by Mari Carr
Third mistake’s a charm.
Second Chances, Book 6
Georgie Russell has always been a full-steam-ahead, spur-of-the-moment, no-looking-back kind of girl. But as midnight on New Year’s Eve rolls around with her friends coming up with wine-induced, second-chance goals, all eyes turn to her.
They all know her “runaway bride” history. Three exes attest to her aversion to vows of any kind. Maybe it’s time she tried to make amends…especially to ex-fiancé number three. The one she literally left at the altar—Nick Hammel.
Nick has spent the better part of a year working overtime to get over Georgie. As a divorce attorney surrounded by broken marriages day in and day out, he figures she did him a favor.
But when they wind up at the same bar one night, he realizes he hasn’t moved on at all. All it takes is the feel of her arms around him and his heart is ready to jump out of the lonely frying pan to get close to her fire…even if it means risking another serious burn.
Warning: Contains a free-spirited florist who knows a thing or two about sowing wild oats, and a jaded divorce lawyer who thinks it might be worth risking a few thorns to stop and smell her roses. Best accompanied by a glass of wine or (and) a couple of lemon drop shots.
Say Something
Mari Carr
Dedication
To my wine girls. You know who you are. For all the laughter at inappropriate moments, the secrets told and kept, and the advice that is—more often than not—spot on. My life is better because I call you my friends.
Prologue
Georgie Russell picked up a couple of paper plates and threw them away. Another New Year’s Eve was winding down. While she had enjoyed this one—grateful to spend it with her friends—it also made her sort of sad.
Not just for herself, but for her girlfriends. She was in a house surrounded by some of the most wonderful people she’d ever known and yet it felt like all of them were swimming in a sea of loneliness and regrets.
Then Zoey had suggested they come up with resolutions, and while Georgie thought that was fine for her friends, she was a little bit worried about that vow to turn over a new leaf working for her. She’d always sucked at committing to something in January that might mean squat to her by September. She was more comfortable as a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of gal.
But hopefully that would change. It needed to change. Because this year she knew what she wanted now would be the same thing she wanted in September. And the September after that. And…
Georgie grinned as she recalled how much fun they’d had this evening. Damn, she was blessed with great girlfriends and she definitely saw the value of this idea for the other women. Over the course of the night, she’d seen a spark of hope emerge in all their faces. Georgie had to hand it to Zoey. She’d found the perfect way to keep everyone’s spirits up considering they were six single women facing yet another year alone. Georgie suspected none of them had been particularly happy about the fact they had no plans for New Year’s, even though they pretended otherwise.
Kristen came into the kitchen and bumped Georgie’s hip in a friendly manner. “What’s up with you? Wine usually makes you chattier as the night rolls on, not quieter.”
Georgie shrugged, trying to shake off her uncharacteristic lethargy. The girls counted on her to bring them up, but tonight she was too distracted. “I’m cool.”
Kristen crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, blocking the exit. “Tell me more about this resolution of yours.”
Georgie winced. “I thought we agreed they weren’t resolutions. I can’t do anything that even remotely resembles taking a vow.”
Kristen snorted, then quickly tried to hide her response with her hand.
Georgie rolled her eyes. “You can laugh, smartass. It’s not like we’re not all aware that Georgie left three guys standing at the altar. I’m in serious contention for Runaway Bride of the Century.”
She expected Kristen to laugh again, but her friend’s face sobered up instead. “I have to admit I’ve always been curious about this. Your trips to the chapel of love all happened before we were friends. Were the grooms actually standing at the altar when you took off?”
Georgie shrugged. “I guess. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Depends on what you consider an altar. If you’re talking about in a church, then just the last one was left standing at an actual altar. Nick.” As she spoke his name, she felt a pang of regret, an ache in her chest and a hell of a lot of guilt. Those feelings had taken up permanent residence there in the year since she and Nick had been apart.
Kristen blew out a long breath. “Yeah. His is the only story I’m vaguely familiar with.”
Georgie wasn’t surprised to hear that. First of all, Kristen was a lawyer and secondly, her partner, Jason, was best friends with Nick. It was Jason who had been standing beside her ex-fiancé when Nick got the word she’d sprinted away from the church, barefoot in her wedding dress.
“With the other guys, they weren’t exactly church weddings.”
“Ah.” Kristen gave her a sympathetic grin. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll actually get to the part where they say ‘Is there anyone here who objects?’ next time.”
Georgie laughed, perfectly aware of where Kristen was going with her joke. “Yeah. I can see it now. I’ll raise my hand, say ‘me!’ and then make the fifty-yard dash to the door.”
They giggled as Kristen grabbed the last bottle of wine on the counter. It was nearly midnight and they’d consumed way too much already. They’d be lucky to finish the last one.
“Laura told me to open this, but my head is spinning a bit,” Kristen confessed.
“Mine too, but we’ve come this far. Can’t leave a man down. It’s a new year and that would be a bad precedent. Open it.”
