Second Chance Read online

  Before she’d taken off, she’d said, “She’s too good for you!”

  “If you’re talking about Thea—” he’d begun.

  “No. I’m talking about the alcohol. Use your brain, dummy.”

  “—you’re right.”

  He’d messed up. He’d messed up badly, and he could think of no way to fix it.

  Thea was a smart girl, brilliant, and she’d done what was best for her. How could he have gotten angry about something like that? He should always want what was best for her, whether that meant moving to the city or staying here and chasing storms. More than that, he should have done everything in his power to become the best. Anything for her, because she was everything to him.

  He’d lamented about Thea putting storms first, but hadn’t he put his fears before her? He’d told himself he’d beaten the fear of losing her, that he was only being practical, but as Thea and Holly had said, his actions had proved otherwise.

  He’d been a total asshole. And why? Because he’d tasted rejection, blaming everyone but himself.

  Brock, who sat beside him, signaled for another round. “Go ahead. Drink up. Learn what your life will be like if you continue on this path.”

  Jude, who sat on his other side, watching with unreadable eyes, finally piped up. “Who called?”

  “Holly. She’s going to bury me.” He told his friends about Thea’s trip.

  “That…can’t be right,” Jude replied, and scratched his chest. “She wouldn’t leave you.”

  “Well, she is, and I deserve it. My dad was right. My head has been up my ass.”

  Brock patted his shoulder. “It’s still there, buddy, or you’d already be at the inn.”

  Frowning, Jude stood. “If you’ll excuse me…” He walked away. Women smiled coquettishly at him, and men stepped away from him. He ignored them both and pressed his phone to his ear, making a call.

  Daniel drained his next whiskey. “Thea liked me. Might have even loved me.”

  “So she doesn’t have very good taste. So what?”

  Daniel glared at him. “She has perfect everything.”

  His friend held up his hands, palms out, all innocence.

  The bar was crowded tonight, filled to the brim with out-of-towners. In the morning, they’d visit the festival, which would be raging the entire weekend. They would have fun, and they wouldn’t know or care that he had lost the love of his life.

  “Well, I declare. Daniel Porter.” Nails traced up his back. “Is that really you?”

  He turned to frown at a pretty blonde and flipped through his mental files. She looked familiar, yes, but still he couldn’t place her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t…”

  Laughing, she waved a hand through the air. “I’m Madison. Madison Clark.”

  The cheerleader from high school? The one Thea had seen him making out with inside the band room? “Madison Clark. Of course.” Her skin was sun-kissed, but she was thin, too thin. Like the women he used to date. Skin and bones without the softness he’d come to crave.

  “I’m in town for the festival.” Her hand fluttered to her shoulder, the hand that would have borne a ring if she’d been married. “I come every year, but this is the first time I’ve seen you. And to think, I was actually going to skip this one. I didn’t want to risk any more bad weather, but now I’m so glad I continued the tradition.”

  Had she been kind to Thea or had she been one of her tormentors?

  Tormentors, he thought, remembering the day Harlow had threatened Thea with whipped cream. Madison had laughed as Thea had blushed.

  He stared at her, never uttering a word.

  “Come over here and meet me,” Brock said to her. “He’s a mean drunk, but I’m a very, very nice one. I’m also eternally single, so you’ll never have to worry about one of my exes. A word of warning, though. I have no respect for women or men or anyone, not even myself. But damn if we won’t have fun together.”

  She looked between them before arching a brow in Brock’s direction. “You’re one of those bad boys my momma warned me about, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, honey. I’m the baddest.”

  “Well, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  “How about a dance, then?” Before leading her off, Brock leaned over to whisper to Daniel, “You owe me.”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like Brock was really suffering. Daniel drained another glass of whiskey.

  Jude returned as a wave of dizziness rolled through him.

  “I’m spinning,” Daniel told him.

  “You’re also going to spend the rest of your life without Dorothea. Tomorrow she’s going on vacation with her friends, and she’s going to find herself a new man. A palate cleanser, I guess you could say. And when she returns, she’s going to start over with a clean slate. You’ll be nothing but a distant memory.”

  “I’m no one’s memory,” he snapped, hating the thought of Thea with anyone else.

  “You’re no one’s prize, either,” Jude said.

  Bastard. “I’m strong. A natural-born protector.”

  “So are others.”

  He scowled at his friend. No, his former friend. “I’m handsome.” Thea had said so. Had said he was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

  “Physical beauty fades.”

  “I’m…” What? Honorable? Kind? Loyal? Brave? Not even close. And those were the things that mattered. They were the things he wanted in his woman. The things Thea already was.

  Damn it. He needed to get out of here. He jumped to his feet, the chair falling behind him. Despite the music playing in the background, he heard a loud thud. The people around him leaped out of the way.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” a familiar voice growled. The ex-husband. “First you break Dorothea’s heart, then you hit me with a chair.”

  “What are you doing here?” Daniel demanded.

