Fool For Her Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Epilogue

  Also by R.C. Martin

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 R.C. Martin. All Rights Reserved.

  Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Untapped Publications, Ltd, 3208 Oakes Mill Place, Castle Rock, CO 80109.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and other elements portrayed herein are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales or events is coincidental.

  Cover Design by Cassy Roop at Pink Ink Designs ©2020

  www.pinkinkdesigns.net

  Prologue

  I stood at the window and watched as she hesitated by the passenger side door of the blue Audi. She twisted her neck, and I thought for sure she’d turn to look up at me. I was certain she knew I was there. She’d searched for me before within the confines of the windowpane. From the outside gazing in, there was always a promise that I would be there to catch her—to choose her.

  All that was gone, now. Even still, I wanted her to long for it, to look, to see my face—and I wanted to see hers. I wanted to see her pain, her regret, her awareness of what it cost her to be the whore.

  She didn’t look.

  Her straight, dark brunette hair covered the side of her face as she cast her gaze down at the street. I watched as she took in a deep breath and then shook her head before she slipped into the car. I couldn’t see the driver—but I didn’t want to.

  I didn’t want to be reminded of his face.

  I didn’t want another snapshot of their life together.

  I certainly didn’t want to see the man who’d won.

  Won, I scoffed in my mind. What has he won? A lying, cheating, whore of a wife.

  He’s won nothing.

  Even as I thought the truth, it didn’t grant me a reprieve from the heavy burden of emotions which boiled within me. When the vehicle drove out of view, I freed a curse and turned my back toward the window. The coffee mug on my desk was in reaching distance. I didn’t even think twice before I picked it up and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the remnants of that morning’s caffeine staining the egg-shell paint.

  I stared down at the broken dish for a long time. I felt trapped. Trapped in the moment. Trapped in the helplessness of my circumstances. Trapped in the aftermath of her decision. Held in the clutches of pain—pain as a result of loss and betrayal. Yet, who had betrayed whom?

  Was it Aubrey who betrayed me? The first time, perhaps. The second time, when I couldn’t resist, when I chose her anyway, when I believed her lies—was it I who betrayed myself?

  I was unaware of time as I stared at the shards of hardened clay. I didn’t know what I was looking for in the fragments. As the seconds and minutes ticked by, as I got lost in my anger and resentment, the pieces of that mug became me. I soon realized, just as my actions shattered what was whole, I was to blame for my own brokenness. I was the fool. I let myself get played.

  I wasn’t her victim. I didn’t want to accept the vulnerability which was tugging me toward a weaker version of myself. I wouldn’t stoop to that level. I refused to give her that power. The truth of the matter was, I let myself fall in love. Like an ass, I gave her my heart—as if it was a commodity I could trust in her care. She proved she couldn’t be trusted, and yet I still hoped otherwise.

  Fuck, I’m an idiot, I thought as I moved away from the window.

  I dropped into the chair at my desk and played it all back.

  My choices.

  My mistakes.

  I was appalled by my own naïveté, yet resolute to overcome it.

  That afternoon, I made up my mind. It seemed as obvious and unquestionable a decision as the choice to breathe. To seek love was a fool’s errand, and I was better than that. I was smarter than that. At least, I wanted to be. More than anything, I wanted to be stronger. I resented the pain left in her absence—the hole I felt after watching her leave again; watching her choose him again.

  Again, and again, it was always him.

  He can have her, I thought as I stood to my feet.

  To hell with love, I thought as I crossed the room.

  I glanced down at the broken mug but didn’t stoop to pick it up. I had somewhere to be. I had someone to fuck. I didn’t know who, but it didn’t matter. When I was finished, the only thing I wanted either of us to feel was pleasure.

  Chapter One

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had sex.

  Even more, I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted it so badly.

  It wasn’t my desire which was unusual. Over the years, I’d indulged my cravings when and where I wanted. That was who I was—a man after pleasure, above all else. After Aubrey, my sexual appetite had little to nothing to do with connection; all that mattered was attraction. I only needed one, and I avoided the other. My life lacked for nothing when I left any sense of vulnerability at the door.

  Then I met Teddy.

  Since the moment I laid eyes on her, it seemed as though I was counting down the days until I could have her. In the beginning, I was confident whatever dalliance I indulged with the exceptional beauty would be short lived. Months later, I couldn’t deny how wrong I had been.

  It was about more than the parts of her body I’d yet to see. I’d tasted and touched her—not nearly as much as I craved, but enough to know Teddy was different. I sensed it in ways I couldn’t explain. I was drawn to it. Desperate for it. Desperate for the woman herself.

