The Single Mom's Second Chance

by Jessica Keller

  “That’s not a question.”

  “I know you two dated.”

  “Still not a question.”

  “You two have been eyeing each other all day and were cozy at Agostini’s last night. And there’s all those pictures of you two that Goose Tales keeps posting.”

  “Yet again, not a question.”

  Kendall let out a groan and shoved his shoulder. “What’s going on between you two?”

  So Claire had never told her the details? Interesting.

  “Today?”

  She nodded.

  “Nothing.” He yanked on the sleeves of his tux. “We’re doing our duties. Making your day grand and all that.”

  The waiter placed a helping of chicken limone and mashed baby reds in front of him.

  Someone at table seven started clanking a glass. Kendall held up a finger, letting him know the conversation wasn’t over, and then turned and planted one on Brice. She turned back toward Evan, smoothed her hands over her dress and started talking again as if nothing had happened. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

  Evan sank his fork into the potatoes. “Well, that’s all that’s for sale.”

  Kendall placed her napkin on her lap. “Something more happened than anyone is telling me. I’ve tried to get it out of your brother and he says it’s not for him to share.”

  “That.” Evan took a bite of the chicken and took his time chewing it before continuing. “And he doesn’t know everything.”

  Kendall set her hand on his wrist, stopping his motions. “Claire is my best friend.”

  Evan let go of his fork; it clattered against his plate. He hung his head and took a deep breath. “Which means you wouldn’t like me if you knew the truth.”

  “What happened? Please.” She jiggled his arm. “Pretty please?”

  Even though it was her wedding, Evan knew too well that she’d keep trying to corner him all night until he gave her something.

  Where to start? What to tell? Keep it short. “We planned to run away from our families and get married the day after her eighteenth birthday.”

  Kendall’s eyes grew into saucers. “That clearly didn’t happen, though.”

  “I didn’t show up at the courthouse. Claire waited and I never came. She thought she was getting married and instead she left that night for New York. Eleven years passed before she set foot in town again.”

  Color drained from Kendall’s cheeks. “Why? How could you do that to her?”

  The photographer interrupted them. “If you two could lean together.”

  Evan wrapped his arm around Kendall’s shoulder.

  “Smile, please!” The big attachment on the camera surged with light. “Thanks, perfect.”

  Evan removed his arm from around his sister-in-law. He ran his palms back and forth over the itchy fabric of the rented tux pants. “I told you you wouldn’t like me.”

  “Oh, I still like you. You’re family. I’ll always have your back. And I’ll always believe the best about you, even in this.”

  He stared at his chicken limone and watched the sauce pool on the edge of his plate. He swallowed once, twice, before saying, “Thank you.”

  “But I need you to be more careful with Claire.” Kendall speared a piece of asparagus on her plate with more gusto than necessary. “I know you’re just really friendly and outgoing, but most people read that as you leading women on. All I’m saying is don’t lead Claire on.”

  “Listen.” Evan poked at his chicken. “The election will be held in just over a week and Claire and I won’t have any reason to interact anymore.”

  An ache spread through his chest. Until the words had left his mouth, he hadn’t processed that he would lose Claire again. And soon. If she won, she’d have no reason to talk to him. The mayor hardly needed to solicit advice from a woodworker. If he won, she wouldn’t want to talk to him, especially after the truth came out. He and Brice were going to push for permits to build a new dock and take business away from her father. In the end, that was the entire reason Brice wanted him to win. It all came down to Sesser.

  Claire wouldn’t be okay with that.

  “One of us will win and the other person will fade away.”

  Kendall’s brow pinched. “When you put it that way, it sounds downright depressing.”

  “It’s the only way I see this panning out. Claire and I...it’s not possible for us to be friends without someone getting burned.” When they did try to be friends, the people around them were determined to pull them apart. Brice questioned every interaction, and Evan knew Sesser was putting pressure on Claire. Now Kendall was telling him to stay away.

  The deejay announced it was time for the bride and groom to have their first dance.

  “Fine,” Kendall whispered as she rose from her seat and took Brice’s hand. “Just, for her sake, try not to be so charming.”

  “Will do, sis.” He shoved the mashed potatoes around on his plate, no longer hungry.

  The fact that he’d coaxed a smile, laughter and some back and forth teasing out of Claire on the way to their seats had made his day. It had made him want to try to keep her smiling all night.

  Perhaps that was the problem.

  He had no right to want to be the reason she smiled.

  * * *

  When the deejay called for the wedding party to join the bride and groom on the dance floor, Claire gulped down her last sip of water and then slipped her hand into Evan’s. He led her to the center of the floor and the song began. Something low and sweet and incredibly sappy. No doubt Kendall had selected the playlist.

  Evan placed his palm at the small of Claire’s back. A tentative lift of his lips hinted at a smile. “This okay?”

  She rested her hand on his firm shoulder. “As long as you keep those toes off of mine, we’re good.”

  A gentle laugh rumbled in his chest. “If it’s any comfort, I dance a little better these days than I used to.”

