In Between Heartbeats (Hearts in Waiting Duet: Book Two) Read online

  In Between Heartbeats

  Hearts in Waiting Duet: Book Two

  AMANDA Cuff

  Contents

  1. Addison

  2. Chase

  3. Chase

  4. Addison

  5. Addison

  6. Addison

  7. Chase

  8. Addison

  9. Chase

  10. Addison

  11. Chase

  12. Addison

  13. Chase

  14. Addison

  15. Chase

  16. Addison

  17. Addison

  18. Chase

  19. Addison

  20. Chase

  21. Addison

  22. Chase

  23. Addison

  24. Chase

  25. Addison

  26. Addison

  27. Chase

  28. Addison

  29. Chase

  30. Addison

  31. Chase

  32. Addison

  33. Chase

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  CONTACT

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

  Copyright © 2020 by Amanda Cuff

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including

  photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Edited by Christina Hart of Savage Hart Book Services

  Formatted by J.R. Rogue

  Cover Design by Free to Be Creative Co.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7332593-1-6

  1

  Addison

  Startled awake, I blink my dry eyes open. I rub the butts of my palms into my sockets as if that could somehow wipe away the hours of crying that came the night before, but it’s no use.

  I need eye drops.

  Or more sleep.

  Or a strong black coffee since a cocktail is out of the question.

  Rolling over, I snatch my phone from the side table, the bright screen causing my temples to pound. Let me go on record to state that there’s nothing worse than the hangover that comes from bawling your eyes out for hours on end. Add the pounding at the door on top of that and I feel like my head is in a vice.

  It’s five forty-five in the morning. I spy the notifications of missed calls and texts from Olivia but scroll past them, surprised to see one from Drake sent around midnight.

  Drake: Chase is losing his fucking mind, Addi. Olivia is worried. So worried that she called me, which you know is saying a lot. Tell me you’re okay, pls.

  An hour later, he had sent another.

  Drake: I won’t tell him where you are.

  And then another.

  Drake: Pinky promise.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  My head lolls to the side and I eye the front door with a grimace.

  Who could possibly be banging on the damn door?

  It’s too early for housekeeping and there’s not a soul who knows where I am. I can only assume Chase found me—and I’m not sure how to feel about that.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  Boom.

  This time, the knocks are harder and more impatient, their harshness yanking a groan out of me. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about making Chase wait. My brain feels foggy and I’m still reeling. I’m not sure I’m ready to face him quite yet.

  He’s married. Fucking married.

  No matter how many times I play it over in my head, it still doesn’t seem possible. He wasn’t wearing a ring at Snowcap, and even though he was a little reserved when we first met, he never let on that he had someone waiting for him back home. Neither had Drake, which was almost just as shitty.

  The fire burning in my chest has me dragging my heavy limbs out of bed in a rush. I swallow down the bile that crawls up my throat, threatening to ruin the outburst I have planned. I don’t even bother looking in the crooked mirror hovering over the dresser. I can imagine what I look like, but I’m not in any position to care.

  The harsh realization that I had unknowingly been turned into the other woman starts to heat my blood to a boil. Last night I was hurt, but today, I’m angry. So angry that I’m ready to open the door and tell him exactly where he can shove any explanation he’s come prepared with.

  With that thought fueling my bravery, I unchain the lock on the ancient motel door and allow myself one deep breath before flinging it open. I lick my lips and open my mouth, fully prepared to lay into him with a string of expletives and a wave of anger so hot it will burn us both, but instead of his dark eyes, I’m met with a blue pair that almost matches my own.

  My mouth slams shut and my brow wrinkles in confusion. In front of me is not the conniving asshole whose child is resting deep in my belly.

  Instead, it’s the woman from the bakery.

  Blueberry donut girl.

  “Hi,” she says simply.

  Without a smile on her face, she looks much older than she did yesterday, less vibrant. Today, she looks tired and frail, like she might blow over if I so much as breathe too hard in her direction. Her skin is pale, her eyes chock full of worry.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, the concern clear in my voice.

  She nods, her head rising just an inch, but her lips don’t move from their tight pinch.

  So, I barrel on. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name. Did I tell you I was staying here? I’m…confused.”

  “Uh,” she says, stopping to clear her throat, “my name is Emily.” Her voice is small, but it rushes through the air like a bullet.

  My eyes narrow, tightening the skin between my eyebrows while pain wraps itself around my skull. “You’re Chase’s wife.” My words are barely a whisper, unleashing a realization too large to hold in. I’m not asking for confirmation; her presence and the look of fear on her face is enough to tell me I’m right. “But how…” I trail off, shaking my head almost violently.

