A Chance at Love Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Blurb

  Copyright

  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

  Thank You

  Author Bio

  Titles by Silvia Violet

  On the flight back home to San Diego, Chance Emerson meets an intriguing older man. They flirt, and Chance hopes for more, but the man never calls. Months later, they meet again at a charity auction. Chance decides this time he isn’t walking away.

  Darren Walsh can’t stop thinking about the gorgeous grad student who almost had him joining the mile-high club. When Chance suggests they hook up, Darren says the only thing he can—yes.

  From their first moments together, Chance and Darren know there’s more between them than lust, but their differences in age and income make a real relationship challenging. They decide to keep things secret, yet as they learn more about each other, Darren realizes he wants something real and open. To have that, he’ll need to convince Chance that he has a place in Darren’s world, and Darren will have to take some risks of his own.

  A Chance at Love by Silvia Violet

  Copyright © 2018 by Silvia Violet

  Cover art by LC Chase

  Edited by Keren Reed

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Published in the United States of America.

  A Chance at Love is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictionalized. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Darren sighed as he headed down the jetway. He was finally going home. A two-hour weather delay had capped off one hell of a grueling week. But he’d gotten the support he needed for his new project, which meant he could relax and fully enjoy his first-class seat for the trip back to San Diego. He stowed his bag and settled in by the window, ready to catch up on some episodes of his favorite podcast while he had a drink or several. He fucking deserved them.

  He adjusted the window shade so it kept the sun out of his eyes but still allowed him to see out. No matter how often he flew—and it was far more often than he liked recently—he never grew tired of watching the ground fall away as people, cars, and trees grew smaller and smaller and the clouds began to look like a tangible blanket.

  “Ahh! This must be my seat.” The loud, enthusiastic voice startled Darren. A young man was making a dramatic show of checking his boarding pass against the row number. He had reddish-blond hair that stood up from his head in a spiky arrangement that made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed. Maybe he had, because—no, he couldn’t be. But another look assured Darren that the man was, in fact, wearing pajama bottoms. And that wasn’t even the most arresting thing about him. He was holding one of those giant canisters of garishly orange cheese balls one might see in an aisle-blocking display at Costco, a place Darren thankfully hadn’t been to in years.

  And yet despite the hair, the PJs, and the odd choice of carry-on, the guy was hot as hell. Darren couldn’t stop himself from imagining how it would feel to run his hands over the muscles displayed by the guy’s too-tight T-shirt.

  Please let him be in the wrong seat.

  “Yep! This is it,” the man declared.

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” Darren said as he pushed the lurid images from his mind. The guy looked like he was in college. Surely he didn’t have a seat in first class.

  “Umm…” The man set his party-sized snack down in the seat and glanced at his boarding pass again.

  “Sir? Is there a problem?” A flight attendant stopped by their row.

  “Just making sure I’m in the right place.”

  She glanced at his boarding pass. “Yes, sir. Please have a seat, and we’ll be on our way shortly.”

  “See?” he said, turning to look at Darren. “I was right after all.” He still sounded as excited as he had when he’d entered the plane, despite Darren being rather obvious about his annoyance.

  You just don’t like how turned on you are.

  Darren didn’t want to think about that. He murmured his acknowledgment and reached into his briefcase. If he just put on his headph—

  “You want some?” The guy unscrewed the top on his ridiculous cheese-ball container.

  “No thank you.”

  “Are you sure? I have plenty to share.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Ugh. Did he need to sound like such an ass? The guy was just being friendly.

  “I’ve always wanted to get one of these giant containers. I don’t know why I never have. It just seemed…”

  “Ridiculous?” Darren supplied.

  “Yeah, like way too much. But today I was walking by one of those shops that have all kinds of shit people must impulse-buy in airports, like spoons commemorating the city or hats no one’s really going to wear, and there this baby sat.”

  “Why would anyone need a giant container of cheese balls in an airport?”

  The guy shrugged. “I have no idea. I mean, I don’t think anyone ever actually needs them; who’s going to eat all these before a flight? You’d have to have a really long layover. But I bought it, so there must be other people as crazy as me.”

  Darren wasn’t sure about that. He reached for his headphones again.

  “It’s a day of firsts for me,” the too-hot-for-his-own-good guy said.

  Darren considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but he made the mistake of glancing over and catching sight of his seat mate’s full lips, now orange from the cheese powder. Darren should have been repulsed. Instead, he wanted to lick the guy clean. He was alluring in some way Darren couldn’t explain. Maybe because he was so different from anyone Darren knew. And Darren had certainly never been that relaxed or open himself, not even when he’d been that painfully young.

