Mr. January: A Second Chance Romance (Calendar Boys Book 1)

by Nicole S. Goodin

  Andy shrugs. “What’s the point? I already did the time. I only looked into all of this for Dylan. She’s the only thing I lost that I wanted back.” He looks at me with such tenderness, my heart swells to twice its normal size.

  Stu glances at me “Girl, did you hear that? Be still my beating heart.” He clutches his chest dramatically and Andy laughs.

  I shake my head in amusement. “Get on with it, Stu.”

  “Right, so… other than wiping the conviction from your record, you could be entitled to a sizeable payout for the time you served. You were wrongly convicted, and that kind of thing doesn’t get taken lightly. You’re innocent, Andy.”

  “But I’m not totally innocent though,” Andy tells him in a pained voice. “No, I didn’t steal those cars, but I knew something was up and I didn’t say a word, it’s like they bought my silence. I should have spoken up or turned them away, but instead I shut my mouth and jumped at the chance to make some extra money.”

  Extra money for us, I think to myself.

  Every single cent that Andy bought home went into our home… building our life together.

  He was making good money – I was too, and we were doing well for ourselves.

  And then just like that, all the good things came to an end. Every little bit of positivity was sucked away.

  It’s like a punch to the gut every time I think about those months that followed him being taken from me.

  I used to look at it as though he’d left me – but now I know the truth – he was taken.

  That dodgy man, the law, the court system… they all took him from me.

  I feel angry. So angry, and I know there’s a chance I’m using this anger to mask my own guilt, but I don’t care.

  They took my husband from me when I needed him most.

  He might not be perfect, but no one is – myself least of all.

  There’s still things he doesn’t know – things I need to tell him. Things that are more important than overturned convictions or payouts, or who believed who.

  I need to tell him everything.

  He turns to look at me, and I notice that Stu is doing the same.

  “Whaa— what?”

  “What do you think, princess? Do you think I should let sleeping dogs lie or chase this?”

  I look between my best work mate and the love of my life.

  “Throw that asshole under the bus and take the bastards for all they’re worth.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Andy

  “You still eat popcorn like a dinosaur.” I chuckle as I watch her shovel another handful into her mouth.

  She stops long enough to flip me the middle finger before continuing.

  “It’s cute, I like it.”

  She finishes her mouthful and takes a sip of her drink.

  “You wanna know what’s not cute?” she asks as she sits down the bowl and her glass.

  I smirk at her. “I bet you’re gonna tell me.”

  “You still snore like a freight train.”

  I toss a piece of popcorn in the air and catch it in my mouth. “I don’t snore, princess,” I tell her as I chew.

  She makes a disbelieving snort noise before grabbing the remote and hitting pause on the movie we’re watching and turning her body to face mine. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.” I wink as I catch another piece.

  “I could have killed you in your sleep last night and I would have been able to plead self-defence,” she tells me, all sass and attitude.

  “How do you figure that one?” I chuckle.

  “It was assaulting my ears.” She smirks. “So, self-defence.”

  I laugh at her and she lets out a little victorious giggle before going back to shovelling her precious popcorn into her mouth.

  She turns back to the screen and hits play, settling in to watch again.

  Her red hair is piled into a messy bun on the top of her head and she looks the picture of perfection clothed in a tight white tank top and grey sweatpants.

  I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as her right now. From the freckles on her nose to the scar on her right foot – she’s flawless in my eyes.

  I’m the luckiest bastard in the history of the universe.

  “God, I love you, Dylan.”

  Her hand freezes halfway to her mouth and she slowly turns to look at me.

  “Don’t look so shocked – you know I love you, princess.”

  “I haven’t heard you say that in a really long time,” she breathes.

  “I loved you every single one of those hours we spent apart, Dylan, I loved you even when you hated me.”

  “I never hated you,” she whispers.

  I raise a brow at her.

  “I didn’t,” she insists. “I wanted to hate you – god, I really did. But I couldn’t… not completely. It’s really hard to hate someone you love, Andy.”

  Her words aren’t a surprise to me.

  I know she loves me. I’m not some idiot that can’t see what’s in front of him. She’s always loved me, and she always will – even if I were to walk out that door and never see her again, I know she’d love me until she died.

  But contrary to what I told her, her loving me isn’t the point of this week together. Her admitting that she loves me – accepting that love and embracing it – that’s what this is all about.

  I don’t even care if she admits it to me or not right now, as long as she admits it to herself then everything will be okay for us with time.

  There’s no way I’m going to let go of a woman like her without one hell of a fight.

  “I know you love me, Dylan.”

  Her eyes trace over my face as her teeth graze her bottom lip.

  She’s thinking.

  This is her fight or flight moment.

  “You’ve loved me for nearly six years, princess.” I shrug.

  “I have,” she whispers.

  “I’ve loved you since the minute you smiled at me.”

