Second Chance

by Gena Showalter

  He returned to the inn with several pieces of the headboard. No one was up as he carried each one to the theme room. Harlow’s murals were coming along nicely. The colors she’d used on the different seasons were vivid and lifelike. In winter, the snow seemed to glitter as it fell, and in summer, waves seemed to ripple through the river.

  “I’ve missed you, Dorothea.”

  The silkily spoken words echoed down the hall and gave Daniel pause. So did the affectionate tone.

  He stalked into the lobby and found a group of four crowded around the counter. One woman, three men. Mrs. Hathaway was slumped in a chair, snoring. No doubt nothing would wake her.

  Daniel came up alongside Thea and wrapped an arm around her waist, glad to have her in reach again. He’d missed her more than he was comfortable admitting.

  He kissed her temple and said, “Glad to see you’re still wearing the white polish.”

  She trembled against him.

  “Can we help you?” he asked the others.

  The guy—the ex, he realized. The weatherman. Daniel recognized the polished hair and surfer-boy face. Weatherman was staring at Thea as if she were the answer to all his problems. Which was a major fucking problem.

  “Daniel, meet Jazz Connors. He’s here to do a story on our town’s weather patterns,” Thea explained with false cheer. “This is his mistress—oh, I’m sorry, his girlfriend, Charity Sparks.”

  “Ex,” Weatherman said.

  Charity cast a nervous glance to the men standing behind her. “I didn’t break them up. They were separated when Jazz and I got together.”

  “No,” Thea said, “we weren’t.”

  “Let’s not do this here.” Weatherman met Daniel’s glare with one of his own. “Who are you?”

  Daniel smiled without an ounce of humor. “I’m the boyfriend. And you’ll have to excuse my disheveled appearance. I spent the entire night assuaging someone’s—and I won’t mention any names—insatiable lust.”

  He expected a reprimand, but Thea surprised him, turning to trace her fingertips down his chest. “I believe we decided your title is gentleman lover.”

  Hot damn, but he could have kissed her.

  What the hell? She belonged to him now. They were in this thing together; they’d decided. He kissed her.

  Weatherman gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles quickly bleaching of color; it was suddenly very clear he still had feelings for Thea.

  Daniel understood. Thea was one of a kind. No one had a sense of humor like hers. No one was more kind or caring, no one more giving. No one had better dance moves, or charmed others so easily. No one had a body like hers. No one had lips like hers. She was passionate enough to blow his ever-loving mind. Beautiful in every way.

  But she’s mine.

  The fact that Weatherman had cheated on her and then taken a year to fight for her, well, he’d just proved how stupid he was.

  “We talked days ago, and you didn’t mention a boyfriend,” Weatherman grated.

  “You guys talk? Because I thought you’d told your ex to leave you the hell alone.” Daniel directed the words to Weatherman, knowing the bastard was trying to drive a wedge of jealousy between him and Thea. Not just stupid. Idiotic.

  “Something like that.” Her glistening lips pursed. “He calls me. He even used an app to track my phone so he could accost me while I was in the city.”

  Well, now. If they were dealing with a stalker situation, things were gonna get mean. And by things he meant his temper.

  He made a mental note to ask Brock and Jude to do a background check on the guy.

  “He calls you again, he and I are going to have a problem,” Daniel said, staring at Weatherman. A grin curved his mouth, this one all bite and malice. “I tend to beat my problems bloody.”

  Weatherman blanched and grumbled, “So unprofessional.”

  Dorothea shrugged, all Daniel’s the best man I know. At least, he hoped. The girl, Charity, paled.

  “We’re just here to film a three-part segment about the tornadoes, storms and earthquakes the town has experienced in recent times.” Weatherman shifted from one Italian loafer to the other. “Also…I thought I could film you while I’m here and present the video to my network. I can help you get the job of your dreams. Like we always planned.”

  Charity offered Thea a brittle smile. “Don’t worry about your appearance. I can help with hair and makeup.”