  Oh, shit. Darren realized the guy had continued to talk, but he hadn’t heard a word because he was mesmerized by the guy’s mouth. He forced himself to stop gazing at those plump lips, but when he looked up, Darren became captivated by his eyes instead. Hazel was probably the best description for them, but Darren was sure they’d gone from green to light brown to gray since he had sat down.

  “So I thought, why not? And I upgraded and now I’m in first class for the first time. Everyone should try it at least once, right? But you look like you probably fly first class all the time. I mean, that’s a great suit.” The guy gestured at him, and Darren leaned away, thankful for the extra space. He did not need to get any of that cheese powder on his most intimidating suit.

  His seat mate was looking at him expectantly.

  “Thank you,” he said belatedly.

  Too-Hot-For-His-Own-Good smiled as he stuck his hand back into the container and popped several more cheese balls into his mouth. Then he licked each dust-covered finger, his tongue flicking over them.

  Holy fuck, that was hot. Darren couldn’t have been more annoyed with himself. He was getting
off on some much-too-young-for-him guy licking fluorescent chemicals off his hand. What was wrong with him?

  “You sure you don’t want some?”

  Great. Now the guy had caught him staring. At least he thought Darren was looking at the repellent snack. “No thank you. I don’t—”

  “How long has it been since you’ve had one?”

  Darren considered for a moment. “Years. A lot of years.”

  “Aw, you don’t look that old, so even if you had them back when you were a kid, it wouldn’t be that long ago, would it?”

  “I just turned forty.” Darren had no idea why he’d blurted that out. Maybe his subconscious hoped to convince the guy he was too old to bother with so he could have some peace and quiet. Did wanting to be left alone mean he was, in fact, old?

  No, it couldn’t, because surely someone old wouldn’t be thinking about other ways he could shut the guy up. He tried to push the image away, but his mind fixated on the thought of his seat mate on his knees, Darren’s hands in his unruly hair.

  “I’m twenty-three,” the man announced.

  “Ready to revise the idea that I’m not that old?”

  He waved away Darren’s question. “No way. A few years ago I dated a guy who was older than you.”

  Darren sputtered. “Y-you what?” The guy was gay. He liked other men. This was—no.

  “I dated—well, more like hooked up with—this guy who was like forty-two. Actually, I thought we were dating, but I don’t think he—”

  “I’ll try one,” Darren practically shouted, desperate for the guy to stop talking. Was this plane ever going to take off? Surely everyone had boarded by now. He glanced out the window and saw ominous clouds moving in. Fuck, they better not change their minds and cancel the flight.

  Chance held out the container, and Darren, very careful to use only his thumb and index finger, extracted one of the orange balls.

  When he bit into it, he got a burst of nostalgic faux-cheese flavor, but after that he might as well have been chewing Styrofoam.

  The radio crackled. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. Sorry for the delay. There’s a back-up waiting for take off, but we’ve just gotten our position and we’ll be departing very soon.”

  “Have another,” the guy insisted. “You have to kind of build up a liking for them. It’s like they’re not really good, but you just keeping reaching in and eating more, and they get better. You sort of have to appreciate the whole experience.”

  Darren wasn’t sure he would find that as fun as this guy obviously did. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Well, if you want some later, just tell me.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “I’m Chance.” He held out an orange-stained hand to shake, then almost immediately jerked it back. “You probably don’t want to get this stuff all over you. Never mind.”

  “I’m Darren.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He gave Darren an assessing glance and then winked at him.

  Darren felt heat creep up his neck and into his face. Why the hell was he embarrassed that this guy was checking him out? He ought to be flattered. “Um, I have some work I should do.” Um. Had he really said um? He was more articulate than that.

  “Aw, that’s too bad.” Chance’s adorable pout nearly did him in.

  The flight attendant passed by to offer them blankets. “Do you need some napkins, sir?” she asked when she saw Chance’s hands.

  “Oh yeah, that’d be great.” His genuine smile did things to Darren he’d rather not think about too closely.

  The flight attendant returned, and Chance wiped his hands and then stood. When he reached into the overhead bin, his T-shirt rose, showing a strip of skin above the waistband of his pajama pants. Darren couldn’t tear his eyes away. What was happening to him? He didn’t usually struggle so hard with self-control.

  It’s just physical attraction. He’s a very well put together man. That doesn’t mean—

  “I bought this new game,” Chance said, holding up a pack of cards. “You want to play if you finish your work?”

  Who plays cards with strangers on planes? “Have you ever flown before?”

  “Oh yeah, a bunch of times. I got my seat with points, remember? Well, really they were my grandma’s points. I felt kind of guilty using them for this, but she said to go ahead and treat myself.”

  Chance must have told him that while Darren zoned out staring at his lips. Dammit. Now he was staring at them again.

