Second Chance (Lake Placid Series Book 1)

by Natalie Ann

  “Nick,” she said through a groan. “I really missed you, so could you hurry up and play a little faster?”

  He couldn’t laugh even if he wanted to. He was feeling the same way at the moment.

  The way she said his name, the way her nails were biting into his shoulders and she was wiggling on his lap. All of it together was mixing for one hell of an experience and he was still fully dressed.

  He slid her off his lap and said, roughly, “Take care of your jeans.”

  Pulling his shirt off, he threw it across the room, then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, yanking them down, fast and furious, then kicking them away. Suddenly he remembered the condom and bent over to get it out of his pocket, only to turn and see Mallory standing there completely naked, her hand on her hip and her eyes drilling into his.

  “You’re awfully slow today. Guess I’m a bit more worked up than you.”

  No way, not possible. “Don’t count on it,” he said.

  He kicked off the rest of his clothes, then pulled her over to the couch, sat down and adjusted her around his hips, but she slid off and got on her knees in front of him.

  He held his breath while her hands reached for him, her fingertips gliding up and down ever so lightly. Featherlike, and doing a hell of a job sending him to a place where he’d dreamed of her for so long.

  “I haven’t had a chance to really get acquainted with your body. Maybe now is the time.”

  “I thought you said you were in a hurry.”

  He wasn’t sure why he’d said that, why he would even consider saying anything to talk her out of the path she was moving toward.

  “Maybe I’m just in a hurry to get my hands on you,” she said, gripping him tighter, squeezing, then leaning down and bringing the tip of her tongue into play. Tasting him softly, teasing him mercilessly, and sending him to a point where he’d thought he’d beg.

  But he didn’t have to, because she knew what he needed and what he wanted, and she didn’t disappoint as he let out a long groan and saw stars in front of his eyes.

  Moments later he felt the condom being taken out of his hand. He hadn’t even realized he was still gripping it. He wasn’t aware of too much at the moment. Nothing more than she was sliding up his body again and touching his ribs, then his chest and straddling his hips.

  “I thought maybe I’d have to play with you a bit more before I got my turn, but I guess not really.”

  He felt completely drained. Even though his mind might not be working, he figured out pretty fast what she was talking about when he felt her hands around him again, stroking and touching, getting him ready, then sliding the condom on. “It’s you. Only you.”

  “I feel the same way,” she whispered and until that second he hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. There was no taking it back, even if he wanted to, and he didn’t.

  She slid up and lowered herself down on him, then stayed there squeezing him tight, surrounding him with her warmth and wetness, making it by far the best homecoming he’d ever had. But she wasn’t done, it wasn’t over, she hadn’t even started to move or go to work again.

  Gripping his hands, she placed them on her breasts, and said, “I like when you touch me. I like how you make me feel, that you know just what to do and how much of it to get me there.”

  His brain started to function again and he did what he always did with her. He felt, and his feelings for her controlled his movements.

  He became one with her, and he urged her on until she found a pace she liked, one she controlled and soon had them both rocketing to the moon and stars above the lake.

  “No problem. I’m sure Mallory was happy to see you,” his grandmother said, a knowing smirk on her face, snapping him out of musing over being with Mallory yesterday while he tried hard to fight the blush that wanted to creep up his face. He wasn’t having the purist of thoughts about Mallory in his grandmother’s presence just now. Frankly, it was slightly embarrassing what he was remembering at the moment.

  “She told me you two talked,” he said, walking over to the coffee pot and grabbing a mug.

  “We did.”

  He heard the laughter in her voice and started to understand what Mallory was so uncomfortable about.

  “She’s worried that her relationship with me might somehow affect her relationship with you.”

  “Poppycock.”

  “Really, Grandma? I haven’t heard that word since I was a kid.”

  “Sit down and let me make you some breakfast. And I’ll say any word I want.”

  He did as he was told, even though he felt bad she was cooking for him. He’d come to realize she would just order him in the chair anyway, so why bother to argue. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t you ma’am me,” she said back, just like he expected her to. She started to pull a pan out and some eggs, so he leaned back in his chair to enjoy his coffee. “How are your parents doing?”

  “Since you talk to Mom daily, I’m sure you know everything there is to know,” he said, grinning.

  “Did your mother tell you I was calling daily?”

  “No, just a lucky guess. You guys need to stop worrying about me. I’m fine.”

  She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “I’m not worried anymore. I don’t think your mom is either, if you must know.”

  “Then why call every day? Did you think I’d tell them about Mallory?”

  His grandmother was the last person he expected to doubt him.

  “Not at all.”

  She was quiet and went back to finishing his eggs, then placed the dish in front of him and sat down.

  “So why do you look like there’s something you want to ask me?” His grandmother never hedged over anything.

  “Your mother told me you talked to Kendra and that she is no longer at NB Innovations.”

  He started to dig into his eggs. “No, she’s not.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  No one had asked him how he felt about everything so far. Just how he was doing or how the meeting went, but not how he actually felt about the whole situation. Leave it to his grandmother to get to the heart of the matter. “Relieved.”