  It wasn’t love. I didn’t believe in love. I wouldn’t promise her love—neither would I make a fool of myself. Not even for her. Yet, I knew I’d never longed for anyone the way I longed for Teddy. It was more primal a desire than I’d ever felt. I couldn’t imagine anyone else touching her. There was a fire inside of her—a fire I saw in her hazel-brown eyes, felt in the passion of her kiss, and tasted in the evidence of her arousal. It was a fire I wanted to unleash. I was certain it belonged to me.

  Whoever came after me—whoever came after her—i
t didn’t matter. The relevance of it all was contained in now. What mattered was the truth that tethered us to the present. She haunted me in the most intriguing way. I couldn’t let her go until I’d satisfied us both—until I’d unleashed the wild trapped within her demure nature.

  Tonight, I thought as I looked up at the sun, anxious for it to drop from the sky.

  “Judah?”

  I was pulled from my musings at the sound of Aunt Eddalyn’s voice. When I searched for her, I found her standing a few paces ahead of me. She peered at me curiously. Realizing she was ready to proceed to the next hole, I lifted my clubs and strapped them over my shoulder. I didn’t bother speaking a reply. Neither did I attempt to address the question which shone in her pretty, blue eyes. I’d been off my game all morning, and we both knew it. An explanation, however, was not something I intended to offer.

  “My goodness,” she murmured as I passed her. “I don’t know how I didn’t see this before.”

  I paused, this time looking back at her as I inquired, “I beg your pardon?”

  “There’s a woman.” She coughed out a laugh, a triumphant smile lighting up her face. “My god, you’re in love,” she declared.

  My brow dipped in a frown, and I shook my head. “No.”

  Laughing, she pulled along her clubs and caught up with me. “Yes,” she urged.

  Love is for fools—and I am no fool, I thought.

  Knowing better than to say such a thing, I continued toward the pathway along the green. “One shit game and your only hypothesis is that I’m in love?”

  “It’s not your game, my dear nephew. It’s your company. In all the years we’ve played together, you’ve never been such horrible company.”

  “I’m preoccupied, that’s all,” I stated with another shake of my head.

  “Oh, come now. Don’t insult me. I know you better than just about anyone. Your work is your passion; but even on your worst days, you’ve never let it interfere with our walk along the green. So, go on. Tell me about her.”

  Perturbed by her insistence, I shot back, “Again, what makes you so sure there’s a woman in my life?”

  “Well, am I wrong?”

  I wanted to lie. Even the idea of admitting Teddy had my thoughts preoccupied felt like a victory in Eddalyn’s name, not mine. The way I saw it, to put the woman out of her misery and tell her I was simply a man deprived of my sexual needs would only further support her point. The reason I hadn’t been inside of a woman for what felt like months on end was indeed because of another woman. Yet, regardless of the fact that none of this information was any of her business, to give her no answer felt like as much of a defeat as the truth.

  I was pulled from my thoughts by another laugh. The melodic trill of her amusement beckoned me to look her way. I frowned when she signaled me in the opposite direction.

  “Come on. No more golf today.”

  “You can’t be serious. We haven’t even played nine holes,” I protested, watching as the distance between us grew larger.

  “Yes, well, we’ll never make it to eighteen with your head in the clouds like that.” She paused and smiled back at me. “Stop being so stubborn. We’ll have a late brunch at the clubhouse.”

  Recognizing I was never going to be able to change her mind, I claimed defeat and followed after her. We walked a little in silence before she said, “I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure the day would come when you—my ever-ambitious nephew—would find someone to distract you a little.”

  A scowl drew my eyebrows together as I stared down at her. She’d never said such a thing to me before. Shocked as I was by her assessment of my personal life, I still wasn’t going to let her think she was right.

  “Aunt Eddalyn,” I started to say.

  She didn’t let me continue. As if I hadn’t spoken at all, she went on to tell me, “I, myself, have never really been a woman who liked the idea of settling down with a man. I thought, maybe, if the right one came around—someone who could handle my level of ambition, my drive and success, maybe I’d entertain the notion of commitment. But men are funny creatures. With my name on the wall, I tend to intimidate most of them. And when I don’t, it’s like a pissing match. God, I don’t have time for that sort of nonsense, either.

  “But you—you always struck me as the type of man who could love fiercely, if you so desired.”

  Still perplexed by the direction our conversation had taken, all I could offer her was my attention.

  “I know you,” she continued. “I know your heart. I know how passionate of a man you can be, and I have imagined what that might look like when directed toward someone other than your parents, or Ben, or me. Though, I also figured you were too stubborn to let your work rest long enough to find someone to share your life with.”

