Her Second Chance Cowboy Billionaire Christmas Secret (Home For Christmas)

by Hanna Hart

  "No,” Tibby giggled. “Seriously, Ava. There’s Walker.”

  Ava set her jaw. "Yes, there’s Walker. Painful-horrible-breakup-Walker. The cutest guy I ever kissed and I was too young and too scared to—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, Tibby began to laugh even harder. "No, Ava!” she said, her eyes wide with amusement as she pointed.

  Ava didn’t have a chance to turn around before she heard his voice.

  "Hey, you,” he said, smooth and cool.

  She turned in her seat and felt her skin wash over with goosebumps. It had been years since she felt this stunned at anything.

  "H-hey,” she stammered, staring up at him. He was still as handsome as ever. He had blonde hair, a strong jaw, and the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen in her whole life.

  "My ears are burning,” he said in his charming way, looking calm and perfectly happy to be talking to them. Not stunned and stupid like she must have looked. “That must have been my name you were cursing just now?” he chuckled.

  "We were just, uh, reminiscing about old boyfriends,” Ava said quickly, then winced and shook her head. “I mean, not reminiscing, just talking about, um…”

  "Ava kissed a married guy,” Tibby interjected casually.

  "Tibby!” she exclaimed, horrified. She looked at Walker and bit her lip. “Not on purpose!” she corrected quickly.

  Walker snapped his fingers, not missing a beat. “Don’t you just hate it when you trip on the sidewalk, and your mouth flies right into a married guy’s face?”

  “Does that happen to you often?” Tibby asked with a teasing grin.

  He winked at her playfully before turning back Ava. She couldn’t believe he was here, staring at her, smiling at her as though she deserved a warm greeting. The last time they spoke played over and over in her head—the hurt in his voice—and she felt suddenly shattered. Guilty.

  "We were on a date and…” she went to explain but stopped mid-sentence. “What are you doing here?”

  "No, please, go on. I want to hear more about your scandalous life,” he said. “Makes me feel a little more normal.”

  "It’s not scandalous. It’s dull, really,” she said. Why was she so nervous? “The universe just wanted to keep me on my toes, I guess. What are you doing here?”

  "Just visiting family,” he said.

  She watched the words leave his mouth, but it took her a minute to register what he’d said. "You still…?”

  "In Texas,” he nodded. “Yeah.”

  "How’s ranchin’ life, Tex?” Tibby asked, gesturing towards the brimmed cowboy hat atop Walker’s head.

  "It’s good, Tibbs,” he said. “Harder than I thought but it’s good.”

  "My mom read about it in some travel magazine,” her friend continued casually. She had a warm, appealing tone to her that Ava desperately wished she could master. “Looks like you’re gettin’ up there as one of the fanciest ranches across the US of A.”

  "Well, shucks,” he said with a humored modesty. “I try.”

  "Speaking of trying,” Tibby said, setting both of her hands on the countertop like she was getting ready to vault out of there. “I am going to go try to get a spot in front of the fireworks before the line starts getting crazy. I’ll save you a seat, ‘K?”

  Ava’s eyes widened, and she fought clenching her teeth as she insisted, “I’ll come with you.”

  "No! Stay here and catch up, and grab us something to drink before you go. I’ll take another green tea,” Tibby said, tossing a couple of ones onto the table. Turning to Walker, she pulled his hat down and teased, “See you, Tex.”

  "Nice talkin’ to you,” he said, fixing his hat.

  The two of them watched Tibby walk out of the restaurant with a bounce in her step. When the door closed behind her, Ava’s eyes met Walker’s and she smiled uncomfortably.

  “Do you want to…” she said, gesturing toward the seat in front of her.

  “No,” he said, waving his hands in front of his face. “No, that’s alright.”

  “I’d take the girl’s offer,” one of the baristas called from the counter, clearly talking to Walker. She nodded toward the floor of packed tables, and Ava realized that the only seat left in the house was the one she had just disingenuously offered to her ex.