  “Do I have cheese stuff on my face?” Chance grabbed another napkin and scrubbed at his chin.

  How did he even look hot wiping his mouth? Darren couldn’t ever remember wanting a man as young as Chance, not even when Darren was that young himself. But everything about Chance was sexy—the way he moved, the way he—

  “So do you need to work, or do you want to hear about the game?”

  If Darren let him talk, he could watch him, the way he gestured, the way he— Chance looked up, and their gazes met. Shit! Darren had been staring again.

  “Are you okay?” Chance asked.

  “I…yeah. I just really need to do this work thing.”

  The plane began moving. Slowly at first. Then faster and faster and they were airborne. He and Chance both looked out the window as the ground rushed away, trees and houses shrinking to toy size and then becoming indistinct.

  Darren didn’t really have to work, but he found his reaction to Chance far too confusing. Work would settle him. He was good at his job even if he became indecisive and inarticulate around unusually talkative men half his age. He pulled his iPad out of his briefcase as the flight attendant began making her way through the small number of first-class seats.

  When she stopped at Darren’s row, he ordered a bourbon before she’d even asked if he’d like a drink.

  “And for you, sir?” she asked Chance.

  “Hmmm. I’m not too crazy about flying, so probably alcohol would be a bad idea. I better just have a Coke.”

  She smiled. “You have nothing to worry about, sir. We’ll take good care of you. And I’ll bring you a Coke right away.”

  Great. Caffeine is just what this kid needs.

  Calling him a kid won’t make him any less of a delicious man.

  “So you gonna work now?” Chance asked, glancing toward his iPad.

  “Yes, I’d better.” Chance looked so disappointed, Darren seriously considered changing his mind, but he was going to start drooling if he kept watching him. Not that he was sure he could concentrate on work, knowing Chance was right there. If he put on headphones, he might be able to distract himself with a podcast while he went over some spreadsheets.

  After analyzing the numbers he’d discussed with his new partner in Houston, he glanced over at Chance and saw that he’d turned on a movie, something from The Fast and the Furious franchise, if Darren wasn’t mistaken.

  When Darren was about halfway through his report, some stomach-rattling turbulence rocked the plane. He didn’t usually suffer from motion sickness, but the bumps and dips made it difficult to keep working, so he closed his iPad. That was when he realized Chance was squeezing the armrests so hard, Darren wondered if they might snap in two.

  “Hey, Chance, are you okay?”

  The young man jumped and then looked at him. “Oh, um. I just… I…”

  “You don’t like the turbulence.”

  “I don’t think anybody likes it, but I… It scares me, more than it should.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about your card game, get your mind off it.”

  “You really wouldn’t mind?” Chance asked, looking far too much like an eager puppy.

  “I can’t work with all this shaking.”

  “It doesn’t make you nervous, though, does it?”

  Darren shook his head. “No, not especially.”

  Chance blushed, and it had to be the hottest thing Darren had ever seen. He wanted to make Chance blush like that when he was laid out naked on Darren’s sheet
s.

  No, absolutely not. That would be a disaster. Why had his common sense abandoned him?

  “Other things make me nervous, though,” he said, wanting Chance to feel like he was sympathetic. How the hell had he gone from willing to try anything to get Chance to stop talking to wanting to comfort him?

  “Like what?” Chance asked, seeming to relax a bit.

  Great. Now he was supposed to bare his secrets to a stranger on a plane. Better than to someone he saw regularly, he supposed. He doubted he’d ever see this kid—he’s really not a kid—again.

  “Chain saws,” Darren blurted out.

  Chance grinned but didn’t outright make fun of him. “Using one? The sound? What gets to you?”

  Darren shuddered at the thought of using one. “Thanks to my older brother’s terrible judgment, I saw Texas Chain Saw Massacre when I was way too young. For some reason, while I can watch most eighties’ horror movies now and do more laughing than screaming, the sound of a chain saw still makes me uneasy.”

  Chance pressed his lips together, obviously trying not to laugh. “I guess that sucks if you need to have a tree cut down.”

  “Noise-cancelling headphones help.”

  “That’s good. What else?”

  “I only know one of your fears. Are we making this an equitable exchange?”

  “Sure. I hate giving presentations. I can talk to anybody like this”—he gestured between them—“but if I have to stand up in front of a group, I panic and my mind goes blank. I mean, I do it because I have to, but I hate it.”

  Darren would’ve never guessed that. Chance seemed so comfortable in his own skin, ridiculously so.

  “Rejection. That’s my biggest fear.”

  Chance’s expression softened, and Darren sucked in his breath. Chance was beautiful, and Darren was…insane. What was he doing saying things like this to a stranger? Chance made it so easy to forget himself.

  “Just ignore that.” He turned away, looking out the window.