  Thea stiffened, and Daniel cursed the blonde with every fiber of his being. If assholes were airplanes, the inn would now be classified as an airport.

  “You thinking what the rest of us are thinking?” he asked Miz Charity. “That Thea is going to overshadow anyone who’s on camera with her?”

  Petting his chest once again, Thea rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I… Well… Yes, of course.” Charity looked away, saying, “Your inn is so…unique, Dorothea.” She ran her finger over the laminate on the counter. “My grandmother used to have this design in her kitchen.”

  “May I speak with you in private, Dorothea?” Weatherman glanced between her and Daniel. “Please.”

  No way in hell. Daniel knew the guy wanted Thea back in his bed. And why wouldn’t he? The woman had nearly burned Daniel alive. He’d taken her three times, three different ways, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of her.

  Usually at this point in a “relationship,” his more violent memories began to plague him. He would move on to a new woman, a new challenge, in need of a new distraction. But he had no glimmer of disconnect this time. He only wanted more of Thea. More of her humor. Her kisses. Her touch. Her breathless moans of surrender. There was nothing sweeter.

  Besides, he already had a new and better challenge. Several, actually. Making her smile and laugh—making her happy. The rewards would far outshine any he would find inside another woman.

  “A chat won’t be necessary,” Thea announced, saving him from having to pull the he-man card. “We’ve said all we need to say to each other.”

  “Here, let me give you guys the address to the nearest hotel. I think you’ll really enjoy the amenities. Namely, you’ll get to keep your balls.” Daniel reached for a piece of paper.

  Thea might have whimpered and whispered, “But the money I’d make…”

  Charity looked hopeful. “I didn’t know there was a hotel within—”

  “No. The nearest hotel is at least twenty miles away,” Jazz said, glaring at Daniel. “We’ll stay here.”

  “Wonderful.” Blanking her expression, Charity waved her hand through the air. “Here is absolutely…fine.”

  An-n-nd Jazz continued to glare at him.

  “Well, all right, then.” Thea inhaled deep, exhaled slow. “Let’s see what we have available.”

  The bell over the door tinkled, and Virgil came rushing inside, dragged by Adonis and Echo.

  Gasping for breath, Virgil said, “Here they are. Delivered as requested, son.”

  Jazz, Charity and company split like the Red Sea. The dogs released a steady stream of barks until they reached the counter, where they promptly jumped up to rest their front paws.

  Virgil eyed the newcomers and the array of equipment scattered about the room with suspicion. When his gaze landed on Weatherman, he snapped his fingers. “I recognize you.”

  Jazz brightened. “You sure do, sir. I’m Jazz Connors.” He extended his hand to shake. “I’m chief meteorologist for Channel—”

  “No, no, that’s not it. You’re our sweet little Dorothea’s ex-husband.”

  Now Jazz paled. “I…I’m…”

  Virgil slapped his thigh. “Only a real bumble brain can’t keep his unmentionable tucked into his unmentionables while he’s with a woman other than his wife. An honorable man does everything he can to fix the problems at ho
me without straying.”

  Jazz flinched but recovered quickly. “If I could go back, sir—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Virgil interjected. “If my sister had been born with a pecker, she would have been my brother. Ain’t no use wishing for what ain’t.”

  “Mr. Porter, please,” Thea said on a groan.

  “Now, I’m sorry to burn the ears of a lady, but I can’t keep quiet about a grave injustice,” the old man said, and Daniel grinned at the singular use of lady. “I hope you don’t mind, but your dear old momma told me all about your marital troubles, and it made me just about as mad as a donkey chewing on bumblebees. And, honey, if a man is going to commit the crime, he needs to do the time.”

  “If you’ll just let me explain,” Weatherman said.

  Vigil gave him the stinky side-eye. “If excuses were gooses, we’d all have a happy Thanksgiving. You remember that.”

  Weatherman was a fool. He’d chosen Charity over Thea. A rotten apple over a lush orange. His mistake. My gain.