  “You look it. It’s time to start living like you used to, Nick.”

  “How’s that?” he asked after pushing his plate away and picking up his mug for a drink.

  “Relaxed. Determined. Confident. Aware.”

  “I’ve always been determined and confident.”

  “That’s true, but you haven’t been relaxed in a long time, though I think you are finally seeing things you should have seen all along. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, you are.” He waited a second and weighed his words. There was no use denying her awareness comment. She was right on both accounts. “So you know about Paul then?”

  “That he’s sick, yes. I knew shortly after it happened. Why?”

  “Did you tell Mallory? She hasn’t asked about him, yet she asked about everyone else.”

  He thought it was strange and knew his grandmother was the only person he could talk to about this.

  “No. We don’t talk about her family at all. Nothing really about her past, if you must know.”

  “But you talked to her about me and the rest of the family,” he pointed out.

  “From time to time, yes. But we put her past behind her. She’d never been in a place to talk about it. I don’t think she’ll want to talk about Paul. At least not yet.”

  “Does she blame him for her mother’s death?”

  “You’d have to ask her that,” his grandmother said, then abruptly stood up and picked his plate up. He couldn’t ask her though, not with his grandmother confirming his suspicions that Mallory most likely didn’t want to talk about it.

  “They’re calling hospice in.”

  She turned sharply. “What? Your mother didn’t tell me that. Then again, your mother doesn’t talk about Paul much either.”

  “Dad told me that she never liked Pa
ul. That she thinks he’s greedy and manipulative. I sensed some tension between them talking about it. Last night I went to Mallory’s old house to help Dad bring some things over to store in the garage. Dad said Paul asked him a week ago.”

  “What was your mother’s reaction to that?”

  “She doesn’t know. At least I don’t think so. We did it when she left and he said not to mention anything. Why? I thought it was nice that he was hoping someone held some things for Mallory.”

  “It was hard for you to not say anything, wasn’t it?”

  “Extremely.”

  Maybe Paul was having regrets with his life coming to an end, but Nick had made a promise and he wouldn’t break it. Instead, his father and he picked up the four boxes and brought them home and stored them away.

  “What did he give you to keep for Mallory?”

  “I don’t know. It was just four sealed boxes. He said it was things of Mindy’s that he thought Mallory wouldn’t mind having some day. I feel like I should say something to her, but I don’t want to make her feel bad either. She asked about everyone else. She knows I had dinner at my parents’ too. But Paul’s name never came up. Nothing at all.”

  His grandmother shrugged and went back to washing dishes. “I’ve learned there are some things not worth broaching with Mallory. She’ll talk when she’s ready to talk. If she is ever ready to talk.”

  “But you know everything, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say I know everything, but I know more than anyone else.”

  And he had a feeling it was more than he’d ever be privy to.

  So Bad after All

  Mallory felt her nose itch and twitch, then her throat tighten. She blinked her eyes open and looked around the dark room, deciding she needed a drink of water. Must be the cool night air from her window causing the reaction.

  Her bare feet hit the floor, and she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Once she’d drained her glass of water, she placed it in the sink and started to walk back to her room.

  Only she heard voices—whispered voices. Turning away from the stairs, she walked toward her mother’s room and peered through the cracked door.

  “Mindy,” her stepfather, Paul, said, “why are you torturing yourself this way?”

  “I can’t do it anymore. I hate feeling like this.”

  The tears were running down her mother’s face, the pain visible, both physically and mentally. Mallory had seen enough of it in the last few years. More than any teenager should ever have to witness.

  “Then take something. It will help you sleep,” Paul said softly, encouraging her mother.

  Mallory felt the bile rise in her throat. Her mother had been talking about going into rehab. She’d confided to Mallory that she wanted to be the person she used to be before the accident. That she hated being dependent on the pain meds and she hated that she was losing Mallory in the process.

  Not that Mallory ever said a word to her mother about it, but her mother had sensed Mallory withdrawing.

  Her mother had told her that Paul was on board with the rehab. That he would pay anything to make her well again. So then why was he telling her to take something?

  “I don’t want to. It’s been three days since I’ve had anything.”

  Her mother lifted her chin higher, trying to put a strong front on and showing a glimmer of the confident woman that she used to be. The fun carefree woman who could talk a saint into buying something just by adding a tilt of her head and her warm smile. The woman who was always there for Mallory, strong and poised, who could conquer the world if she needed to with a pep in her step. Now she was just a shell of a broken soul.

  Her mother’s comment about three days off the meds would explain the mood changes recently. Mallory had had no clue her mother was trying to stop on her own. And that glimmer of a strong woman from the past sparked to life in Mallory’s heart.

  Though Mallory had never seen someone going through withdrawal before, she’d read up on it. She read up on anything she could to help her mother, to try to understand what was going on with her.

