Chance on Love (22 page)

“No, kid. I’m finally taking the time to live while I can.” Kenny pulled her arm free and kissed the back of her hand. “As your dad, I advise you to do the same.”

Chapter 26

Dinner at the Thomas home passed in a blur. She was grateful their kids had come over; there was no way she could have handled being the lone guest. All she’d been able to think about was the fact that Kenny was sick, and Chance wasn’t the asshole she’d always thought he was.

The thoughts mingled and overlapped until she wasn’t even able to fake following the conversation going on around the dinner table.

The only things she did manage to notice were the loving looks Kenny and Gwen had shared, and the hand squeezes they gave one another. How would Gwen cope if something were to happen to him? That man was everything to her.

As Stephanie drove home, her sadness finally gave way to a familiar emotion—anger.

Why the
fuck
did things like this have to happen to people like Kenny and Gwen? There were plenty of slime buckets out there just begging for a taste of something horrible. The Claytons, the Carlene-Carlys, the Donnas.

By the time she stomped into her house, she was shaking. After yanking off her coat, she slammed the door. A slight pounding had begun behind her eyes, and it was getting stronger. She pressed her trembling hands together as she paced the floor.

She’d known she thought of Kenny as a father figure, but she’d only just realized tonight how much he meant to her. And now she would lose him too. 

The knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her pacing, which only pissed her off more. She stormed over and snatched it open. “What?” she snapped.

Chance stood there, scowling at her.

She slammed the door, but he stopped it from shutting in his face by putting his hand to it just in time. He pushed it back open.

“I’m not in the mood for any of your shit, Valentine.” He held up her laptop case.
Oh.
She snatched it from his hand.

“Thanks, but you could have just brought it to the station in the morning.” She slammed the door once more.

Again, he stopped it mid-slam before stepping into the house.

Dropping the laptop case on the couch, she turned back to face him.

He walked to stand directly in front of her. “That was only part of why I’m here.” Dangerous sparks flashed from those blue-gray eyes. “The real reason is because I wanted to tell
you
to your face that you can kiss my ass.”

She frowned. “What are you even talking about?”

He pointed at her. “You have got to be the most exasperating person on the fucking planet. I go out of my way to help you—God only knows why—and then you bite my head off.” He held his hands up. “Okay, okay...I should be used to that by now, right? But you went a little overboard when I dropped you off earlier.”

Sighing, she walked away from him. She sat down on the loveseat as he continued his rant.

He crossed his arms. “You call me every name in the book, cuss me out like I’ve never been cussed out before—”

“I
always
do that,” she said wearily. She was exhausted. For once in her life, she didn’t feel up to a fight. If he wanted to unleash his pent-up fury on her, he could knock himself out. She supposed she deserved it anyway. It turned out that, though he was undeniably a bastard, he wasn’t quite the bastard she’d thought him to be at first.

He marched up to her. “This was ten times worse. I’m getting sick of your tantrums. If I had a brain in my head, I’d have let you quit when you offered.”

Stephanie looked up at him, but said nothing.

“All I wanted was to help you. If you needed to meet with your father alone, you could’ve said that. But
no
, you had to be secretive. Of course that made me worry. Excuse the hell out of me for not wanting you to go into some random person’s house alone!”

A tiny part of her heart melted at the fact that he worried about her. Another part of her resented it. She wasn’t some helpless little damsel in distress; she could handle herself. She wasn’t used to anyone worrying about her except Kenny. It was a little insulting—and a lot nice.

Chance began to pace. “Why couldn’t you just tell me who he was? Did you think I’d think less of you? I don’t care if your dad’s house could use some repairs. I was worried about
you
, you nut. And what do I get for that? Treated like crap, yet again. Well, you know what? I’m sick of it. I drove home thinking, ‘Nah, I’m gonna let this go’, but then I thought, ‘Why? Why should I?’”

He squatted down in front of her. “This is it,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “I’m done with your disrespect.”

Her chin started to quiver as she stared back at him. This was too much. Having her ideas validated by corporate, meeting with her useless biological drunk of a father, finding out Chance wasn’t the ruthless pig she’d thought, finding out she was going to lose her
real
, though non-biological dad, and...realizing Chance really did care for her.

