Second Chance (Lake Placid Series Book 1)

by Natalie Ann

  “I would think that’s pretty obvious,” she said, smiling at him.

  The jealousy again, digging him deep. “She’s like a daughter to you?” he asked.

  “You could say that. We’ve come to depend and rely on each other.”

  “You make it sound like no one has been here for you. That’s not true. We’ve wanted you to move to Richmond near us for years.”

  “Never, Nick. You know that. Lake Placid is where my heart is. It’s where I lived with your grandfather and it’s where he is now. I’ll never leave this place. And you don’t have to be jealous over my relationship with Mallory.”

  There was no use denying it; she’d say he was lying and she’d be right. “We would have come and visited you more often if you were lonely.”

  “I’ve never been lonely. But I’ve always had space in my heart for those who needed it. Mallory needed it…she needed me. She needed someone she could count on, someone she could trust, and someone who could teach her to grow up and be a woman. A role model, maybe. She didn’t have that in her life.”

  “You’re talking about her mother now.”

  “We all know Mindy wasn’t there for Mallory. She hadn’t been since Andrew died. Mindy checked out mentally the minute she recovered physically.”

  “She didn’t check out as much as you think. She remarried and moved on with her life.”

  “Marrying Paul didn’t mean she was there for Mallory,” his grandmother said with more bite than Nick had heard in a long time. He wasn’t sure where her anger was coming from. “Enough talk about that. What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to think about things like I always do and then I’ll think some more. When I can wrap my head around it, I’ll move forward.”

  So here he was, two days later, on his way to Mallory’s house. He’d been productive with work in the last two days but not with the situation concerning Mallory.

  Every time he replayed his conversation with Mallory or his grandmother in his head, he only got more frustrated and more confused, so he finally pushed it aside and decided to work.

  Oftentimes work would clear his brain enough and answers would appear for other problems. Almost magically out of thin air. He never questioned it and had learned to go with it. But this time nothing appeared.

  Even spending time researching authors hadn’t helped. He’d thought maybe if he could figure out her pen name he could get an insight into her life, but that proved fruitless. He’d had no leads there.

  He’d checked under Denning, but knew she’d never use that name. The same with Dexter. He even tried any name starting with Mallory, again nothing. So he gave up.

  This time he decided to try another tactic and search her out.

  While walking down the road looking for her house, he started to remember all the things about her from his childhood. How she would play outside by herself on the swing set, and he’d look out his window and see her there alone.

  She’d never come over and ask Rene to come out and play. But when Rene was outside in their own yard, Mallory would look over longingly, almost willing someone to notice she was there, until Rene noticed her and went over on her own.

  He remembered the day Mallory and her parents moved in next door. She must have been around ten then. He never had much to say to people in the neighborhood—then again, most teens didn’t talk to the adults, just with each other while they ran around. But his parents had gone over with a cake to welcome them, dragging him and Rene along.

  Mindy and Andrew were nice people. He remembered that about them. How Andrew held onto Mallory’s hand and pulled her forward to introduce them. How the three of them were always together in the yard playing and cooking, laughing and fooling around.

  He even remembered when Andrew put that bench in the backyard that Mallory always used to sit on and read.

  They looked like the all-American family to anyone on the outside.

  When Andrew died in that horrible accident and Mindy was critically injured, Mallory had been with a babysitter when the police went to their door. His mother had noticed the flashing red lights and went over to see what was going on. He’d watched from the open doorway. Watched as Mallory broke down in tears, falling into a heap on the floor. His mother rushing forward and picking her up, his father shoving him aside to run over, too.

  Not Nick though, he stayed in the doorway and watched Mallory crying, and felt his own heart break for her. Felt his own tears over the devastation he was witnessing.

  He’d never forget that day. So many days in his and Mallory’s life he’d never forget. They were branded together, entwined maybe, like the strongest sailor’s knot.

  He could look at the woman she was now and see someone different on the outside, but on the inside he’d always know and would always remember the little girl that was heartbroken when her home had been torn apart. The teenage girl that looked to him for support and protection. Friendship even, as time went on.

  Was that what she wanted again? What he’d seen from her once before? What he’d given to her so freely…until someone told him he had to stop.

  He hadn’t realized his breathing was labored. He wasn’t walking fast, he wasn’t running, but his heart was racing. All it took was this walk for him to start to piece things together.

  Stopping along the road, he closed his eyes, inhaled the humid air around him, and tried to focus. Look for her house, just keep looking for it, he told himself.

  Another ten minutes, and another two roads turned down, and there it was. The light gray-sided house, and the SUV in the driveway that she’d tried to escape in.

  He marched forward with a purpose in mind. To see if he could find out more. To see if what he just realized on the walk over was true.

  Was she trying to find what he’d given her so many years ago? Was he over-thinking everything and hoping for something that wasn’t there? That maybe only existed in his mind?

