Their Mountain Reunion (The Second Chance Club Book 1)

by Patricia Johns

  “You were telling the truth.”

  “I’m still sorry.” Because it had hurt him at his most vulnerable, and even if he could be utterly impossible, she still cared.

  He didn’t answer, but his dark gaze enveloped her, making her catch her breath.

  “I should get home,” she whispered. She knew she should leave, though her legs didn’t seem to be making that happen.

  “If you need to,” he said. “But I’m not chasing you off...”

  Melanie crossed the few feet between them, stood up on her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms around him. He was solid, warm and musky, and she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

  Logan’s arms came around her, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head, exhaling a long sigh. His arms felt good around her, however, she wasn’t looking for her own comfort, but for his.

  He’d lost his father today, and this was all she could offer.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LOGAN CLOSED HIS EYES, inhaling the soft scent of the woman in his arms. This was the first time he’d been hugged in...a long time. Having her hold him like this—no demands, no seduction—it softened a part of him that he wanted to keep strong. She held him tight, and he could feel the beat of her heart. She was strong, warm, and he realized belatedly that she was holding him up. A lump rose in his throat and tears stung his eyes.

  He swallowed hard. He didn’t want to give in to these feelings, though his determination to keep his feelings in check was the very thing the women in his life kept complaining about.

  “I’m okay,” he said gruffly, straightening and pulling back. Her hands lingered against his sides, and he caught them in his own rough grasp.

  “Why don’t you tell me about Harry—the real guy,” she said. “Not the worst stories and not the idealized ones—the ordinary stories about your dad.”

  “You said you need to go,” he reminded her. “I’m not trying to monopolize you here...”

  “Half an hour,” she said. “Then I’ll head out.”

  She was offering her friendship, and for that he was deeply grateful. Logan pulled up a chair to face the one he already had sitting by the balcony door.

  They sat, and Melanie tucked her legs up underneath her. They were a proper foot and a half apart. He didn’t trust himself to be closer to her than that. Even though he had some very good reasons not to cross any lines with her, there was something about a dim hotel room and a beautiful woman that emptied his head of all reason. It was better to keep a physical distance.

  “Okay...well...let me think.” He leaned back in the chair. “My dad liked to fish. That’s something. I used to pretend I liked it, too...”

  They talked into the night, the half hour she’d allotted coming and going several times over as the moon moved across the sky. This would have been a miserable evening—dark and lonesome. But with Mel here, their voices murmuring out the patio door and into the night air, he could feel those complicated emotions untangling deep inside of him.

  He’d get her safely to her vehicle soon... Really soon...

  He wasn’t sure whose eyes drifted shut first, but the next thing he knew, it was morning.

  * * *

  LOGAN’S BACK HAD a crick in it, and he winced as he levered himself up to a fully upright position. Melanie was still asleep, her breath coming slow and deep. He paused to look at her. Her hair was rumpled and her lipstick was long gone. She sighed and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Morning,” he murmured.

  “Hmm...” She blinked a couple of times, then shifted, sitting up straight. “What time is it? Is it morning?” Her gaze whipped to the open patio door and the golden light filtering in from outside. “Oh, my goodness!”

  Logan reached over to the desk where his phone sat and looked at it.

  “It’s six,” he said.

  Melanie jumped up, her cheeks flooding with color. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep! It’s six in the morning? Tilly’s back at my place. I feel terrible.”

  “Why?” he asked with a shake of his head.

  “She’s going to ask questions! That’s why!”

  “She’s pregnant! I’m pretty sure she’s not quite that naive, Mel,” he said, a laugh tinging his tone.

  Melanie shot him a sharp look. “I’ve got to get home.”

  She wasn’t returning his smile, and he felt a wave of regret. He hadn’t meant to keep her here or cause her any embarrassment. But still, having stayed out with him couldn’t be that awful, could it?

