All I'll Ever Need Read online

  Contents

  Also By Natasha Anders

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Also By Natasha Anders

  THE UNWANTED SERIES

  The Unwanted Wife

  A Husband’s Regret

  His Unlikely Lover

  ALPHA MEN SERIES

  The Wingman

  The Best Man

  The Wrong Man

  THE BROKEN PIECES DUET

  More Than Anything

  Nothing But This

  (UN)PROFESSIONALLY YOURS SERIES

  The Best Next Thing

  Protect Me Not

  STAND ALONE BOOKS

  A Ruthless Proposition

  YOU CAN FIND ALL NATASHA’S BOOKS ON AMAZON

  https://www.amazon.com/Natasha-Anders/e/B009JXLV3Y

  www.natashaanders.com

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

  Text copyright © 2022 by Natasha Anders

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover by Sweet N Spicy Designs

  Formatting by Ashleigh Giannoccaro

  Edited by Tamsyn Bester

  Chapter One

  She was so quiet.

  Lincoln Taylor cast a concerned glance at the back of Jupe’s curly head. His wife was staring out of the passenger window and hadn’t said a word since they had climbed into this rental car at King Shaka International Airport in Durban half an hour ago.

  Only thirty minutes into what would be a three-hour long drive and Linc was already feeling the strain.

  “That was a bit of mad dash, huh?” he said, pitching his voice to be heard above the incessantly cheerful chatter of the radio deejay.

  Her shoulders tightened at the sound and she appeared to flinch slightly.

  His wife had flinched… at the sound of his voice.

  That damned near eviscerated him. Linc blinked back the hot moisture rising behind his eyes and cleared the burn from his throat. His hands tightened on the steering wheel while he frantically searched for something more to say. Anything to get past this horrendous moment. But nothing would come, and he sank into miserable silence, silently pleading with her to turn and look at him.

  Smile at him.

  Laugh with him. The way she used to do.

  “How so?” Her voice was quiet, strained, but just loud enough to be heard above the radio deejay’s braying cackle.

  Gratified—and relieved—by her response, Linc thumbed the volume button on the steering wheel until the radio was barely noticeable background noise.

  “I know I rushed us through that terminal like a bat out of hell, but I wanted to get on the road as quickly as possible in case the weather worsened. I’ve driven in snow before and I definitely never want to do it again. Especially not in an ill-equipped car. We could get stranded and miss the wedding entirely.”

  His baby sister was marrying his best friend this weekend, and they had chosen a hotel in Drakensberg mountains as their venue. The Drakensberg mountains, in the middle of the worst winter South Africa had seen in over a decade.

  Conditions would soon become treacherous for people who rarely saw snow and for damned sure had never driven in slippery, icy conditions.

  His words appeared to snag her attention, and she turned in her seat until she was facing him. Her pretty mouth was downturned in concern.

  “Do you really think it’ll snow?” she asked.

  “That’s what all the forecasts are saying,” he said eagerly, grateful for the excuse to engage with her. His eyes did a rapid inventory of her face. She looked exhausted and she had lost too much weight over the last six months. He had watched her fade right before his eyes, but had been helpless to do anything about it when she had kept herself so distant. He had picked up on those neon keep away flags that had gone up every time he came within a few meters of her, and he had backed off, telling himself he was giving her the time and space she clearly wanted. When, in all honesty, Linc was the one who had needed that space. He was the one unable to deal.

  He shook himself, annoyed that he was going back to those dark memories, when Jupe was here now, present in way she hadn’t been for a long, long time.

  And Linc had been looking forward to this weekend since he had realized that it meant time with his wife in a beautiful and romantic setting.

  It was exactly what they needed after so many weeks of unhappiness.

  “I know Chrissy was excited about the possibility of a dusting of snow, but this could quite conceivably ruin her big day.”

  He didn’t want to talk about his sister, or the wedding, or the fucking weather, but—after months of prolonged strained silences—it was something, and Linc would damned well take it.

  “It’ll be fine, we’ll be there, as will both sets of parents and other immediate family, so if the worst happens, we could still make it work.”

  She made a noncommittal noise, her hands nervously twisting in her lap.

  Linc searched for a way to continue the conversation.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asked, fiddling with the air conditioning dials to turn the heat up some more.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered.

  “Okay. Good. Let me know if uh—” He couldn’t for the life of him think of a way to complete that sentence and his voice tapered off while he refocused his gaze on the road.

  If this car ride already felt interminable, how the hell were they going to get through the weekend?

