Revel (Second Chance Romance #1)

by Alison Ryan

  But instead she looked out onto the harbor and thought about how much she wished her mother was here. That thought crossed her mind at least a couple times a week, but it had been crossing her mind almost hourly the last month or so. She’d see girls around campus walking with their parents, or sometimes just their mothers, and a pain would hit her heart. She’d never know what it was like to talk to her mother about the things happening in her life, or to get her advice that only a mother can give you.

  The tears were coming again and she was positive the stroller moms were looking at her now. It was time to walk back and get some much-needed sleep. Facing Allyn and figuring out the living situation could wait until tomorrow.

  She stood up to start walking back, and all of a sudden she heard someone say, “Hey, watch it…” and she was knocked over, catching herself with her arms, but not before they skidded across the cement of the walkway.

  “Shit,” she said, pain shooting through the scrapes. “What the hell?”

  “Are you okay?” a male voice said. “I’m sorry, it was bad timing, I was running by, and you stood up and we collided…”

  She turned to see who was speaking and that’s when she first laid eyes on Declan DeGraff.

  He was shirtless, and his tan pectorals had a sheen of sweat across them. His hair was “ash blond” as Vanessa, her sister, would have called it, and it was wet from perspiration. His face was handsome, his blue eyes concerned over her welfare. He looked like the type of guy that Allyn would have fawned over, a loud and mean party guy screaming at passersby on King Street on Friday night after drinking too much.

  But his eyes were kind. They didn’t match the rest of him.

  “Sorry,” Charlotte said, gingerly accepting his offered hand so she could stand back up. “I wasn’t looking.”

  “It’s just as much my fault,” he said, smiling now. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, looking down at her hands. They were bleeding.

  “Shit!” he said. “I feel terrible. You’re bleeding.”

  Charlotte shook her head, “It’s not a big deal. Just some scrapes. I’m heading back anyway.”

  “Do you live far? Or did you park your car on the Mt P end?” he asked.

  “No, I came from the East Bay end. I live on that side. I’m seriously fine. You can keep going on your run or whatever.” Charlotte was mortified now. She just wanted him to go back on his way and leave her be.

  “That’s where I came from too,” he said. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “Totally unnecessary,” she said.

  He looked at her for a moment and she couldn’t read the expression on his face.

  “You’re always this stubborn?” he asked. “I was taught you walk a girl home even in the best of circumstances. And certainly in ones such as this. I wouldn’t feel right.”

  Charlotte sighed, “Well, if you insist. That’s fine. It’s a long walk though.”

  “I have nowhere to be. I’m Declan, by the way.”

  “I’m Charlotte,” she said, and they began to walk.

  ********

  Declan could tell she’d been crying. Her eyes were red, and with ones as large and distinct as hers were, it was hard to hide emotion in them. He was immediately stunned at their beauty, at her beauty in general. Her face was framed by wild hair, the color of a sunset, and again those eyes. He wanted to fix what made them look so sad. He didn’t even know her full name yet, but he was determined to make things right in her world.

  I mean, what was a beautiful girl doing crying at the top of the Ravenel Bridge?

  But he sensed that pointing out how upset she appeared to be wouldn’t get him very far. And he wanted to know what he could about Charlotte. If she would let him in, that is.

  “So,” he said as they started walking back towards the peninsula end of the Ravenel. “You walk the bridge much?”

  Charlotte shrugged, “Maybe a couple times a week.”

  “Me too,” Declan said. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another before this.”

  “I usually come early in the morning,” Charlotte said. “You’re probably not even awake yet. Or maybe haven’t even gone to bed.”

  Declan laughed, “And how do you know? You think I’m some big party guy?”

  “Well, yes,” she said. “You kind of look like you’d be in a frat or something. Am I wrong?”

  Dammit, she wasn’t wrong, she was completely spot on.

  “Well, yeah,” he said. “But I don’t party that much these days. Or, at least I’ve curbed it.”

