SECOND CHANCES: A ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA® COLLECTION

by ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA®

  Her glance met his and she smiled, a genuine expression of pleasure that pushed the half-dazed glaze from her eyes. His face responded in kind, and he wondered if the grin stretching his mouth looked as silly as it felt. He didn’t much care if it did. He’d been waiting for the day she came to life, hoping like hell it would happen for her and longing selfishly to be nearby when it did. Therese glowed every bit as lovely as he’d thought she would, and his heart leaped at the idea that a bit of her new sparkle had to do with seeing him. Something vaguely flirty in the way she held herself said it might. He winked without meaning to, then chuckled silently when she blushed and broke eye contact. She lifted a slender hand to her temple as though meaning to tuck her hair behind her ear. His heart froze as he waited to see how it would hit her, but after a short, startled exploration of the curls beneath her fingers, she laughed out loud and met his gaze again, crossing her eyes and poking the tip of her tongue from the corner of her mouth. Silly, apparently, was all the rage at the moment.

  Not the only thing raging, he thought ruefully, shifting as his body tightened in response to her joy. He tried not to imagine kissing her rosy lips as she crossed the room, but it was harder than it had ever been, now that he didn’t have to feel guilty about lusting after a sick woman. He tried not to stare at the gentle sway of her hips as she moved, but he was harder than he’d ever been, now that all of her was smiling. Once upon a time, barely there curls and nude eyelashes wouldn’t have affected him so much. He was damned glad he’d gotten his perspective adjusted before she’d entered his field of vision.

  “Hi.”

  Whoa. Even her voice had gained new life. Always pleasant, laughter now tinged even that single syllable. Always warm, it now invited him in. A rush of camaraderie and affection flooded his soul, filling him with a weird mix of horniness and hope.

  “Hi.” Oh geez, the unexpected emotion was thick on his tongue, and she wouldn’t have any idea why. Pull it together, J. P. You’re going to freak her out. He snagged his water bottle and sipped, hoping she’d think he had something stuck in his throat. Something besides his heart, which was doing its best to Grinch-grow its way out of his chest.

  The whisper of an exasperated sigh tickled his eardrum, and he studiously avoided glancing to his left. He knew Aleshia Turner was there and didn’t need to look at her to see her eye roll. She’d already given him what-for for obsessively checking the clock all morning and then refusing to admit that he was waiting for Therese to show up. Now he could practically feel her willing him to stop being an idiot, just as she used to will his body to accept the chemo.

  “I have eggs,” he blurted, then tried not to flinch at the disgusted squeak of the nurse’s shoes as she walked away.

  Therese, thank goodness, seemed less annoyed. Though puzzlement drew tiny lines across her brow, her luscious lips twitched in what looked like suspicious amusement. He took a deep breath and tried again.

  “What I meant to say is that I saved a carton of eggs for you. Just in case you made it in. I was starting to worry.”

  “Really?” she asked, showing a dimple he’d never seen before.

  His mouth and brain went dry again. “Yeah.”

  The dimple deepened. “Well, I did cut it pretty close to the wire.” She glanced over her shoulder at the huge wall clock. “Wow. Really close to the wire. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem,” he replied, drawing on every ounce of self-possession he had and pulling the eggs from the fridge. He slipped the carton into the turquoise market basket on her arm and smiled. “What else do you need today?”

  The flare in her eyes nearly knocked him loopy again, but he managed to keep it together and help her choose green peppers, tomatoes, and an assortment of fresh herbs. Then they came to the squash, and he very nearly bolted across the table when she picked up a large, ripe zucchini, met his eye, and licked her lips. But before he could throw her to the floor and ravish her next to the check-in desk, she dropped the vegetable on the pile and started laughing as though she’d heard her first joke. A moment later, she wiped her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, merriment still dancing through her words, “I’ve no idea what’s come over me today.”

  He knew, or thought he did. Remembered the euphoria as though it were only yesterday. “Last appointment?” he asked. “All clear?”

  She nodded gleefully. “Just this week. Yesterday in fact. And I feel …”

  “Like you just woke up from a very strange dream?”

  “Kinda, yeah.”

  “Like you could fly?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Like you never knew what it meant to be alive before?”

  “Yes!” Her eyes glowed so brightly he thought they might zoom off to settle somewhere more appropriate, like maybe the night sky. Then she cocked her head, and her gaze turned penetrating. “Wait, how do you know?”

  “Been there,” he said, trying for a lightness of tone to offset the gravity of his confession.

  She stared at him as though she’d never seen him before. Which, he supposed, she hadn’t, not really. Sure, they’d met at the market nearly every week for months and the few words they’d exchanged at first had gradually grown to actual conversations. He’d emailed her a few recipes. She’d emailed him a few questions. He’d seen what he hoped were the seeds of interest in her eyes before, but he’d understood her preoccupation and been willing to wait until … now, apparently. He was half afraid it was too soon, too early. But with the opening in front of him, he might as well take it. He’d learned not to take later for granted.

  “Listen,” he said, “would you want to get some coffee? The cafeteria here isn’t bad, you know.”