  Thea blinked up at Daniel. “This is really happening?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Would you stop calling me ma’am?”

  “No, ma’am. I have manners. My daddy raised me right.”

  Virgil beamed at him.

  “Um…our room key, please?” Charity looked like a convict intent on escape.

  Weatherman cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders and picked up his conversation with Virgil. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  Virgil wasn’t interested in excuses. “I think you mean the pecker wanted what the pecker wanted.”

  “Dad, I love you.” Daniel claimed the dog leashes and kissed Thea’s gorgeous mouth right there in front of everyone. Kissed her hard, staking a very clear claim. By the time he lifted his head, she was just the way he liked her: breathless and weak in the knees, her frown gone. “I’m gonna miss you. You gonna miss me?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  He grinned at her before turning to Virgil. “Come on, Dad. Let’s get you to Anthony’s before my girlfriend decides I’m not worth the hassle.” Weatherman wouldn’t do anything untoward in front of his coworkers.

  Daniel met Thea’s widening gaze; her shamrock eyes were bright. “Call me if you need me for anything. I mean it. Otherwise I’ll see you on our run because, yes, the dogs and I are going with you. Also, you owe me a glass of golden milk, and I will collect. With interest.”

  * * *

  DOROTHEA COULD ONLY NOD, caught up in the whirlwind that was Daniel Porter. Was this what life as his girlfriend was going to be like? Every morning she would be trapped in a tumult of sensation, emotion, surprise and longing?

  Well, sign her up for an eternity.

  “Golden milk,” she said. “Check. I’ll make it after our run.” She’d never had a jogging partner, but she’d always wanted one. “Our run. The one we’ll be doing together.”

  “If the ex bothers you, let me know and I’ll take care of it,” Daniel added, and he wasn’t exactly quiet about it. He kissed her again, quickly this time, before taking off with his dad and the dogs.

  Her hand fluttered to her chest. What a man.

  Jazz turned his glare on her, and Charity offered her a bright smile, this one genuine.

  Just think of the money they’re going to pay you.

  Four guests for four nights at double her usual rate—because why not?

  She put everyone on the second floor and passed out keys. “For breakfast, coffee and muffins are free of charge. If you want something more substantial, call room service or visit the dining room to place an order.” Now that Carol had returned, the inn could offer hot meals rather than just snacks. “The kitchen is open for lunch and dinner, as well.”

  “Please, Dorothea,” Jazz said. “Talk to me. I have so much to tell you.”

  Anger flickered in Charity’s irises, the edges made ragged by…fear? She was scared of losing him, wasn’t she?

  Ugh. Why would she want to keep him?

  “Jazz!” Holly’s voice rang out.

  Cheering up, Jazz turned. “Holly!”

  Her sister ran to her ex and threw herself into his arms. He twirled her around.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Holly said.

  “I’ve missed you, too, squirt.”

  Seeing them, Dorothea’s heart hurt. When she’d first returned to town, she’d longed for this kind of welcoming reception from her sister. What she’d gotten instead? A bubble pop in her face and a snarled “And I didn’t think my life could suck worse.”

  “Are you staying here?” Holly asked Jazz, ignoring everyone else.

  “I sure am.” He dangled his key in front of her. “Four nights.”

  She clapped like the happy child she used to be. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

  There went the progress they’d made, Dorothea thought with a sigh.

  Jazz tossed her a do-you-see-how-good-we-can-be-together look over his shoulder. One Dorothea disregarded. He was part of a past she never wanted to revisit. But, no lie, it had felt good, really good, to show her ex how amazing her life had turned out without him. Sure, she hadn’t lived all of her dreams, but she was happy, and dang if she couldn’t make new dreams.

  Unlike the crewmen, Charity didn’t follow the pair. She reached over the counter to take Dorothea’s hand. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things happened. I never meant for you… But I loved… I’m sorry,” she finished lamely. “And I’d like us to be friends, Dorothea.”

  Uh, what now?