  It used to be so easy to communicate with his beautiful, happy Jupe. They would laugh and talk for hours about everything and nothing.

  Linc wanted his best friend back and this weekend would be the first step toward them finding their way back to each other.

  Chapter Two

  “Chrissy really went overboard with this place,” Linc commented as he tipped the bellhop and shut the door behind the man.

  Juniper Taylor silently agreed with his assessment. Her eyes scanned the luxurious, overly romantic hotel suite. It had panoramic views of the mountain and was the epitome of indulgence, romance, and elegance.

  She silently screamed at the thought of sharing this room with her estranged husband for the next three nights. They hadn’t slept in the same bed for months and she eyed the huge king-sized four poster monstrosity with trepidation.

  But there was no getting out of this. The small boutique hotel was fully booked for Chrissy’s wedding and asking for a separate room would be futile. Besides, the family didn’t know how badly things were going with their marriage and June would rather not let the cat out of the bag this weekend. It would ruin Chrissy’s big day. June loved her sister-in-law and wanted her wedding to be perfect.

  She looked around, hoping for a sofa or something that could double as a spare bed. There were two huge, comfy chairs, an ottoman, and various other antiques, but nothing large enough for her or Linc to sleep on.

&n
bsp; Linc didn’t seem as uncomfortable as she felt. He dropped the bags and smiled at her. He looked remarkably cheerful and that grated on June’s nerves.

  “Dinner’s in an hour. Want to grab a shower beforehand?”

  Shelving her concern about the sleeping arrangements for the moment, June dropped her handbag on the bed and nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

  “We could share a shower. Save water.”

  The suggestion, delivered quietly but accompanied by a cheeky grin, shocked the hell out of her. She blinked at him uncomprehendingly for a few seconds and his grin faded, to be replaced by uncertainty.

  “Uhm what?” Her voice sounded hoarse, even to her own ears, and she knew her shock was evident in the way she was gawking at him in confusion.

  Linc, who had been in the process of unzipping his suitcase, straightened, and gave her his full focus. His gray eyes were somber and intense.

  “Jupe, it’s been six months. I thought we could get back to normal this weekend.”

  Back to normal? When June had been thinking of nothing but separation followed by divorce, he wanted to get back to normal? What the hell was normal?

  “Linc…” she began, her voice hoarse and strained. “We haven’t been normal for so much longer than just six months. I was thinking it’s over.”

  “Over? I don’t understand.” He looked shocked. Blindsided. How could this come as a surprise to him? Surely, he had seen the end looming as clearly as she had?

  “I want a divorce,” she said, her voice quiet and cautious. “You must have known we were headed toward this? You moved out of our room.”

  “Because of …” He swallowed. “Because I thought you wanted—needed—the space. I kept my distance for your sake.”

  For her sake? How did that make sense? How did moving out of their bedroom during one of the most traumatic periods of her life make any kind of sense?

  “I wanted—” She stopped abruptly. What she had wanted back then barely signified anymore. What she wanted now was all that mattered. She shook her head impatiently. “I don’t want to get into all of that right now. I need a shower. I won’t be long.”

  She hurriedly rifled through her bag for a change of clothes, painfully aware of his intense scrutiny while the silence screamed all around them. She finally found a change of underwear and a simple slip dress and grabbed her toiletry bag. She hastened to the massive en-suite bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her, locking it for good measure.

  Only then did she allow herself to react. She leaned back against the door, not sure how much longer her shaking legs could support her, and dropped her toiletries and clothes on the vanity. She lifted her violently trembling hands to her mouth in an attempt to muffle her sobs as she finally succumbed to tears.

  June was unable to believe that she had actually said the words. That this was the end for them. She sagged against the door, trying to block the image of his expression from her mind. He had looked completely shell-shocked by her words. But how could that be? Surely, he must want this even more than she did?

  After everything that had happened it was inconceivable to her that he’d want to remain burdened with a defective wife like her.

  Chapter Three

  SIX MONTHS AGO

  “Jupe?” Linc’s voice was tentative and small.

  June found herself reluctant to turn around and face him. She stared blankly out of the hospital window, willing him to turn around and leave.

  “Sweetheart? How are you doing?” The tenderness would undo her. She hated it. She didn’t want to cry. She refused to cry. Not when she had known—deep down where she harbored all her private hopes and fears—that this would happen again.

  After all, it had happened the previous three times. Why would this pregnancy be any different?

  He rounded the narrow bed, and infiltrated her field of vision until all she could see was his big, rangy body. He bent to kiss her cheek and she braced herself for the contact, hating how much she resented having him here right now, intruding on her grief.

