Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book

by Tracey Alvarez

  He opened his mouth to take issue with that, but shut it again when she threw her hands up in the air and stamped one foot.

  “I took the first job that was offered. Teen mags. Once you start off in a path you’re stuck there. My only option was a related field that was willing to take a chance on me. Women’s magazines. That was it. And after three years trying, I got this crappy job. What do you think would have happened if I’d rocked up to the BBC and asked to report on Africa or the Middle East? Or called National Geographic and asked to write about a journey through South America?”

  She poked him in the chest again. He got the impression she was trying to do actual damage with her tiny finger.

  “You are such a moron. I haven't had a roommate since Maddie got married, but I do have double the rent and no place else to go if I can’t pay it. Unlike you, I don’t have family to take me in. The last time I was between houses my dad paid for a hotel room for a week for me, he said having me at home disturbed his creative rhythm and he had an exhibition coming up. I couldn’t even find my mother to see if she could help, turns out she was shacked up with the very young male lead in her latest play. So if I lose my job what do I do? Can I come stay with you?” She smacked her forehead. “Oh no, I can’t because you are house sitting for your sister and then you’ll go back to your parent’s house while you try to find yourself.”

  She stepped towards him, her fury gaining momentum with every word that came out of her mouth. Charlie took a step back, only to find the bridge blocking his retreat. He was pretty sure that the guys who disabled bombs might be able to handle her, but he was out of his depth.

  “Let me give you some advice. You’re thirty five. There is nothing to find. You are a complete person. All you have to do is take stock and move on with your life. In other words, stop acting like a teenager. Be responsible for yourself. Make some decisions and stand by them. That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve always had to do. You see, while you have had the luxury of being a teenager for most of your life, I never got the chance to be one at all. In my house I was born the adult. And here I am again. Making the hard choices, dealing with an unreasonable boss who is blackmailing me to get a story I told her I didn’t want to do and didn’t think I could get anyway. And are you helping? No. You are getting in my way.”

  She turned away from him. Charlie felt his own anger beginning to build.

  “The mess you’ve made isn’t my fault, sweet cakes. You used me to get a story. I told you that I’d talk at the end of the trip but you couldn’t wait. So you had to go manipulate things. You knew exactly what you were doing when you asked me to go swimming. You knew what you were doing when you wrote all about the hot doc as a teaser. You used me. So don’t go getting all huffy on me now.”

  “Well you used me too,” she spun back at him. “You said you wanted me when all you really wanted was any woman that came along. I was just convenient.”

  She waved her hand in the direction of the blond she’d scared away. Charlie’s eyes narrowed.

  “Damn straight I was using you. If I have to suffer your controlling, judgemental behaviour for the duration of my holiday then I figured I may as well make the best of it.”

  She looked as though she’d been slapped. Anger took over Charlie’s words.

  “And let me tell you, it wasn’t worth it, there are plenty of women who can make me feel a whole lot better than you could.”

  She reeled backwards.

  “Well why don’t you go get one?” she said.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  He stormed in the direction of the bar.

  “Fine!” Laura shouted behind him.

  He didn’t care. There was no one in the world that could make him as mad as the Iron Maiden could. He’d had enough of her. He was going to find a nice uncomplicated woman and have some fun.

  Laura could jump in the canal for all he cared.

  Laura was oblivious to the quaint crooked houses that lined the street. The sparkling canal decked out in fairy lights made no impression. She stumbled over centuries old cobble stones, marched over the old wooden bridge and through the gate that told people it was built 1682. She was running on rage.

  All she could think of, all she could hear, were his words.

  She was boring. She was cowardly. And worst of all, she was convenient.

  She kicked a stone sending it flying into the canal. It plopped before disappearing in the blackness.

  “Hey,” a voice called behind her, “it’s the air bed girl.”

  She ignored it. A second later two guys appeared, one on each side of her.

  “Remember us?” the floppy haired one said. “We helped you the night you fell asleep with your bum stuck out the tent.”

  Laura looked between the two of them, they were young, maybe late teens and they seemed harmless enough.

  “I sabotaged your boyfriend’s bike,” the one on her left said.

  “I remember you now.”

  She kept up her fast pace, propelled by rage.

  “Where are you going?” the other one asked.

  “Campsite.”

  “We’ll walk with you,” they told her.

  Laura stopped walking.

  “Look boys, I don’t need the company. I’m fine.”

  They shared a look.

  “Oh, oh, did you and your boyfriend have a fight?” the floppy haired one said.

  The other nodded.

  “Yeah we saw him at the tent earlier and he was pretty mad.”

  Laura glared at the two of them.

  “He was mad? He had no right being mad; I’m the one that has to put up with him.”

  She spun on her heels, the guys marched alongside her. She was fuming.

  “He’s just like my mother,” she told them. They nodded, clueless but attentive. “Every time he gets bored, or things get tough, he goes running off to find another woman. And that’s fine when it’s just him. But this time I’m here. And we were together. Or at least I thought we were.” She looked at the two of them aware that she was rambling and not making any sense.

