had absolutely nothing to do with me. But that made me feel worse, thinking that someone else might still own his heart when I fully believed I’d already given him mine.

  He took my hand and led me out back, not once speaking or glancing at me. The deafening silence overpowered me as he pulled me along, leading the way to the back yard. Our unspoken words, mine of love and his of…regret over his slip up, were all I could think of. My steps faltered a few times, making me stumble in the dewy grass as I fought to keep up with him, but it had nothing to do with his pace and everything to do with the pounding in my head and chest. Once we got closer to the lake, I knew where we were headed—to the same spot where he had me paint my feelings on the dock. Normally, remembering the closeness that’d developed between us that night would’ve induced excitement. But now I couldn’t seem to shut off my mind and make my worried thoughts go away. They filled my head and cast a gloomy haze over my mood.

  When we finally made it to the small dock, I noticed he’d set up an elaborate pallet of blankets and pillows. There were a few unlit candles around the edges in small glass jars. Bentley helped me down to the pile of blankets that added a comfortable layer of cushion to the wood below, and then lit the candles on either side of us.

  “The city has their fireworks display just over the trees there. It took me forever to make sure we can see them since Luke didn’t live here last year, but the neighbors all told me this is the perfect spot to see them. We won’t have the lights of the buildings to take away from the view like they do downtown.” He sounded normal again, as if the exchange in the kitchen hadn’t happened. But it did little to ease my apprehension.

  He’d set out pillows for us to lie down, but I couldn’t seem to relax enough to do so. Instead, we both just sat next to each other, practically shoulder to shoulder with our legs pulled up close to our bodies, our arms wrapped around our shins, staring silently out into the darkness over the calm lake.

  “You’re very quiet.” His whispered observation sounded full of trepidation, and it made it even harder to look his way. I didn’t want him to see the anxiety on my face.

  Instead, I kept my gaze off into the distance, giving myself a moment to work through my nerves. I needed to say something—anything, I knew that much. But I had no idea where to start or how much to share. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin his night with a passive-aggressive argument. But it was too late to lie. He’d see through it before I even had two words out.

  “Just thinking,” I answered, keeping it vague in the hopes it would give me more time to find the nerve to speak the truth. My heart thudded angrily, frantically beating against my ribs, and my hands shook, which only made me clasp them together more to keep him from seeing it.

  “About?”

  “You…me…us.”

  He was silent, but still, I couldn’t turn his way. I wouldn’t allow myself to witness the apprehension I knew I’d see in his eyes once I finished talking. It was better if I continued to keep my line of sight straight ahead at anything and everything—except Bentley. Otherwise, I’d never be able to get it all out, and then I’d spend the rest of the night with my thoughts eating me alive.

  “I’m just really confused about everything. And I know we decided to wait until after Bree and Axel’s wedding to cross this bridge, but I don’t know if I can anymore.”

  “You don’t know if you can cross the bridge?”

  “I don’t know if I can wait.”

  “Then don’t. I never want you to hold anything back from me. Look at me, Sarah.” He gently held my arm, waiting for me to give him my attention. After hesitating a moment, I finally turned my head, noticing how the soft glow of candlelight danced in his eyes. “If you’re feeling something, anything, I want you to talk to me about it. I know what we said the other night about waiting, but if you want to talk about it now, let’s do it. Let’s talk. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

  My chest squeezed tight as he spoke. His every word hit me like a head-on collision with a freight train. I had to wait a few seconds until I had the ability to speak again. His words had given nothing away as to how he felt, but I thought I’d picked up a hint of dread in his tone.

  “Bentley…” I had to shake my head and turn away again, his intense gaze stealing the words from my tongue and the thoughts from my head.

  “If you’re done with me…if you don’t want me here anymore, please…just say it. Just get it over with so we can talk about it.” The complete desperation in his hoarse, gritty tone forced me to snap my attention back to his face. His gentle expression offered me a small amount of hope and courage.

  “That’s not it at all. It’s the complete opposite, to be honest with you. But I don’t know how you feel, so I’m scared to say anything.” I waited for him to respond, to give me something, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to mine, his heated hand never leaving my upper arm. “Fine. Here goes nothing. Rejection be damned.”

  He turned his body slightly, just enough to face me more than the lake in front of us, and tilted his head to the side.

  “I’m better now than I was before. I feel happier. I’m not as sad. And I can’t even tell you when the last time was that I truly lost it over my mom. I went to her house yesterday, and I was okay. I went to bed last night, and not once did I feel the need to bury my face in my pillow and let out the pain like before. I still get sad from time to time when I see or hear something, and my first thought is to tell her. But it’s different now. Because instead of losing it, or breaking down, I realize I now have someone else to call. And maybe that’s a bad thing. Maybe that just means I’ve become dependent on you instead of relying on myself. But either way, the point is, I feel better. And it’s only been two weeks. And I have you to thank for that.”

  “If I were to leave tomorrow, what would happen to you?”

  His question came out of nowhere and suffocated me, but I pushed the emotion down and thought logically in order to give him an honest answer. “If you left tomorrow, I’d be incredibly sad.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have someone to talk to?”

  I shook my head adamantly. “No. Because I’d miss you.”

  “What about me would you miss?”

  “All of you.” The answer charged right out without an ounce of hesitation. “We’ve talked before about fate, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I have to believe that I’m doing better because of you, because I’ve had you with me to help me overcome things I wasn’t able to see on my own. And therefore, I have to believe that you saw me at that bar for a reason. Call it fate or circumstance—I don’t care. But you were there at a time when I needed someone the most and you seemed to be the perfect fit for what I needed. You had no pressing matters to make you go home, and you stayed—for me. You stayed because you wanted to help me. I still don’t understand why, but I can�
��t question that anymore. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you didn’t go home. You stayed with me, and you forced me to face my shit. I truly feel better now because of it.

  “But then I found out about Luke. That made me question where fate fit in to their situation—whether things were supposed to happen that way, or if they were somehow cheated out of their own destiny. However, even after I told my sister about the house and the ring, she told me that she was happy with her decision to marry Joel. That led me to believe that everything worked out exactly the way it was supposed to. Clari got her fate, I’m sure Luke will find his, and everything is right in the world. Which, again, makes me think you finding me when you did, knowing who I was and what I was going through…I mean, that’s gotta be fate, right?”

  When Bentley didn’t come back with an immediate response, I studied him, catching the way he carefully bit his lip as if contemplating an answer. It should’ve been easy, but he didn’t seem to think so. I tried to say something else, but then his eyes settled on mine, and it made me bite my tongue, needing to hear his words more than I needed my next breath.

  “We never know what’s fate and what isn’t. It’s simply a belief. But I think it’s that belief that keeps us going, keeps us fighting for what we want.”

  “Is there some other reason why you were at that bar that night?”

  He glanced down for a moment before meeting my gaze again, fear filling his downturned eyes before they softened. “I was meeting someone. I needed to see this person face to face because I had something I needed to tell her. It was my last chance, and I didn’t want to go home without getting what I needed off my chest. But then I saw your eyes. I saw how sad you were, and at that point, nothing else mattered.”

  “Who were you meeting?” I didn’t want the answer, yet I wanted it so badly. My head and heart were at war with one another, needing to know everything, but also fearful of the truth.