Second Chance

by Gena Showalter

  Not good enough to keep him.

  No. She refused to believe that. The breakup had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with his fears of losing someone else. And that had been his problem all along.

  She remembered the night she’d spent at the Scratching Post, dancing with Ryanne and Lyndie. Jude had shown up at some point and cornered her. She’d been buzzed, but his first words had sobered her up in a hurry.

  “You want Daniel, you’re going to have to fight for him.”

  She’d bristled with indignation. “Why can’t he fight for me? When is it my turn to be the prize?”

  “You are a prize. He’s miserable without you.”

  Was he? “Good!”

  “He’s afraid of losing you, and your desire to chase storms has only exasperated that fear.”

  “If he allows that fear to dictate his decisions, then he’s not worth fighting for.”

  Jude had left her in a huff, mumbling under his breath about fools too stubborn to see the gift they’d been given.

  After she’d spent the night throwing up in a toilet, wishing Daniel had been there to hold her hair and bathe her and tell her everything would be all right, she’d actually considered going to him. Then she’d thought, What the heck? I’ll do it! When they’d ended things, they’d both been driven by adrenaline and fury. They needed to talk, and if he was as miserable as she was, maybe they could work things out.

  But halfway to his dad’s house, she’d realized her mistake. She could fight for him, but she couldn’t fight his fears for him. They could get back together, but their relationship would still be fractured, and they’d end up splitting again.

  Now Dorothea crawled out of bed and into the shower. Hot water sluiced over her but failed to melt the ice that had taken up residence in her bones. Have to let Daniel go. For real and for good.

  She would have fun today, dang it. The inn was filled to capacity, every room but the theme room taken—it still wasn’t done. Towels, soaps and snacks had been set up in the dining room, and Mrs. Hathaway would be sleeping at the counter, just in case.

  When Holly had passed out flyers containing a pledge not to hurt anyone who interviewed for the reception position, four other people had applied for the job.

  Dorothea knew the second she made a hire, any hope of Daniel coming back would die.

  It needs to die.

  Fighting tears, she dressed, applied sunscreen and lip gloss, and dried her hair on the lowest, coolest setting. Less frizz and softer curls that way. She’d come to embrace who she was. She may not possess the standard beauty, but she was beautiful.

  Purple nails. Perfect.

  With a nod at her reflection, she exited the bathroom, intending to find her sister and mom and head to the festival. But she had no need to search—both Holly and Carol sat on the roof, drinking hot chocolate and whispering worriedly.

  Dorothea sat beside her sister and confiscated her mug, taking a sip, moaning with delight. Warm chocolate was the ultimate indulgence.

  “What are you guys talking about?” she asked. As if she couldn’t guess.

  “Virgil called me,” