Chapter 2
Chapter Two
BLAKE
Present
“Where do you want this, Mr. Donovan?” The mover wipes sweat from his brow and gestures to my oversized leather sectional.
I stand in the driveway of my new mansion, hands on my hips as I survey the movers unloading furniture and boxes from the trucks.
“In the living room, against that far wall,” I direct him.
As the mover nods and maneuvers the couch through the front door, satisfaction swells in my chest. This is it. My new home in Cooper Hills Estates.
I’ve worked my ass off to get here. Working late nights and weekends, I’ve poured everything I have into Donovan Enterprises. And it’s paid off. Business is booming, and I’m the last of my brothers to finally get my own place.
Drew’s living it up in his downtown penthouse with Eliza, and Heath’s got that huge cabin out in the woods with Willow. But this, a mansion to call my own? I’ve earned every square foot of it.
“Quite the pad you got here,” the other mover comments. Jim, I think his name is. “Lotsa space. The wife and kids moving in too?”
His casual question catches me off guard. “Oh, uh, no. No wife or kids. It’s just me.”
“Really? Six bedrooms for one guy?” Jim raises his eyebrows. “Seems like a waste. No offense.”
I force a chuckle, but his words strike a chord. Is it a waste? Am I missing out on something by being alone?
I’ve never been the type to dream about white picket fences and two point five kids. That’s more Drew and Heath’s style. They’re the charmers, the social butterflies. I’ve always been the quiet one, the introvert who’d rather have his nose in a book than work a room.
It’s not that I don’t want love or a family. I do. I just haven’t found the right woman yet. Someone who gets me and appreciates my quirks and passions.
Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one woman. One incredible, unforgettable night in Vegas...
The shrill ring of my cell snaps me out of my thoughts. I fish it from my pocket and see Heath’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Blake, I need a favor.” Heath’s voice is slightly tinny through the speaker. “Willow and I are up to our eyeballs in wedding planning, and we completely forgot about getting her security deposit back from her old landlord. Could you swing by and pick it up?”
Two weeks ago, Heath’s girlfriend—and now fiancée—Willow had a huge leak in her apartment that practically flooded the place. Fortunately for Heath, it was the perfect excuse to have Willow move into his big cabin in the woods. And now the two of them are engaged to be married.
“I’d go myself,” Heath continues, “but we’ve got the caterer coming in like twenty minutes, and Willow’s about to have a meltdown.”
I glance out the window at the movers loading up the last of the boxes. “Yeah, sure. I’m pretty much done here anyway. Just send me the address.”
“Thanks bro, you’re a lifesaver. I owe you one.”
“More than one,” I joke. “But who’s counting?”
Heath laughs. “True that. Okay, gotta run. Thanks again!”
The line goes dead, and a moment later, a text pops up with the landlord’s address. I grab my keys and head for the door, trying to ignore the nagging emptiness in my chest.
As I navigate the suburban streets, my mind wanders to my love life. Or lack thereof.
It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve dated, even had a few short-lived relationships. But nothing’s ever felt right. No one’s ever made my heart race, my palms sweat, my soul ache with longing.
No one except her.
I can still picture her so clearly. Those captivating eyes, that teasing grin, the way her body fit so perfectly against mine. I fell hard and fast that night in Vegas, harder than I ever have before or since.
She was young, probably too young for me. Barely twenty-one. But the connection between us was undeniable, magnetic. From the moment I saw her sitting alone at that bar with her nose buried in a romance novel, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
I remember the thrill that ran through me when she looked up at me and the way her cheeks flushed as I introduced myself. We talked for hours about books and life and everything in between.
She was so smart and so passionate. So different from any woman I’d ever met. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I couldn’t get enough of her sweet laugh, her quick wit, or the way she bit her lip when she was thinking.
I knew it was a bad idea to hook up with a stranger in a club bathroom. I’ve never been that kind of guy. But with her, I couldn’t help myself. The need was too strong, the desire too overpowering.
It was the best sex of my life. Raw and primal and so fucking perfect. The way she moved beneath me, the little gasps and moans she made, the way she clung to me as she came apart in my arms...
I thought it was the start of something incredible. I thought we had a connection, something real and rare and precious.
