All I Need Read online

  All I Need

  Copyright © 2018 Jennifer Van Wyk

  Cover Designer: Jersey Girl Designs

  Cover Photography: Lindee Robinson Photography

  Cover Models: Brian Boynton & Daria Rottenberk

  Editing by: Andrea Johnston

  Proofreading by: Kara Hildebrand

  Formatting by: Champagne Book Design

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and event are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Sneak peek of what’s to come…

  About the Author

  Other Books

  To those who don’t realize what they’re going to miss out on until it’s too late and the ones who do.

  Never settle for anything less than amazing.

  You’re worth it.

  “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE shitting me!” I shout wondering how this could be happening. Again.

  “Oh fuck,” Gary grunts, eyes wide when he finally notices me standing in the same room. He shoves himself back into his tuxedo pants and scrambles off my maid of honor, Crystal.

  Her bridesmaid dress, the one we picked out together, is bunched up around her waist. She squeals and quickly covers up her lower half as Gary stands up.

  I look down at my own wedding attire, the gown I fought against buying because I was too nervous that it was all too good to be true, suddenly feels like a weighted blanket dragging my body down.

  Slowly, I drop to my knees, the fabric of my dress billowing around me as the realization of what I just walked into hits me. My stomach threatens to dispel the light lunch I ate earlier in the day and my nose stings, the telltale sign I’m about to start crying. Which pisses me off almost as much as the fact that I just walked in on my fiancé, the man I was moments away from marrying, screwing my maid of honor. Crystal and I have known each other for almost ten years. We shared a home, clothes—hell, even a car for a while when we couldn’t afford to own one on our own. Apparently, she thought the sharing part of our relationship extended to men as well.

  Clearly, I’m not a good judge of character since this is the second time this has happened to me.

  Though, the first time I assumed it was because I was young and naïve. I can’t say the same for now.

  Tears threaten to spill over when I spot Crystal’s shoes in different corners of the room like they couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off. The garment bag that held my dress is still hanging from the back of the door that Crystal hung it from when she carried it in here just a few short hours ago.

  The wrapping paper from the small gift box I unwrapped when we first arrived. Gary had it waiting for me when we got here. A gold necklace, a heart pendant with a small diamond in the center. I felt so ungrateful as I opened it and wondered why that was the gift he chose for me. The necklace looked as if he found it in a pawn shop and if they’d had a decades’ section, it would have been smack dab in the 80’s.

  It didn’t match my other jewelry for today so I had placed it back in the box without another thought. I scoff, realizing it should have been a major clue as to how little he gave a shit about me. Gary and Crystal have been silent while I’ve been going through my little break down. Stealing my nerves, I grab hold of the chair I collapsed next to and stand up on shaky legs and run my hands over the skirt of my dress and walk over to the door, opening it up and poking my head out to look down the hallway. Spotting one of my bridesmaids, I holler, “Allison! I need you to get me out of this.”

  A look of shock crosses her face until I open the door to the room wider. She looks beyond me, sees my fiancé and maid-of-honor looking like they just got done with a fuck-fest.

  “Ellie…”

  “Now, Allison,” I shout at her, feeling seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack as I rip my veil off my head and throw it to the floor.

  She rushes to my back and with quick fingers, undoes the buttons that held up my dress. With each release of the small pearl from the threaded loop I feel a sense of relief I wasn’t expecting.

  When the buttons are finally undone, I allow the dress to unceremoniously drop to the floor. As the dress pools at my feet, the only sound I hear other than my own breathing is Gary’s sharp intake of breath. When I slipped on the white lace bra and panties set this morning, I knew he’d love it. It isn’t lost on me how sexy I look like this. At thirty-four, I work hard to maintain the natural curves my body holds. I’m not full of myself but I am aware of my body, of the curves I’ve been blessed with and the work I put into staying relatively fit.

  My ashy blonde hair is styled in beach wave curls, flowing over my shoulders, kissing the top of my full breasts while the sides are pulled back with rhinestone-studded clips. The lavender scrub I applied earlier has left my skin soft but it’s the coconut oil I applied this morning that has left my skin glowing. The makeup applied by the glamour squad is a little heavier than normal but still tasteful, the goal to highlight my bright blue eyes. Bending down, I pick up my dress and walk over to Crystal and drop it at her feet. “Now I know why you wanted me to pick this dress so bad. You must have wanted it for yourself, just like you wanted Gary for yourself.”

  Still in only my bra, panties, and sparkly peep toe heels, I face the fuckers who knew damn good and well what they were doing and how it would affect me.

  “Crystal, what did you do?” Allison asks in a whisper.

