Lori was waiting for them when they arrived at the inn.
“Julianne is getting hyper about the refreshments. Would you mind driving the van up to the mansion and dropping the food off?” Lori asked. “I can supervise the dinner.”
Ginger watched as Kyle greeted Cassidy on the veranda, sheepishly handing her a corsage.
“Wait!” Lori shrieked. “I have to take pictures of that or Patricia will kill me.” She bolted up the steps as Ginger slid behind the wheel of the van and headed up to Dresden House.
For a woman who was seven months pregnant, Julianne Connelly still moved like a whirling dervish throughout the large ballroom. Her hair was piled artfully on her head and her black jersey dress clung to her stunning curves. She moved around the mansion in silver-studded flip-flops.
“I know,” she said with a grin when she saw Ginger eyeing her feet. “But high heels and pregnancy don’t mix. Will!” She waved down her husband, who immediately took the tray of cupcakes out of Ginger’s hands. “You don’t need to carry that food in, Ginger. You’ll mess up your dress.” She reached up to arrange Ginger’s hair. “You look so beautiful.”
“I don’t think anyone really cares how the chaperones look tonight.” But Ginger smiled at her anyway, allowing herself to relax and feel happy for the first time this week.
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Julianne clapped her hands together. “I left my makeup bag in the big room upstairs. You know, the room with all the windows. Would you mind running up there and grabbing it for me? We both could use some lip gloss.”
Julianne dashed off toward the kitchen area before Ginger could protest. She really wanted to head back to the inn to snap a few pictures of Cassidy and Kyle on her own. It would take only a minute to grab the makeup bag, though. She trudged up the stairs, crawling through a rope barricade that had been put up presumably to keep the prom revelers from heading upstairs. Her steps slowed as she neared the closed doors of the music room, and memories—both happy and sad—assaulted her. The ghost of Gavin likely lingered in the room, but if she was ever going to put the pieces of her heart together, she’d need to exorcise him eventually. Sighing heavily, she opened the door.
Her heart hiccupped in her chest at the sight that awaited her. A small table set for two complete with candles, wine goblets and a plate of Lori’s cupcakes. Most stunning of all, a ghost of Gavin wasn’t lingering in the room. Instead he was there in the flesh, looking sexy as hell in one of his urbane business suits.
“Gavin.” She wasn’t sure how she found the breath to even say his name, seeing as she was struggling to get air through her lungs.
“That’s a relief to know you haven’t forgotten me already.” He tried to wow her with one of his potent smiles, but the wariness in his eyes lessened its effect. Had he actually thought she could forget him?
“What—what are you doing back here?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I came back to pick up some things I left behind.”
Of course. Midas, his dog. And he’d likely be coming back frequently to see his mother. How had she not considered that he’d return to Chances Inlet so soon? She staggered to the table and grabbed hold of the back of one of the chairs. Could her heart handle the strain of him popping up unexpectedly?
As if he sensed her unease, Gavin was beside her immediately, his closeness making her skin tingle. “I came back for you, Ginger,” he whispered. “If I’m going to have my second chance, I want it to be with you.”
He wrapped her in his arms just as her knees began to buckle. Her insides began to shimmer with desire at the feel of his strong body wrapped around her once again.
“I was so caught up in getting my life back to what it was that I didn’t realize those things might not make me as happy as they once did. As happy as you do.” His voice was husky against her ear and Ginger arched her body closer to his, draping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want this to be over. And I’ve been praying that you’ll give me that second chance.”
He unwrapped his arms from her and cupped her face. Ginger’s breath caught at the raw passion she saw in his eyes. “You’ve made everyone in this town fall in love with you these past few months, but no one more than me. Hell, I think you stole my heart that first day we met. I was just too intent on achieving my goals that I almost let the greatest thing in my life slip away. I’m sorry that I hurt you. If I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Can it be my turn?”
His dimples peeked out when he nodded, and she had to reclaim her scattered wits at the sight of them.
