Meant To Be Family (Meant To Be Series Book 3) Read online

  Meant

  to be

  Family

  Meant to Be Series

  Book Three

  By AMELIA FOSTER

  Meant to be Family

  Copyright © 2019 by Amelia Foster.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2019

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-789-2

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the fine folks at YouTube who have created a way for me to waste countless hours when writer’s block zapped my creativity.

  Table Of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Connor

  Present Day

  “I know you’ve told me before, but I need you to start from the beginning. You might remember something different this time.”

  Remember something different? What the hell did this guy want from him? Connor speared his fingers through his hair and ran them down the back of his head, linking them together behind his neck.

  He peered at the older man from between squinted lids and sighed. The nearly constant barrage of nightmares might end if he could find them. If he knew they were okay. If he could console himself with the fact that maybe one positive thing came from one of the worst nights of his life.

  Connor allowed himself to travel back to the dark road. The scent of hot rubber, gasoline, and smoke mingled in his nostrils just from conjuring the memories. His ears filled with the high-pitched, frantic screams he was afraid he’d never be able to forget.

  Once more he replayed the entire night from start to finish. What he could remember, at least. Chunks of it were lost to the darkness that had claimed him immediately following the impact and then again after he’d pulled them free, once the adrenaline had subsided.

  Some of it had been filled in by the paramedics that had arrived just as he crumpled to the ground. Still more filtered in through the images that replayed through his mind as he tried to sleep, penetrating his subconscious with the screams and shattering of glass.

  Connor shook his head and tried to hide the helpless feeling from showing on his face as he regarded the private investigator. “There is nothing different. Trust me, I think about this way too often. If there was a chance of remembering more, it would have happened by now. Do you think you can find them?”

  The older man regarded him solemnly. “Most of the time these things are a matter of public record, so I honestly can’t see this being a huge issue. I’m kind of surprised that you couldn’t find this out on your own.”

  Answering that would open a can of worms Connor preferred not to deal with. His pushy older brother Tanner had insisted on therapy, and as much as he hated to admit it, the asshole had been right. The nightmares persisted, but the flashbacks during the day largely subsided. Despite the progress, reading the articles in the paper and viewing the pictures were things he wasn’t ready to face yet. Paying someone else to sort through the wreckage and provide the answers he needed was a much more palatable prospect.

  Instead, he offered a shrug. “I have a backlog of work from my time in the hospital, and doing that takes my mind off the fact I’m still in this damned wheelchair. I don’t have time to comb through a million websites or articles to find the answers.”

  Partially true though it was, he still broke eye contact with the investigator. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the other man slowly nod with utter disbelief written across his face. The entire reason Connor had hired Allen Jamison as his PI was because he had military experience, decades in the field, and was well known for being sharp and intuitive. Attempting a half-truth with a man like that was probably not the wisest move.

  Still, Allen left with only an assurance that he would be in touch as soon as he learned something. No mention of Connor’s minor deception.

  With a sigh of relief, he pushed himself down the hall in the evil contraption he hated being confined to and out the back door onto the deck. The morning fall air chilled his damp skin and made him shiver.

  Connor ran his palms down each of his flannel-clad legs, the still fresh scars biting back at the pressure. His newest physical therapist was scheduled to arrive at eleven, and he glanced down at the watch on his left wrist. Two hours from now. Certainly he could pull himself out of this by then. He’d been warned this was his last chance. He’d managed to alienate every other therapist with his surly, impossible attitude. If he didn’t try this time, he’d be forced into inpatient rehab, a consequence he wanted to avoid at all costs.

  ***

  Kelsey

  Present Day

  Pulling up in front of the brick ranch she once called home was harder than she’d prepared herself for. But knowing what lay on the other side of the door nearly killed Kelsey Donovan from the moment Connor’s file first crossed her desk.

  Owning a rehabilitation and physical therapy practice in a “little big town” like Asheville meant that she knew many of her clients personally in addition to professionally. Especially when her fiancé happened to be a member of one of the most respected families in the area and well known to just about everyone.

  Ex-fiancé, she corrected herself.

  The sharp slice of pain that hadn’t dulled in the slightest over the past six months since she left pierced her heart once more. Connor Carlisle was the man she’d dream about when she was an eighty-year-old spinster adopting her fourth cat.

  She’d never stop loving him. That was an impossibility.