  “I didn’t…”

  I don’t let her finish whatever bullshit she’s about to start spewing and whip around to face Gary. “I hope your dick gets gangrene,” I point to Gary and he covers his crotch area as if I actually have those kinds of powers. I wish. Then I turn my finger to Crystal. “And you. May you buy a bra that you don’t wash before wearing and it makes your tits look like a lotus flower pod,” I tell her, referring to a post that went viral several years ago. It freaked her the fuck out because of her trypophobia.

  Her gasp makes me smile. It’s possible I’m being a bitch but I think the situation calls for it.

  Allison giggles behind me. I look at her and she quickly covers her mouth, her eyes wide. She moves her hand and raises it in front of her. “Sorry, sorry. Not the right time, I know. It’s just… the lotus flower pod! That was the freakiest thing I’d ever seen. So gross.” Her giggles turn to full on lau
ghter. I press my lips together because I thought it was pretty funny, too, but figure if I start laughing now then I’ll lose all my credibility. Allison takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Okay. I’m good. But know that was a good one.”

  Gary reaches for my hand but I yank it back, holding it close to my body so he can’t get near me. “Ellie… fuck. I’m so sorry.”

  “Because you got caught?” I ask, hands to my hips. “Just tell me one thing. How long?”

  His face pales and Crystal whimpers.

  “I don’t want to know, do I?”

  Gary glances at Crystal and she bites her lip, shaking her head slowly, gaze pinned to the floor. She sniffs and he looks back at me. “I deserve to know,” I tell them. “You knew my fears. Both of you were there when Michael left me at the alter five years ago, which makes you two even bigger assholes in this situation.”

  “New Year’s Eve,” he whispers and I close my eyes against the hurt.

  Six months ago.

  One week after he proposed.

  “Fuck you both,” I snap. Relief we decided on an outdoor ceremony at Gary’s father’s country club instead of in a church floods through me. I’m also grateful the guests are sitting under the tent set up far away from the separate clubhouse the bridal party used to get ready and nobody else is witnessing this scene.

  As much as I love my shoes, they’re just another reminder of the situation I’m currently in so I kick them off, reach down and chuck them at Gary. One after the other, they bounce off his chest and fall to his feet.

  “I’m… sorry,” Crystal hiccups through tears.

  “I bet so. Sucks being seen as the bitch you really are rather than the friend you’ve been pretending to be this entire time.”

  She flinches at my harsh words.

  I walk over to the bag that holds my regular clothes which I had packed up before the photographer called for me to take my pictures. Pictures I just finished smiling for and had walked back to the room to reapply lipstick as the photographer said it was time for the groom’s pictures so I could take a break. Somehow I doubt the image before me is what the photographer was hoping for. I quickly slide on my jean shorts and do up three buttons of my white shirt then slip on my champagne wedge flip flops that I had planned to wear during the reception.

  “He’s all yours,” I tell Crystal who’s still quietly crying.

  “Ellie, wait,” Gary pleads. The sad part is I don’t know if he’s pleading because he’s sincerely sorry or that he’s upset he was caught. Unfortunately, more likely the reason is because he knows his parents will cut him off since he was only allowed full use of his trust fund if he was married before his thirty-fifth birthday, which is just around the corner.

  “What for? So you can tell me I got the wrong idea? Or again that you’re sorry? Oh, maybe you’re going to tell me that it wasn’t planned and that it just happened, that you’ll never do it again. Save it, asshole.”

  “We really…”

  “What, Crystal? You really didn’t mean for it to happen? And when it did, what then? You just thought it was no big deal? That you’d keep it going and watch me marry the man you’ve been screwing for the past six months and that would work forever? I don’t know if that makes you pathetic or just a slut. But you know what? I’m done with both of you. I can’t believe I let myself trust either of you.” Suddenly a thought occurs to me and I have to swallow down bile. But damn if I’m not so freaking grateful that we haven’t had sex in over two months.

  “This is why you wanted me to get tested. You said it was because of something with the inheritance. That we both had to have a full medical checkup before you could accept it.”

  He has the decency to look guilty. But Crystal, she looks pissed.

  “What the fuck, Gary? You made her get tested? Because… why? You don’t trust me?”

  “No it’s not that at all. It’s not you. It’s…” he stops whatever he was about to say but the words are hanging in the air already. I don’t know if Crystal’s smart enough to figure it out on her own or not, but I don’t really care.

  Without him admitting it, I know, without a doubt, it’s because he’s the one who hasn’t been faithful to her. But what would she expect? If he can’t be faithful to the woman he was about to pledge his life to, why would he be faithful to the one who thought it was okay for him to be a cheat?

  I place my bag on my shoulder, check to make sure my wallet and phone are still inside then I walk over to Gary and hold out my palm. “Keys?” I raise an eyebrow for him to challenge me, which, of course, he doesn’t. Because he’s a cheat who has no balls. He digs into his pocket before placing them in my palm. I turn to walk away then think better of it.