  Melanie grabbed her high heels and slipped her feet into them. She paused at the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, then ran her tongue over her teeth.

  “I’ve got a comb and mouthwash in the bathroom,” he offered.

  “Thank you...”

  Logan waited, listening to the water run. He pulled a piece of gum out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth, chewing as he waited for her to come back out again.

  The bathroom door opened, and she came out looking smoother, a little more put together. Melanie headed for the door, and as she swept past him, he reached out and caught her hand. “Mel...”

  She let him tug her to a stop and turned back, those soft brown eyes filled with worry, embarrassment, some tenderness. Whatever this had been last night, it was nothing to be ashamed of. She’d been there for him in a way that he hadn’t experienced in a really long time, and whatever was growing between them had been a lifesaver last night. It wasn’t tawdry, and he wouldn’t let her run off like it was.

  “I’m not the kind of guy who has a woman spend the night, and then sends her off without a kiss, at least,” he said with a small smile.

  That cracked the tension and she laughed softly. “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

  He tugged her closer, then slipped his arms around her waist. “I still have a few standards about how I treat a woman.”

  Melanie looked up at him, her eyes sparkling at his humor. “I stayed because I care, Logan.”

  “And I appreciate that more than you know,” he said, sobering. “Seriously.”

  She sobered, too. Her gaze stayed locked on his and he leaned closer, then brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “This isn’t necessary,” she whispered.

  “I know. Maybe I just want to.”

  He hovered there, waiting for her to pull back, to push him away, but she didn’t. He bent down and lowered his lips over hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, it was just the feeling of their lips, their breath, and then he broke off the kiss and stepped back.

  “I want the credit for not having done that even once last night,” he said, a smile tickling at the corners of his lips.

  “Do you need credit for it?” she asked.

  “I really do. Trust me, it’s worth recognizing.”

  Melanie laughed softly, and without another word, pulled the door open and disappeared into the hallway. He went to the door and looked out just as her dark blue dress flowed behind her as she swept down the staircase.

  Logan shut the door softly and pressed his lips together. Whatever this was between them, it was starting to mean something to him, and he needed to be careful. Mel deserved better than him.

  He pulled out his cell phone. He’d text Graham and give him the news that his grandfather had died. It wouldn’t hit Graham too hard—he’d never met Harry. His formative relationships had been with Logan’s mom and with Caroline’s parents.

  But he deserved to know, all the same.

  * * *

  MELANIE ARRIVED BACK at the house, and she spotted a classic Mercedes convertible in forest green parked next to Tilly’s red sports car. Adam liked classic cars, but this wasn’t one that she recognized. Unless he’d acquired a new one... Had Adam come back from Japan early? Part of her felt relieved—Tilly needed her dad right now. Bu
t seeing him again—her heart gave a squeeze. She hated that man for what he’d done to her, and she missed him, too. She missed the family they used to be and her hopes for the future, now shattered.

  She didn’t want to be his fallback when he was busy with work and wasn’t even in the country. And the thought of seeing Adam again reminded her of exactly why she couldn’t be playing with whatever she was feeling for Logan. She’d given up too much for love in the past, and she’d learned her lesson.

  Because Logan had left her, too. Sure, he regretted it now. Even Adam regretted losing her. Regardless, she’d given her heart over to both men, without restraint and with full trust. She’d been all in—wasn’t that how a successful relationship worked? Well, never again.

  And yet, Logan’s kiss was fresh in her memory—the way he’d pulled her close, the feeling of his lips against hers, the faint tickle of his stubble against her face... It had been an emotional evening, and having her in his room like that... She didn’t know what either of them had been thinking. They weren’t naive kids anymore. He had some big issues with his late wife, and she’d been betrayed by her husband of fifteen years. Giving in to whatever she was feeling for Logan again wasn’t wise.

  Melanie parked her SUV in her regular spot and hopped out. How was this going to look, walking in wearing last night’s evening wear? A nagging sense of irrational guilt clung to her as she headed up the walk and let herself into the house.