  Instinctively, I take a few steps back into the room and she reaches out to stop the door from shutting in her face. I walk over to the mini fridge, flinging the door open so hard that it jostles the entire thing. A bottle of water lands at my feet and I snatch it up in a rush. Slamming the door shut again, I uncap the bottle and take a few harsh gulps, enjoying the cold as it slides down my throat and into my churning stomach.

  I suck the water down until the bottle is empty, then crinkle it in my fist and fight for breath. Suddenly self-conscious, I turn to eye myself in the mirror in front of me. I see myself as Emily sees me. The tear-stained cheeks. The tangled hair. Even the drool marking my chin. I look like I haven’t showered in days, which might actually be the case at this point.

  My throat is in my stomach as I meet her gaze in the mirror. I allow myself to take in the sadness and pity looking back at me, then quickly turn away. Hanging my head low, I grip onto the edge of the dresser and break the silence. “I didn’t know he was married.” When our eyes meet again, she blurs in my view as a fresh set of tears threaten to spill. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She’s moving toward me now, her legs eating up the space between us. I flinch, preparing myself for the wrath I deserve, but she surprises me by wrapping her small arms around me. She’s half a head sho
rter than I am and her arms are so thin, it feels like they’ll break if she hugs me any tighter, but I react instantly, lowering my head to her shoulder and letting the sobs break free.

  Her silent tears join mine, dampening the front of my shirt as she whispers comforting words to me. They don’t register in my mind, but her voice is calm and kind and within minutes, my shoulders relax. With a final sniffle and embarrassed laugh, I pull away.

  “Wow, I’m so sorry,” I say, scrambling to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

  After finding out about her last night, I knew we’d eventually come face-to-face. If Chase has any plans to be in our child’s life, that is. The thoughts of how she would react had circled in my mind, but I never expected our first—or technically second—encounter to consist of her welcoming me into her arms. I expected her to scream at me, slap me, anything other than try to ease my pain.

  “Why are you here, Emily?” I ask her.

  Her shoulders pull up to her ears and she looks just as lost as I feel. “Let’s go talk,” she says, tipping her head in the direction of the small, round table by the window.

  I nod and follow her over, settling into the seat across from hers.

  I start to open my mouth to speak, but she holds one hand up in front of her and says, “I’d like to go first, if that’s okay.”

  My approval is unnecessary and we both know it, so I sit quietly, waiting for her to begin.

  She places her things onto the table. A cell phone, and a set of keys with a black rubber keychain attached—the name Willow in bright purple letters jumping out at me. Guilt stiffens my shoulders as I fight another wave of nausea. I drag my eyes away from the keychain to focus on her hands, which are shaking slightly and twisting on top of the table. Her fingers are short and thin, her nails polish-free and nibbled to the quick.

  “When Chase came home last night, he was really upset. I’ve known him since we were kids and it’s rare for him to be that rattled. I asked him what was wrong, and he told me about you. About the cabins, and you being in town. He told me you ran off when he said he was married, which was a really idiotic lead in from him, I have to say. He didn’t tell me your name or about the baby, but I figured it was you. From the coffee shop.”

  She lets out a laugh then, but there isn’t any humor behind it. It’s only tinged with sadness, piercing the air sharply before fading away.

  “Chase has a good heart, but he’s not very good with the deep stuff, and my mind was reeling too much to get into it with him last night. So, I just went to bed, but I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and how you had to be feeling. It probably sounds silly, but I really liked you when I met you at The Blue Rooster. You were so genuine and it was really bothering me that you were out there hurting. Plus, I felt like you deserved to know the truth.”

  “What do you mean, the truth?”

  What more could there possibly be at this point?

  Chase has a daughter I didn’t know about and a wife I didn’t know about it. Both of those facts were already weighing heavily on my shoulders. I wasn’t sure how many more truths I could take before I snapped.

  “This might get long, so please bear with me.” She pauses and adjusts in her seat as if she’s uncomfortable, then pulls her shoulders back and drops her hands to her lap. After a few beats, she sighs and brings them back to the table, then leans down on her elbows.

  “When I was twenty, I fell madly in love with a musician. We met one summer, at Snowcap actually, and he came back to Gamble Springs to be with me.” She stops like she can’t even believe the words that are coming out of her mouth. “To be honest, I didn’t know him long enough to truly love him, but I was young and naïve, and I loved the way he made me feel. Our affair—”

  I wince at the word.

  “It was brief. But it was all-encompassing for me. He was all I thought about, all I wanted. Those few weeks felt like nothing I had ever known and nothing I’ve ever known since. But it all came to a screeching halt the day I found out I was pregnant.” She pauses with a searching stare, but it takes me time to piece together what she’s trying to tell me.