That was more than enough to deal with in one day. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried, but she was about to fall apart now. And damn it to hell, right in front of Valentine.

He took a deep breath. “So...I think it’s best you don’t work—”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Love...” Frowning, Chance leaned in. “Are you
crying
?”

She held up her hand as she breathed deeply. Then, she shook her head quickly, wanting to deny her emotions. However, the hurried movement only caused the tears to spill down her face.

“The hell?” He leaned in closer. “You’re
crying?
”

Okay, his disbelief was kind of pissing her off at that point. “I do have tear ducts, you know.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he got up to sit next to her, “but I didn’t think they worked.”

Stephanie gave him a weak punch in the arm before wiping at her eyes.

“What happened?”

The concern in his voice touched her, and her chin trembled again.

“No, no,” he said gently, “don’t do that.” He grabbed her face gently and lifted it, though her gaze remained directed at the floor. “Look at me.”

Finally, she did.

“Tell me.” He dropped his hand from her face. When she didn’t speak, he continued. “Look, I don’t care that your father has problems—well,” he wrinkled his brow, “that didn’t come out right. I
care
that he has problems. It’s just...I’m not going to judge you for them. You can talk to me, I swear.”

She gave him a fleeting, shaky smile as more tears fell. “Thanks,” she said, her voice thick. “But Frank’s the least of my worries right now.”

Chance frowned. “What else could possibly have you this upset? I just assumed it had to do with your dad—”

“It does,” she said softly.

“But you just said it didn’t.”

Stephanie brushed more tears away. “Frank’s not my dad.” Sighing, she looked at Chance. “Kenny’s my dad.”

He regarded her for a moment. “Wow. You are
really
white for a mixed woman.”

She laughed lightly. “Shut up,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his. “You and Kenny would get along.” Her smile fell as she thought about it.

Would have gotten along.
She cleared her throat. “I only meant that Kenny’s the only man I’ve ever had in my life who’s treated me like a daughter. Frank is...just some guy who knocked my mother up.”

He nodded. Then, he frowned. “This is why you’re crying?”

“No. It’s just—Kenny’s not doing well and...” Then, her chin started trembling again, and she knew she had to get it out before she totally lost her composure. The words tumbled out; she only hoped they made a lick of sense.

“I needed to see him and I called him so I could come over. After seeing Frank, I just felt... And I see him and there’s Gwen and they’re so perfect together. And then he was so happy for me when I told him I got to meet with corporate and then he told me...he told me...” Her shoulders trembled as she started to cry.

Wrapping his arm around her, Chance pulled her back on the loveseat with him. He stroked her hair as she pressed her face to his chest, sobs shaking her body. “What’s wrong, Love? Tell me.”

Stephanie sniffled and rested her head on his shoulder. “He’s dying,” she said quietly.

His body tensed. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Chance.”

“For what?”

“I thought you’d fired him. I thought you were a horrible, heartless bastard.”

He pulled her tighter to him. “It’s okay, Love. That’s what everyone was supposed to think.” He turned his head and his lips brushed her forehead. “Now, what’s going on with Kenny?”

Her voice cracked as she shared all that Kenny had shared with her. “Don’t tell him I told you this, okay? He’s far too proud. He wouldn’t want people worrying about him or pitying him.”

“When would I tell him? It’s not as if we’re golfing buddies. Besides,” Chance sighed, “I’ll be gone soon.”

She frowned.
That’s right.
Chance would be gone and, eventually, Kenny. In different ways, but both forever beyond her reach from then on. She couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. She was too raw, too vulnerable. Sniffling again, she remembered something. “What is it you were about to say earlier?”

“Huh?”

She looked up at him, with her head still on his shoulder. “Something about it being best that I don’t work?”

“Oh, that.” Glancing down at her before looking up again, he shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me, asshole.”

Smiling, he let his head fall back on the loveseat. “I just thought maybe you could use some time away from the station. You know, after seeing your da—Frank, maybe you shouldn’t work tomorrow. And now with this latest turn of events with Kenny, I actually think that might be best.”