  “Holly called me. Said—”

  “Move along.” Jude stepped in front of the guy, his body vibrating with oncoming rage. If he gave in to that rage…bad things would happen.

  Weatherman must not have sensed the danger. He stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere. I came here to tell you how badly you’ve messed up.”

  Daniel remained in place, his hands fisting. “How badly I messed up?”

  Weatherman added, “You’re just like me, you know.”

  “I never cheated on her, and I never will. I would rather die.”

  “What you did was worse. You had her heart, something I never did, and you stomped on it.”

  With a roar, Daniel leaped over the table. His fist connected with Weatherman’s nose, and blood spurted. But Weatherman didn’t yelp or run away. He threw a punch of his own, and Daniel’s brain banged into his skull, a loud ring erupting in his ears.

  As the ring quieted, he heard Jude say “—next one will cost you.”

  “No,” Daniel said. Both he and Weatherman deserved a beating for the way they’d treated Thea. “I’ve got this.”

  “You don’t have anything but a bleak future,” Weatherman snapped. “Trust me. I know.”

  “Shut up if you want to live through this,” Brock snapped. He must have abandoned Madison and raced over.

  “Too late. He’s got to die.” Once again, Daniel threw himself at Jazz. They punched and kicked at each other, falling over tables and chairs. Glass shattered. They rolled across the floor, and sharp pains cut across his back.

  Cheers reverberated. He continued to punch and kick, but he was having trouble seeing. His coordination was off, he realized, punching nothing but air. He had warm fluid in his eyes—blood?—and wiped his face with a throbbing hand.

  Weatherman was…being held down by Jude.

  “Let him go.” Daniel stomped over, or tried to.
Brock wrapped strong arms around him and forced him to the floor.

  He reclined there, the rage burning out of him until he was nothing but a panting, bleeding husk with a racing mind.

  Thea was the best thing to ever happen to him, and she was right. He hadn’t fought for her.

  Nothing mattered more than her, and yet he’d allowed fear to direct his steps and order his path. He’d been so worried about losing her that he hadn’t done anything to keep her.

  He’d told her he wanted her and had thought he’d laid himself bare for her. As bare as she’d been the night she’d come to his room and dropped her coat. But he hadn’t. Not really. He’d kept the armor around his heart, and she’d known it. She’d had compassion in her eyes, and it had finally begun to crack. He was shamed. He’d sent her away that first night with harsh words and the fresh sting of rejection, yet she had offered him forgiveness and sweetness and everything right in a world gone wrong. And still he’d done nothing to keep her.

  As a teen, he’d seen a glimpse of her worth when she’d stood before Harlow, her head held high. He’d told her, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. And she had been. She was. But he’d still focused his attention on other girls. Girls who would sleep with him. Girls who would never be part of his future. Easily had, easily forgotten. Just a bit of fun. But fun like that never lasted.

  Since his return, he’d stuck to the same pattern, looking for distractions. But he didn’t need distractions. He needed Thea. She was his safe place. His light. She chased away the darkness.

  If he couldn’t be the right man, he didn’t deserve the right woman.

  He’d tried to fit her in the same box. First, temporary. Then permanent but only on his terms. Well, no more. Thea was the right woman. The only woman. He still wasn’t worthy of her, and he still deserved to lose her, but he wasn’t going to lie down and accept what he deserved. Not anymore. He was going to fight for what he wanted. Finally. He was going to be the right man.

  “I have to go to her. Have to win her.”

  “Hallelujah.” Brock helped him sit up and patted his shoulder. “I will help you win her, but first I’m going to take you to the hospital. You’re bleeding—everywhere.”

  “No. No.” He shook his head, and dizziness returned with a vengeance. His jaw hurt. “Have to…inn…go.”

  Darkness joined the dizziness and, with a single yank, managed to pull him into the abyss. He knew nothing more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  HER CAR WOULDN’T START.

  Dorothea’s bags were stuffed in the trunk, right beside Ryanne’s and Lyndie’s. They had been ready to go for the past hour.

  Her mom and Holly hovered in front of the inn, throwing out advice as she stared under the hood at machinery she couldn’t identify.

  “Maybe it’s the rotator cuff?” Carol suggested.

  “Or the thingamabob. You know, the thing with circles,” Holly said.

  Ryanne and Lyndie stood beside her family, offering equally useless advice.

  Lyndie: “Tell the car you love her. She’ll stop trying to punish you.”

  Ryanne: “Tell the car to RIP. Because she’s dead. Forever.”

  Ryanne could rebuild an engine—and had! If she said the car was dead, it was dead. And yet neither girl offered the use of her own car. Did they not want to go on this freebie vacation?

  “You sure Brad Lintz wasn’t at the auto shop?” she asked. Since he and his girlfriend had broken up a few weeks ago, he’d been living there. According to local gossip, he hadn’t left more than twice.

  “I’m sure,” Holly said. “I looked everywhere, even shouted his name.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll wait until he returns, and you’ll use the time to make sure you packed everything you need.” Carol wiped her hands together in a job well done. “I’m certain you don’t have enough clothes.”

