I Love My Chance (Nicole's Erotic Romance 3) Read online

  I Love My…

  Chance

  (Nicole’s Story - Part 3)

  By Sabrina Lacey

  Cover Image of “Mark” © Bikeriderlondon

  Cover Image of New York © Songquan Deng

  Licensed through Shutterstock.com

  © Sabrina Lacey

  Lacey Publications

  All Right Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Prologue

  There are moments in our lives when, as we look back on them, we wish we could climb into a time machine, go back and do things differently. Moments we replay over and over, thinking... why did I do that? Why didn’t I do this, instead? Did I make a mistake? Because it feels like I did. Or was this the right choice and I should just shove down these feelings of loss until they go away? What can I do, now that it’s done? Could I do anything to change it, if I tried? Do I have the courage to jump into the unknown – to try to fix it - without any guarantee that it will all turn out okay? Will there be a price worth paying? Will I lose someone I love? Will I forgive myself for that? Will I forgive them?

  And knowing myself as well as I do, living in this head of mine for as long as I have… I know that whichever road I take, I will wonder. It’s the wondering that kills me. If someone – and by someone, I mean God – could grab me by the shoulders, point me in a direction and say, this is the way to happiness… I would be so grateful. Why can’t it be like that? Why must I hit my head on the proverbial wall - until it breaks down… or until I do?

  This path that I’m on now… little do I know it – but there are moments in it – precious moments – that I will replay soon. Over… and over… and over.

  Forty-Five Minutes After We Left My Place

  I shoot a sideways glance up to Mark’s handsome face. His thumb tenderly caresses the soft underside of my hand as we stroll down the path. His profile has a regal quality to it, his nose strong and noble. The self-assured way he holds his head says he knows who he is. I really admire that about him.

  “Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to beg?” His eyes flicker, but he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he purposefully watches the people around us with more interest. Nice try, buddy. “You’re not getting off that easily,” I sing.

  He still offers me no reaction, pretending not to have heard. Sweeping his free hand across the view, the sunlight catches those tiny gold flecks in his warm brown eyes, taking my breath away, he says, “Look at all this. It’s amazing.” Smiling, I look to see what he wants me to see, Central Park through his eyes. This truly beautiful park is surrounded by skyscrapers on all sides; two and a half miles of trees, flowers, ponds and bridges, with multiple winding cemented paths cutting through. There are two skating rinks, a zoo and a conservatory, though I’ve never been to the zoo. I love coming here. It’s disarming how peaceful it is considering the fact it’s centered smack dab in the center of the craziness that is New York City. Central Park is the perfect symbiotic juxtaposition of nature-meets-urban; mother nature and man dancing together.

  Mark’s gaze falls on the area by the fountain and I look to see people of all races and ages relaxing there, many gesticulating through conversations we’re too far away to hear, their listeners attentive. Mark smiles, watching the joggers – of which there are seemingly millions. All of them are geared up with technology’s latest; staring ahead, breathing hard, feet pounding in a modern beat as they move toward their goals. And since it’s Saturday, there are even more families out than usual, pushing expensive strollers with their children staring out from fastened-in seats, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. Winter is on her way. The locals are out by the truckloads. We embrace the warmth with everything we have for as long as we can, knowing soon it will be necessary to spend most of our time in doors.

  Locals… I’m one. But Mark is not. Don’t think about him going back home, Nicole. Don’t think about it.

  Mark points to a lone retro-painter tucked away with his easel and imagination in a corner of lawn to our left. “I love that guy right there.”

  I nod and, as though the painter could hear me from seventy-five feet away, I whisper, “Look, he even has on a beret like he’s on that hill where the painters used to go in Paris. Or do they still go there? I’m not sure.”

  Mark looks down to me, curious and relaxed. “Have you been to Montmartre?”

  I shake my head, looking at the artist as I talk. “Not yet. I haven’t been to Europe as an adult. I went to Milan and London when my mother was doing the runways, but I was five or six so I don’t remember any of it.” I shoot him a quick smile. “I want to go. Have you been?”

  He brings our hands up to his mouth and kisses my fingers. “Not yet. Let’s make that happen.” He looks up and points to the American Elms lining the path. “Look at the leaves! We have some changing like this in San Francisco, but nothing like this. These are incredible.”

  Their reds, gold and yellows, blended perfectly by Mother Nature, take my breath away every time. If I give myself more than a second to look at them, I can lose myself in their beauty. It opens my heart the same way a sunset does, or a baby’s smile. “They’re beautiful… and they’re all the colors of fire, see?”

  “Spoken like an artist.” He winks at me and once again brings our hands up to kiss my fingertips.

  “Mmm… I love it when you do that.”

  He throws a sexy smile my way. “Yeah? I’ll remember that.”

  I look at his mouth, longing to kiss it forever. I shake my head at my luck and give him a firm playful poke in the ribs. “But you didn’t answer me.”

  He yelps and laughs. “What do you want to know?”

  I roll my eyes. “Come on!”

  Playing innocent, his eyes go cartoon-like and wide. “What?”

  “How did it go with the investors? I’m dying to know and you haven’t said a word about it!”