  He was about to knock on her front door when he heard music from around back. Changing directions, he headed toward the deck again where he saw her sitting in the shade on a lounge chair, her laptop on her lap, typing away.

  Watching her fingers rapidly fly over the keyboard calmed him. She looked at peace. A peace he hadn’t seen from her yet. Maybe one he hadn’t seen since she was a little girl with her mother and father in the backyard. Suddenly he felt like he wanted to give that to her again.

  She lifted her eyes, sensing his presence. “I didn’t know if I would see you again,” she said softly.

  Was that relief in her expression? It was too hard to tell this far away, but it sounded like it in her voice. “I needed time to process things.”

  He walked forward and watched as she closed the lid on her computer. “Have you? Have you processed things?”

  “Not as much as I would like.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Do you really understand things from my point of view? Can you?”

  “Probably not as much as I would like. Then again, I’m not sure anyone can see things from my point of view either.”

  “Why don’t you give me your point of view?” He threw it down as a challenge but didn’t expect her to take it.

  “I can’t. Not now. But I want to. I realized that. I want to tell you. I want to tell someone. I just don’t know how. I don’t know if I can get the words past my throat.”

  In that moment, he saw the little girl again, the devastation on her face, the fear and the grief, and he was that helpless sixteen-year-old standing back as his parents comforted Mallory, his heart breaking, and wondering how he could make it all better.

  Found Me

  When Mallory realized she wasn’t alone and looked up to see Nick standing there, she wasn’t sure of what she was feeling. Relief, definitely.

  After their talk two days ago, she’d gone home and tried to think of what the next step would be, but nothing was coming to her mind.

  She wasn’t sure why she�
��d offered to be friends with him. Longing maybe? Wanting to find a part of her past. A part that she remembered so fondly, even if it did hurt her in the end.

  But when she hadn’t heard from him the next day, she’d started to fret that it wasn’t going to work out. That he was still too upset over the whole situation…that he was just going to walk away. She would never see him again and he’d go home and tell everyone that he’d found her. And she wouldn’t blame him if he did do any of that.

  Her biggest fear, surprisingly, wasn’t that everyone would find out where she was—it was that she might never see him again.

  Which made no sense since she’d resigned herself to staying hidden and figured she’d never come in contact with Nick or his family again anyway.

  Yet seeing him standing there in shorts and a T-shirt, sweat on his brow from the heat, staring at her, searching her eyes and waiting for her to say something, made her heart pound, her pulse race, and the hair stand up on her arms. Joy, happiness, optimism…maybe? It’d been so long since she’d felt any of those things.

  She hadn’t expected him to process anything and knew it was a stupid question to ask. But that he came looking for her gave her some hope. Something to reach for.

  She’d so desperately wanted to talk to Trixie the last few days, but didn’t dare.

  Trixie was right in that Nick was in a bad place himself, and finding Mallory in town only made it worse. He needed this time with his grandmother and she wouldn’t be selfish and take that from him. She couldn’t take his solace from him just because she was feeling some anxiety. She knew Trixie would be there for her if she needed her. And Nick wouldn’t be here forever.

  “You found my hat?” he said.

  She looked at the railing of her deck where his hat was sitting in the sun, drying out.

  “I saw it floating by the trees when I went out on my kayak this morning.” She had needed to clear her head and being on the lake always did that. When she saw the pop of red against the water’s edge and half on a bush, she’d paddled closer and realized what it was. “I’m sure your sunglasses are long gone on the bottom of the lake, though.”

  “Most likely.” He walked forward and stopped within a few feet of where she was sitting. “Am I interrupting you?”

  “I’m just working.”

  “I don’t always like to be interrupted when I’m elbow deep into coding. I’ve got to imagine writing is the same way.”

  “It can be, but it’ll hold for now.” He continued to look at her, unnerving her more. She wanted to ask why he was here, but didn’t. She remembered that Nick talked when he was ready, and she was letting him do that now. “Can I get you something to drink? You look a little warm.”

  “Water is good. I was out for a walk.”

  She stood up and went into the kitchen and returned with two bottles of water, handing one over. “And your walk led you here?”

  Obviously, and it was a stupid comment on her part, she knew.

  “This was my destination. I knew I’d find you if I looked hard enough.”

  She thought there was a double meaning there but chose to ignore it regardless of the roaring in her ears. “You’ve found me.”

  “I thought about what you said the other day.”

  “What’s that?”

  “About being friends. Or trying to. Trying to trust each other. I want to help you.”

  Her heart was racing now. “Help me how?”

  “Help you find your way again. Help you be the person you used to be. Maybe it will end up helping me in the end too.”

  They hadn’t talked much about his situation. She knew it was off the table. Then again, finding her seemed to take precedence over talk of his canceled wedding.

  “I’ll never be the person I was before I left, and I don’t know that I want to be. But I’d like to find something in life, and whatever it is—whatever I might find—if it helps you, then I want to do that.”