But then she got that call. I heard her say something about her sister and a car accident. And just like that, she was pulling away from me and mumbling apologies as she fumbled with her clothes.
I begged her not to go. I begged her to talk to me and let me help. But she just shook her head with tears in her eyes and fled. I tried to go after her, but she disappeared into the crowd and I lost her. I searched for hours, asked everyone I could find if they’d seen her.
But it was like she’d vanished into thin air.
I’ve thought about her every day since. Wondering where she is and if she’s okay. If she ever thinks about me the way I can’t stop thinking about her.
Maybe pining over a woman I barely know is pathetic. A woman whose last name I didn’t even get. But I can’t help it. She got under my skin and into my heart in a way no one else ever has.
And now, more than a year later, I still haven’t been able to shake her.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to touch another woman or try to move on.
Because deep down, in a part of me I rarely let see the light of day, I’m still hoping.
Still clinging to the faintest chance that somehow, someday, I’ll find her again.
I pull up to the curb and double check the address Heath sent me. Yep, this is the place. It’s a lower middle-class neighborhood, with small single-family homes and chain-link fences. Not exactly the Ritz.
As I make my way up the cracked sidewalk, I steel myself for an awkward interaction. Let’s just get this over with.
I raise my fist and knock on the door, paint chipping under my knuckles. A muffled “Coming!” sounds from inside. I rock back on my heels, hands shoved in my pockets.
The lock clicks and the door swings open. And suddenly, I can’t breathe.
Because standing there, eyes wide with shock, is her.
Julie.
“Blake?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing.
I’m speechless as my heart pounds against my ribs. How is this possible? What are the chances?
“Julie.” Just saying her name aloud makes my chest ache with longing. “What... What are you doing here?”
She bites her lip and glances behind her into the house. It’s small and cluttered, with peeling wallpaper and worn furniture. Not at all where I would have pictured her living.
“Why don’t you come inside,” she says finally, pulling the door open wider.
As I step over the threshold, my mind reels.
This doesn’t make any sense. What is she doing here? How did I not know she lived in the same town as me?
“I’m assuming you’re here to pick up Willow’s security deposit,” Julie says as she leads me into a cramped living room.
I blink at her, confused. “Yeah, how did you know that?”
She sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “My father passed away a few weeks ago. He owned Willow’s apartment building and a few others in town.”
“Oh.” I frown, unsure how to respond. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Julie waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. We weren’t close. Anyway, he left me and my sister this place and his property management business in his will. So I’m in town trying to wrap up his affairs before I head back home to Houston.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. She’s leaving? Again?
But then another part of her statement registers. “Wait, your sister? Is she okay? I remember you said something about an accident that night in Vegas...”
Pain flashes across Julie’s face, and my heart clenches.
Shit.
“She’s fine now,” Julie says quietly. “But it was touch and go for a while. She’s the reason I had to leave so suddenly that night. I’m sorry I didn’t explain, I just...”
She trails off and looks away. An awkward silence settles between us, and I want to kick myself.
I take a step closer to her and reach out to touch her cheek. Her skin is just as soft as I remember. “Baby, what happened that night? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About you.”
Her eyes flutter shut, and she leans into my touch for the briefest of moments. But then a sound cuts through the silence, jarring us both back to reality. There’s a soft coo, followed by a gurgle.
Julie’s eyes snap open wide. She pulls away from me and spins around to face the hallway.
And that’s when I see her.
A beautiful baby girl, crawling toward us on chubby hands and knees. She can’t be more than six months old, with wispy blonde curls and big blue eyes that look strikingly familiar.
My heart races as I take in her delicate features. The curve of her chin, the slope of her nose. It’s like looking in a fucking mirror.
No. It can’t be...
But even as I try to deny it, the truth slams into me with the force of a wrecking ball.
The room starts to spin, and I have to grip the back of the couch to keep from falling over. A million questions race through my mind, but I can’t seem to voice any of them.
All I can do is stare at the tiny miracle in front of me.
Julie scoops the baby up, cradling her against her chest. She won’t meet my gaze, but I can see the tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Is she mine?” I ask, my voice raw with emotion.
Julie doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to.
I already know.