  His smile falls. His grip loosens on my hand as he frowns. My stomach sinks down with my spirits. It never occurred to me that the meeting wouldn’t go well. Oh God… and here I am, prying! He would have told me if it was good news. He would have shouted it to the whole park! That’s what happens when your dreams get answered, isn’t it?

  I reach over to hold his hand with both of mine, our feet keeping time as the leaves fall around us. “Hey. You know what? There will be more people to talk to. Apps are a huge deal right now. Everyone wants in. You’ll get financial backing sooner than…”

  His free hand flies up to save himself from my pep-talk. “Nicole.”

  “I’m sorry. I should just be quiet about it. It’s none of my business…”

  “Nicole.” He stops walking and faces me, serious. “Guess what?”

  My lips make a thin line and I bite them, feeling horrible. “Mmm?”

  They liked my idea.” He gives me a mischievous smile.

  “They did?” My jaw drops to China.

  “Actually…” His smile expands into the proudest grin. “They loved it.”

  “WHAT?!” I jump up and down, losing myself in my excitement. “Wooohooooo! They loved it! Yeah, they did! Yeah, baby!” He laughs with all of his body, watching me. I stop and stare at him, stone-faced. “Hey. Not fair. You r
eally had me going there.”

  “You should have seen your face.” He grabs me, picks me up and spins me around a few times with me laughing, begging to be put down – and not meaning a breath of it. Soon I’m dizzy for so many reasons. When he lowers me to the ground, we fall into a kiss. I’m as happy for him as I’d be for one of my closest friends. I love hearing about other people’s success. It just means it’s possible.

  We clasp hands and continue strolling, the day brightened more by the good news. “I walked in and there were four of them sitting around a huge conference table looking at me, detached and cold. They were polite, but that’s about it. I was a nervous wreck, but I didn’t let on. And then? When I told them my idea for the game? Their faces changed. You should have seen them! They started throwing ideas around for how to market it. Nicole, I couldn’t believe it. They thought it was great. And not one of them had heard of anything like it.” He gives my hand a strong squeeze, surprised, realizing. “Oh! I forgot! I haven’t told you about the app!”

  I grin at him. “No, you haven’t. What is it?”

  “Well, it’s a game to help teenagers and college kids learn about money. Investing, credit cards, buying homes, the stock market, all of the big stuff. That’s why I wanted something different for the interface, something emotional and different. Something cool that will appeal to them.”

  My body reacts to the compliment, tingling with the sweet feeling of being appreciated. “So your game teaches personal finance?”

  He’s very excited as he continues, “Exactly. There are no personal finance classes in high schools today – not that I’m aware of, and definitely not nationwide. Kids have no idea what to do when they get thrown into the adult world. People say parents are supposed to teach them, but most parents know nothing about finance. I mean, look at our economy! We didn’t get here because people knew what they were doing! The average citizen is afraid to even discuss money. It’s a direct result of a lack of understanding. Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the power money has over us. Fear of thinking we can’t do anything about it. Well, we can take back the power.”

  “And your game will teach them?”

  He nods, but waves his free hand back and forth. “Not how to fix our whole economy now, no. But it will teach kids what to do with their money and they’ll grow up making better decisions and in time, things could drastically change. And with the game, They’ll be able to play their friends, or anyone in the world. The way it’s designed now, the classroom is still teaching things we have no need for. But kids are hugely into technology so I thought, they’re eating up these apps! What if I used technology – through an app, to empower them… to teach them how to become successful?” He looks to me to see if I understand.

  I stop walking and stare at him, flabbergasted. “Mark – seriously – that’s an amazing idea.”

  He grins, his smile strikingly handsome. “You think so?” He comes in closer. The smile shifts to an intimate one… meant for only me. I nod the answer yes. He bends down, his lips close to mine, holding there for a suspenseful moment that quickens my pulse. I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. He kisses me and everything around us disappears – the sounds, the smells, the people – all gone. Sharing this sweet, slow kiss in Central Park on a pretty fall day, without regard to anyone who might be watching, is so beautiful. I willingly give myself over to it, stretching up on my toes, my arms lightly wrapped around his strong neck, my fingers weaved into his hair, my mouth blending with his, our bodies warming against each other.

  Breaking in as though from another world, a male voice interrupts. “Nicole?”

  Mark and I separate, surprised. Standing five feet from us, holding the leash of a dog I didn’t know he had, is Grant. The unexpected sight of him throws me, so at first I don’t remember who he is.

  “Grant! Hi. Is this your dog?” My chipper tone does nothing to cover me.

  Oh no. My slip in recognition is a bad combo with his over-developed ego. He saw it. Plus, seeing me kissing this beautiful man in public, when I wouldn’t kiss him in the kitchen at a small party, rubs him a million wrong ways. Off comes that fucked-up mask of his.

  His mouth says, “So, how’ve you been?” but his eyes say, slut.

  Mark sees his face and my reaction and instinctively puts himself between me and Grant. I shoot a surprised glance at Mark’s back. He seems to have grown, the way he holds himself now, testosterone elongating his 6’4” posture to impossible heights as he warns Grant, “I don’t like the look on your face.”