  Charlotte sighed, “Well, I guess that’s good. Or whatever. I don’t know. But yeah, everyone here seems to be into the Greek life.”

  “You’re not in a sorority?” Declan asked.

  Charlotte shook her head, “I don’t pay for friends. Not that I wouldn’t if I could, to be honest. I just can’t afford to. So it’s just easier to say I don’t.”

  It was shockingly honest and Declan nodded, “It’s hard to make friends here so Greek life is an easy way. I bet you could have had your pick if you’d bid.”

  Charlotte looked at him, “Why would you think that?”

  Declan was rarely the guy that was nervous around any girl. But something about how she looked at him suddenly made him sheepish, “I don’t know. You just… Well, you’re pretty and you seem smart and…” He was really reaching now.

  “How do you know I’m smart? You’ve only been talking to me for five minutes,” she said, looking forward again. “I mean, I am smart. But you don’t know something like that just from looking at someone.”

  Declan laughed nervously, “Sorry. I’m just… I’m trying to get to know you. It’s not every day I literally run into a beautiful girl on the Ravenel. Especially one who’s alone. The girls here all seem to travel in herds.”

  Charlotte laughed, a sound Declan suddenly realized might be his new favorite, “That’s so true. None of them can go by themselves anywhere! I work at Dixie Garden and the girls always go to the bathroom in a large group. No chick left behind. Which is fine because none of them eat their food anyway, so they’re not missing out.”

  Declan laughed, “What a waste.”

  Charlotte smiled at him, the afternoon sun lighting up her face. She was so damn pretty it almost knocked him over.

  “Do you go to the college?” Declan asked.

  “Yep,” Charlotte said. “For now.”

  “What do you mean?” he looked at her quizzically. “You on academic probation?”

  Charlotte shook her head, “No, quite the opposite. My grades are fine, but my living situation isn’t. My roommate is kind of… kicking me out.”

  He could tell it was a topic that was upsetting. Was that why she’d been crying?

  “Well, that’s shitty,” he said. “Why?”

  “She wants her boyfriend to move in,” Charlotte explained. “Which is fine, had she informed me of this 3 months ago when there was still any possibility of me finding a rental for the summer.” Charlotte’s voice caught in her throat. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But it’s why I’m a little upset, so forgive me if I don’t come off as the friendliest. I’m not in a great mood.”

  “Well, that’s understandable,” Declan said. “She really put you in a bind.”

  Charlotte nodded, “Yep. She really did. So I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really don’t want to have to go back to Nashville.”

  “Is that where you’re from?” he asked. “My dad went to Vanderbilt.” Ugh, he thought. You sound like a bragging douche.

  “Yep,” she said. “And that’s where my dad wanted me to go. Still wants me to go.”

  “Wow, you got into Vanderbilt and didn’t go?” Declan asked, impressed.

  Charlotte shrugged, “I wanted to get away. It just felt like it would have been high school, part two. I would have lived at home and nothing would have changed. Anyway, it’s more complicated than that but… That’s the truth.”
>
  They were walking down the incline now, getting closer to East Bay. He turned around and walked backwards while they talked, his hands shoved in the pockets of his running shorts.

  “So why here?” he asked. “I mean; I grew up here so I can completely understand the desire to get away.”

  “I used to come on vacation here,” she said. “I just always liked it.”

  He sensed there was more to the story, but he didn’t push it.

  “Well, it’s not a bad place to call home,” he agreed. “It has its charm.”

  Charlotte smiled, “Yeah, if you have the right name and the right amount of money in your bank account.”

  He laughed, “I guess so. But isn’t it also more than that?”

  Charlotte sighed, “It is. I love so much about this city yet also loathe so much about it. Have you heard of Pat Conroy?”

  Declan smiled, “What kind of Charlestonian would I be if I hadn’t?”