  Placing my left hand on his chest, my large engagement ring that his daddy no doubt helped pay for sparkles brilliantly. I look at it briefly then back to him. His eyes soften and I know he thinks I’m about to cave.

  Then I ball a fist, cock my arm back and sock him right in the gut.

  “Have a nice life, Gary.”

  “I’M HUNGRY.”

  I glance across the seat of my pickup to my nephew Grayson and smirk. “When aren’t you hungry?”

  Two dimples appear for a brief second before his attention returns to his phone.

  At fifteen he’s more man than boy and corny as it sounds, it makes my heart squeeze realizing how fast time has gone.

  “When I’m sleeping,” he eventually murmurs after about ten minutes, still not looking up from whatever’s on his screen.

  “What?” I ask, confused as to what he’s talking about.

  “That’s when I’m not hungry.”

  “I disagree. This morning I woke up to see a new box of granola bars opened at some point in the night. Three bars were gone from the box.”

  He chuckles. “Oh yeah. I can’t help it, though. I woke up at midnight and had to pee.”

  I shake my head and laugh as I flip my blinker to make a right onto the highway that leads back to my house, his second home. My twin sister Willow is raising him alone after her one-night stand the night before our college graduation ended with a bonus chapter.

  She’s an ER nurse, though, and doesn’t work nine to five. Grayson may be old enough to stay home alone but old habits die hard. Even when I was in vet school, I made sure to have a place for him at my apartment. And when I bought my large piece of land to build a home on, I did so with him in mind. There was an old barn on the back end of the property and lots of open space for him to play, be a kid. I let him decorate his own room for when he stays with me the nights his mom is working. I wanted space for him to run and play. I had dreams of him playing on a tire swing hanging from a mature tree. Of me relaxing on a porch swing. It might sound weird, dreaming of a home for a family that’s not even my own.

  “And that translates to you eating, too?”

  “Yeah?” he asks it like I’m the one who’s weird.

  I stop at the four way stop in the highway, look both ways and continue on.

  “I have some hamburger patties already in the fridge. We can throw them on the grill when we get home. You staying again tonight?”

  “Yeah I’m staying. Especially if you do burgers. I could eat a freaking cow,” he grumbles.

  It’s only five-thirty in the evening, but considering he’s been helping me at the vet clinic all day, I’m sure he is hungry considering he hasn’t eaten since noon. It might be Saturday but that doesn’t mean the animals don’t need help.

  I ease off the gas when I see a shiny black car on the side of the road… and a woman kicking the absolute crap out of the side of it.

  “What the heck?” Grayson asks, laughing.

  “No clue,” I mutter, slowly driving past, both of us rubbernecking the entire way.

  Grayson looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes. “Whip around. I wanna see what’s going on.”

  “Nosey shit.”

  “She could be in trouble. You’re the one always telling me to
help strangers in need.”

  “She’s kicking her car, Grayson. She could be on her way to crazytown.”

  “Or… she could be stranded.”

  I grumble, just wanting to get home but knowing I won’t be able to relax once I’m there until I know if she’s okay or not. I pull a U-turn in the middle of the highway, my front tires dipping into the ditch for just a minute before I get straightened out before pulling over to a stop on the road across from her and rolling down my window.

  She seems oblivious to our presence so I watch her for a few minutes before she suddenly stops attacking her car and reaches inside the car and the trunk pops open. We continue watching as she walks around the back of the car and begins rummaging around inside the trunk, throwing out a suitcase that lands in the ditch beside her. She seems to think better of her actions because she traipses after it and opens it. Men’s clothes fly all around her as she stomps around in the grassy ditch.

  “I wish I had some popcorn,” Grayson says.

  I ignore his insinuation that this woman is here to entertain us, even though I, too, can’t pull my eyes away from whatever’s happening.

  Satisfied with destroying the contents of the suitcase, she trudges back up the side of the ditch, slipping just once but it doesn’t seem to faze her. A set of golf clubs is pulled out of the trunk next. She takes one club out inspects it, and throws it like a Frisbee into the field. She does the same with the others, save for one, chucking them each in different directions.

  She takes out what looks to be the 9-iron and lays it gently on the ground by her feet before she rolls the golf bag around in the gravel on the side of the road then throws it overhead to join the clothes.

  Standing up straight she bends over to grab the club off the ground. She slams the trunk shut and we watch wide-eyed as she walks around to the front of the car.

  “Oh shit,” Grayson mutters and I know I should get on him for cursing but he’s right, and I just said the same word so it’s not like I can say much anyway.

  Instead, I scramble quickly to get out of the pickup and yell, “Stop!”

  Golf club suspended mid-air, she turns and looks at me as if noticing I’m here for the first time.