  “I admit I was worried when Jazz pitched your hometown to the network,” she continued. “I thought you’d try to steal him away from me, but I can see you have your own man now.”

  Was this girl for real? She thought Dorothea had her own man now. Now. As if she hadn’t before. Where was Charity’s moral compass?

  “I’ll be honest,” Dorothea said, extracting her hand “I don’t ever see us becoming friends.”

  Delicate shoulders wilted yet again. “Yeah. I thought you might say that. I didn’t mean to insult you or your inn. I was just… I want Jazz to fall in love with me again. He broke up with me, you know? For no reason! I did nothing wrong. I cater to his every whim. I thought maybe if I made him see he doesn’t belong here, he’d—”

  “I don’t want to hear this.” And yet she almost asked why Charity wanted to keep a man slimy enough to have an affair, even if the affair had been with her.

  “Of course not,” Charity said. “I understand. But I really would—”

  Dorothea didn’t wait for her to finish. She walked around the counter and out of the building, leaving Charity in the lobby. Shake it off. She jogged in place for a moment, warming up, breathing in and out with purpose. The sun was shining, a beautiful roll cloud consuming the sky. Birds were chirping.

  Her mother was currently pruning the rosebushes in front of the inn, where a plot of grass separated sidewalk from street. “The guests need a pretty view,” she liked to say. The buds were starting to bloom and scent the air.

  “Morning, my dear,” Carol said. A hat shielded her face from the sun’s glare.

  “Morning, Momma.” She made no mention of Virgil’s confession. What good would it do? Carol would feel bad for gossiping, and Dorothea would feel guilty for making her feel bad. But lesson learned. Carol couldn’t be trusted with her secrets. “I’ll be back in about an hour. You’ve got your phone, right? The guests might ring you for a meal. And if anyone else shows up wanting a room—”

  “I’ll see to them, don’t you worry.” Carol wiped her dirt-covered gloves together. “Daniel told me to tell you he’s waiting for you at Anthony’s, and you aren’t to leave him behind.”

  “Great. Thanks.” One step aw
ay, that was as far as she got.

  “I noticed he stayed the night at the inn,” her mother continued.

  Tread carefully. “He does that sometimes.”

  “I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, young lady. I know he stayed in your room.”

  “Well, we’re dating.” Openly! “That’s going to be happening quite a bit in the near future.”

  Carol frowned at her. “I hope you know what you’re doing. He’s—”

  “A wonderful man. I know.” And that’s my cue to go. Dorothea kicked off.

  When she reached Style Me Tender, she jogged in place, watching as Daniel played with the dogs. He noticed her and smiled a special smile. One she’d never seen before. One she liked to think was for her alone. Rays of sunlight spilled over him, his masculinity on full display.

  But the special smile didn’t last long. A shadow of concern passed over his features.

  Concern for what?

  “Hey, Virgil. Hey, Anthony,” she said with a wave. The two were at their table, playing checkers.

  “Hello again, Miss Dorothea.” Virgil padded over to kiss her cheek. “Now, I want you to know something. I’m not sorry for gettin’ stern with the pretty boy back there. He did you wrong, and that’ll never be okay in my book.” His gaze slid to his son. “Not ever. I’ll tan the hide of anyone who breaks your heart, and I mean that.”

  Anthony nodded his agreement, and she wanted to laugh. They were acting like fathers—hers rather than Daniel’s. The way fathers were supposed to act.

  “That’s enough out of you two.” Daniel handed her Echo’s leash—actually, he presented it to her, as if he were making a point about something—and she gladly accepted. “Get ready for the workout of a lifetime.”

  “I’m stronger than I look. This pup isn’t going to get the better of me.”

  “Just you wait.”

  They started off slowly, teaching the dogs to stay at their sides and not buck or lunge when squirrels and cars passed. Soon sweat beaded on her forehead, trickled down her temples. Echo yanked the leash so many times Dorothea lost count, and her arms began to burn more than her legs.