Second Chance (Lake Placid Series Book 1) Read online

  Yeah, he did, she knew that, and she knew him well. She kissed him on the cheek. “Come on in. You look like hell. Let me get you something to eat or drink at the very least.”

  “Thanks. I drove through the night, so I’m beat. Coffee would be good.”

  “No coffee for you,” she said firmly. “It will only keep you up. You need to sleep. I’ll make you a sandwich. We can chat while you eat, then you can bring your stuff to your old room and take a nap.”

  He smiled. She was still bossing him around and he didn’t mind in the least. This was why he came.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, knowing she would swat her hand at him.

  She did, then said what she always did, “Don’t ma’am me. I’m not Southern. If you can’t call me Grandma, then call me Trixie.”

  “You know I can’t call you Trixie without laughing.”

  There was something about the name Trixie—short for Beatrice—that made him think of prostitutes working a street corner or turning tricks, and his grandmother knew it.

  He’d once slipped and told her that when he was in his teens. She’d laughed so hard at him then, and whenever she knew he was down or needed a laugh, she’d tell him to call her Trixie, knowing he couldn’t.

  “Have a seat on the couch then, and I’ll go make you some lunch.”

  So he did what he was told and sat on the couch in her living room, then looked around. The house hadn’t changed much since he was a kid. A few new pieces of furniture but not much more. The same light blue paint on the walls, the same hardwood floors, and the same big brick fireplace.

  He was always at peace here. Always so relaxed. It was no wonder he ended up here, or that his grandmother had expected him.

  Less than two minutes later, she brought him out a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and glass of milk. The same thing she’d fed him for years on his first day of a visit.

  He wanted to remind her he was thirty-two, not twelve, but didn’t. He just picked the sandwich up and took a healthy bite, then a big swig of milk.

  “So tell me what’s on your mind,” she said.

  “Not much. I just need a breather. Can I stay here and work for a bit?”

  “You can stay as long as you like. You know that. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop worrying about me. Kendra is the one everyone should be asking about. I’m just the jerk that canceled the wedding.”

  “You aren’t a jerk, Nick. If you didn’t love her, then you didn’t. You can’t force yourself to feel something for someone just because you want it. It’s there or it’s not.”

  “It wasn’t there,” he said sadly. “I tried, I wanted it, but I couldn’t do it. She didn’t deserve to be led on the way she was. I thought having her as my wife would help. I thought she could put me on track, personally and professionally, but that was wrong and selfish of me to think that.”

  “You didn’t lead her on, Nick,” his grandmother argued.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that isn’t who you are. Leading her on would have been if you actually went through with the wedding even knowing you couldn’t give her what she wanted. She pursued you, and we all knew it. But deep down she isn’t the one for you, and we all know that, too.”

  “I thought I wanted the same thing she did. I guess I do, but I don’t want it with her. Maybe I’ll never find the person to have it with. Maybe that person isn’t out there anymore.”

  He’d had it once and threw it away. That was his biggest regret. Trying to find it with someone else only fed that guilt and regret more.

  “Thinking and knowing are two different things. Be thankful you called it off now instead of trying to fix a mistake later down the road. Time will heal everyone.”

  “I guess.” But time still hadn’t healed him. “Why do you keep looking in the kitchen? Are you expecting someone? A hot date?” he asked, joking.

  Though the thought of some older gentleman calling on his dear old granny was making the sandwich turn in his stomach, he couldn’t understand why she was acting so antsy.

  “No, I’m not expecting a hot date. You know better than that. Us Millers love only once. I lost my love twenty years ago. No one will ever replace your grandfather. And you know your mother and father were just meant to be. My Susan always knew who she wanted and who she loved, and she chose well with your father. So I’m thinking you Buchanans are the same.”

  “Not me though, right? I didn’t do a good job of choosing.”

  “You haven’t chosen yet, so don’t say that.”

  He didn’t believe it though. Or maybe his grandmother was right. Maybe he was destined to have one soulmate and he’d lost her. Maybe he’d never find another.

  “I guess time will tell. But for now, I’m going to get my clothes out of my car and go take a shower, then sleep. Don’t let me sleep too long. Wake me for dinner and I can take my best girl out for taking such good care of me.”

  “You always were a charmer. I’ll let you do that.”

  ***

  Mallory Denning rushed down the hill toward the dock and her waiting kayak, holding her breath the entire way. She didn’t even waste the time to put her life vest on…just threw it on top of the kayak, climbed in, pushed away fast, and headed back toward her own house a mile away.

  She normally visited Trixie a few times a week and today was no different. She’d been stuck on work and needed some fresh air. Trixie always helped her get through it and relaxed her enough to get back on track.

  But when she opened the back door, she’d heard Trixie talking. She stood back a few feet in the kitchen to see if Trixie had company or was on the phone.

  Then she heard another voice. A male voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in almost twelve years. It was manlier now, but she still recognized it. The voice of her past, the voice of her dreams, the voice of her first love.

  The voice of the boy—no, man now—who broke her heart.