  “One pill won’t make a difference.” Paul walked over to her mother and ran his hand over her sweat-dampened hair, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I hate to see you in pain. Please, let me go get you something to help.”

  “I need to do this, Paul,” her mother said with a sob and a hiccup. “I want to try to do it on my own. I don’t want to leave Mallory alone again. I don’t want her to be by herself while I’m in rehab. I know I can do it; I just need to get through the first week. Besides, I don’t want you to have to juggle funds for it. I’ve thought it over and you shouldn’t have to pay for it. Just let me talk to Susan again about the money.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said quickly. “Mallory will be fine here. I’ll take care of her. She’ll want what is best for you, you know that.”

  As much as she would hate that her mother might have to go away for a period of time, she could handle it, if it was best. It’d really be no different than when her mother was healing from the accident two years ago.

  Mentally, her mother hadn’t been present then, and even less so in the last year.

  “You’re trying and that’s all that matters,” Paul said, rubbing her mother’s shoulder again. “Maybe a little bit of alcohol will help relax you. How about a small glass of wine and a few aspirin? That isn’t so bad, is it?”

  “I guess not. A small glass of wine, though. And two aspirin. That should help. That’s all I’m willing to take right now.”

  Mallory jumped back and hid behind the wall when Paul turned to leave the room to get the wine for her mother. But rather than go back to her room, she stayed there in the shadows and waited. She wanted to see if her mother did feel better afterward. If that tiny glass of wine managed to take the edge off and help her sleep.

  When Paul walked back into the room, shutting the door partially again, Mallory leaned forward and watched him walk over to the dresser with all of her mother’s pills on it. His hand reached for the aspirin, she saw, then hesitated, and instead grabbed a prescription bottle.

  He walked to her mother, handed her the glass and said, “Take a sip first. Now here you go, swallow them fast.”

  Her mother did as told. Swallowed the two pills without even looking at them, then smiled at Paul. “Thank you for understanding. And thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Paul leaned forward and kissed her mother on the lips. “I’d do anything for you. You’ve always been the love of my life and I want to keep you happy. Maybe when you’re feeling a bit better we can go over those papers I brought home last week. I just need a few signatures.”

  “Shouldn’t Susan look them over for me?”

  “There’s no need, Mindy. I explained it all before I drew it up. You don’t need your lawyer for it.”

  “I guess. I trust you. It’s just a bit over my head. I can sign them now,” her mother said smiling at Paul. “You take such good care of Mallory and me.”

  Mallory sat up in bed, gasping for air, the pressure in her chest squeezing her like nothing before while the tears ran down her cheeks. She hadn’t dreamed about her mother or Paul in years, and she was glad about that.

  She knew Nick talking about his trip back home and seeing his family again yesterday triggered the memory. She’d expected the dreams long before now since Nick appeared, but it hadn’t happened.

  She’d hoped she’d never have those flashbacks, dreams or memories again, but she never got that wish.

  Every time she felt herself relax and think it was behind her, something would trigger it. Something would bring it all back front and center and remind her of why she’d had to run. Why she couldn’t stay.

  If only that was the worst of her memories. Or the worst of the things she’d seen, heard, or experienced, she might have been able to stay, but it wasn’t. So much more had happened the year before she left. More
than she ever wanted another person to know.

  And though she felt like she wanted to tell Nick why she left, part of her knew she’d never be able to be completely honest about it.

  ***

  Two hours later, Mallory was still staring at the ceiling.

  Finally, she reached for the bedside light, then grabbed her laptop. She always left it next to her bed, as oftentimes she woke up inspired to write. Right now was no different.

  At first she’d lay back down after her dream and tried to go back to sleep, but it didn’t matter, nothing was settling her mind. Instead she let her mind drift toward her new book, the new mystery that she’d made so much progress on when Nick was gone.

  But now she was realizing there was more she could add to it. Another layer of mystery, a teaser possibly.

  Her thoughts were racing, so she started to type and didn’t stop until there was nothing else to be said. Nothing else that crossed her mind.

  That nightmare had fueled something in her, something good for a change. She’d never experienced that before, but this time she was going to go with it. It was almost cathartic when she was done.

  She saved her work, covered her mouth with her hand when she yawned and turned to shut her light off, only to realize the sun was now shining through her window.

  Rather than get up and close the blinds, she pulled her comforter over her head and started to drift off to sleep until she heard her phone ding. Just a text, she’d ignore it for now.

  Only it went off again. Then again, and then once more. What the heck? Who could be texting her so much, and so rapidly.

  Throwing the covers back, she reached for her phone and saw multiple messages on her screen from Nick.

  She blinked a few times to clear her eyes and even her brain, trying to process what she was seeing. The first message read, Good morning, beautiful.

  After that there were several small pictures of smiley faces, then flowers, a kayak and finally what looked to be a bowl of cereal.

  He was just too ridiculous at times. As much as she wanted to ignore him right now and get some much-needed sleep, the smile on her face was almost as bright as the sun shining through her window. She texted back quickly. Going to sleep now.