  Tilly stood in the kitchen wearing a pair of low-cut jeans and a white crop top with a bowl held up in one hand. Her belly was as smooth and tight as it had always been. She cast Melanie an arch look.

  “Ah. You’re back,” Tilly said.

  “I’m back,” Melanie said.

  “Where were you?” Tilly asked, lifting a dribbling bite of cereal to her mouth.

  “I was with a friend,” Melanie said. “I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to be out this long.”

  “Fell asleep.” A smile quirked up the corners of Tilly’s lips. “Yeah, I seem to remember telling you that once a couple of years ago, and you grounded me for a month.”

  Melanie tossed her purse onto the counter. “I’m adult. You were not.”

  “Yeah, and neither one of us fell asleep, did we?” Tilly made air quotes with one hand.

  Melanie blinked. “I did.”

  She looked around—Adam wasn’t in the room.

  “I’m not sure I believe that, Miss Melanie,” Tilly replied. “So who was he—that guy who bought us lunch?”

  “Logan—” Melanie stopped. She really didn’t owe any explanations here. “Tilly, I’m sorry I didn’t call. How are you feeling? Nauseated, still?”

  “Fine for now,” Tilly said, taking another bite. “But I threw up a few times earlier this morning.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re eating now. Is your father here?”

  There was a backpack on the living room floor, some crumpled bags from a fast-food restaurant and a tablet lying on the couch cushion. This wasn’t Adam...

  Simon came sauntering into the kitchen. He regarded Melanie with mild surprise.

  Simon was about as tall as Tilly was, and he wore slim-fitting jeans and a T-shirt with a band logo Melanie didn’t recognize. His hair was shaggy, and he had a bandage on his arm as if he had a new tattoo healing.

  “Oh, hey,” Simon said, then turned to Tilly. “Are you packed yet?”

  Tilly shook her head, and said past a bite of cereal, “I’m eating.”

  “Well, pack!” Simon rolled his eyes. “What are you eating for again?”

  “I threw up,” she said.

  “So quit eating.”

  “I’m pregnant, Simon,” Tilly retorted. “I’m supposed to eat. It nourishes our child. Read a book.”

  “You’re going to be fat, aren’t you?” he muttered, swiping his bag off the living room floor and shoving a stray shirt inside.

  Melanie’s anger surged inside of her. Fat? The father of Tilly’s child was going to go there? Her first instinct was to smack the kid, but instead she glared at Simon who was looking around the living room, picking up everything but the garbage lying on the floor.

  “Pregnant women eat, Simon,” Melanie said tersely. “And weight gain is healthy. What isn’t healthy is whatever relationship you two seem to have.” She turned to Tilly. “Packing for what?”

  “We’re leaving,” Simon answered for her. “Come on, Tilly. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not packed!” Tilly repeated, raising her voice. “And I’m eating!”

  “Going where?” Melanie raised her voice to match Tilly’s. “Your father is coming here to get you!”

  “Whatever!” Tilly shot back. “So tell him not to bother!”

  “Where are you going?” Melanie repeated.

  “Away. Somewhere. Anywhere. What does it matter? I’m getting out of your precious lake house.”

  “I don’t need you to leave, Tilly.” Melanie lowered her voice. “And I don’t like the way he’s talking to you.”

  “It isn’t your business, is it?” Simon asked with a snide smile. He carried his bag toward the door. “Pack up, Tilly. Now. I’m not saying it again. I’m putting my stuff in the car.”

  “Not saying it again?” Melanie raised her eyebrows and turned to face her stepdaughter.

  The front door banged shut after Simon, and Tilly took another bite.

  “He’s always been like this to you,” Melanie said, not waiting for Tilly to answer and taking advantage of his momentary absence. “You’re pregnant, and he’s going to shame you for eating? He’s going to boss you around? He isn’t good for you, Tilly. You have a baby to worry about now, and stress and fighting isn’t good for you.”