“I will never get used to your twisted logic.” Kristen picked up the corkscrew and tackled the bottle. Mercifully, her attention was focused on that and not Georgie’s face when she repeated her original question.
“By the way, nice dodge, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Tell me about the reason for this second-chance goal, Georgie. I’m afraid it doesn’t make sense to me.”
Georgie wished there was some way to get out of the room, but the kitchen in the townhouse was tiny and Kristen was still blocking the better half of the doorway.
“Seems pretty self-explanatory to me.”
Actually it didn’t and Georgie knew it. It was an insane goal that made zero sense, but she’d latched onto it because Shelly had really dug deep for her second-chance plan. Shelly wanted to lose weight—reinvent herself—and she’d shared it honestly. Georgie felt guilty she couldn’t do the same. So…she’d offered her friends part of the truth and prayed it would be enough. She’d thrown her goal out quickly, ashamed to admit she was hoping to derail the train. Take some of the seriousness out of the game and make it funny instead.
Her plan had failed as everyone else announced their goals for the New Year. Georgie had listened as they listed the standard fare. Zoey was going to get healthy and Laura wanted to rediscover herself after a bad divorce.
She’d been super impressed with Josie’s plan to fuck her way through every full moon. That one was totally cool. And then the Queen of Singlehood, Kristen, dropped the bomb that she wanted to find a husband. Those last two goals offered some potentially entertaining conversation for their standard Thursday wine nights.
It was Georgie’s plan for a second chance at happiness that seemed less clear, less thought-out. Probably because she’d only given them a smal
l peek at what she truly hoped to accomplish. Initially, she’d felt compelled to give them some lame goal like getting organized or something, but they wouldn’t have been satisfied with that. She had a reputation—well earned—for being outlandish. They never would have accepted that she’d make such a dumb resolution. So she’d said the first thing that popped into her head, just like she always did.
“It’s really not that clear, Georgie. You’ve never struck me as the type to focus on the past. You’re always moving full steam ahead, trying new things, experiencing whatever life throws at you. When you want something, you go for it. This goal…” Kristen’s words faded away. She’d opened the wine and now she was looking straight at Georgie, which meant Georgie had to work overtime to school her features.
“Feels like a big step backward.” Georgie knew that. Yet it was something she needed to do. She’d told her friends her goal was to reconnect with her three ex-fiancés. To make sure she’d made the right decision when she’d sprinted away from them. And while she truly intended to look up the exes, her reason for doing so was different from what she’d said.
“Yeah,” Kristen said. “It does. There were clearly reasons why you walked away. What makes you think those reasons won’t still be there?”
Georgie wasn’t sure how to explain, how to make Kristen understand that her reasons for leaving had less to do with the guys and everything to do with her own hang-ups. She’d never been good with confrontation when it came to matters of the heart. She could tell off strangers on the street for not picking up their dog’s poop or yell at fellow drivers who were texting behind the wheel. Those were battles she didn’t hesitate to fight. But when it came to breaking someone’s heart, she simply couldn’t do it.
So instead she’d run. Three times. That was what she wanted to try to make right.
She’d hurt three men and they deserved to know why. Plus she owed them all apologies. It was probably too late to make amends, but Georgie had to try. She simply couldn’t move forward until she’d done so. For years, she’d tried to avoid what she had done. Told herself she was better off letting bygones be bygones.
Now she knew that decision had less to do with living in the moment and more to do with cowardice. She’d been too afraid to face up to her mistakes. If she had any hope for a happy future, she needed to acknowledge her faults and change her ways. Otherwise, she was destined for a long, lonely, unhappy life.
While the other girls had accepted her goal at face value, she should have known old eagle eyes Kristen would smell a rat.
“You’re right, Kristen. All the reasons why I left might still be there. And if they are, I’ll keep moving on, but I can’t do that until I’m sure.”
“Sure of what?” Kristen asked.
Sure that she didn’t let the love of her life slip away because she’d been too afraid of commitment, of failure, of truly giving her heart to the one man who would have made her life perfect.
Georgie didn’t say any of that. Instead she shrugged and tried to minimize her goal, the purpose of this trip through the past. “I just have to say something to them. And then, it’s upward and onward.”
She hoped.
Chapter One
January’s flower is the carnation. It symbolizes love, fascination and distinction. Some messages attached to it include “My heart aches for you”, “I’ll never forget you”, “You have disappointed me” and “I wish I could be with you”.
Georgie spritzed herself with her favorite rose-scented perfume as she prepared for an evening out with the wine girls. The smell calmed her down, put her at ease. She had always respected the secret language of flowers. The Victorians used to believe each unique variety had a different meaning. So much could be said by the mere act of handing someone a flower. She thought of it often as she created the arrangements customers ordered from her small flower shop, Georgie’s Garden.
This morning she’d put together a beautiful arrangement to display in her front window featuring a huge variety of colorful carnations. As she placed each flower in the vase, she considered their meaning and realized it was as if the carnations were telling the story of her screwed-up love life.