  Trixie always told her when family was coming for a visit. A forewarning for Mallory to stay away. To not be seen by anyone on the lake or in town when they were here.

  It was always inconvenient to hide for weeks on end, but she was used to it by now.

  Why hadn’t Trixie told her Nick was coming? She wondered what he was doing here. She knew all about his upcoming wedding and how it ended. Trixie always kept her informed, even though Mallory didn’t ask and didn’t want to know.

  That was a life she’d put behind her and she didn’t need it to be relived. Part of the reason she still hid. No one from her past knew she was alive. No one knew anything but Trixie.

  Still, she’d have to find a way to talk to Trixie and see how long Nick planned on being in town. She wasn’t prepared to stay in her house long. Since she’d overheard Nick was going to shower and take a nap, she figured she better run into town and stock up on food and anything else she needed now and not risk being seen.

  What could he be doing here? Why did he have to come? And why did she have to hear his voice?

  It would be exactly twelve years in a week since she’d left Richmond. She’d thought she’d done a great job hiding all this time.

  Now Mallory was worried this unexpected trip of Nick’s might unbalance her. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt it deep in her soul.

  Her world was going to be turned upside down once again.

  Fear Was Fear

  Mallory pulled her kayak on her dock, tossed her life vest next to it, and raced toward her house.

  Stop and breathe, she told herself, only she couldn’t seem to make her body respond.

  Fear of being found was causing her to tremble. It didn’t matter she was stronger now as an adult. It didn’t matter she wasn’t a scared child anymore. Fear was fear, and this was the closest she’d ever come to being discovered.

  In the past, she’d had time to prepare for visits from the Buchanans. Time to get her mind to relax, and for her past to stay hidde
n.

  It didn’t even matter that she always wanted to see Nick’s parents, Susan or John, when they visited. Or even Rene, when she thought of how the two of them played together growing up.

  Then there was Nick. The first boy she’d kissed, the first boy she’d had a crush on, and the one she’d thought she loved.

  Only he didn’t love her in return. He only broke her heart and sent her away. Left her in the house with her mother and stepfather to face a horrible future alone.

  And that fear of her childhood forced her to stay locked away from anyone from her past.

  Everyone but Trixie.

  Deep breath again, slow and steady. Don’t panic. Don’t have an anxiety attack. It was years ago, and you’re good now, she reminded herself.

  Opening the back door, she heard her phone go off in the other room and ran for it. She never bothered to carry it when she was on the water; no one really needed to get in touch with her in a hurry.

  When she picked it up, she saw it was Trixie calling. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” Mallory said in a rush.

  “I didn’t know, sweetie. He just showed up. I heard you open the back door and thought for sure he did too, but he didn’t.”

  That was something at least. “How long is he staying?”

  “I don’t know. I told him he could stay as long as he liked. Stop groaning, Mallory. You’re a grown woman. You can’t let the past keep holding you back any longer, or stay locked in fear. No one can touch you or bother you now. At some point, you’re going to have to let people know you’re alive.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Trixie sighed heavily. “I know. But it was a long time ago. He has no control over you. You know that.”

  Mallory waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to remember it. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to continue to live the life I’ve had the last twelve years.”

  “Mallory, what kind of life is that? One of hiding?”

  “It’s not the time, Trixie,” Mallory said, cutting Trixie off. She’d heard the lecture before. “I owe you my life and you know it. But right now I need to get through this visit with Nick in town.”

  “One of these days I’m not going to cover for you,” Trixie said. “Nick is my grandson. And though I love you like my own daughter, you’re going to have to come to terms with things soon. It’s gone on long enough. Longer than it ever should have.”

  “I know. I will. But not now.”

  “Just be prepared, Mallory. He might be here a while.”

  Mallory felt her breathing increase. “Why?”

  “He’s not in a good place right now. I can’t turn him away. He needs me almost as much as you did all those years ago.”

  Mallory wanted to ask more, but she couldn’t. Part of her didn’t want to know. Part of her didn’t want to feel all those things she’d convinced herself she stopped feeling so many years ago.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you in the middle. I’m going to run out and stock up on supplies now while I can.”

  She heard Trixie’s deep sigh through the phone but chose to ignore it. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mallory. It’s best you don’t call. I don’t always have my phone on me, and I’d hate for Nick to see your name come up on the screen. You know how to reach me if you need anything.”

  Mallory felt her eyes fill with tears. She hated not being able to contact Trixie, but Trixie was right. It was best she didn’t call.

  If she needed Trixie, she’d send a text from a burner phone with a message reading “you’ve won.” She’d only had to do that once in all the years she was hiding when the Buchanans visited. When she’d been sick and Trixie was worried about her.

  Placing her phone on the counter, Mallory went around the house checking on what she needed, then grabbed her keys and drove into town.

  She pulled in front of the grocery store and rushed forward. She didn’t need to hurry but felt better doing so, just in case.

  “Mallory.” She heard her name called and turned to see Quinn Baker standing there.