  “I know.” She smiles again – that same smile, and just like the first time, I’m totally fucking blindsided.

  I’m hit with it all again – just how hard this must have been for her out here without me.

  I would have gone crazy if she’d up and left me. I damn near went crazy as it was.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” I choke out the words.

  My emotions are threatening to overwhelm me right now, something that never happens to me.

  Dylan has never seen me cry. She’s seen me angry, but not often upset – and never enough to shed a tear.

  She crawls towards me and climbs into my lap.

  “Andy,” she whispers. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t believe you.”

  She’s got tears in her eyes that are threatening to fall, and they only make me feel worse for all I’ve put her through.

  She’s got my face clasped in her hands as she looks at me with big, hurt eyes.

  “I put that look in your eyes, Dylan, how can you even begin to forgive me?”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she tries to soothe me.

  “I left myself open for it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she repeats.

  I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her even closer to me. I tuck my face into the crook of her neck and breathe her in.

  “I’m the one who should be sorry,” she whispers. “Not you.”

  I shake my head against her skin. “No.”

  “Yes,” she argues. “What kind of wife am I? Walking away from you like that...”

  “A smart one,” I tell her as I pull back to look at her. “You saw the evidence, you know my past isn’t exactly squeaky clean – I was caught on a stolen bike for fuck’s sake… no one in their right mind would have believed my story over those facts.”

  “I should have believed you.”

  “And I should have never got myself – got us – in that situation.”

  We stare at each other for a long, long moment before she
slowly and deliberately leans in to kiss me.

  It’s not a passion-fuelled haze like it so often is with Dylan – this is something different.

  This feels like falling in love with her all over again.

  Her lips are so soft and warm and she’s inviting me in.

  I tug her closer again until there’s no space left between us, so we’re one again.

  I thought about this moment so often while I was locked up, but my imagination didn’t do it anywhere near justice.

  The smell of her, the feel of her body and mouth against mine is too good to be conjured up in the mind.

  She’s too good.

  Her lips break away from mine and she sucks in a deep breath.

  “I love you, Drew,” she whispers on her exhale. “I’m so in love with you.”

  It’s so quiet, but I hear her words.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on,” I reply huskily.

  She looks like she has something more she wants to say, but I don’t push it – she’s already said the most important thing. We can work through anything else later.

  She runs one of her hands through my hair, pushing it away from my eyes.

  “I’m saying the words, Drew.”

  “I heard them, princess.”

  I fucking heard them all the way down to my toes.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I’m saying the words.”

  She bites down on her lip nervously and that’s when I hear what she’s really saying.

  She wants me – all of me.

  She’s giving me the green light.

  “Are you sure?” I manage to choke out.

  I want to be inside her more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I have to know she’s one hundred percent ready for this.

  She nods her head. “I’m sure.”

  That’s good enough confirmation for me.

  I push to my feet in one swift movement – taking her with me as I go.

  She gasps and wraps her legs around my waist to hold on tight.

  I carry her to the bedroom, my brown eyes never leaving her green ones.

  I’m so wound up I can barely think straight, but I know enough to figure out I have to take this slow.

  There will be plenty of time for hard and fast – we’ve got the rest of our lives.

  Right now is the time for savouring and remembering. I have to learn her body all over again.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed and kiss the tip of her nose. “I love you,” I tell her, my voice raw and vulnerable.

  “I love you,” she whispers back.

  I kiss down her cheek, neck and along her collarbone.

  “How’d I get so lucky?” I murmur against her skin.

  She moans as I lightly trail my fingers up her sides, lifting her top as I go.

  She lets go of my neck as I pull it over her head.

  I take my time looking at her, recommitting every curve of her body to memory.

  “You’re so beautiful, princess.”

  A blush stains her cheeks as she reaches for the hem of my t-shirt.

  “Lift up,” she instructs softly.

  “I knew you’d decide shirts were a bad idea eventually.”

  She tugs the t-shirt over my head and grins at me. “I’ve had the self-control of a saint,” she mutters.

  Her hands roam over my chest, her fingers following the patterns of my tattoos before moving to the hard grooves of my abdomen.

  She’s barely touched me yet and I’m already so wired. She’s lighting me on fire with every stroke of her fingers.

  I hoist her up and turn her so her back lands on the bed with a soft thud.

  I reach for the waistband of her sweatpants and tug them down her golden legs.

  The woman of my dreams is right here, wearing nothing but a white lace bra and a pair of black, skimpy underwear.

  I seriously can’t believe my luck. All the bad shit I’ve done in my life, but yet I still have her.

  There must be some poor prick out there somewhere with the worst luck in the world, because I somehow managed to get a double share.

  She giggles and it’s only then that I realise I’m just hovering over her on my knees, staring.

  “Do you need another photo?” she asks coyly.