  Grant blinks, intimidated. His eyes dart from me to Mark and back again. His jaw sets. He glares at Mark, shifty-eyed. He tightens his hold on the leash. His dog sits at attention, waiting for his master’s command. It’s an extremely large and scary mutt. Exactly the size of a dog Grant would have. If people had cars in Manhattan, Grant would have a Hummer. That’s the kind of asshole he is. Fear spirals through my chest. What if he’s taught that dog to attack? This is the moment I’ve been dreading, where everything goes to shit.

  Grant gets eerily still. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, man.”

  Mark is steady, unwavering. “I think you do. Why don’t you move along? You and your puppy.”

  That dog is no puppy. Grant twitches. He glares at Mark, then to me. My fingernails dig into my palms. I hold his stare until he looks away first. With animals like him, you have to. I hold my breath. My heartbeat is pounding… even in my hair follicles. My adrenaline is pumping so hard it hurts. I’m waiting for that dog to lunge, snarling and drooling through the air.

  Grant turns and whispers to it in a barely audible voice, “Looks like we’re not wanted.” He sneaks a scary glance to Mark, and says to the staring dog. “C’mon, buddy.”

  They walk away. I’m stunned! I thought he’d do more. I can’t believe he gave up so quickly. I’m too tense to be relieved, but the surprise is palpable.

  Mark turns to me, about to speak. But he doesn’t get the chance to say what he was going to. Grant doesn’t give him that chance. He yells at us, loud enough for Rhode Island to hear, “I’m going. Because where you are, asshole, I’ve already been. HAVEN’T I, NICOLE?” He keeps walking. He’s a safe distance away from Mark, now and he knows it. The coward.

  Mark tenses, his eyes locked on mine. Oh my God. What is he thinking? Grant just said out loud what I would never want Mark to know. He just planted an image in Mark’s head of Grant and I naked, doing things I don’t want Mark to ever picture me doing with another man. I could deny it. I could worry about what he thinks and lie to his face for the rest of our lives. Like that would ever undo what Grant just did. Fuck this! Anger blows up inside me. A switch in me flips on, fast.

  I step quickly around, taking a couple steps away. Mark spins around, but not quick enough to beat me.

  “HEY, GRANT!”

  Grant turns, his mammoth dog stopping just ahead of him.

  I slam my hands on my hips and cock my head. “Have you been here? Because I don’t remember it. Oh, wait! That two minute college-style rabbit fuck? That was you?!! Oh yeah! I wouldn’t go bragging about that. Because if that’s the best you’ve got, no wonder all you’ve got with you on this beautiful Saturday is a dog!” I look him up and down with a look that says, you’ve gotta be kidding me with your ridiculous self.

  He’s shocked. He looks to Mark.

  “Don’t look to him! This isn’t oh poor me, she just offended my manhood. This is me telling you the truth so you can stop violating women with your ego, your bad sex and your FACE.” I wipe my hands together. “I’m done. Keep moving. You and your puppy.”

  Grant is confused, beyond furious. But I’ve given him nothing but a humiliated leg to stand on. “Bitch.”

  In my sweetest voice, I coo, “Awwww. Is that what you named her?”

  He flips me off, grunts as he’s pulled awkwardly away in a jerking leap by his dog who's just seen a squirrel and races to catch it. A squirrel! And here I thought
that dog was dangerous. My heart is racing. I feel charged, powerful and freaked out, all at once. I’m breathing fast, trying to calm myself.

  “That was hot,” Mark says, behind me.

  I spin around, eyes round. “What?”

  His eyes shine with surprised awe. “As Yoda would say, hot, that was.”

  I’m stunned. All of my anger dissipates, wilting under grateful shock. “You think so?”

  He shakes his head in disbelief, makes a phew sound, impressed. “Yeah. That was fucking hot.”

  I melt. It is in this moment that I realize how important Mark’s opinion is to me. I was so scared he would judge me for so many reasons with what just happened. My heartbeat slamming in my chest was mostly from fear that he would be scared off by any or all of it. And now, looking at him, I’m just plain stunned. I step closer to him, carefully holding out my hand, palm facing him, collecting myself. I still can’t totally believe him. I still feel the need to explain. “Please don’t judge me for dating that jerk. We only had four dates. I was in a bad place. My choices were all screwed up at the time. As soon as I realized he was not a good guy, I ended it.”

  Mark nods, listening. “I understand,” but I don’t even hear him say that because I’ve barely come up for air, talking fast.

  “It’s just that I couldn’t let him get away with saying that about me. Not in front of you. So now you’ve seen it. That’s my temper. Scary, huh? I know. I got it from my father. It’s so embarrassing and… intimidating, I know. I’m working on it. I’ve gotten sooooooo much better, but…” I stop because he’s smiling at me. “What?”

  He gives me a wicked smile, staring at my mouth. “You don’t intimidate me. I said hot… not I’m outta here.”

  “You really thought my temper was hot?”

  He nods, pushes his hands into his pockets. “I’m covering up a tent here, so um… yeah. Unless it’s ever pointed at me, of course. If that happened, I would have to show you who’s boss.”