Once More Chance (Chance #2; Rosemary Beach #8)

by Abbi Glines

  “You left without me,” I said as I took the next few steps in her direction. Her toes peeped up and touched the stream of running water from the faucet.

  “I wanted you to enjoy yourself,” she said softly.

  “Not possible if you’re not with me,” I said, then sat down on the edge of the tub so I was closer to her eye level.

  “You’ll get your tux wet,” she said with a concerned frown.

  “Not worried about the tux. I’m worried about you.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet my eyes. “I’m fine. I was just tired, and all those people just became too much.”

  Just like I had known. She would never tell me what she had heard. She was either embarrassed or worried that I would think she was pushing me into marriage, into something I didn’t want. I wasn’t sure which, but I knew her well enough to know that it was one or the other.

  Forcing her to tell me wouldn’t help her. I just had to prove to her that what those catty girls had said wasn’t true. I had already been thinking about a ring and how to ask her. I was scared to push her too far too fast. She didn’t need any extra stress. But it wasn’t like I wasn’t thinking about it. I hadn’t bought this house for her to be a live-in girlfriend—I had bought it for us. Harlow, Lila Kate, and me. This was our home.

  I thought she understood all that. But then, I also knew how vicious those girls could be, and if they were at all convinced of what they were saying, then it would sound pretty damn convincing to Harlow. I’d thought that shoving Bailey off me and telling Nan that my relationship with Harlow wasn’t her business would be the worst parts of my night. I’d been wrong. Harlow being upset was by far the worst.

  “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I just needed to get away and rest.”

  I brushed the hair that had fallen from her topknot out of her face. “I love you,” I told her.

  “I love you, too.”

  But I knew that wasn’t enough. I had to prove to her just how much.

  My sweet Lila Kate,

  I’ve bought you more clothes than you’ll ever wear. I’ve folded them and refolded them a million times. I keep making sure your little dresses are hanging properly in your closet and that you have shoes to match every outfit. Silly things that a baby wouldn’t care about. But it gives me something to do while I wait for you.

  I’m also making you a scrapbook with pictures of your daddy and me. There are even some with the three of us. I love the one where your daddy has his hand resting on my stomach. It’s like he’s holding you, too. Your daddy hired a photographer to come to the house and take photos of us yesterday—a surprise for me. We now have the most wonderful family photos in all my favorite parts of the house.

  Actually, the swing under the tree is my favorite part of the house, and I can say I got to swing you on it first. I have photographic proof of that, too. It’s the picture on the cover of your scrapbook. You’ll recognize it right away.

  One day, I imagine sitting outside with you on our porch and looking through this book. I expect it to be well worn with love over the years. You’ll get to see just how much love you were brought into this world with.

  But if I’m not there with you and you’re looking through this scrapbook with your daddy or alone, know that I created each page with love. I was happier than I had ever been, and my life was complete.

  Love you always,

  Mommy

  Harlow

  I sealed the latest envelope and wrapped the thick stack of letters in a pink satin ribbon. I still had eight weeks of pregnancy left and would add more letters, but so far, I had written one to Lila Kate for each birthday and Christmas until she turned twenty-one, for her first day of kindergarten, her high school graduation, her wedding day, the birth of her first child, and her thirtieth birthday. Just in case I wasn’t there, I wanted to leave a part of me with her. If I’d only had a part of my own mother growing up . . . I would have traded anything for it. At least Lila Kate would have that if she didn’t have me.

  I picked up the other stack of letters I had written. They were all to Grant: one for the day after my funeral, one for his first day alone with Lila Kate after everyone resumed normal life, one for her first day of kindergarten, and one in case he met a woman he could fall in love with. I wrapped those letters up with a red satin ribbon.

  If I wasn’t here to be his partner and help raise our little girl, I at least wanted my words to be there for him. I wanted him to know I was watching from above, that I was proud of him, and that I thought he was doing a wonderful job. I also wanted him to feel free to move on when the time came. He was my one and only love. He was my fairy tale. But it was possible I wouldn’t be his. He had a long life ahead of him, and I didn’t want him to spend it without someone by his side.