“Since this is the home of second chances, there never was a question about whether or not I’d give you one. But mostly because I love you, Gavin.” She swallowed as the tears gathered behind her eyes. “And if you want to live in New York City, then that’s where I want to be.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “About that. I’ve decided to base my firm here in Chances Inlet. We can travel to New York a couple of times a month if we have to. But our home will be here. If that’s okay with you.”
Joy began to unfurl deep in her belly, warming her body and making her limbs tingle. “Are you sure? I thought you disliked living here? You love the anonymity of New York.”
Gavin wrapped his hands around her waist. “Mmm.” He nuzzled her neck. “Somehow it seems a lot different living here with you around. Besides, I’ve gotten used to having everyone know my business. In New York, I have to wait in line for my coffee, and instead of getting a kiss from Lois all I got was a phone number the barista had written on my cup.”
Jealousy bit at Ginger before she heard him chuckle in her ear. He leaned back to study her face. “You’re all I need, Ginger. Wherever we are.” Gavin finally touched his lips to hers, taking his time, keeping the kiss slow and sensual, letting her know they had not only tonight, but a lifetime together.
Ginger became impatient, however, her tongue tangling with his as the kiss grew more heated. The bass of the music from the DJ below them rattled the room. Gavin groaned as his lips traveled along her neck. “So much for Julianne’s idea of a romantic dinner. It’ll be hard to find some quiet up here.”
“Julianne planned this?”
“The dinner was my idea. I had Lori make all your favorite things.”
She sighed as his teeth grazed her ear.
“The cupcakes are a nice appetizer by the way,” he whispered.
Ginger socked him in the arm and Gavin laughed, the familiar sound of it making parts of her throb.
“We can work those off later,” he promised.
“Actually, we can work them off right now.”
His head shot up and his eyes glazed over. “With sixty people downstairs?”
“Among the sixty people downstairs.” She dragged a finger along his jaw while she gave him what she hoped was her most alluring smile.
Gavin closed his eyes and swore softly. “We’re going to have to go to the prom, aren’t we?”
“Worse, I might even make you dance with me.”
He slowly opened his eyes and the love she saw shining in them brought tears to her own. Gavin kissed the tip of her nose. “I will be happy to dance with you, Ginger. In fact, I want to keep dancing with you until we can’t dance any longer.”
Ginger swayed toward him, her lips catching the corner of his mouth. “Fortunately for you, the prom doesn’t start for another hour.”
She kissed him then, sealing their second chance at happiness.
EPILOGUE
“Seriously, Mrs. Mac, you need to get Snapchat or Instagram. That way, you would’ve seen all the best parts of last night’s prom without leaving the comfort of that ugly green recliner,” Cassidy said as she rapidly slid her finger over the screen of her cell phone, searching for pictures.
Patricia shifted gingerly in the wide leather chair, wincing at the pain in her hip. She’d been moved into the sunny corner room at the r
ehabilitation center earlier that morning and all the jostling of her body had caused the searing ache in her hip and leg to begin again. But she didn’t dare ask the nurse for any additional pain meds, not when she’d just come out from the fog of all the medicines they’d had her on at the hospital. Besides, she’d been waiting all day to hear Cassidy’s tales from the prom.
“Oooh,” the teenager squealed. “Here it is. And it’s been retweeted over ten thousand times!”
Cassidy handed her the cell phone. On the screen was a photo of Gavin with his arms wrapped around a smiling Ginger. Based upon the looks they were exchanging with each other, her son had finally found what he’d been looking for these past few years. Patricia’s throat grew tight with happiness and perhaps a little bit of relief that Gavin would still be here in Chances Inlet, even if only part-time.
Her eyes drifted to the tweet beneath the photo. “Destiny Upchurch nails America’s favorite hot contractor,” she choked out with a laugh. “Cassidy! How could you tweet that out?”
Cassidy slapped her jean-clad thigh and half laughed, half snorted. “It’s because they both were being so cheesy and lovey-dovey on the dance floor. The two of them were acting as if it was their prom. Or wedding. They were just too . . . cute. I had to ping them somehow.”