  “Then stop stressing me out,” Tilly said bluntly.

  Melanie shut her eyes for a moment, trying to find her calm. “Please, don’t go.”

  “He’s my boyfriend,” Tilly said. “We’ve got plans.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you do,” Melanie countered. “Where will you be staying? What do I tell your dad?”

  “Tell him to call me,” Tilly said, lifting her phone. “I don’t get why you’re all upset. You didn’t want me here to begin with, and now I’m going.”

  “You need someone to take care of you,” Melanie said, and in that moment, she saw Tilly as she’d been years ago—a frail little blonde girl with big blue eyes who would cry softly at night, remembering her mommy. Then there was the five-year-old with the impish grin, the ten-year-old with so much attitude, but who still liked going clothes shopping with her stepmother... Tilly—the little girl who’d stolen her heart.

  The front door opened and Simon came back in. He left the door open partway and slouched toward the kitchen.

  “Are you packed?”

  Tilly heaved a sigh, put down her bowl and headed out of the room without answering. Melanie turned to Simon, and the boy eyed her from under that shaggy hair.

  “Her father is going to be here in a few days,” Melanie said. “And you know Mr. Isaacs. If you do anything to hurt his daughter or that baby—”

  “Hurt her?” Simon winced. “I’m not going to hurt her! What is with you people?”

  “What about you not wanting her to eat?” Melanie said.

  “Whatever—I made a comment. Who cares? She’s going to eat, okay? I just don’t want her getting all fat like being pregnant is some excuse.”

  “Being pregnant is an excellent excuse!” Melanie snapped. “And her body and the weight she carries is none of your business!”

  “Kind of is,” Simon said, and he raised his voice. “Tilly, hurry up!”

  Melanie pulled a hand through her hair. She wasn’t going to be able to stop Tilly from leaving, so she needed to change tack here.

  “Simon,” she said, softening her tone. “Tilly needs support right now. So if you
two are going to leave together, then you need to be the one taking care of her. She’s nauseated from the pregnancy, she needs rest and she needs to eat. She should probably see her family doctor soon. And she really doesn’t need any added stress right now.”

  “Yeah, well you didn’t come home last night. I would know. I was here,” Simon said with a short laugh. “So I don’t see where all this worry is coming from. She’s fine.”

  What worried her was Simon’s relentless verbal badgering and emotional abuse. She’d seen it for years and tried to talk Tilly out of it for just as long. But it wasn’t just Tilly anymore—she was more vulnerable now that she was pregnant. And Simon had gone from being the jerk her stepdaughter dated to the guy who could very well stand between her and any help she might need.

  Tilly emerged from the hallway with one large bag over her shoulder, and another one balanced on top of her rolling suitcase.

  “If you need me, you call, Tilly,” Melanie said. “There’s no shame in coming home, okay?”

  “Shame?” Simon barked out a laugh. “This from the woman who did the walk of shame this morning! We aren’t ashamed of ourselves, Melanie!”

  It wasn’t exactly what Melanie had said, but obviously Simon’s mind was moving in other directions. And maybe he was worried about what his own parents would say.

  “You take care of her,” Melanie said firmly. “I’m warning you.”

  “Or what?” Simon rolled his eyes, and she sensed the dare in his gaze. He was feeling powerful right now—making adults beg. He was the father of Tilly’s child, and he seemed to have some sway over her. No, he was not going to be kind and supportive. He was going to play with his newfound power.

  “I’ll call your mother,” Melanie said curtly. It sounded stupid the minute it came out of her mouth, but two years ago that would have given the kid some pause.

  “Then you have no idea how my mother has been talking about you,” Simon laughed, taking the two bigger bags from Tilly and carrying them toward the open door. “Come on, Tilly. Let’s go.”

  “Tilly—” Melanie put her hand on the girl’s arm “—I’ll come get you if you call. Okay?”