  “Share my life with?” I interrupted. I couldn’t help myself. She’d officially gone off the deep end of her fanciful thoughts. “Aunt Eddalyn, I’m not in love. I’m not a man looking to fall in love. That’s Ben. And just because there’s a woman doesn’t mean I have any intention of sharing my life with her.”

  “Mmm, I see,” she hummed knowingly. “So, this woman who has you so distracted, she’s just a fling?” She arched her eyebrow at me, piercing me straight through with her stare.

  This time, I didn’t lie. It wasn’t merely that I didn’t want to; more so, it was that I couldn’t. To do so would have been a betrayal to the woman who I was claiming as mine—and I didn’t want to be that guy.

  Frowning, I looked down at the grass beneath my feet and realized I wasn’t sure what kind of guy I wanted to be. Not anymore. It didn’t seem so clear any longer. The one thing I was sure of was that what Teddy and I had wasn’t a fling. We hadn’t had sex. We’d barely fooled around. By definition, our relationship was not nearly casual enough to be considered a fling.

  “No,” I finally answered.

  “I figured as much,” said Eddalyn, speaking through a crooked smile. “What’s her name?”

  “Theodora.”

  Her name rolled off my tongue with ease, and I imagined her in my mind as I said it. She was more ravishing in person; but even in my thoughts, she was more beautiful than she knew.

  “She introduces herself as Teddy,” I added softly.

  “I’d like to meet this Teddy. I hope it can be arranged.”

  I looked over at Eddalyn and studied her expression. I could see she wasn’t so much asking as she was insisting I find a way to make her request happen. I bit back a sigh, knowing an introduction to Eddalyn would inevitably lead to an introduction to my mother. She didn’t like to feel left out when she didn’t have to be.

  Hoping to delay the domino effect, I replied, “We’ll see. I’ll ask her.”

  “Fair enough. Now, we’ve got a ways left to walk. I’d like to hear more about your Teddy.”

  I tried not to read into the way she so causally labeled Teddy as mine.

  Though—truth of the matter was—given our plans for the evening, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

  Chapter Two

  Theodora laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was both everywhere and nowhere at once. There was an awareness she couldn’t quite grasp, a reality she couldn’t explain, and a promise that lingered in the air. She felt anxious and almost breathless as she reclined in the stillness. Reaching up to bury her fingers in her sleep-tangled, wavy, red locks, Theodora blew out a sigh and tried to center herself.

  It was useless.

  She giggled groggily and then groaned under her breath as she sat upright. It seemed like a ridiculous notion to imagine she’d be able to find any sense of calm that day. Not when every cell in her body felt like it was buzzing in anticipation. The night ahead of her would change everything, and she thought it silly to deny it. However, staying in bed until evening wasn’t an option, either.

  Theodora forced herself out from between her sheets and allowed her feet to take her where they always did first thing in the morning. Upon reaching her tiny kitchen,
she stopped before she crossed into the space. Mr. Coffee was all but forgotten at the sight of the previous day’s floral delivery. The glass vase was filled with alstroemerias, eucalyptus and two purple succulents. It was a gorgeous, extravagant arrangement, and it was delivered the way all of her flowers had been—with a note from the man she loved.

  Love.

  She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. In the beginning, she was quite certain to do so would have been a horrible idea. Yet, as she crossed the small room simply to read his neat, capitalized letters etched across the small, rectangular card, she surrendered to her heart—her heart which no longer belonged to her.

  SEVEN DAYS

  THREE WEEKS

  ONE NIGHT

  THINKING OF NO ONE ELSE,

  JUDE

  Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Theodora recalled the confused expression on Geoffrey’s face after he read the note. She didn’t decipher the message for her best friend. Instead, she tried to hide her blush as the meaning behind the countdown blossomed in her mind.

  She’d asked Judah to go seven days without sex—seven days, and then she would go out with him. It almost didn’t happen at all, but then it did. Weeks and then months went by; every date, every kiss, every touch tugging at her heart until she was his. Yet, in a devastating turn of events, when she finally felt ready to offer him her body—the unthinkable happened.

  For three weeks, she wasn’t allowed to have sex at all. In many ways, the reason why was still heartbreaking. In her most vulnerable moments, the reality of the disease she carried with her for years made her feel less than; but when she communed with God, or when Judah held her in his arms, she was persuaded to believe otherwise. Now, after a short delay and a bottle of prescription pills, Theodora was informed by her doctor that she could have sex so long as a condom was used.

  The one night Judah referred to was the single night remaining before their wait would be over. Even thinking about where she would be in twelve hours’ time was enough to eradicate her need for coffee entirely. Feeling antsy and restless with a full day ahead of her, Theodora knew she had to do something to fill her morning.