  They didn’t seem bothered; in fact they seemed kind of thrilled to be included.

  “He shouldn’t be running off with other women when he’s with you,” one of them said.

  “Exactly. And what am I supposed to do? Act like my dad, pretend it isn’t happening or throw a hissy fit and then expect someone else to sort it out? I’m not that crazy. Charlie said it. I’m the sensible one. I don’t lose control.”

  One of them patted her shoulder reassuringly.

  “But I do take chances.” Her anger built with each step she took. “I’m here aren’t I? Putting up with this rubbish, trying to get a story. I was going to sleep with him. If that isn’t losing control then what is?”

  “You tell him sister,” the floppy guy said.

  “And now he’s off chasing other women. Sleeping with other women. When he said he wanted me.”

  She turned to face them at the entrance of the camp. They looked a little stunned.

  “He told me himself, he said: when you want someone you don’t run off with someone else. So what is that supposed to make me think?”

  They looked at each other then shrugged.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “That he doesn’t want you?” one ventured, looking a little confused.

  “Exactly!” They looked pleased that they had the right answer.

  She stormed through the gate.

  “He is a low life. A scum sucker. A belly crawler.”

  She confronted her two new friends.

  “I tell you one thing. There’s no way he’s bringing a girl back to his tent.”

  They nodded like it was the wisest thing she’s said. Laura’s eye began to twitch furiously. She pressed a finger to stop it and the other one started.

  “She makes me crazy,” Charlie told the girl in front of him. She patted his hand as she sipped a drink that was
multi coloured and had an umbrella. “Not just today. Oh no. This has been going on as long as I’ve known her. Today was just special.”

  The cafe bar was packed with people in their twenties; he felt a little old for the crowd, but the woman sitting with him was nice. What was her name again? He wasn’t sure.

  “She’s seriously judgemental. It’s all - what are you doing with your life? You’re wasting your talent. You’re so immature, Charlie. I’m immature? She’s the one that won’t quit a job she hates and do something with her life.”

  “Maybe she is a little scared?” the brunette offered.

  Charlie blinked. For a minute he’d forgotten she was there.

  “Cowardly. Too scared to do something that isn’t planned in detail.”

  The brunette smiled.

  “You know, maybe you balance each other out. You can take all the chances and she can keep your feet on the ground. A good team, no?”

  Charlie held up his hands.

  “No. No. No. It’s nothing like that.”

  She smiled pleasantly as the waitress stopped to take their order. Charlie bought another round, something multi-coloured for her and coffee for him.

  “See, the thing that gets to me most,” he told his new friend, “is that this whole responsibility thing isn’t even her. It’s conditioning. Her parents are nuts and she’s been the sane one all her life. Who knows what her real personality would be like if she just loosened up a bit.”

  The girl smiled sagely.

  “I’m not even mad that she used me to get pictures for her boss. I’m mad because she won’t stand up to the witch in the first place.”

  His coffee was thick and delicious.

  The wind went out of him. He looked the girl in the eye.

  “I worry about her,” he said. “She’s wound up so tight, who knows what happens when she eventually blows. Seriously, her eyes twitch, she grinds her teeth and I swear I’ve seen her bite her tongue. One of these days she’s going to go boom.”

  “Perhaps you should not push her then, if you are worried?”

  Charlie took a second to look at the girl.

  “Are you a shrink?” he said.

  “Hairdresser.”

  “Ah, that explains it.”

  He signalled for the bill.

  “I need to go check on her,” he said apologetically.

  “I understand,” the brunette smiled.

  She was really a pretty girl in her pink mini dress and platform heels. Any other day he would have loved spending time with her. But Laura was ruining his love life too. He couldn’t think straight when she was driving him so nuts.

  “Thanks for listening,” he said as he left money for the bill.

  She shrugged like it was nothing.

  “I need to go,” he pointed to the door. “The woman needs constant supervision.”

  The brunette finger waved good bye as Charlie stepped out into the warm night air.

  Laura was on a mission. He may have blackmailed her into the trip from hell. He may have teased her to the point where she humiliated herself enough to sleep with him. He may even be stringing her along with the promise of an interview. Oh yeah, he may get away with a lot of things. But he wasn’t going to have sex with some girl he picked up in the tent next to hers.

  “Listen lady,” one of the English guys said. “Why don’t you come sit with us, we can have a drink, chat a little. Wait until your boyfriend gets back.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said with a snarl.

  “No, right, absolutely.” They shared a look that telegraphed she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. “Still, how about that drink?”

  She ignored them. She was fed up being pushed around. She’d reached her limit. She didn’t give a flying fig if Charlie slept his way around the whole of Holland; she just wanted him to wait until she was far, far away from him to do it. In the meantime she would make it as hard for him as possible. She had a plan.

  “Either of you carrying cooking oil?” she said.

  They shared a look before shaking their heads.

  “There will be some in the kitchen.” One of them pointed to the small building by the entrance.

  “Matches?” Laura asked.