  He took his hand off her spine and spun her out and away from him, timed exactly with the swell of the music. Just as smoothly, he drew her back into his embrace. However, this time when his arm came around her she was closer to him, her temple only a few inches from his shoulder. They weren’t simply doing a box step. Evan moved them around the floor. He even dipped her.

  It would have been so easy to lay her head against his shoulder and close her eyes, lose herself in the sway of their bodies. Listen to his heartbeat—her favorite sound—like the old days. Where her fingers rested on his shoulder, it was impossible not to feel the strength of the man. His muscles had been trained and hardened by years of manual labor, of sweat and honest work. His occupation was his gym.

  His chin grazed her head as he tilted to look at her face, and that little movement, the knowledge of how near his lips were to her forehead, made her throat go dry. Could he feel her heart pounding away against her rib cage? Like if it beat hard enough, it could break free and reach him—reach home.

  Foolishness, Claire.

  But Auden had never held her like this. Gently and carefully, as if she was something infinitely precious that needed to be cherished. Someone who deserved thoughtful attention.

  The flash of a camera snapped her out of her musing. These were Evan’s arms. An ex-boyfriend, a heartbreaker, the man she wanted to beat in an election. Not cozy up to.

  Had Kendall chosen the extended version of the song? Claire couldn’t trust herself to remain rational in Evan’s arms much longer.

  Regaining control over her wayward emotions, she leaned back a fraction. “When did you learn to dance?”

  His eyes connected with hers, their green hue vivid in the light of the hanging lanterns. “Laura drafts me whenever she wants to practice a part in whatever play she’s in at that moment. Lately she’s been on a m
usical spree, which means I’ve had to learn my share of choreography. But let’s keep that between us, okay?” He made a show of glancing around, pretending he cared if they were overheard. “Can’t go ruining my tough-guy reputation.”

  “Please.” Claire chuckled. “You’re about as tough-guy as a marshmallow and everyone in town knows it.”

  “I’m not—wait, I am.” He pouted. Apparently Laura wasn’t the only member of the Daniels clan with a flair for dramatic acting. “A marshmallow, that is. I let the first graders beat me at Candyland after Sunday school last week.”

  Evan would make such a good father. Her heart flipped at the realization.

  She swallowed and forced her face to remain neutral. “See?”

  His hand on her back tiptoed up to touch her hair. “I can’t stand it when they’re all sad after losing.”

  “Marshmallow.” Her voice was far more breathless than she was comfortable with.

  “Which are delicious and universally adored.”

  Just like you, her treacherous heart screamed.

  The song was finally replaced by an upbeat rhythm as the deejay welcomed all the wedding guests onto the floor.

  Claire broke away from Evan. “I have to find Alex.”

  Evan nodded and headed back to his place at the head table. She noticed that a couple other women approached him during the reception, but he didn’t participate in another slow dance the rest of the night. For that matter, neither did Claire. After remembering how wonderful it felt to be in Evan’s arms again, no one else would have been able to compare.

  Chapter Eleven

  The morning of the Valentine’s Day Shuffle was crisp and clear, the perfect day for a run.

  However, not the perfect day to be surrounded by love. At least, not for Claire.

  Perhaps the distraction presented by the fund-raising teamwork challenge was for the best. If not for the commitment, Claire might have moped today and spent far too much time in melancholy reflection.

  She parked her car and made her way over to the booth near the gazebo on the square to see if there were any last-minute details that required her attention. Even though she wasn’t going to participate in the 5k, she wore running pants and a fitted thermal top to keep up appearances and blend with the crowd.

  Heart-shaped balloons were strung in an arch that would serve as the finish line. A jazz band supplied by Goose Harbor High School played crooner love songs near the bandshell. The bake sale ladies hawked frosted heart sugar cookies and chocolate-dipped strawberries.

  “Your Valentine will love these.”

  Today would have been her and Auden’s one-year anniversary, if she’d gone through with the wedding. She hadn’t planned on that realization rocking her so much. Claire slipped on her sunglasses, hoping it would hide any lingering trace of the tears she’d shed on her drive over. She didn’t mourn her relationship with Auden, just the possibility that it had presented.

  And the finality that today seemed to epitomize. Alone. Again. Always.

  Had her life become better since ending the engagement? She had Alex, a huge positive. But she still didn’t have a career or a life or something to claim as her own. She still felt so lost and useless. That was why winning the position of mayor meant so much to her. It was something she could claim as an accomplishment. She could hang on to that title and say I matter, you picked me, I belong.

  “Here’s your racing bib. Number 78!” Shelby Beck handed Claire a paper with a number on it and four safety pins. “Do you want to run with one of our shelter dogs? A few are still available.”

  Shelby jutted her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of a penned-in area where ten dogs were standing, tails wagging. She and her fireman fiancé ran a dog rescue facility near the dunes. They’d volunteered to help organize everything on the day of the race in exchange for being allowed to bring some of their dogs for people to take along on the run and consider adopting.

  “Oh, I’m not running in the 5k. Just an organizer.” Claire attempted to hand her number back.