But the normally jealous teenager was fighting back a smile and her eyes twinkled with what looked to Patricia like admiration. In fact, Cassidy was actually more relaxed and carefree than she’d ever been; the small piercing in her nostril the only reminder of her darker, angsty Goth days. It seemed Gavin and Ginger weren’t the only ones getting a second chance. Cassidy had grown into a self-assured young woman these past few months, and Patricia was proud of playing a small part in her transformation.
“Well, try not to craft such salacious tweets and posts when you’re handling the inn’s social media this summer,” Patricia said.
Cassidy sat up straighter, her eyes growing wide. “Seriously? You’re finally going to let me take over the marketing?”
“Some of the marketing,” Patricia clarified. “The rest of the time you’ll be in charge of the Patty Wagon. Miles has agreed to help out with the inn for the next three months, but I doubt he’ll have the time or inclination to keep up with the social media campaigns. But I’ll be monitoring everything you post.” She eyed Cassidy carefully.
“I would never let you down.”
“Of course you won’t.” Patricia gave Cassidy a reassuring smile. Truth be told it was more likely that Miles would be the one to let her down. Her eldest son had been stomping around the hospital all week demanding that Patricia allow him to send Lori packing and hire a consultant from Asheville to run the B and B while she recuperated. Miles had been very disappointed when she’d refused his suggestion and told him in no uncertain terms that Lori was in charge of the day-to-day operations of the inn. His only role was to schmooze with the guests, making it the perfect summer job for a congressional candidate.
Frankly, Patricia was surprised—not to mention greatly relieved—that Lori hadn’t already abandoned ship by sneaking off into the night. The woman was a brilliant chef and sommelier whose presence in the inn’s kitchen kept the B and B rated one of the best in the state. But she was also hiding something—or from something—and Patricia wasn’t about to force her out of Chances Inlet before Lori got her second chance, no matter how much Miles wanted her gone. Fireworks were definitely going to fly between those two this summer; Patricia only hoped there wouldn’t be any more collateral damage.
“Speaking of not being let down,” Patricia said as she scanned the prom pictures on Cassidy’s phone. “I hope you weren’t too disappointed at not being selected prom queen.” Once Lamar had gotten wind of the juvenile plan the senior boys had concocted, he and the principal had put a prompt end to it.
“Everyone was shocked when Principal Dickerson made us all cast our votes again once we got to the dance,” Cassidy grumbled.
“Kathy Sufcak did make a beautiful queen, though.” Patricia glanced at the photo of the prom king and queen.
“Yeah, yeah.” Cassidy dragged the toe of her boot along the line in the tile floor. “I guess if it had to be someone else besides me, she was the best choice. She was nice to me once during middle school P.E. class. The other girls had stolen my shorts so I had nothing to change into. Kathy actually loaned me a pair of hers. I never knew why a cool girl would help me out, but after that, the other girls pretty much left me alone.” Cassidy shrugged. “And she is really pretty.”
“Not as beautiful as you are, Cassidy,” Gavin said with a wink as he and Ginger entered the room, Midas leading the way.
“Gavin! I don’t think they allow dogs in here.” Patricia reached for Midas’ head anyway, burying her fingers behind his silky ears.
Gavin leaned down to kiss Patricia’s cheek. “Actually, they allow therapy dogs in all the time.”
Patricia scoffed at him. “This dog barely passed obedience school. There’s no way he can pass as a trained therapy dog.”
Ginger snickered as she sat down on the bed next to Cassidy.
“Shh, Mom, you’ll hurt his feelings. Allison Baker is working the front desk and she never once questioned Midas’ qualifications.”
“Actually, Gavin,” Ginger chimed in. “I don’t think she noticed you even had a dog with you. She was too mesmerized by your smile.”
Gavin turned and gazed at Ginger with a look so full of love it stole Patricia’s breath right from her lungs.
“I can’t help but smile like that when you’re next to me,” he murmured to Ginger as if they were alone in the room.