  Charlotte laughed, “True. Anyway, in The Prince of Tides the character opens it with ‘My wound is geography.’ That’s kind of how I feel about this place. It’s my wound and also my saving grace. It’s a foreign land, yet its home. It always draws me back to it, like some kind of magnet. I love the salty smells, the marshes, and the sense of history. I even like the aristocracy of the people who have lived here forever. It’s a city unlike any other.” Charlotte looked over at Declan who was staring at her now. “Sorry, I know I sound like a dork.”

  Declan shook his head, “Nope. The very opposite.” She’s passionate, he thought. How rare was that in a girl her age? What has Charlotte seen in her life to make her this way? He wanted to know more. He’d never been so intrigued by a person in his life.

  “Anyway,” she said. “I don’t know where you’re headed, but this is the street that takes me back to my apartment. Thanks for walking with me.”

  Declan shook his head, “I’m walking you to your door, Charlotte. You can’t get rid of me so easily. Besides, I have a thought.”

  “A thought?” she asked, skeptical. “And what would that be?”

  “Well,” he said. “Just hear me out. Because I know we just met and this might come off very strange.”

  Charlotte sighed, “If you did all of this just to get me to come home with you, it’s a waste of time. I’m not interested.”

  He paused for a moment and then laughed, “No! I mean, not that… Charlotte, that’s not what I am getting at. Shit. Did you think I did this to score a hook up?”

  Charlotte shrugged, “Yes. No. I guess I’m not your type.”

  Declan sighed, “Charlotte, you’re every man’s type. But that’s not what I’m getting at. Also, what a way to deflate a guy’s ego. Anyway, I wanted to mention… I live at my parents’ house on Meeting. And they have a carriage house that they’ve rented out to friends of mine before, and my buddy that rented it this semester is traveling abroad to Florence for the summer. So it’s free. And you happen to need a place, so I thought… Maybe you’d be interested?” He looked down at his sneakers, not sure what else to say, and wanting her to say yes to his offer, more than he’d want to admit.

  She was quiet for a moment.

  “I mean,” she said. “It’s an awfully nice offer. I would normally decline… But. I really am kind of desperate. How much would it be?” Charlotte looked at him, clearly anxious about the answer.

  “Whatever you pay at your apartment now,” Declan said. “Or less, if that helps. Our place has long since been paid for, so it’s not a big deal. Whatever works for you.”

  He was sure she was going to say no. I mean; they’d known one another barely an hour. But he couldn’t help but think that their encounter wasn’t just by chance. That maybe he could somehow fix it so she never had to cry on a bridge again. At least not over something like where she would live.

  “Okay,” she said. “I can’t believe this, but yes. And thank you. I can’t express…” Her voice caught for a moment, but then she composed herself. “I can’t express to you how grateful I am. But only if you’re sure.”

  Declan grinned, “I’ve never been surer.” Of anything, he finished saying in his mind.

  Chapter Four

  The drive seemed to be taking forever. Charlotte was tired of listening to talk radio, and she had played every CD she had, which admittedly wasn’t many. Yet she still had a while to go.

  She already missed Vanessa. They’d never lived apart except for Charlotte’s time at the College of Charleston. Now that they were both adults, Vanessa had become her best friend. They’d been through it all together and no one understood her like her sister did.

  Which is why it was so hard to not be completely honest with her about why she left Nashville. But being secretive was for the best. Telling Vanessa what was really going on would have added unnecessary complications to her life. Or at minimum caused her stress that she didn’t need. Vanessa was just starting her life. She had so much to look forward to and Charlotte didn’t want to mess that up.

  So she’d gotten in her car, and without looking back, she drove away.

  ********

  She’d finally arrived in Charleston around dinner time, slowly driving down King Street and allowing nostalgia to fill the interior of her Passat. She watched young girls in Herve Leger dresses, teetering in heels on the sidewalks, laughing drunkenly as they hopped from bar to bar. The energy in the air was palpable; as always, Charleston was its best self at night.