  “Oh,” he said with some surprise in his voice. Wincing at her, he asked, “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head. “No, that’s fine.”

  It’s been seven years, Ava, she tried to tell herself. There is nothing wrong with catching up with an old friend after seven, long, years.

  Walker hesitated, and Ava let out a small laugh. “Just sit down,” she said.

  Her ex ordered a decaf coffee, black, and when the barista asked if he wanted anything from the menu, Ava shouted, “He’ll take the daily special!”

  “What’s the daily special?” Walker asked the barista.

  “Turkey sandwich,” the barista said.

  “Then I will take the turkey sandwich,” he said.

  “Good choice. Real festive,” said the woman behind the counter. “Take this number card with you and set it on the table. We’ll bring your food when it’s ready. Your coffee is at the end of the counter.”

  “Thanks,” he said before grabbing his coffee and taking a seat across from Ava.

  "You’re going to love your food. It's the daily special. Seven layers of disgustingly delicious turkey dinner delight."

  Walker didn't look sold on the idea. He smirked and leaned back in his chair. "Is that so?"

  "That is so," she enunciated. "You’ve got your bread, your dressing. Then you’ve got your taters, turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce."

  "How many more ingredients can they fit on this thing?" he exclaimed in quiet surprise.

  "A lot," she grinned, and the two of them laughed. "So, how have you been?"

  "Good," he said, then shrugged and corrected. "Fine, just visiting the parents, as I said. What about you? Home visiting your mom?"

  "I visit my mom every day, basically," she said, staring down into her cup.

  "Sounds like a lot has changed," he said.

  "Well, we live together," she admitted, looking up at him. "She, you know, she's Gloria."

  "Ah," he grunted. "So a lot hasn't changed."

  Walker was no stranger to her mother's drinking problems. She didn't know how many times picking her mother up from a random bar or friend's house, drunk out of her mind. But he never seemed to mind. He never judged her. Not until the end.

  "She tries," she said. "She's been doing good, actually. But she needs me, so I guess I’m sort of what you would call a lifer here in Denver."

  "Not a bad place to be," he said with an easy smile. It seemed like Walker still had that kind of charm that put her at ease and gave her tingles all at the same time. "A bad place to be would be at my house."

  "Ah, yes," she smiled. "And how are the parents?"

  "The same. So unbearable. But well-meaning." He sipped at his coffee. "Kendall got engaged."

  "Wow!" she mused. "That makes me feel kind of old! But hey, I mean, your mom must be ecstatic."

  "What is it with girls and weddings, anyway? Mothers go nuts, sisters become giddy and jealous all at the same time, the bride-to-be has an anxiety meltdown. Why are people supposed to like them?"

  Ava thinned her lips, pressing them together and licking them from the inside thoughtfully. "The guests like ‘em," was all she could come up with.

  "Nah, the guests hate it," he said, dismissing her with a regal wave of his hand. "They’re only there because of some obligation or another. It’s your boss, or if you don’t go to their wedding, then they won’t go to your kid’s something or other. It’s all a vicious cycle of family duty."

  "Wow, mister sunshine, tell me how you really feel about it," she chuckled.

  "Ah, don’t mind me," he said, sounding suddenly tired. "I’m just miserable."

  Ava looked down into her cup; stray cloves and fennel se
eds had escaped from their protective satchel into her chai tea water. She didn't say anything, and she didn't have to, because within a moment, the barista had set the leftover Thanksgiving sandwich in front of Walker. His eyes went wide as he inspected the layers and layers of meat, vegetables, and fruits. It was a rainbow oil-painting of a meal.

  "Wow," he said, sounding excited. She wasn't kidding when she said he was going to love it. Walker bit into the bread and immediately began raving and moaning in delight. "This is amazing!" he tried to say with a mouth full of food.

  "You're welcome," she grinned.

  The two stayed only twenty minutes more at the little coffee shop, but the time went by faster than Ava could ever have imagined. She thought that the sight of Walker would make her want to run. She thought she would use any excuse she could to get out of having coffee with him. She thought her mind would be a flood of bad memories. But just the opposite was true.