  I placed both stacks of letters in the bottom drawer of Lila Kate’s dresser. On top of both piles, I left one letter loose: the first one he would read. I would tell him that they were there when I felt it was time.

  I left the scrapbook lying on the top of the dresser because Grant knew about it. He didn’t know the real reason I wanted all those photos; he just knew I was making a scrapbook of memories for Lila Kate. I had framed my favorite photo of us sitting on the steps of the front porch. My head rested on Grant’s shoulder, and his arm was wrapped around me, his hand splayed out over my stomach. It now hung over Lila Kate’s changing table; you could see it the moment you walked into her room.

  “You refolding baby clothes again?” Grant asked as he stepped into the room.

  I laughed. He had caught me more than once reorganizing her closet and drawers. He didn’t understand it, but he never teased me. He always smiled and told me Lila Kate was going to have the best mother in the world. I really hoped that was true.

  Grant never spoke about what could happen. With each doctor’s visit that went well—we continued to get good reports—he seemed less worried. He didn’t stare at my stomach as if he was unsure about it anymore. As if it was the enemy. He touched it often, and he had even started talking to her.

  “I want everything perfect for her,” I told him, closing the drawer with the letters.

  “It will be, because you’ll be there,” he replied.

  Before I could say anything, he took a step toward me. “The photographer is coming back this afternoon. I have a few more pictures I’d like him to take.”

  He did? I had started to ask him about it when he stepped in front of me and took both of my hands. Then, as if in slow motion, he got down on one knee. All ability to speak or breathe left me. I wasn’t expecting this. I had come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t ready for marriage after the ball. Grant had already taken a huge chance on me. He didn’t like taking chances. He was cautious.

  “Harlow Manning,” he said as he pulled out a black satin box from his pocket. “I think it’s possible I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. I couldn’t forget you. I looked for reasons to be around you. I dreamed and fantasized about you. Then somehow, over Chinese takeout, I managed to get you to sit in the same room with me for longer than a minute. I knew that night when I kissed you that I’d never be the same. Nothing would. You had marked my life.”

  He swallowed hard and gave me a shaky smile as he flipped open the box. A teardrop diamond was nestled in a small velvet cushion. It was simple and elegant. It was perfect. I didn’t wear jewelry often, but this . . . this I would wear forever. My eyes were filling with tears and blurring my vision. This was really happening. I reached up to wipe the tears that had escaped and let out a soft laugh at the emotional mess I had become.

  “You terrify me. Nothing in this world has ever shone as brightly as you do or made me want to be a better person like you do. I’ll spend a lifetime trying to be worthy of you, but I won’t be. No one could ever be. You’re a rare and precious gift, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it, by my side. You’re my happiness. You’re my home. Will you make me the luckiest man alive
and be my wife?”

  Tears were freely streaming down my face now as I stood there with this beautiful man on his knees in front of me. A man who had just said such heartbreakingly sweet words to me. “Yes,” I said, unable to say anything else. I didn’t have to remind him of the chance he was taking. He knew. We both knew. He didn’t care. I was worth taking a chance for. That was what he was telling me.

  “Yes?” he repeated, grinning up at me.

  I nodded my head, and he let out a relieved laugh, then shot to his feet and grabbed my face with his hands. His lips covered mine, and I knew that if I died tomorrow, I had lived. I had lived big.

  Grant picked me up and started carrying me out of the room.

  “Put me down, I weigh a ton!” I said, worried he was going to hurt his back.

  “You’ve gained eighteen pounds, baby. That’s not a ton.”

  He was headed for our bedroom, and I decided that arguing with him might not be to my advantage. If this was going where I thought it was, I was completely on board. Grant laid me down carefully on the bed and bent down to slip my shoes off. He kissed the arches of both feet before standing up and taking my shirt off. I let him undress me like I was helpless, because he seemed to be enjoying himself. When he tugged on my leggings, I lifted my bottom so he could slip them off, leaving me completely naked and him fully clothed.