  Shelby skewed up her lips. “Says here you’re registered as a runner. Paid and everything.”

  “It’s a mistake. I didn’t register.”

  “I did.” Evan appeared at her side. “She’s running.”

  Shelby laughed and handed over his racing bib. “This is between you two and I’m not about to get in the middle.”

  Claire stomped after Evan.

  He hiked his leg, stepping into the fenced-in area. The moment he was in the enclosure the dogs surrounded him, sniffing, some with full-body wags.

  “Which one?” Evan gave them each a head scratch. He got down on one knee to consider a dog that looked like it might be a cross between a husky and a boxer. “I’m thinking this guy.” The dog offered him a chin lick as he checked the animal’s tag. “Er, girl. Says her name’s Stella. Well, Stella, wanna run with us?”

  “With him.”

  “Us.” He clipped a leash onto the dog’s collar and led her out of the enclosure. “The purpose of athletic wear isn’t to prance around looking cute.” His grin took on a wolfish quality. “Although, if it was, you’d have that covered.” The second the words were out his smile froze. “I probably shouldn’t have said that. Correction, I definitely shouldn’t have said that.”

  With her sunglasses on, he couldn’t tell if she was looking at him or not. Might not be able to assess if the heat blazing across her cheeks, which had no doubt colored them pink, meant she was upset or amused.

  She let him squirm for another second. Then said, “It’s fine. Except I definitely don’t prance.”

  “Prove it by running.”

  Mr. Banks climbed up the steps of the gazebo and announced that the countdown for the race was about to begin.

  Evan scooted past Claire, Stella happily bounding beside him. “What? Afraid you can’t keep up?” he called over his shoulder.

  Sometimes a good run cleared her mind. Participating in the Valentine’s Day Shuffle while she was struggling with the significance of the day might actually be a good idea. At the least it would serve as a distraction for the next thirty or forty minutes.

  Claire groaned, opened the safety pins and started affixing her number to the front of her shirt for timing purposes. Her parents kept a functioning workout room in their basement and Claire made good use of the treadmill. She’d never run a 5k outside, but how difficult could it be? There were people significantly older and younger than her lining up at the starting point. If they could do it, it shouldn’t be an issue for her.

  A horn blast signaled the start of the race and everyone surged forward. A lady jogging behind a double stroller wiped past her. Skylar Ashby ran beside her father, a white T-shirt pulled over her sweatshirt. In uneven, puffy paint letters across the back was the message Vote for Dad!

  Claire kicked into high gear to catch up with Evan and Stella. This wasn’t a formal part of the mayoral competition, but the people of Goose Harbor would treat it that way.

  “Pace yourself,” Evan warned when she came up beside him. The elements had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose red.

  Mile one wasn’t so bad. But mile two? Oh, her lungs burned, her legs ached and talking was next to impossible.

  Evan stayed beside her even though Claire could tell he could run much faster and was holding himself back. At least his breath was coming out in loud, jagged puffs. “Need to walk?”

  She nodded, swallowed, licked her lips and stopped. Gulping air, she braced her hands on her thighs. Stella plopped down on top of Claire’s shoes and looked up at her with sky blue eyes. She whined once, whined again. Hopped up and licked Claire’s chin. Claire didn’t have the strength to fight off the loving assault.

  “Don’t stop completely.” Evan put his arm to her back and propelled he
r forward. “Once you stop, it’s ten times as tough to keep going.”

  “This is so much harder than the treadmill.” She panted, plodding onward. “Why is it so much harder?”

  “You’re pushing yourself forward, instead of the machine doing it for you. The cold air doesn’t help, either.”

  She bobbed her chin, breathing heavily. “And my feet still hurt from the heels I wore for the wedding. So not fair. You didn’t have to wear heels.”

  He shoulder bumped her. “I wouldn’t look as good in them as you did.”

  “A small comfort.”

  “Come on, let’s try to jog.” He started going faster and got in front of her. Stella barked as she vaulted to join him, clearly happy at the increased speed. “Mrs. Clarkson and her crew are power walking this thing and I don’t want them to catch up to us.”

  At the final mile marker Evan reached for Claire’s arm. “We’re almost done now. Let’s pick it up.”

  “Evan, I can’t.”

  “You know they’re going to be snapping pictures of us.”

  She moaned. “Tell me again, why did you talk me into doing this?”

  “Because I know you’re capable of more than you think you are.”

  She had no quick quip to throw back at him. No jest or flash of wit. Evan had faith in her, from silly things like running a 5k to believing she had it in her to succeed at following her dreams. That’s why he’d encouraged her to paint the other day. He knew that was important to her. Knew that no one else cared about that long hidden desire of her heart.

  With Evan in her life, she was stronger. Just being around him made her believe she was capable of scaling mountains, too. She rose to his challenges, but never felt like he’d be disappointed if she didn’t reach them...only if she refused to try.

  Over the past few weeks he’d proved that he was patient, kind, humble and self-sacrificing. He cared about protecting others and always hoped for the best.

  Evan would make a far better mayor than Claire ever would.

  * * *