The second chance guy…
Flynn Logan is a dedicated soldier. The army is his life. Until he returns home and discovers an astounding truth that will turn his regimented world upside down.
Lori Ballantine has only ever loved one guy and he chose the army over her. Now Flynn is back and Lori is wary of letting him into her life, a life she shares with their son. The son she has kept secret from Flynn for the last five years.
As Flynn and Lori come to terms with co-parenting while traversing the minefield of a new relationship, Flynn needs to make some tough decisions: about his past, his future and his role in Lori and Adam’s lives.
Being a father may just prove to be the toughest assignment he’s ever had.
THE SECOND CHANCE GUY
By
Nicola Marsh
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © Nicola Marsh 2013
Published by Nicola Marsh 2013
(Originally published as Falling for Flynn by Crimson Romance, Oct 2012
Re-edited & published by Nicola Marsh 2013)
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They’re not distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all the incidents in the book are pure invention.
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in any form. The text or any part of the publication may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Discover other titles by USA TODAY bestselling author Nicola Marsh at
http://www.nicolamarsh.com
Recent titles by Nicola Marsh:
Brash
Blush
Crazy Love
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Busted in Bollywood
PROLOGUE
Moonlight filtered through the small window set high in the grungy wall, dappling the torso of the sleeping man beside her.
Lori Ballantine’s fingers tingled with the urge to trace the light patterns against his tanned skin, to outline the ridges of muscle, to skim every hard plane on his impressive chest.
Instead, she clutched the threadbare cotton sheet covering them until her fingers spasmed. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t wake him. It would only complicate things.
She edged away, stiffened when his head turned toward her. She held her breath until her lungs screamed but she needn’t have worried. He slept on, oblivious to her escape plan, oblivious to her real feelings, oblivious to everything, bar his precious career.
She wriggled toward the edge of the bed and sighed in relief when her feet hit solid floorboards. She eased onto her knees and crawled around, picking up discarded clothing, memories slamming into her as she collected each piece.
Denim skirt: Flynn tugging the zip, slowly, inching it down until she’d almost yelled at him to rip it off.
Halter top: Flynn toying with the knot, his lips skimming the back of her neck, his teeth nipping her.
Embarrassingly sensible white cotton panties: Flynn peeling them off, pleasuring her while doing so, rendering her senseless.
Squeezing her eyes shut to block out the erotic memories, she tugged on her panties, shimmied into the skirt and tied a hasty knot in the halter-top with shaky hands, determinedly ignoring the overwhelming urge to rip everything off and clamber back into bed again.
Being in his arms felt safe, felt right. But it wouldn’t last and as she opened her eyes, she saw his uniform draped over the back of a chair. The epaulettes twinkled like evil eyes and any faint hope she may have harbored that tonight might change things faded.
Tonight was an aberration. A whimsical fulfilling of a secret dream, a forbidden taste of what she could never have no matter how much she wanted it.
She cast a last malevolent glare at the uniform before glancing at him, her heart clenching with regret. He looked so young, so relaxed, at odds with the tough guy he’d become. Dark eyelashes cast illegally long shadows against clean-shaven cheeks, his sensual mouth curved in a semi-smile, his brown hair short but just as sexy as the long-around-the-collar style he’d had as a teenager.
She’d fallen for Flynn Logan from the first moment they’d clashed on opposing high school debate teams, his subdued intelligence at odds with his defiant stare as he’d visually dared her to beat him.
She had. He’d smiled. And sealed her fate.
He’d been her first love, her only love, yet she’d deliberately distanced herself the last four years as he’d chased his dream.
A dream that would take him beyond reach after tonight.
Hot tears scalded her eyes and she swiped them away. She’d gone into tonight knowing the outcome, grasping at a fleeting taste of joy, greedy to be his last memory of Melbourne before he shipped out.
No use crying over departing soldiers now.
With one last, longing look at the man she’d never forget, she tiptoed across the room, picked up her shoes, and eased out the door, the tears she’d battled cascading unchecked down her cheeks.
CHAPTER ONE
“This isn’t too bad.” Flynn did a quick reconnaissance of the land, noting the fenced off paddocks, dilapidated warehouse, large sheds in good condition, and the overall layout. “Needs some work.”
The realtor frowned, sensing a hard bargain. “Take it from me, mate, there isn’t much left around Richmond like this. You mentioned a training school for prospective army recruits? This place is perfect.”
“Maybe.”
Flynn’s noncommittal answer hid his growing excitement as he surveyed the land. When his major had recommended Richmond for the site of his training school, Flynn had masked his initial reluctance for anything remotely associated with a suburb that elicited nothing but melancholic memories.