“Gak!” Cassidy wrapped her hands around her throat and pretended to choke. “See what I mean about the lovey-dovey crap?”
Patricia eventually found her breath. “I for one am happy to see them acting this way, Cassidy. It means they’ve finally come to their senses. Does this mean you two are planning a future together?” She crossed her fingers as she asked the question.
Ginger smiled demurely up at Gavin. “Actually, Patricia, we’ve both spent so much of the past few years planning a little too much. We’ve decided to not chase things that don’t exist anymore, but to just live in the moment and see where this takes us.” She reached out and twined her fingers through Gavin’s.
“As long as we’re together at the end of the journey, that plan works for me.” Gavin’s voice was a little husky as he spoke the words, and Patricia felt her throat grow tight again.
“Is this a private party? Or do I have to write up a citation for having an unauthorized canine in the room?”
The sound of Lamar’s voice made her insides quiver. Patricia turned toward the doorway to see her fiancé standing there sheepishly, his campaign hat in one hand, a bouquet of gerbera daisies in the other. Their eyes met and on his face was the very same expression that Gavin had just pinned Ginger with. She smiled, and the pain in her hip faded a little as happiness bubbled inside her. They were going to get their second chance. All of them.
Turn the page for a peek at
FOOLISH GAMES
by Tracy Solheim
Available now from Berkley Sensation!
ONE
Paternity.
The word reverberated inside Will Connelly’s head, pummeling his temples until they began to throb. He clenched his jaw firmly in place, at the same time willing his knuckles to release their death grip on the leather chair. It was an effort to appear unfazed despite the fact the supposed purpose of the meeting had taken a 180-degree turn. If ever there was a time for Will to put on his game face, this was it.
The U.S. senator sitting across the conference table was sadly mistaken if he thought he was a match for Will’s trademark inscrutable stare. There was a reason he was known as William the Conqueror throughout the NFL: Will Connelly tore through offenses relentlessly, all the while wearing a stoic expression that caused many an opponent to declare that the Pro Bowl linebacker had ice water running throu
gh his veins.
The men seated on either side of him, however, weren’t as practiced at remaining cool. Both shifted uneasily in their chairs.
“Come again?” Roscoe Mathis, Will’s agent, wasn’t one to sit patiently while someone railroaded his client.
The senator’s smug grin didn’t waver, his gaze fixed on Will. “I said that Mr. Connelly might want to rethink his position as the national spokesman against deadbeat dads. He’s been named the father in a rather . . . extraordinary paternity request.”
“Now just wait one minute, Senator,” said Hank Osbourne, the general manager for the Baltimore Blaze and Will’s other companion. Hank was often referred to as the Wizard of Oz around the league because of his ability to quickly turn a team into a contender; his demeanor was normally as cool as Will’s. But his tone implied his temper was on a short leash today. “You march us up to Capitol Hill, supposedly to ask questions about an alleged bounty scheme your committee is wasting taxpayer dollars investigating, and then you accuse my player with some cockamamie paternity suit? What kind of game are you playing here?”
The senator lunged forward in his seat. “Correction, Mr. Osbourne. I didn’t invite you or Mr. Mathis here for this meeting. This business involves a personal matter between him”—he shot a finger at Will—“and me.”
“Your summons was rather vague,” Roscoe said. “We assumed it involved this witch hunt into Coach Zevalos’s career.”
Will’s body tensed at the mention of Paul Zevalos, his former coach at Yale. After college, the coach took a defensive coordinator position in the NFL, bringing Will along as an undrafted rookie. Without Zevalos championing him, Will might never have seen a professional gridiron, much less become one of the league’s most elite players. And now the world expected him to turn on his former coach.
Like hell he would.
Senator Stephen Marchione sank back into his padded leather chair. Somewhere near forty years old, the well-respected politician likely didn’t have a daughter old enough to interest Will. And married women were off-limits in his book. Will relaxed slightly, confident that a mistake had been made. Extremely careful in his personal life and monogamous with the women he dated, he took precautions to prevent children. He had to. No child should be subjected to the childhood he’d endured.
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