  She wasn’t sure how Nick helping her would somehow aid him. Maybe it was a needed distraction for him, but if they both benefited she was fine with that.

  “I don’t know that either of us will find what we had before. It won’t be the same—we aren’t the same—but we can try, right?” he asked.

  “We can. What’s the next step?”

  He opened the water bottle finally, took a big gulp, then lowered it, his expression more relaxed. His eyes almost laughing at her. “My grandmother told me you like to plan it all out. I guess we’re both like that. Why not try something different? No plans, no agenda, just handle what comes next. It seems to me that might be happening a lot anyway.”

  She was surprised Trixie had said that much to him about her. Trixie had always told her when the time came, she’d stay out of it, she’d let Mallory take charge of coming forward…if she decided to do it.

  “What else did Trixie say to you?”

  “Not much. You know how loyal she is. She said I had to hear it from you, so that’s what I want to do.”

  “When are you going home?”

  She wasn’t sure why she asked that, but part of her wanted to know. If he was leaving in a few days, well, that wasn’t enough time for her to come clean, not that she was even sure she was going to. It was hard to lay it all on the line after keeping a secret for twelve years.

  “When I get the answers I want.”

  That was direct enough, and yet no answer at all. “You might be here for a long time,” she said, smiling at him, trying not to stress and worry that he would say he couldn’t do it.

  “I’ve got enough of it. Like you, I can work anywhere. If I need to leave for work, I will, but I’ll be back.”

  I’ll be back. It was exactly what she needed to hear. “Now what?”

  He drained the rest of his bottle of water and set it on the table. She hadn’t even opened hers. She’d just been holding it like a prop, something to stop her from wringing her hands together.

  “Let’s go to lunch.”

  “Lunch?”

  “Yeah. I’m hungry and it’s too hot for you to put something together for me…and I’m not much use in the kitchen myself. So if you aren’t busy, let’s go into town and get something to eat.”

  It was an easy enough offer and there was no reason to say no.

  “Okay. Let me just put my laptop in the house and get my keys.” She turned to walk in the house, only to find him right on her heels. “Where are you going?”

  “In your house with you. Why? Is there a problem? Are you hiding dead bodies in here?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

  She started to look around the house when she stepped into the kitchen. Tried to see what he would see, if there were any clues to her time here. Any clues to who she was, but there was nothing. At least not in her kitchen. She’d have to go through the rest of her house though and look, then put anything away. Anything she wasn’t willing to let be known until she was ready.

  Grabbing her keys off the hook, she turned to the back door again and pulled it open.

  “Not going to go out your front door? Is it locked?”

  There was no way she was letting him walk through her house to the front. Not yet. “It’s always locked, don’t worry.”

  “You don’t keep your car in the garage?” he asked when they’d walked around the house and he climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV.

  “Not always. I like people to know there is someone home. If it’s in the garage then it looks as if the house might be empty. In the winter, though, I store it in the garage.”

  “Do you miss the warm weather of Richmond?”

  “Not really.” He didn’t say another word as she pulled out of her driveway and drove away from the lake. After five minutes, she asked, “Anything special you’re in the mood to eat?”

  “Wherever you think is good.”

  She debated driving to a quieter restaurant, one that would be out of the way and probably have less foot traffic, but then decid
ed that might encourage more conversation. Conversation she would rather not have in public. In the end, she went where she knew it would be slightly busy, but the noon rush would be over.

  She parked in the public parking, put her money in the slot for a two-hour ticket and figured that should be enough. Then together they walked across the street to the restaurant overlooking Mirror Lake, just at the end of the main drag.

  Once seated, the waitress came over and stopped dead in her tracks. “Mallory, what are you doing in town in the middle of the week? This is twice now! Are you on vacation?”

  Crap. It never occurred to her that she would run into someone here. “Quinn, what are you doing working here? When did you start?”

  “Last week. That’s what I was going to tell you when I saw you and wanted to have drinks. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll catch you up.”

  She’d totally forgotten about Quinn’s invitation for drinks. She’d been too preoccupied with everything going on in her life.

  “I’ll let you know. Nick Buchanan, this is Quinn Baker. Quinn, Nick.” She hesitated on how to introduce him and finally went with the truth. “He’s a childhood friend.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Nick said, extending his hand.

  “Oh, listen to that soft accent. Where are you from?” Quinn asked, smiling and taking in the sight of Nick. Mallory was trying not to get jealous, but she couldn’t help it. Not that she was concerned over anything. Mallory hadn’t known of any man Quinn had been seen with. Having only been in town a year, Quinn pretty much kept to herself, much like Mallory.

  “I’m from Richmond.”

  “Are you on vacation?” Quinn asked politely while she flipped her pad open and pulled her pen out.

  “Visiting my grandmother.”

  “Trixie is Nick’s grandmother,” Mallory explained.

  “Oh,” Quinn said, frowning. “You’ve never said anything about Trixie’s family before. Actually I didn’t even know you were from Richmond. You don’t have an accent.”