The idea that flowers expressed some hidden meaning spoke to her. Nick Hammel, ex-fiancé number three, liked to tell her she put too much stock into the concept, but she dismissed his concerns. A straight-laced divorce lawyer, Nick had always been too black and white for her Technicolor world and it had led to some fairly heated discussions between the two of them.
Which almost always ended with a different sort of heat…in the bedroom. The man was a master at making up. Sometimes she’d purposely push his buttons just for the passionate reward at the end.
Of course that was a moot point now. Considering he hadn’t spoken more than a few forced civilities since she’d jumped out of the window at the church right before their wedding. Like right before. She’d heard the wedding march begin to play and she’d freaked the fuck out and run. Fast.
She’d felt really bad about that escape. With the first two fiancés, she hadn’t made it quite as close to an actual ceremony, unless she counted Fist Bump Phil’s attempt at a romantic matrimonial gesture—which she didn’t. Leaving Nick standing at the altar was probably the worst thing she’d ever done in her life and there weren’t many nights where she didn’t lie in bed, consumed with the guilt of it.
With any luck, she’d find some way to make it up to Nick this year. After all, she’d spoken that resolution out loud. To her friends. She didn’t doubt for a moment, they would remain true to their goals and they’d hold her to hers. They were sort of pushy…and lovely that way. That was why they were such awesome friends.
But tonight wasn’t about her. She blew out a long breath, then fluffed her hair and touched up her eyeliner, trying to push away all thoughts of New Year’s resolutions, second chances and broken engagements. She’d think about that tomorrow. Tonight, she was focusing her energy on helping her friends take some steps toward finding their own happiness.
She finished up her makeup, unbuttoned one more button on her blouse to expose a bit more of the girls—they were perky and ready to play—then she checked her watch.
Party time.
She was heading out with Laura and Kristen in an effort to help them achieve their resolutions. Laura wanted to feel younger, to discover the girl she’d once been, and Kristen wanted a man. Georgie felt pretty sure she could help them on both counts.
She grabbed her phone and money, tucked it in the back of her jeans and headed down the block to Laura’s townhouse, walking fast in the cold air because she refused to put a jacket on over her brand-new, smoking-hot, check out my cleavage blouse.
She’d offered to drive with the knowledge they’d be cabbing it home. If either Kristen or Laura had driven, they would have slowly sipped a single glass of wine and used the DD role as an excuse for not letting their hair down and having fun. Georgie wasn’t about to let either one of them bail or be lame.
Once she arrived at Laura’s house, she gave both women a quick once over. Laura had a tendency to dress like a conservative librarian at times and Kristen, ever the lawyer, was a big fan of the power suit, which was more apt to scare off prospective suitors than find her some sexy man to rock her world between the sheets. However, her friends had taken her fashion tips and they actually looked pretty hot.
Georgie approved their wardrobes and they headed to Blue Moon. She was amazed she had gotten them out with her at all. Kristen and Laura were the older members of their unlikely gang of friends and they typically preferred quiet nights at home over barhopping and dance clubs.
Of course Georgie almost lost them at the door when they realized there was a band playing that drew in the college crowd, but it wasn’t like their bumfuck town had that many options for partying. Luckily, both women seemed determined to follow through on their plans for a second
chance at happiness, so they paid the cover and came in.
They snagged a table near the dance floor and started downing the lemon shooters like it was their job. Nothing like a little vodka to lower the inhibitions.
Georgie closed her eyes, getting lost in the killer drumbeat. “This music kicks ass. I might have to see if the band is selling CDs during a break.”
The waitress returned to offer another round at the same time three guys approached.
“Hey,” one of the men said, “we’ll buy this round if you’ll share your table with us. This place is fucking packed.”
“Deal,” Kristen said, sticking out her hand.
All three of the guys were hot, but Georgie dismissed them. They were way too young for her girlfriends. Hell, Laura had a son about the same age as them. Then, Georgie took a closer look and begrudgingly decided they were probably too young for her too, but screw that jazz. That didn’t mean they weren’t fun to look at and flirt with. She might be in her thirties, but she was far from dead.
Kristen, as always, took charge. “I’m Kristen and these are my friends, Georgie and Laura.”
“Nice to meet you,” the guy said, pointing to himself and then his friends. “Frank, Wade and Randy.”
They did another round of shots with their new tablemates, then Laura began awkwardly moving to the music.
Georgie watched for a few seconds before losing it. “Oh fuck, what’s that?” she asked, giggling.
Laura tilted her head, confused. “Dancing.”
Georgie shook her head. “Never do that again. Um, hello, George Michael. Nobody swings their arms around like that anymore.”
Laura laughed, and then asked for instructions. Georgie grabbed a guy, Kevin, from a nearby table to help in the lesson and soon her friend found a few decent moves that didn’t resemble a drowning woman flailing in the ocean.
The night passed in a pleasant haze of shots, hot college guys and dancing. Georgie was glad they’d come. She’d been feeling blue since New Year’s Eve. Tonight was helping her break out of those doldrums.