  “This is slightly unfair,” I said, reaching for the button on his jeans. He chuckled and let me unsnap them. Then he discarded them, followed by his shirt. I took in his firm, sculpted body and lifted a hand to run it over his stomach. I loved the way it felt, and when he flexed, it was even better.

  “Lie back and spread those legs open for me.” His voice dropped to a sexy, husky sound, and his eyelids dropped as his gaze traveled down my body. I scooted back and opened my legs as instructed. Watching Grant’s sexy smirk before he lowered his head between my legs made me shiver in anticipation. I loved the way he made me feel.

  When his tongue took a swipe up through my slit, I reached up and grabbed the headboard in an attempt not to grab his hair and take or lose control. Whichever. I was more sensitive down there than I had ever been, but I had read that this was normal. I thought about sex a lot more than I used to. Although looking at Grant often made my mind go to sex. Sweaty, hot, wild sex. The kind we currently couldn’t have. I wanted it, though. I wanted it bad.

  “Give me your hand,” he ordered, and I quickly obeyed. He moved it over my wetness. “Hold it open while I lick.”

  Oh, my. This was new. I reached down and used both hands to hold open my folds while he licked from my tingling spot, which was so close to an orgasm, to my opening, which was contracting in anticipation of being filled. I started to cry out as the orgasm grew, but right before it flung me over the cliff, he stopped, and his body moved up over mine. He slid inside me, slow and easy, as a growl of approval tore from his chest.

  “I swear, every time I’m inside you, I think it’s the absolutely best fucking feeling in the world, but each time, it’s even better.” I clawed at his back, and he began to move faster. “Never can get enough of you. I want to live inside this pussy,” he said as my orgasm once again reached its crest. Instead of pulling away this time, his mouth lowered and clamped down on one of my nipples as the waves broke free, sending me spiraling into wonderland.

  “Fuck, yes, that’s sexy as hell,” he said as his hips jerked faster, and my name tore from his chest in a growl before he rolled over, carrying me with him so that he stayed inside me but I was on top.

  “Can’t stop,” he said, gasping. “Coming now.” He jerked again, and his body shuddered.

  When he was finished, I kissed a trail from his shoulder to his mouth.

  “When it’s safe again, I’ve got plans for you, sweet girl. Dirty, naughty plans.”

  “Is that a promise?” I asked, smiling down at him.

  “Hell, yeah, it is,” he replied.

  Late that night, after hours of Grant showing me just how much he loved me and feeling every pleasure he could provide, a sharp pain hit me. Soon I was curled up in a ball and screaming. The pain was too much, and I knew it couldn’t be right. I had read all about contractions. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Grant jumped out of bed, trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t make out the words or respond. I was doing all I could to keep from crying out in pain again. His voice didn’t soothe me. Nothing helped. The pain slowly started to fade and then hit again.

  “Ambulance will be here in five minutes.” Grant’s voice was filled with pure terror. I wanted to comfort him, but this time, I couldn’t. I had to take care of me and our baby. A cool, damp cloth touched my forehead as he told me how much he loved me and how he was going to take care of me. Then he cursed and felt the warmth between my legs.

  “God, no. Fuck!”

  I glanced down, and all I saw was blood. And then it all went black.

  Grant

  The doors swung closed behind the doctor and nurses who surrounded Harlow as they wheeled her unconscious body on a gurney away from me. They wouldn’t let me go any farther. I was numb with pain and terror. My life had just rolled away behind those doors, with no promise of return.

  I stared through the small windows of the doors and watched the gurney disappear around a corner. I had to wait here. That was all they had said. Nothing more. They didn’t tell me if I would see Harlow’s smile again. They didn’t tell me if she’d ever open her eyes again. And they didn’t tell me if Lila Kate was ever going to see this world.