  “I don’t need a photo,” I growl. “I’ve got the real thing right here.”

  “Come and get me then.”

  I don’t need to be told twice.

  I lower my body to hers and kiss her until I’m lightheaded.

  “Drew,” she moans and it’s just like in every one of my fantasies.

  “Yeah, princess?” I ask in between placing kisses to her neck.

  “Don’t stop.”

  I chuckle. I’ve got absolutely no intention of stopping.

  I pull back so I’m on my knees again, looking down at the perfection that is my wife.

  I hook my thumbs into her underwear and drag them slowly down her legs.

  She’s writhing beneath me as I look down at her.

  That’s when I notice the mark that I’ve never seen before.

  It’s only faint, but there’s no way I would possibly miss a single thing about this woman.

  I lower myself down to get a closer look.

  It’s a tattoo, but instead of the usual black ink, this is done in white. It’s on her left side, in a spot that would normally be hidden beneath her underwear.

  It simply reads ‘Nina’.

  “Princess?” I question.

  “Mmm?” she replies as her hands comb lazily through my hair.

  “Who is Nina?”

  She freezes, her hands drop from my head and her whole body stiffens.

  I look away from the word etched into her skin and glance at her face.

  She’s terrified and I have no idea what’s wrong.

  A pained sob rips out of her mouth and she pulls her body from underneath mine and scoots up the bed, clutching her knees to her chest as she goes.

  I grab the throw blanket off the end of the bed and drape it over her – she’s physically shaking, and I’ve never been more afraid in my whole life.

  I’m too scared to even touch her right now.

  “Dylan?” I whisper when she doesn’t answer. “Who’s Nina?”

  She stares at me with so much pain, my life feels like it’s going to end.

  Tears well in her eyes as she whispers her answer, “She was our daughter.”

  I don’t know what I expected her to say, but I never would have guessed that in a million years.

  Those four words send my whole universe into a tailspin.

  “Our… our daughter?” I stutter as another realisation hits me. “Was? Princess, what do you mean was?”

  I can feel the weight of the world pushing down on my shoulders and I physically sag onto the bed to try and escape it.

  “The day you got arrested, I found out I was pregnant,” she whispers, and I can hear the pain in her voice.

  “I was waiting for you to get home so I could surprise you and we could celebrate… you never came.”

  I feel tears welling in my own eyes now and I know that they’re going to fall this time.

  This is the thing that’s going to finally break me.

  “So that’s when I came down to the garage to find you. I was so excited.”

  I remember the moment like it was yesterday. I can still picture the look of joy in her eyes until it all came crumbling down.

  “I was about eight weeks,” she carries on, her voice still a whisper.

  “And I left you,” I choke out the words.

  I know now that this is why she didn’t come to see me – why she didn’t call.

  I didn’t just leave her – I left them.

  I left my wife, pregnant and alone.

  I left her with the future of bringing up a baby on her own when I should have been there with her.

  “I know I should have told you, but I didn’t know how.”

  I s
hake my head – I don’t want her shouldering any of the blame on this one. This is all on me.

  “What happened to her?” I whisper, already knowing that the answer is going to crush me.

  “I was driving to the prison – to tell you I was pregnant.”

  Ice runs cold in my veins as I wait for the next part.

  “I wasn’t paying enough attention.” Her voice cracks as our eyes meet.

  Tears are silently running down her face and it breaks my heart.

  “There was a crash. I wound up hitting the back of the car in front of me. It wasn’t anything major, but the driver airbag deployed…”

  I nod my head in acceptance of what I already know happened.

  “I lost the baby. I was twenty-three weeks along.”

  My chest constricts as I gasp for air. I can feel the tears overflowing from my eyes as my vision blurs.

  She lost our baby because of me.

  Because I wasn’t there.

  “I didn’t protect her.” She sobs.

  I can’t speak. I want to tell her that it’s not her fault – that’s it’s yet another thing that’s on my conscience, but I can’t.

  I should have been there to protect both of my girls, but I wasn’t.

  It’s all I can think about as I stand up off the bed on shaky legs.

  I know this is going to haunt me for the rest of my days.

  I pick up my shirt off the floor and walk out the door. I don’t know where I’m going but I do know I can’t be here right now. I can’t watch her heart breaking all over again because of me.

  I need air.

  I spent three years in a box and right now I need to breathe.

  I almost run out to the living room and I’m about to swing open the door when the stack of papers on the table catches my eye.

  I know now why she needed me to sign – why she didn’t want to call herself my wife for a minute longer.

  I can’t blame her for that. She deserves so much more than a man like me.

  I grab the pen and scrawl my signature on the dotted lines.

  She wanted a clean break and like the asshole I am, I didn’t give it to her.

  I forced my way back into her life and her heart and now she’s broken all over again because of it.

  “I’m so sorry, Dylan, I love you,” I whisper as I slip out the door.