However, he couldn’t deny this place was perfect for what he had in mind. As for Lori and the memories Richmond resurrected, he shouldn’t give a damn. He’d made his choice; she’d made hers. And when he’d thought they might have a chance at a future despite what she’d said, he’d woken to find her gone.
She’d ignored his letters, his emails, and he’d eventually stopped trying to contact her. But he’d never forgotten her and that one, incredibly hot night she’d made a mockery of her vehement refusal to consider a relationship.
“Ready to put in an offer?” The realtor glanced at his flashy gold watch as if he had more important things to do with his time. “I do have other clients interested.”
Considering the barren landscape on the edge of the trendy suburb, Flynn seriously doubted it, but now that he’d found what he was looking for, no point wasting time.
“Let’s head back to your office. I’m ready to negotiate and put an offer in writing if the price is right?”
He could almost see the dollar signs in the realtor’s beady eyes at the thought of the whopping commission from the sale of the land.
“I’m sure we can sort something out, Captain Logan.”
Flynn nodded, turned his back on his new project and headed for the rented SUV, hoping to God he was doing the right thing in coming back here.
* * *
“Hey, Mom.”
Lori had barely stepped out of the car before Adam barreled out of the house next door and flung himself into her arms.
“Hey, Sweetie. How are you?”
She hugged her son tight, silently vowing to refuse the next interstate professional development opportunity the school offered. She valued up-skilling her qualif
ications but it took her away from home, and Adam, too often. “Been a good boy for Jane?”
Jane Davies, her neighbor, old high school friend and fellow single mom, stepped out onto the porch. “He’s an angel.”
Adam squirmed out of Lori’s embrace and she briefly wondered how long it would take before he’d be too embarrassed to hug his mom in public—and dreading the day.
“It was super cool, Mom. Chris and I made a model plane and everything.”
Her son looked up at her with the slate gray eyes she’d only seen in one other person, their unique color a haunting memory of a man she’d rather forget.
She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Glad you had a good time.”
“How ’bout you? Anything exciting happen in Sydney? Did you climb the Bridge? Did you go swimming at Bondi? Did you bring me anything?”
His questions tumbled over themselves in typical rapid fire as he slipped his hand into hers, and gazed up at her with hope.
“Sydney was good though nothing exciting happened.” She tweaked his nose. “As for bringing you something, you’ll have to wait ’til we get inside.”
Rather than nagging her as most five year olds would’ve done, he smiled, a wide toothy grin illuminating his face.
“Okay. I’ll get my stuff.”
She watched him scamper off—faded blue T-shirt hanging out of baggy shorts, socks rolled down, one shoelace untied on scuffed sneakers—and a surge of maternal love almost brought tears to her eyes.
Despite Adam’s father breaking her heart, he’d given her a gift she’d be eternally grateful for.
“Thanks for looking after him, Jane. You’re a lifesaver.”
Jane smiled. “No problems, sweetie, any time. Having Adam stay over is a good influence on Chris. I’m hoping my scallywag picks up some of his vibes.”
Lori chuckled, remembering the stories she’d heard on the teaching grapevine about Jane’s cheeky son. “Chris is a healthy, growing boy with a curious sense of adventure. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Tell that to Mrs. Cook. She’s already rung me three times this term.” Jane rolled her eyes. “Anyway, enough of my dramas. You head on in and I’ll send Adam over with his bags.”
“I owe you. Though do you mind giving me half an hour? I need to grab a few
groceries, otherwise Adam will be back over for some of your wonderful fish and chips he’s always raving about.”
Jane shooed her away. “Take your time. I’ll send him over when you get back.”
“Thanks.” Lori waved, slid behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway, making several left turns before driving up Victoria Street. Seeing Adam had lightened her mood considerably. Though work managed to fill the hours she wasn’t with Adam, sometimes it wasn’t enough. While in Sydney, self-pity had snuck up on her, shaking her resolve that she was doing the right thing in raising Adam as a single parent.
She’d learned to conquer her doubts most days, managed to quash her guilt at not telling Adam’s father the truth, but sitting in a nondescript Sydney hotel room with too much time on her hands had allowed old doubts to creep in, undermining her resolve and righteousness.
Adam’s dad had chosen his career; she’d chosen to protect her child from the pain she’d enduring growing up. An excuse that justified her behavior most days. But in the wee small hours with only her thoughts for company, she couldn’t help but wish things had worked out differently.
Eager to return home to Adam, Lori sped through the supermarket, throwing essentials into a trolley. Mentally ticking off her checklist of milk, bread, cheese, and fruit, she rounded a corner and collided with a trolley.
“Oops, sorry...” The rest of her apology died on her lips as she stared in disbelief at the last man she’d expected to see, the shock on Flynn Logan’s handsome face mirroring hers.
“Hey, Lori.”
