One Chance (The Sullivan Family, #3)

by Lena Hendrix

The girl I dated and the woman who wrote me letters were like two completely different people.

This should have been a clue.

Did his eyes just move over my mouth? My heart hammered. “To Annette. You were always meant to be a Sullivan.”

I had always wanted a love like that—a love that left you so consumed with the other person that you couldn’t imagine taking a single breath without them.

In a heartbeat, Lee crowded my space. His large hand cupped the back of my neck as he pulled me into him. He hesitated only a fraction of a second before pulling my mouth to his. In one searing kiss, Lee Sullivan completely changed the rules.

I couldn’t imagine a life without the woman I had come to love in those letters.

A life without Annie felt like a life without oxygen.

If I wanted things to truly change between us, then I would have to change. It had already started.

“You’re damn right I’m jealous. I also don’t like the way he looks at you—like whatever’s going on between you is some kind of game. You’re not a game. You’re the fucking prize.”

Annie breathed out. “I thought this was supposed to be fake.” I leaned down to whisper. “Nothing about the way I feel about you is fake. It never has been.”

“Technically, this is in public.” I leaned back to appreciate how gorgeous she looked, full lips parted in surprise and a sexy little flush staining her cheeks. “Fuck, baby, I’m getting hard just looking at you.”

Every interaction between us jumbled in my mind as I attempted to sift through reality versus wishful thinking or outright denial.

“Goddamn, Annette. I always thought you were pretty, but you are fucking gorgeous when you fall apart.”

Helen Sinclair married Philo Sullivan in 1931. Tootie was certain, even without a marriage certificate, because in the photo of Helen and the two men, it was clear she was the source of the devilishly charming Sullivan smile.

Maybe Annie could have been mine from the beginning. Maybe she already had been.

Annie was so much more than my best friend. She was a balm for my tattered soul.

“Lee,” she breathed, arching into my mouth. “What are we doing?” “We’re forgetting anyone else exists.”

I smelled her bright, sunshine scent before even opening my eyes. Tightening my arms, I held Annie’s body against mine. Draped across my chest was a riot of auburn curls. I buried my nose in her hair and stilled. I wanted to live in that moment forever.

I’m not here despite who you think you are . . . I’m here with you because of the man I know you are.”

Annie had never disregarded me as a player, like everyone else had. Instead, she’d fought to look beyond my shields to see me.

“There’s going to be plenty of times it feels hard.” Dad leaned on his knees and looked into the black coffee. “You’ll mess up, or maybe she will. It’ll happen. But you gotta dig past the hurt. Go deep and remember how it feels when she looks at you like you’re the best man in the room, because to her, you are.”

“What you had with Margo was not great love. It was young love. Usually young love is intense and cleverly disguised as great love. But the lucky ones learn that great love isn’t the explosive drama and all-consuming passion of young love. It’s subtler. It’s a deep, cavernous ache that won’t ever let you go. That, dear boy, is great love.”

“There is no distance between your heart and mine. Every single day with you is the best day of my life.”

“I will make up for every moment we missed out on. I will fight for you and for this love, because it is everything. You are everything.”

“I want laughter and babies and lazy Sundays. I want it all with you—the passion, the laughter. I want to sit across a kitchen table and go over a grocery list with you. I don’t know how to love small. Not when it comes to you.”

would show her every day that she and I were meant for each other. That every day with her was the best day of my life. All I needed was one chance.