  The first night she’d snuck into the hospital to see him after his surgery had nearly destroyed her. More than the stitches across his forehead and the bandages bulging beneath the sheets, the frosted blond spikes that replaced the once medium brown hair that used to fall into his eyes and the ink peeking out from beneath his hospital gown attested to the fact he had changed. Moved on.

  That thing she wanted him to do when she packed her bags and left her diamond ring glittering on the kitchen count
er.

  She sucked in a deep breath and stepped out of the SUV, rounding the hood to pull out her duffel bag packed with supplies and equipment. The icy January air stole her breath. Connor’s insurance covered exactly one at home physical therapy company, Donovan Rehabilitation. The very same one he had helped her design the layout for when she first opened her doors more than two years ago.

  Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. He’d been her rock and the best cheerleader she could have ever imagined. And he deserved the best. Everything he dreamed of. Which meant she had to leave, even though it shattered her own heart.

  The fingers holding her keys twitched as she stood in front of the etched glass of the oak door, the one that would open it long removed from the ring. Instead, she reached over to press the doorbell. The light tinkling she heard echoing inside offered a fresh prick of pain remembering when they installed it and Connor’s teasing that it sounded like a fairy taking flight.

  Wheels rolling across the hardwood entry nearly unraveled the small measure of composure she managed to wrap around herself. Connor in a wheelchair was a sight she wasn’t sure she could handle. Reviewing his file had nearly destroyed her, knowing everything he’d gone through. The pain he was in.

  All of which culminated into him dismissing three other therapists and leaving her other two employees firmly refusing to even attempt to care for him based on the attitude described by the others.

  He was miserable. Grumpy. Angry. And taking it out on whoever he could find until the only one left to oversee his therapy regimen was her.

  The last person on earth she was sure he’d want to see.

  Her suspicion was confirmed when he swung the door open and barked out a laugh. He closed his eyes for what seemed like an eternity and opened them again, narrowing them into slits. “This is a joke, right?”

  Just looking at him shredded her. His cheeks were pale. Dark circles rimmed his lower lids. The sapphire eyes that damn near hypnotized her from their first meeting were void of all their sparkle.

  Kelsey took a deep breath. “Afraid not. Your insurance only works with one facility for at home care, and you managed to run off every employee I have.” She shrugged and held out a hand helplessly. “Now you have two options: me or inpatient rehab.”

  Throughout their six-year relationship, Kelsey had come to expect a calm and composed Connor. He was tenderhearted. Generous. Compassionate. And the exact opposite of the snarling man who spun his wheelchair around and rolled off uttering a string of curses far more colorful than she’d ever heard leave Connor’s mouth before.

  She stared after him for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door.

  This was on her. A fact she owned and one she could never reveal.

  Chapter Two

  Connor

  Six Years Earlier

  “OhmygoshIamsosorry.”

  The squealed words all ran together to form a single semi-incoherent one. And hit his ears about half a second after the warm liquid landed in his lap. Thank everything good the cafeteria managed to only heat their food to tepid levels. It didn’t help the fact, however, that the red liquid billed as tomato soup was now being soaked up by his khaki shorts. On reflex, he pushed the sketchpad away and breathed a sigh of relief that his drawing had been spared.

  A tray clattered onto the table beside him, and small hands grabbed several napkins from the dispenser nearby and shoved them in front of him. “I am so, so, so sorry. My foot slid in these stupid sandals, which are completely inappropriate and I really shouldn’t be wearing anyway because they hurt my feet and I have to walk across campus three times a day for all my classes. Which is absolutely ridiculous and I have discussed this with my advisor on more than one occasion, but it isn’t like it matters anyway and—” The girl slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled from behind her fingers.

  Connor pressed the thin paper napkins against his shirt and pants and swallowed back a chuckle. “It’s not a big deal.” He looked up, and his eyes collided with wide, slate-colored ones that stood out against her dark brown hair and creamy ivory skin. Even the thought of laughing was stolen from him, and he swallowed, licking his suddenly parched lips. He’d never seen anyone as beautiful as the mortified girl who plopped down on the bench seating beside him.

  Her hands fell away from her face. “I tend to talk. A lot. And ramble when I’m nervous. Or when I’ve done something really stupid like pour the entire contents of my dinner on a stranger’s lap.” She groaned and slapped her palm to her forehead. “Particularly a stranger wearing khakis and a light blue shirt. Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

  He looked down at the stained shorts and spattered shirt and really didn’t care about any of it. “Would you believe me if I told you that these were old? Hand me downs from my brother?”