  She peered at him so long he thought she’d refuse, then smiled. “I’d like that,” she said. “But …”

  His heart sank. Well, hell.

  “But can we go across the street to the coffee shop? I want to be normal today.”

  Oh hell yes they could. He’d go pretty much anywhere she asked him to at the moment. Instead, he nodded, took her money, and then slipped the zucchini into her basket. “I don’t think I could sell this to anyone else,” he said, hoping the innuendo wasn’t too much. “Consider it a congratulatory gift.”

  AS THEY CLAIMED THE coveted comfy chairs, hot drinks in hand, she realized she’d been thoughtless.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t even ask if you needed to be somewhere else or if your produce would be okay. The hospital cafeteria would have been faster.” But she hadn’t wanted quick, she’d wanted time—time to ogle his work-hardened body while she explored the story behind the man. She only hoped he was as interested.

  “I’m right where I want to be,” he said, a low thrum of intensity underscoring the words.

  Her toes curled, and relief crept across her shoulders. She was on a da-ate! Well, sorta. Close enough. Okay, so they were probably going to talk about it, but that was fine. She did want to get to know him better. When she’d left the house that morning, she’d been elated, flying high. She hadn’t thought much past seeing him again and flirting a little. In fact, she’d worried a bit that he’d only been nice because he felt sorry for her, that she’d mistaken kindness for budding attraction. But the excitement in his face when she’d entered the center had pretty well wiped those fears away, and the way her heart skipped when she laid eyes on him told her she’d moved beyond physical attraction. Finding out about their shared experience added a depth to the possibilities between them that she hadn’t anticipated, and she wanted to see where it could go. Always assuming they were on the same page. Why did she keep thinking that? Gary, of course. She’d have to talk to her therapist about that one next time. Just to reassure herself, she crossed her legs, letting the hem of her skirt inch up her thigh a bit. The gleam in his eye put her uncertainty to rest, and she settled more comfortably into her chair, anticipa
tion and curiosity humming beneath her skin.

  “I’m interested,” he said, his tone half-teasing.

  Oops, busted. A flush crept across her cheeks. “Ahem, yeah, well, you know.”

  “Yeah I do, actually,” he laughed. “The first time a woman flirted with me after, I was convinced it was just pity. Totally blew it. That’s why I figured we’d better get it out in the open. I’m interested. Very. You caught my attention the first time I saw you.”

  She thought back. “That would have been … early April? Shortly after my surgery. I bought grapes. You let me taste one.”

  “You remember that?”

  “Sure I do. I thought it was really nice of you. I thought … you were really nice.” She flushed again, suddenly embarrassed. She could still taste the sweet tang on her tongue. She hadn’t seen him as anything other than a kind man at the time, and yet every time she’d bitten into a grape thereafter, she’d thought of him. She had a feeling it would always be that way, no matter what happened between them—or didn’t. Lord, how weird her life had become.

  He grinned as though he knew exactly what she was thinking, then seemed to hesitate. “Actually, that was the second time I saw you. The first time was a few weeks before. Friday, the thirteenth, to be exact.”

  Shock rippled through her, along with a weird sense of fate. “They confirmed my diagnosis that day. It was the first time I went to the center.”

  “I thought so. I saw you sitting in the lobby, and you had that look, the one we all get when we know for sure. You were so pretty, and I felt guilty for even thinking it because I knew what you were headed into. Well, I didn’t, not really. There are so many types of cancer, so many stages. But whatever it was, I knew it would be tough.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes. How right he’d been about that. And, yet, it could have been so much worse. Her cancer was highly treatable, and she was young and had her family and friends to help her through. She’d seen the ones who had to go it alone, and the ones fighting terrifying odds. It could have been so much worse.

  “I can’t believe you were there on day one. I think of it in capitals, you know. Day One. But wait, why were you there on a Friday?”

  “Five-year checkup.”

  “Oh wow! That’s a huge milestone.” The milestone, in fact.

  “Yeah. I was so excited and then there you were, and I remembered exactly how lucky I was. I almost came and sat with you, but I didn’t want to be weird.” He laughed a little. “And I didn’t want a husband or a boyfriend to come out of the bathroom and deck me.”

  Was that a question? She supposed so. And a reasonable one. “Yeah, the boyfriend was already gone by then.”

  He nodded. “That happens more than you’d think. My girlfriend made it through my first chemo appointment. A lot of others don’t make it that long.”

  Horror flooded her brain and squeezed her heart. Here she’d been moping because Gary had run off with another woman, but at least he hadn’t known she was sick. The timing had just been shitty. But his story …

  “I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t be. It was five years ago, and I have four sisters, so I was never alone—even when I wanted to be. Besides, Denise—my ex—never would have gone for my new lifestyle.”

  Lifestyle? Oh damn. Was he going to turn out to be a swinger or something? Because interested as she was, she was pretty sure she couldn’t go for that either. Well, okay maybe once, but it certainly took anything more than sex and friendship off the table.

  His laugh rang out, rich and delighted. “I wish you could see the expression on your face right now. You look like I might bust out a pack of sister wives and ask you to join in. I meant the organic farming and everything that goes with it.”