He didn’t blink, his gray-eyed stare worming its way into her soul, setting her heart racing just as it had years earlier.
“What are you doing here?” She blurted, gripping the trolley handle until her knuckles turned white, needing to hold onto the metal contraption for support before her knees buckled and she collapsed in a heap at his feet.
“The same thing you are.”
When she gaped at him in confusion, he pointed to her trolley. “Grocery shopping.”
Recovering her wits, she wished she’d freshened up when she’d arrived home, then chastised herself for caring. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, I guess not, though you’re an expert at saying things you don’t mean.”
She knew what he was implying. Her refusal to consider a relationship when he first enrolled in the army, then her abrupt about-face four years later on his final night in Melbourne before transferring overseas.
She couldn’t tell him her reasoning then and she’d be damned if she skipped down memory lane now.
“Forget it.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Ancient history now.”
“How long are you in Melbourne for?”
She shouldn’t have asked but seeing him again rattled her more than she cared to admit. Despite the carefully erected barriers around her heart, seeing Flynn after six years had her focusing on all the wrong cues: the breadth of his shoulders, the army-poster-boy haircut and those expressive dove-gray eyes that tugged at her soul.
“I’m setting up a training school here.”
His blunt response sent a shiver down her spine, whether of excitement or dread she didn’t know.
He’d moved back? For how long? And why Richmond? Melbourne was a big city; he could open his stupid school anywhere, why here?
Shaken, she tried to disentangle her trolley from his. “Good luck with that.”
“You visiting your dad?”
“I live here.”
“What happened to New York?”
You happened. You and the aftermath of that one, incredible night we shared.
“I changed my mind.”
His eyes narrowed, appraising, assessing. “You talked of nothing else but being a life coach once you finished your degree. You were going to take New York and London by storm, in that order.”
She shrugged, impressed by how much he remembered, annoyed by the fact she cared. “People change.”
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “The army was my dream, New York was yours. You don’t give up on your dreams.”
To Flynn’s surprise, Lori threw back her head and laughed, a fragile, harsh sound devoid of happiness.
“No, you don’t give up on your dreams. I just changed the boundaries of mine.”
“So you’re a life coach here?”
She shook her head and lowered her gaze but not before he glimpsed a shimmer of regret. “No, I’m a teacher.”
Perplexed, he raised an eyebrow and she merely tilted her head to one side, mussed curls falling to her shoulder in a dark cascade, beckoning him to reach out and twist one around his finger, just like he used to.
Lori hadn’t changed: the same hazel eyes, the chocolate corkscrew curls, the smooth olive skin with a smattering of endearing freckles across her pert nose. He allowed his gaze to briefly drift downward before returning to her face.
Correction, she had changed. Her body had filled out in all the right places, her womanly curves begging to be caressed.
Don’t even think about it, moron, his brain warned as his libido struggled to keep up.
To make matters worse she still wore the same fragrance, a spicy vanilla designed to tantalize his senses and drive him crazy in the process. It had certainly worked the last time she’d worn it, the night before he’d headed to the Middle East. That memorable night when he’d lost himself in her, in the magic of the moment and the promise of what might have been.
“Flynn?”
Dammit, even the way she uttered his name hadn’t changed, her soft tone reaching deep into his soul and dredging up memories better left forgotten.
“I do
n’t get it,” he said, wishing she’d stop staring at him with those bewitching eyes.
He’d always been useless when she looked at him like that, from the first minute he’d met her as a seventeen-year-old glaring at him from the opposing school’s debate team. Back then he would’ve done anything to see the gold flecks light up her eyes. If he was completely honest, he probably still would.
“You were planning on buying a one-way ticket to New York. You couldn’t stop talking about it.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, shook her head, her gaze evasive as he tried to read her shuttered expression in the harsh fluorescent store lighting. “My life isn’t any of your business.”
Spurred on by the speculative gleam in her eyes and an insane urge to bundle her into his arms, he pushed aside their trolleys and snagged her hand.
“I’d like to make it my business.”
CHAPTER TWO
The minute Flynn touched her Lori couldn’t think let alone respond as a jumble of sensation flooded her body, from languorous heat to icy shivers, with a liberal dose of the shakes thrown in for good measure, her body’s traitorous response catapulting her back in time.
She’d had the same reaction that night they’d gone crazy, the night they couldn’t get enough of each other, the night that had changed her life.
He hadn’t been deterred by her spasmodic responses to his emails while he’d been away training, had insisted they catch up his final night before deployment. She should’ve refused, should’ve left the past in the past. But she’d shared a real connection with Flynn Logan before he’d enlisted and curiosity demanded she see him one last time.
The rest of what happened that night? Hormones. Her excuse, she was sticking to it. Now, six years later, having his touch elicit the same visceral responses had her yanking her hand out of his.
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