  I knew nothing except that my heart and soul were back there somewhere with Harlow.

  “Grant.” Rush’s voice called out to me, but I didn’t turn around. I kept my eyes trained on that window. It was my only connection to where they had taken Harlow. Arms wrapped around me, and one large hand rested on my shoulder. I hadn’t called anyone. I didn’t know how Blaire and Rush even knew. If I could speak, I’d ask them, but I wasn’t able to do that just yet. I was scared to do anything. I needed to focus on this door. I have to will her to live for me. To come back to me.

  “Bethy saw the ambulance leaving your house on her way home from work. She called us,” Blaire said, without my having to ask. “She’s with Nate now. Woods and Della are on their way, and Rush is going to call Mase now. We thought we’d let him call Kiro.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rush nod, then head off to make the call.

  Kiro. That was my one reprieve. I wouldn’t have to live without Harlow, because if she didn’t make it, Kiro was going to take my life, too. I would hand him my gun if he wanted it.

  “Do we know anything?” Della asked as I heard footsteps running toward us. I didn’t look at her. I had to keep watching these doors. This window.

  “No. Rush just went to call Mase. I was going to have him ask. I figured he could get someone to talk.”

  “Woods will do it,” Della said.

  I felt a squeeze on my shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” Woods said. “We’re here, man. It’s gonna be OK. She’s a fighter.”

  I managed what I thought was a nod or something close. Because I wasn’t sure it would be OK. I wasn’t sure if anything would ever be OK again.

  “Mase is on his way,” Rush said, walking up to stand beside me. “This place is about to be full of people. I’m sorry, but they all love you and Harlow. She’s a part of us now.”

  She was the best part. But I didn’t say that.

  After a gentle squeeze of my arm, Blaire finally let go of her hold on me. “Come sit down,” she said gently.

  “No. I have to see.” I wasn’t going to explain more than that. I just wasn’t moving from this spot.

  “Y’all go have a seat. I’ll stay here with him,” Rush said, seeming to understand my need to watch out for her.

  The crowd slowly moved away, but Rush remained by my side. I wouldn’t tell him this, but I needed him. Just having him there beside me helped. I felt stronger. I felt like I might not shatter into a million pi
eces while waiting for Harlow if I had him there, helping me hold it together.

  I hadn’t bothered with calling my dad. He hadn’t asked me about Harlow since that phone call months ago. He didn’t bother to care what I was doing with my life. He just cared about me doing my job. Eventually, I would have to call him. He’d have to know why I wasn’t going to work.

  “She’s in surgery. That’s all I got. They will let us know more soon,” Woods said.

  She was in surgery. I wasn’t there to hold her hand. I wasn’t there to tell her she was going to be OK. She was alone. She needed me.

  “She needs me,” I choked out.

  “She needs you to be strong. That’s what she needs,” Rush said.

  I knew that, but I wasn’t sure how strong I could be, imagining her on a table being cut open. What if they made a mistake? What if her heart couldn’t handle it?

  “When we were kids, she had open-heart surgery. She was so damn scared. She curled up in Kiro’s lap the night before, and he told her a story about a princess who went to sleep. All she needed to wake up was the man who loved her most to be there waiting for her. And if she knew he was there, she’d wake up to see him.” Rush let out a soft chuckle. “I thought it was a silly story then, but after the surgery, when I was finally able to see her, Dad took me back to her room. I asked her about being put to sleep and if it was as scary as she thought. She shook her head and said, ‘No. I knew my daddy was here waiting for me to wake up. So I did.’ And it was that simple. She knows you’re waiting for her to wake up. I have faith she’ll do it.”

  I wanted to believe I was her strength. That she’d come back for me. That she wouldn’t give up. But right now, I was so scared that my hope wasn’t enough. I kept seeing all that blood on the bed and her face go so pale, and then she was out. Nothing. Her heart had been beating, and she had been breathing, but mine had stopped. It was my worst nightmare come to life.