  “Willow…?” The name falls from my lips and dangles in the air, clouding my mind with even more questions.

  “Isn’t Chase’s biological daughter,” she finishes. “I haven’t heard from her father since he left. Well, except when Chase hunted him down. By then, Willow’s father already had a family. A wife, and two children. He didn’t want his wife to even know about Willow.”

  I look at the woman across from me, taking in the sharp pain of betrayal in her eyes. I expected to see it there, but I thought I’d be the cause. I thought it would be fresh and raw, not muddied with the tinge of old love’s regret.

  “I didn’t handle the first few months of my pregnancy with Willow very well. My father walked out on my mom when I was little, and she had already passed away before I met Willow’s father.”

  Her phone vibrates between us on the table and she grabs for it, pressing a button to silence it.

  “My mom’s house was paid for, so I had that, but I was still in college, working as a waitress. I knew I couldn’t support a baby, especially one that was a reminder of the man who broke my heart. I feel terrible even thinking it now, but I didn’t want her.”

  Her voice is a bitter whisper and both of our eyes are on her hands again—now clasped together, knuckles white.

  Instinctively, I reach my hand out and lay it on top of hers. I have no right to touch her, or to sit here and ask her to relive a time that was obviously so painful. But as selfish as it is, I want answers; and if she’s willing to give them to me, I’m going to take them.

  “I love Willow with every part of me. I would do anything for her. But back then, I didn’t know the first thing about being a mother. I didn’t have any family, except for Chase and Drake. We grew up together, so they were like family. Except it’s different, you know? I still felt so alone sometimes and the idea of bringing a child into that…”

  A choke halts her, a single tear trailing down face. She can’t even meet my eyes.

  My grip tightens on her hand and I lean close in an attempt to pull her gaze to mine. “Emily, there’s nothing you could say that would cause me to judge you. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I’m carrying your husband’s child. I can’t believe you’re sitting here so calmly, or even giving me the time of day. Most women would be clawing my eyes out right now.”

  She pulls away then, tipping her head back in laughter.

  It’s gentle and sweet, and I find myself lost in the creamy flesh of her long neck as it vibrates. A glutton for punishment, I wonder how many times Chase’s lips have graced the skin there. The thought hurts, but I welcome its sharp sting. What I’m feeling is nothing compared to how Emily must feel.

  “I’m screwing all of this up,” she says, bringing her chin back down. A final tear slides down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away. “Chase and I…we aren’t…”

  She sighs, and a small, frustrated sound squeaks out of her. It sounds foreign coming out of her small body. Her cheeks are flushed, her hands now in front of her, gesturing crazily as she continues. “He only married me out of convenience. We love each other, yes, but it’s more like brother and sister. If anything, I’m the selfish one. I allowed a man to marry me knowing I couldn’t give him the marriage he deserved.”

  “Wait, I don’t understand.” My voice is rough and my chest is tight. I couldn’t have possibly heard her correctly.

  “The life we’ve built together is for Willow. All of it has always been for Willow.”

  2

  Chase

  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of—”

  I punch my thumb against the end-call button and toss my phone as I curse aloud. It hits the couch cushion so hard that it rebounds and lands on the ground.

  “Damn it is right!” With a grin spread wide on her face, Willow bounces over to the couch, picks up my phone, and holds it
out for me—equal parts sass and humor.

  “Willow! Language, please!”

  She rolls her eyes at my groan, but giggles and plops down beside me. “You first, Dad,” she says, resting her head against my shoulder and snuggling into my side.

  She’s done this a million times before, but the older she gets, the more precious it feels.

  I lean down to place a kiss on her head, registering the smell of her mother’s shampoo and doing my best to ignore the sting of sadness that hits me. I can still remember that sweet baby scent she had so many years ago.

  At the time, I would hold her while she slept—enjoying the weight of her on my chest, marveling at how small and perfect she was. I had no idea how quickly it would all fly by. As much as I love the little firecracker sitting beside me, I sometimes miss when she was sweet and innocent. Way before all the talk of bra shopping and shaving.

  Before Willow, I never even considered having children. It’s not that I didn’t want to, the idea had just never crossed my mind. But once she was born, it was hard to imagine a world without her.

  I may not be her biological father, but I’ve always tried to give her the fierce love and dedication she deserves from a male figure. I never wanted her to feel less than because her sperm donor walked out on her. So, when she and Emily moved in with me, she became mine. My girl, my responsibility.

  Over the years, I became so wrapped up in my commitment to her and Emily that any thought of getting into a new relationship someday or having another child was immediately pushed aside. I’d already given myself to my childhood best friend. I’d already built a family. And even in the dark times, when I was forced to acknowledge that I would lose Emily, it never felt right to consider the possibility that there could be someday.