  His lips were warm on her cold cheek and it was all she could do not to flinch at the heat. She must not have done too good a job of hiding her reaction from him because there was a flash of hurt and confusion in his eyes before he tugged the uncomfortable visitor’s chair toward the bed and sank into it.

  He carefully placed a massive bouquet of cheerful daffodils and forget-me-nots on the bedside cabinet and the friendly blooms made her feel sick to her stomach. They were her favorite flowers, but right now they felt funereal and she loathed the sight of them.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” he murmured, his eyes intent on her face. “I should have been here.”

  “Nothing you could have done,” she said with a listless shrug. “It happened so fast. Same as the others.”

  He looked somewhat mollified by her words. They were true, it had happened very fast, and yet June had resented him for going on that business trip and leaving her alone in her third month of pregnancy. When all the other miscarriages had happened at almost the same stage of her pregnancy. He should have known she would be terrified and he should never have left her. But they’d both pretended that everything was fine. She had insisted he leave, despite his token protests, and she’d seen the relief in his eyes when he had taken her at her word that she was okay and had fled.

  He reached for one of her hands, enfolding her cold, limp fingers in both of his warm palms.

  “We can’t keep doing this, Jupe. It’s destroying me to watch you go through this over and over again.”

  She felt a resurgence of resentment at his words: Watch you go through this.

  As if June was the only one in this. As if she was going through this alone and he was a mere bystander. Which, if June was being completely honest with herself, he was starting to feel like. Just a stranger, standing on the sidelines, watching her drive off cliffs and into walls.

  “Jupe.” He seemed to consider his next words carefully before inhaling deeply and just putting them out there. “This is too stressful, sweetheart. We should consider something else. Surrogacy, perhaps?”

  June felt as if the air had been ripped from her lungs. She tugged her hand from his grip and, after resisting for a moment, he allowed her retreat.

  Surrogacy. He wanted a substitute to carry their child because June wasn’t up to the task.

  It hurt. It was unbearably painful simply because it was the God’s honest truth. He wanted children and June couldn’t carry them to term. An alternate solution was required.

  But she couldn’t think about this now, so soon after her fourth miscarriage. She turned toward the door, giving him her back, unable to even look at him right now.

  “Jupe.” His voice throbbed with emotion. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to.”

  “I’m tired.” Her voice was rough with emotion and suppressed tears. “They’re keeping me overnight because of the D and C”—dilation and curettage—“but I should be ready to come home tomorrow. There’s no reason for you to stay. You must be tired after your trip.”

  “I can stay.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “Jupe, please.”

  “I know the drill by now. I’ll be fine.”

  “We have to talk about this.”

  “Not now.” Her sharp tone silenced him and she could sense his wariness and uncertainty. “There’s a time and a place. And while I get that this is becoming routine for you, I need to take a beat. Okay?”

  The chair scraped against the floor and she heard the rustle of denim and cotton as he got up. She started when she felt one of his big hands roughly comb through her curls, then felt the heat of his body as he bent over her to drop a kiss on her temple.

  “I’ll be here to pick you up in the morning, okay? You just rest, my darling. I hate to see you like this. We’ll figure this out. I promise you.”

  He hesitated for a moment longer and when she refused to respond he
rounded the bed and headed to the door, where he paused to look back at her.

  “You mean the world to me, Jupe. You got that? Together, we’ll get through this.”

  With that vehement promise, delivered in that firm, convincing take-charge voice of his, it was hard not to believe him.

  Only, June didn’t believe him. She couldn’t. He didn’t think she could have his baby. Hell, she didn’t think she could do it either. How were they supposed to overcome that fundamental flaw in her make up?

  She didn’t see how they could.

  All she knew was that she could no longer do this. She was done trying. Especially when, with each pregnancy, she had felt Linc’s increasing hesitation. With this last one, he had barely shown an interest. And who could blame him when they all ended like this?

  She honestly didn’t see a way forward for them from here.

  Chapter Four

  The note June found resting on top of her open suitcase, when she emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, was curt and to the point. She contemplated the words for a moment. The short missive didn’t give her much insight into Linc’s current state of mind. Was he really as shocked as he had seemed earlier? That reaction seemed implausible considering how cold and distant he had been for so many months. They had barely spoken, rarely shared meals and, most significantly, had not been intimate at all. In two-and-a-half years of marriage, it had been the longest they’d gone without sex or even just a kiss. And that had felt like the death knell for their marriage, which had seemed too good to be true to her from the very beginning.