  “Are you cooking again?”

  They shared another gleeful grin. She was about to be camp entertainment all over again.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  The floppy one rummaged around in his backpack.

  “Here.” He thrust a box at her. “If you need help with the stove let us know. Your boyfriend, I mean the guy you’re with, wasn’t too pleased we didn’t help out last time.”

  Laura smiled. She could feel how cold and menacing it was and from the look on their faces they could see it too.

  “I won’t need any help,” she said evenly. “This, I can do all on my own.”

  Then she walked calmly, and purposely, towards the kitchen.

  Charlie saw the flashing lights before he saw anything else and picked up his speed. Years of dealing with trauma at home, and abroad, made him run to the centre of the commotion, to the centre of the campsite. Someone might need a doctor.

  Instead he found a couple of cops, a fire crew packing up their gear and a black scorched patch of ground where his tent had once been. No sign of Laura.

  “What happened?” He grabbed a cop. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “I’m sure someone else will tell you, sir,” the guy said before turning back to his notepad.

  Charlie ran his hands through his hair.

  “That was my tent,” he said.

  Now that got their attention.

  “The woman -” He almost choked on the words. “My girlfriend, is she okay?”

  “She’s fine; we’ve taken her to the hospital.” One eyebrow flicked upwards. “Apparently it was an accident.”

  Charlie had dealt with enough cops to see clearly that accident was the last thing he thought this was.

  “Unless you have something to add, we’re finished here.”

  He waited, almost hoping that Charlie was going to tell him it was an attempt on his life.

  “No, nothing. I wasn’t even here.”

  They seemed to want something more.

  “She is very accident prone.”

  The guy flicked his notebook shut, adjusted his sidearm and stared at Charlie for a minute before deciding that there was nothing he could do. He turned away. The air gushed out of Charlie. She was at the hospital. He was about to ask how bad Laura’s injuries were when two guys popped up beside him. The two English guys from earlier.

  “As we told the nice officer,” the floppy haired one said with a false smile, “we saw the whole thing and it was a complete accident. We also told him that we saw something similar almost happen in the last campsite.”

  His voice was deliberately loud and he had one eye on the cop. The cop shook his head and sauntered off. Charlie let himself be led away by the boys. Once they were out of earshot, they became hyper.

  “We couldn’t stop her,” the other one said.

  “We tried,” the floppy one said.

  “She was determined.”

  Charlie took a deep breath, let it out slowly, folded his arms over his chest and looked at the two of them.

  “First things first, is she badly hurt?”

  They shook their heads in unison.

  “Burns on her hands; she freaked when the tent went up and tried to put the fire out.”

  “And her hair.” The floppy one looked at his friend for confirmation. "She burnt her hair. We told her she didn’t need cooking oil, these things,” he motioned to a tent nearby, “will go up easy if you just hold a match to them.”

  “Highly flammable,” the other one nodded. “Whoosh!”

  He motioned the way the fire had gone with his hands.

  “Cooking oil?” Charlie shook his head to clear it. This wasn’t making sense. “She was cooking?”

  They shared a look; the fl
oppy one shook his head.

  “Uh, no. She went to the kitchen to get some to pour over your tent. Then she set it on fire.”

  “I gave her the matches.” The other boy seemed earnest. “I wouldn’t have if I had known what she planned.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Charlie looked between them. “She set the tent on fire on purpose?”

  They nodded. He rubbed his face.

  “Any idea why?”

  The non-floppy one shuffled his feet.

  “She said you were with another woman.”

  Aw, hell. His arms fell to his side.

  “And then when the blaze got so big so fast and caught the tree above it, she went bonkers. She poured her water bottle on it, then started hitting it with a towel.”

  “That’s when she burned her hands.”

  “And she kept shouting.”

  “Yeah, it was totally mad.”

  “Over and over again, the same thing.”

  Charlie held a hand up to stop them.

  “What was she shouting?” he asked with the last of his patience.

  “I am not my father.”

  They both shrugged. Charlie closed his eyes briefly. He knew exactly what that meant. Laura had gone to the one place she was terrified of going. She’d snapped. He’d broken her and it had only taken just over a week.

  “I need to go see her,” he told them.

  “Yeah.” The floppy one nodded. “And you might want to apologise for the other girl. Chicks don’t like that.”

  He gritted his teeth. Advice from teenagers. As he turned away one of them grabbed his arm.

  “Which campsite are you going to after this?” they wanted to know. “We don’t want to miss what happens next.”

  Charlie looked towards heaven before turning his back on them and heading in the direction of the local hospital.

  He found Laura sitting on the bed in a cubicle in the emergency department. Relief overwhelmed him, making him pause before he let her know he was there. Her hair was singed, her hands were bandaged and she was wearing an old pair of blue scrubs. Her shoulders were slumped in a way he’d never seen before; everything about her screamed that she was defeated. Broken. Charlie felt sick to his stomach. He had caused this. With a deep breath he pulled back the curtain. Her head snapped towards him and she flinched. Something inside of him died a little.