  “I plan to eat my weight in dessert,” she replied. “I don’t need anything but a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.”

  “What about a swimsuit?” Holly asked. “How are you going to seduce the pool boy if you don’t take a swimsuit?”

  “If I decide to go swimming, I can buy—”

  “Well, look who’s talking like she’s Miss Richie Rich.” Carol tossed her arms up in exasperation. “Buying a new swimsuit when you have a perfectly good old one?”

  What the heck was going on?

  “What about snacks?” Lyndie asked, joining the madness. “A road trip isn’t a road trip without snacks.”

  “Funny, but you failed to mention the importance of snacks before now,” Dorothea grated.

  A pause. Then her friend blurted out, “Blood sugar!”

  Seriously? “You don’t have low blood sugar.”

  Ryanne frowned at her. “I can’t believe you can be so cavalier about a possible medical condition our friend may or may not have developed late in life.”

  All right. Dorothea’d had enough. “What’s going on?”

  Holly looked at the screen of her phone, and her shoulders rolled in. “It’s seven freaking o’clock.”

  “I know!” Dorothea had been ready to leave right at six, as commanded, but first Lyndie had claimed to have a case of that “raging diarrhea you once experienced, remember? I bet you were contagious.”

  Dorothea had replied, “Contagious…several weeks ago? Even though I never had it?”

  Her friend had responded with “Some germs need time to incubate. And you could have been a carrier and just not have known it.” Then she’d spent the next fifteen minutes in the bathroom.

  The street and sidewalk were filling as people arrived to man their booths at the festival, which would kick off in about an hour. If they weren’t gone before then, they wouldn’t be leaving until tomorrow.

  Gasps of horror suddenly rang out, and the growing crowd parted.

  “Out of my way,” a familiar voice demanded. “Out of my way!”

  Daniel?

  Relief radiated from her family and friends.

  “Daniel,” she whispered, horrified. He wore a bloodstained hospital gown, some of that blood fresh, wetting the paper-thin material. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there were knots and bruises all over his face. His knuckles were cracked and scabbed, and there was an IV tube hanging from the inside of his elbow.

  His desperate gaze landed on her. “Don’t go,” he said, his voice ragged. “Please.” He stopped in front of her car. “I’m not letting you go. Or if you do go, I’m following. My place is with you. You are my home, and I’m fighting for you.”

  She took a step toward him, only to go still. No matter how much she wanted to comfort him, she couldn’t give him false hope. “What happened to you?”

  “A little skirmish at the bar. It’s not important.” His gaze moved to Ryanne. “I’ll pay for damages.”

  “You’re danged right you will,” Ryanne said, but she didn’t sound upset. She sounded relieved.

  A skirmish? Dorothea took another step, stilled. “Are you okay?”

  “Not yet, but I will be. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” He wavered with more dynamism. The wildest part? Despite his weakness, he was still a force to be reckoned with. “I woke up in a hospital room with Jude and Brock at my side, but not you. I only wanted you. I only want you.”

  Hospital? Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Maybe you should return.”

  “I love you, Thea.”

  She licked her lips. “Don’t do this. I can’t—”

  “I love you. I love you so much it’s a sickness inside me. No, no, that’s not true. It’s the only thing that’s healing me from the sickness I’ve carried for far too long.”

  She swallowed the lump growing in her throat and looked around. Her mom and sister were
grinning. Ryanne and Lyndie were crying. This was actually happening?

  “You deserved an apology before. After the storm,” he continued. “I didn’t give it to you then. I gave you one yesterday, but for all the wrong reasons. I was sorry you’d left me. Sorry I missed you so much. Sorry I couldn’t function without you. The truth is, I’m sorry I allowed fear to lead me. I’m so sorry, love. I fought my feelings for you when I should have fought to keep you.”

  She had to swallow again.

  “If you want to chase storms, I’ll be your driver. If you don’t want me to be your driver, I’ll have a hot meal waiting for you at home. If you want to move to the city, I’ll move with you. There are no conditions to my love. I will love you even if you hate me. I will love you forever. If you decide to take a chance on me—and I’m begging you to take a chance—we can adopt as many kids as we want. I’m on board for a big family.”

  Her hand fluttered to her throat, where emotion continued to coagulate. Resist him. She had to resist him. “The future will never be assured. What happens when your fears come back?”

  “I’m sure they will, but we will fight them. Together. And we will win. You will always and forever be my prize. My life isn’t right without you.”

  Dang him! He was telling her everything she’d ever wanted to hear.

  Resist?

  “I love you, Dorothea Valentina Mathis, and I want you now and always. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving just how much you mean to me. I’m not worthy of you,” he said. “I know this, but I’m going to do everything in my power to change that. I’m going to fight for you, every day, in every way.”

  “Say yes,” someone shouted. Another voice she recognized. The crowd was still gathered around them, though Dorothea had somehow been oblivious; they parted, revealing a smiling Virgil.