  “Oh! That!” Relief and chagrin curved her lips. “What were you before?”

  “Ah, before.” He leaned back, shaking his head as though embarrassed. “Kind of an ass, actually. Well, not an ass, exactly, but pretty proud of myself. I had a big-time sales job, raked in the bucks. Drove the biggest, most ostentatious SUV I could find, lived in a decked-out condo downtown. Thousand-dollar suits every day, hundred-dollar dinners every night. Ridiculous, in hindsight. It all seemed so important then, though. And then the cancer came and my priorities changed and when I started reading, I found out a lot of things I didn’t like about our food system and, well, here I am.”

  “And Denise?”

  “Ad exec. I heard she married since. Twice.” He glanced over at Therese. “What about you?”

  “Not so showy, but along the same lines. I was more about the perfect suburbanite life. Four bedrooms, three baths in a master-planned community, gas-guzzling vehicle, plans to be a stay-at-home mom for my future 2.2 kids.” Her voice slipped a little on the last word, and she cleared her throat. Sharing was one thing, but it was too early in what one might loosely call their relationship for her to fall apart.

  It didn’t seem to faze him, though, and he didn’t pull out the usual reminder about adoption as though she needed to think about alternative options before she’d had a chance to mourn her newly acquired infertility. He wrapped one of her curls around his finger and said, “I had chemo, too.” When she nodded through the lump in her throat, he smiled gently. “Your hair is beautiful, by the way. I like the red.”

  She cleared her throat again. “Yeah, well, the blonde fit the image better. Or so I thought. Now, I’m just … I’m just done. I traded my beast for a hybrid months ago. I’m listing the house next week.” Which was news to her, though she’d intended to do it sometime soon anyway. But as she heard the statement roll off her tongue, she knew it was true all the same. She was suddenly desperate to be rid of the trappings of her old life.

  “You’re moving?” he asked, taking a too-casual sip of his latté.

  “Not far,” she rushed to assure him. “I love my job, and I want to volunteer at the hospital and, well, since we’re being open, I’m interested, too. In you, I mean. I’ve been thinking about one of those tiny houses that are all the rage right now. With a gazebo and a big garden. Maybe you could give me some pointers.” She blushed furiously and took a long, slow drink of her cider. Surely that was an okay ask since they’d admitted mutual interest and all. When she glanced up, he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Seems like something I could do.”

  She fought the urge to dance in her seat and took another calm sip instead. “Good.”

  “In fact, why don’t you come visit the farm sometime soon? We give public tours on Wednesdays, but I’d love to give you a private look at the place. Maybe make dinner for you? I’m a pretty good cook.”

  Therese’s heart flipped over in her chest and chill bumps broke out along her arms. Once upon a time, a home-cooked dinner down on the farm would have seemed quaint at best. Just then, it sounded like the most romantic thing in the world. But the urge to play hadn’t yet drained from her system, and she couldn’t resist one more tease. She leaned over, giving him a glimpse of her revamped cleavage, and laid a hand on his knee.

  “Are you inviting me to see your zucchini, Mr. Taylor?”

  His eyes flashed sex and mischief. “Only if you want to look.”

  HE COULD BARELY WRAP his head around the past couple of weeks, around the emails and the phone calls and the candlelit dinner they’d just finished. He couldn’t believe she was standing there with him, their shoulders barely touching, watching night-owl water bugs dance across the surface of the pond. Somewhere nearby, a neighbor had a bonfire going. Someone else had Janis Joplin tuned high enough to send her whiskied strains shimmering through the half-light. He was so aware of the woman beside him it ached.

  This was obviously the perfect moment to take her in his arms as he’d wanted to do for so long, to pull her to his chest like the hero she made him want to be, to kiss her like a man who’d gone mushy from the waist up and rigid
with desire below. He wanted to kiss her, needed to kiss her, could barely control the hunger no food could sate. And yet here he stood, heart pounding and knees wobbling like a tenth grader at the homecoming dance. Like an idiot. Like someone who hadn’t done far more difficult things in his lifetime. Except he wasn’t sure anything he’d done before would turn out to be as important. It was early days yet, and anything could happen, but he just had this feeling about Therese, about their future. The last time he’d been so sure was the day he decided to start the farm. That had felt right, too.

  He grabbed hold of his courage with both hands, reminded himself that he used to have balls, and said her name in a voice hoarse with everything building inside. She turned, a peaceful half smile on her face and answering need burning in her gaze. The desire very nearly took over, wiping out any possibility of the gentle, exploratory kiss he’d planned, and powering his body to move. He reached for her and, in one swift motion, crushed her to him as though he’d never let go and captured her lips in a kiss more passionate, more heated, than he knew he was capable of delivering. Maybe he hadn’t been, before. Her curves gave against his hardness, but her body was as taut and wanting as his, and she met his fire flame for flame. She tangled her hands in his hair, tugging him ever closer as though she, too, had a lifelong hunger to satisfy. For long moments, pure, powerful lust swirled around them, stormy and desperate and laced with the kind of abandon most people could never understand. Tongues twined, hands roamed, and his brain buzzed so loudly it drowned out the waking pond frogs.