  She’d met Quinn about a year ago in a yoga class. Quiet like her, Quinn stayed in the back and out of sight, never talking much and never making eye contact.

  Maybe it was the fact that Mallory saw some of herself in Quinn that she’d approached her back then. Quinn had looked like she could use a friend, and Mallory was short in the friend category herself.

  “Hey, Quinn. Not working today?” Quinn was a line cook at a restaurant on the water.

  “I’m going in soon. Just running a few errands. What about you? You don’t normally come to town in the middle of the day. Playing hooky?”

  No one in town knew what she did for a living besides Trixie. Not even Quinn, the one true friend she’d had in years.

  Everyone thought she was Mallory Dexter, insurance adjuster, which was the furthest thing from Mallory’s actual career.

  She was a popular young adult mystery author. If it weren’t for Trixie and her contacts, Mallory had no clue what career she would have had. It wasn’t like she could go to college since she didn’t have the money or any means to get a loan. Not without her mother or stepfather finding her.

  “I took some personal time. It’s a beautiful day.”

  “And on this beautiful day, you decided to come to the grocery store. You’ve got issues, Mallory,” Quinn said, letting out a giggle that only Mallory seemed to be privy to receiving.

  Quinn didn’t know the half of it. “What can I say? I guess my priorities aren’t straight.” Yep, there was a double meaning there, but Quinn was clueless as to it.

  “Well, I’m on a time crunch myself. How about we get together for drinks tomorrow night?”

  “I’d love to, but I’m kind of backed up with work. Maybe next week?”

  Mallory hoped by then Nick would be gone and she could venture out again.

  “Sure, sounds good. I’ll touch base with you then.”

  Mallory watched Quinn walk away toward the back of the store while she grabbed a cart and started filling it full of food and supplies at random, hoping she wouldn’t need half of what she was putting in there.

  ***

  Nick felt himself floating through the dream. The same dream he’d been having for months.

  He was in his tux at the altar waiting for Kendra to walk down the aisle toward him. He was nervous and anxious but tried to convince himself it was fine. That it was completely normal to have pre-wedding jitters.

  Only they weren’t jitters—they’d never been that.

  But in his dream, he thought they were the jitters and continued to stand there as Kendra made her way toward him with her father on her arm. The two of them stopped in front of Nick, but when Kendra’s father lifted the bride’s veil it wasn’t Kendra standing there. It was Mallory.

  The same long blonde hair he remembered from years ago. The same blue eyes staring at him, looking and wondering. Wondering what he was thinking. Could she tell how much he still felt for her? Could she tell how much he regretted hurting her? He’d had no choice. He hadn’t wanted to say what he did, or do what he had, but someone else was controlling the show.

  Someone else was threatening everything that meant so much to him, leaving him no choice.

  He reached for Mallory in that wedding gown, the same way he did the day he’d told her they were only friends. And even then, loose ones at that. That he shouldn’t have kissed her and that she thought more of him than he did of her.

  The tears in her eyes back then were the same as they were in his dream right now—standing there in that wedding gown, staring at him. Pleading with him not to say that, that he didn’t really mean it. And she was right, he hadn’t meant it, but he had to say it and he had to sound convincing. It was better that way.

  He woke up with a start, his heart racing, sweat on his brow and his hands damp and shaking.

  That damn dream had been the last straw. The final nail in the coffin th
at ended up confirming what he always knew.

  He couldn’t marry Kendra. He didn’t love her. He would never love her the way he should love his wife. And he couldn’t bear to hurt another woman the way he’d hurt Mallory.

  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he decided to take another shower and clear his head.

  He picked up his phone on the bedside table and noted that he’d only been sleeping three hours. Better than nothing, he figured.

  He walked over to his suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes, then made his way into the bathroom.

  Twenty minutes later, with his head much clearer, he marched downstairs in search of his grandmother. He found her in the kitchen baking.

  “Are you making a wild berry pie?”

  “It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

  “You know it is.”

  “Then that’s what I’m making.” She stopped and glanced at the clock on the wall. “I thought you’d still be sleeping. It’s just four.”

  “I woke up and decided to shower and put my stuff away.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her about the dream. He’d never told anyone he still dreamed about Mallory. That he’d never had any closure and didn’t know if he ever would.

  Until then, he would always wonder if he could move on. Was it what he said to Mallory all those years ago that caused her to leave in the middle of the night? Did she leave on her own? No one knew.

  Some thought she was kidnapped. Others thought she ran away, since some of her clothing was missing.

  Regardless of what happened to her, he’d always blame himself for playing a part in it. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he didn’t have to be so harsh; maybe he didn’t need to say what he did to her.

  “Are you okay?” his grandmother asked him.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You don’t look good. You’re too pale for me right now. Spending too much time indoors working. You need a little bit of color. Why don’t you go sit on the deck and I’ll bring you a drink.”

  He walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “You don’t need to wait on me, Grandma. I’m capable of getting myself a drink.” He opened the fridge and pulled the lemonade out and filled a glass. “But I will go sit on the deck and look out at the water.”