  The girl’s full lips twisted to the side, and her eyes rolled heavenward. “Not for a moment.”

  This time the chuckle escaped before he had a moment to stop it. “Good answer.” He wiped some of the residue that had clung to his hands while he was attempting to clean what he could off his clothes and stuck it out. “Connor.”

  She offered a small smile and slid her palm against his, giving a gentle shake. “Kelsey.”

  He tightened his fingers around her slightly. “Well, Kelsey, I think a little payback is due.”

  Her mouth fell open for a moment before her head bobbed enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, just tell me what size you wear and where your dorm is, and I promise I will replace your clothes. I really am sorry. Did I say that already?”

  Connor pressed his lips together to contain the grin forcing its way to the surface. “I meant you.” He gestured to the nearly empty bowl on her dinner tray. The remnants of her soup that hadn’t been deposited in his lap filled the bottom of the plastic surface. “Looks like you are out of dinner.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It wasn’t much to look forward to anyway. I have some granola bars back in my room that would probably taste a whole lot better.”

  He shook his head. “How about I take you out instead?”

  Kelsey’s eyes fluttered a few times, confusion tinging the edges. “I spilled my food all over you and you want to buy me a meal?” She pointed to the three quarters of what was supposed to be a turkey sandwich on the plate in front of him. “Besides, you’ve already eaten. Or are eating. Or were. Before I ruined your dinner as well as your clothes. Please let me buy you new ones or at least pay to get these cleaned.”

  He squinted at her and rubbed his earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. “You really do talk a lot, don’t you?”

  “It’s a bad habit.”

  “You say bad, I say cute.” When a light pink tinted her cheeks and her head dropped, he lifted her chin with one of his knuckles. “Please let me take you out to dinner tonight.” His gaze fell to his ruined clothes. “After I change.”

  Her lower lip caught between her teeth for a moment before she nodded.

  Connor’s hand dropped and curled around the one laying against her thigh, bare beneath her denim shorts. “Where is your dorm? I’ll pick you up.” Something flashed across her face, and every lecture on campus safety he’d listened to freshman, sophomore, and now junior year came rushing to the forefront of his mind. “I promise I’m not a psychotic stalker that will show up and follow you around.” He winced. “Which is probably exactly what a psychotic stalker would say, but I have two older brothers, a father, and, most terrifying of all, a mother who would kick my ass if I was anything less than a gentleman.”

  The answering giggle created a bubbling against his ribcage, nerves and excitement all mixing together.

  “I’m in Mills Hall.”

  His shoulders drooped slightly with relief that she didn’t think he was a total creep. “That’s kind of perfect since I’m in Ponder.” He tightened his grip for a brief moment before releasing her hand. “I’ll meet you in front of your place in fifteen minutes?”

&
nbsp; She lifted one shoulder and grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she stood and scurried from the building. An uncontrollable, and probably ridiculously goofy, smile stayed fixed in place while he threw away the remnants of both his tray and the one she left behind, and he jogged out of the building. “So do I.”

  ***

  Kelsey

  Six Years Earlier

  Kelsey growled and stripped off the navy shirt with small daisies embroidered on it and grabbed the pale pink one she’d just discarded and glanced at the clock before pulling the top over her head. She only had seven minutes, and everything she tried on was stupid or awkward.

  She adjusted the thin straps and the cold shoulder sleeves and turned in front of her mirror. Five minutes. It would have to do. She slid on a much safer pair of sparkly sandals to dress up the denim shorts she’d paired the top with and grabbed a pair of silver hoop earrings that she put on as she jogged down the stairway.

  Her teeth found her lower lip as soon as she saw him standing on the walkway through the glass front door of the hall. He’d changed into a pair of faded, straight leg jeans and matched it with a blue and white striped button-down shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Kelsey tightened her grip on the lightweight jacket she carried. The guy was seriously hot. How had she never run into him on campus before?

  She eyed him up and down. “Wearing white around me and food? You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I like to live dangerously.” He pointed at the small SUV parked along the curb. “That’s me. Ready to go?”

  Erratically beating butterfly wings assaulted her stomach as she fell in step beside him. His brown hair fell against his forehead, and sapphire eyes sparkled with mischief. Danger wasn’t even the half of it. “Apparently I do, too.” She lifted herself into the passenger’s seat after he opened the door. “Getting in cars with recently soup-covered strangers.”