“No,” she said, yawning. “Work is the only thing I have. I’d go crazy if I stayed in tomorrow.”

Chance chuckled softly. “You have
got
to get a life outside of work, Love.”

“I know.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “Kenny basically told me the same thing.”

“So are you going to make that change?” Chance asked.

Stephanie nodded. It was official. She no longer hated the schmuck. He wasn’t even a schmuck anymore. In fact, she liked him. Was Kenny right? Did she more than like Valentine? Her pulse raced at the thought of risking her heart when she never had before. “Everything’s changed already,” she said softly.

Chapter 27

The next morning at the station, Stephanie felt almost renewed. She’d decided there was no way in hell she was standing around twiddling her thumbs while she waited for Kenny to die. She would come up with a plan, simple as that.

The station could throw a fundraiser or something of the sort. She’d have to run her ideas by the interim GM, of course, but the thought of having to talk to him at all didn’t disgust her anymore so that was a huge plus.

Thoughts of Chance filled her mind as she headed to her office. He had stayed with her, holding her until her eyes had grown heavy enough to close when the day’s emotional upheavals finally took their toll. When she’d woken up, she’d been in bed, snug beneath the covers and in nothing but her underwear.

The thought of him undressing her sent a tingle up her spine. Even though she knew he would have been nothing but a gentlemen—not to mention, he’d seen her in far less than underwear a time or twenty—the thought made her slightly embarrassed, and a whole lot hot.

She actually licked her lips when she had a sudden image of his cock, standing at attention and glistening with moisture from her mouth and pussy. The damn man had turned her into a sex addict. Maybe she’d sneak into his office later and let him fuck her senseless.

She had to make the most of his talents before he left. The thought of that threw a damper on her lust. It didn’t smother the flames completely—hell, what could?—but it definitely took her recently overactive libido down to about a five. For now.

Amber rushed up as Stephanie unlocked her office door. “What happened this weekend? I call you Saturday evening and you’re in freakin’ Beverly Hills?” she whispered furiously. Her focus drifted down to Stephanie’s necklace. She leaned in, her eyes widening. “Holy shit,” she said slowly.

Stephanie gasped. “Snickerdoodle, watch your language.” She smiled when Amber threw her an ‘are you serious’ look. She walked into the office with her friend fast on her heels.

“Spill it,” she said, sitting down in front of Stephanie’s desk. “Did Clayton give you that?”

Scoffing, Stephanie took off her coat and hung it on the rack beside the door.

“No?” Amber tilted her head. “Who else could afford—”

Stephanie just smiled as she went to stand behind her desk.

“Mr. Valentine?” Amber cried as quietly as she could.

Stephanie shrugged and sat down. “It was a gift.”

“I’ll say.” Amber stared at the necklace. “I hope you know you’re packing some serious cash around your neck, girl. You’d better have security walk you out to your car later.”

Stephanie smiled. “Chance’s grandfather guesstimated it was about sixty grand, but he had to be joking.”

“
Chance’s
grandfather? Since when is he ‘Chance’ instead of Valentine, schmuck, bastard, asshole—”

“He,” Stephanie said, raising her voice to drown out Amber’s, “isn’t as bad as I thought. And as for this,” she touched the diamonds around her neck, “I’m sure he wouldn’t have dropped that much cash on
me
.” She shrugged. “It was probably a few thousand, if that.”

Amber threw her head back and laughed. And laughed. She finally looked at Stephanie as she dabbed the corners of her eyes with the tip of her pinky finger. “Steph, there’s no way in hell that thing was only a few thousand dollars.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it’s not real. Some amazing cubic zirconia work, yes.”

“Get it appraised. I guarantee that sucker is worth more than forty grand. Mr. Valentine’s no slouch.”

Stephanie considered that. If the necklace were indeed real, that money could go a long way toward helping Kenny. She’d hate to part with it—it was absolutely gorgeous—but helping Kenny was more important. None of this mattered anyway. There was no way Chance had given her something so valuable.
Had he?