  She was overwhelmed with good memories. Walker holding doors open, whispered promises in dark back seats, and the warm, inviting love she felt when they were together.

  They were kids then, of course. Kids making bad decisions. Or, she was, anyway.

  But talking to him now was surprisingly easy. She found herself laughing. Not politely laughing for the sake of making their conversation as pleasant as possible. No, she was really laughing.

  Walker said he had to go meet his brother at the fireworks festival outside, and she said she had to meet Tibby. But she could tell he didn’t want to go and to be honest, neither did she.

  He walked her out the front doors, and the cool air hit her face like a wall.

  “It was nice catching up with you,” he said.

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Walker looked like he wanted to say something, but Ava shot it down before he could make a move.

  “I’ll see you around,” she said, giving him a friendly salute before walking out into the night.

  Chapter Five

  Walker

  It had been two days since Walker ran into Ava at the coffee shop and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

  They dated so long ago, but the end of their relationship had always eluded him. He was happy with her. It felt like one minute they were planning their future together, and the next, she was ghosting him, brushing aside the deep connection they had spent years forging to run off and act like a teenager.

  They met in late spring. He had liked a girl named Victoria at the time. She was a thick girl with amazing curves and a great sense of humor. It was a month before graduation, and she was a year younger, but it didn’t deter him from trying pursuing her.

  He and Victoria had been spending time together for a couple of weeks. She knew he liked her but didn’t exactly reciprocate. In retrospect, she probably just liked the attention she was receiving from Walker but never intended to date him.

  Still, each day after school he would meet her at her house, and the two of them would spend an hour or so walking her dog.

  That particular day, the pair were walking her thick-coated golden retriever down Aberdeen Street when he saw Ava storm from her front door with a contraption in her hand.

  “What’s she doing?” Victoria whispered to him, both slowing their pace as they got closer to the girl.

  The girl looked to be in some kind of rage. Her face was red and her eyes were glistening with tears, whether from her anger or from upset, he couldn’t tell.

  They watched as she walked to the side of her house and lifted the contraption over her head. She let out a small scream as she threw it into an oversized black garbage bin, kicking the bin after she was finished.

  Teddy, the golden retriever, was a skittish, nervous dog. He was so startled by the sudden clatter of noise that he took off running, pulling the leash right out of Victoria’s hand.

  Victoria let out a yelp and immediately began running after the dog.

  His crush’s aggravated cry gained Ava’s attention, and she stood, hand on hip, staring at Walker ask though he’d just interrupted a seriously private moment.

  Walker blinked in surprise. He knew he should go after Victoria, but he couldn’t help the pull he felt toward Ava.

  “Toaster?” he asked, nodding down toward whatever she had thrown into the bin.

  “Coffee maker,” she said, sizing him up with a rough smirk.

  Ava was stunning. She had a hard expression, like someone who had something to protect, but her big, expressive brown eyes drew him in immediately.

  “Bad breakup?” he asked.

  Ava cocked her head to the side, annoyed, and stared at him for clarification.

  “With the coffee maker,” he offered. “Things just weren’t working out for the two of you?”

  She looked annoyed but laughed anyway.

  “Yeah, he’s been seeing other coffee mugs. It’s been really hard on me,” she said quickly, smiling at him. “Shouldn’t you be going after your girlfriend there?”

  Ava had brown hair just above her shoulders, a heart-shaped face, and thick lips. She was wearing jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and a loose gray sweater, which she tugged at as she walked up to him.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, and right then and there, he knew he was interested in the rough-and-tumble girl in front of him.

  He’d been obsessed with winning Victoria’s heart for weeks, but one brief exchange with Ava and he had already forgotten all about her. It was a feeling he’d never had again. Not like it was that day. That lightning. POW! And he knew from that moment on, no connection he shared with anyone could be as electric as it was with Ava. This was chemistry. This was magic. This was what everyone said when they talked about ‘love at first sight.’