  She thought about turning around and driving down Meeting and past Declan’s house, but she reconsidered. It was better to leave it be. She wasn’t here to dig up the past. She just needed a familiar place to hide for a while.

  Charlotte drove up East Bay and the memory of her first meeting with Declan hit her as she pulled onto the Ravenel Bridge to go toward Sullivan’s Island, where she was renting a small cottage for the next month. She would never forget how he’d looked at her as they took that first fateful walk. His kind eyes, his handsome features, his beautiful, chiseled body. There had been no choice for her when it came to him.

  There never would be.

  ********

  By the time she reached the house, it was starting to get dark. When she stepped out of her car she could hear the sound of the Atlantic lapping against the shore. It was her favorite sound in the world, one she hadn’t heard in too long, and she couldn’t help but feel at ease. She was home.

  She’d rented the cottage for a month, but she suspected she may stay longer. She had enough savings to stay a while, something that was so different from the last time she’d been in Charleston. She’d been a broke college student then, living on ramen and a prayer.

  But she’d come so far in the last ten years. She was an obstetrician, one of the most respected in the Nashville area. When she’d decided to take this sabbatical, her entire practice had been in shock. It was sudden and with little notice. That wasn’t like the Dr. Sanders they knew.

  But then again, they didn’t know the whole story. No one did.

  Anyway, she couldn’t think of that for now, it would get her far too upset, and she was determined to make her time here a happy one. This was the last place she’d known the definition of that word, and she was desperate to know what it was like again.

  That evening, after unpacking, she’d taken a glass of wine and sat on an Adirondack chair out on the porch that faced the beach. Driving all day had exhausted her and the wine exacerbated the fatigue. She knew she’d sleep well tonight.

  She noticed the house next to her had a moving POD in the driveway. It was a large mansion that dwarfed her cottage, and it appeared to have recently been bought. The For Sale sign in the front had a large SOLD sticker emblazoned across the front of it.

  Well, whoever they are, Charlotte thought to herself as she finished her glass, I hope they’re not assholes. Maybe I can even make some friends.

  And with that she went back inside.

  Chapter Five

  Declan hadn’t even to
ured the house before buying it. No need. He knew it was the best Sullivan’s Island had to offer, and his realtor had assured him it would meet all his needs.

  Besides, Declan didn’t know how long he would even live there. But it was beach front, with a pool, two hot tubs, a sauna, and a full basketball court on the grounds. Not that he played much anymore, but just knowing things were available to him was the best thing about being wealthy. So until he knew more about his father’s prognosis, it would definitely be sufficient.

  And it wasn’t that Declan had ever known anything other than wealth, but being a billionaire was a completely new level of rich. His family had actually been on the brink of bankruptcy (a family secret that almost no one knew about in Charleston, though there had been whispers) when Declan sold his start-up, and fortunately the DeGraff name was saved. Not that his father showed appreciation for any of it, but such was Henry DeGraff’s way.

  But now Declan was finally here to see the mansion he’d bought. His realtor, an older woman named Bree Lakes who had her face plastered over dozens of billboards around the Lowcountry, was meeting him at 9:00 am to hand over the keys and close on the contract.

  He’d driven up early, wanting to get away from the yacht. It was starting to smell stale, like a drunk lived on it, which was half true. When he pulled his Range Rover into the driveway he noticed the cottage next door had a Volkswagen Passat parked in front of it. He hadn’t realized he’d have a neighbor so close to him. Not that it mattered, just something he hadn’t thought about. He liked to be more secluded from things. Besides, the tiny cottage was dwarfed by the pillars and turrets of his southern castle by the sea. An odd dichotomy.

  “Declan DeGraff, as I live and breathe!” Bree Lakes’ shrill voice called to him from across his expansive front yard. He’d thought for sure he would arrive before Bree, but she was taking down the For Sale sign and putting it into the back of her Porsche Cayenne.

  “Hey, Bree,” he said, waving to her. “Good to see you.”