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Once she got closer to him, it was evident that she had been crying. The rims of her eyes were pink and her face seemed emotionally drained.

  “Yeah,” she said, then quickly corrected, “No. I don't know.”

  “Hey,” he shrugged, trying to sound charming. “Breakups are hard.”

  Ava looked down, her large eyes filled with unwanted tears. “It's my…” she paused, shrugged. “Mom.”

  “Is she okay?” he asked.

  “That answer now, in the past, and probably for the rest of time will be a resounding no,” she quipped.

  As it turned out, after a year of sobriety, her mother had started drinking again. She'd poured vodka in her morning coffee before heading to work. Ava didn't know, since the coffee masked the smell, until Gloria got into a drunk driving accident that morning.

  She knew throwing the coffee maker out wouldn't stop her mother from drinking, but she needed to take her anger out somewhere.

  “She's in the hospital,” Ava explained.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, rubbing at an arm. “That sucks. Is she going to be okay?”

  “I don't know,” she said. “I haven't gone to see her yet.”

  “How come?”

  Ava pointed to the empty driveway beside her house and with a one-shouldered shrug, said, “No car.”

  Walker gave his response only a brief thought before offering to take her to the hospital. To this, Ava said, “You? Why would you take me? And why would I get in a car with you?”

  He smirked. “Dunno. To go and see your mom, I guess?”

  The two walked back to Victoria’s, hopped in his car, and headed off to the hospital. Her mother had three stitches and lots of bruising, and a totaled car against a lamp post.

  The hospital kept her overnight, and he ended up taking Ava out to dinner. She explained her love of film, photography, and explained in a boredly embarrassed fashion about how her mother was a recovering alcoholic.

  When Ava smiled, two dimples formed in her cheeks. Walker had never seen that on a real person before, and he was hooked. He would do anything to make her smile.

  She had a boyfriend at the time, John or Jeff or Jack or some other J name, but it didn’t last long. Soon
, she and Walker were dating.

  Walker hadn’t told Victoria he was leaving that day, nor did he wait for her to find her dog before taking off with Ava. She left a scathing message on his answering machine when he came home that night, and the two didn’t talk after that, which was fine by him. He had a new girl now. He had Ava.

  He regretted not getting her phone number the other day at the coffee shop, though he had found her on Instagram. Her account was more like a portfolio than a public place to post pictures of her life. There were watermarked video clips of various projects she had done and still photography.

  She listed a contact number and work e-mail for potential clients in her profile. He thought briefly about texting her but figured it would be inappropriate since she had specifically listed them for potential clients.

  At the very bottom of her page was a photo of Ava. She was in her usual tight jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was curly and shorter than it was now. She was holding a camera in her hands and appeared to be on a shoot somewhere in the mountains. It was a great shot of her.

  Walker stared at the photo for so long that he knew he had to do something about it.

  “I think running into you was a sign,” he said through an Instagram message.

  He stared down at the message, nervously clutching his phone in his hands. His heart lilted as he saw a tiny ‘seen’ icon come below his message. Ava was online, staring at the same screen he had been staring at.

  “A sign of what ;)?” she asked.

  'That we should hang out sometime,' he wrote.

  The message was received, but Ava didn't answer. Sixty seconds crawled by with agonizing slowness, and Walker bit his lip.

  “Either that or that I need to do a little more PR for my ranch. The stuff you do on here is amazing,” he said.

  “I don't think you could afford me,” she wrote, clearly teasing.

  “Then I guess we're stuck hanging out instead,” he sent.

  She began to write something but deleted her words. She stopped and started twice more before finally saying, “I'm off tomorrow.”

  “Lunch at Sam's?” he wrote. The little diner was famous for their homemade soups and outrageous grilled cheese sandwiches, including but not limited to some of their all-time favorites: apple bacon gouda grilled cheese, taco guacamole, buffalo chicken, spinach and feta, and strawberry, chocolate, and brie. It was their go-to restaurant back when they were dating.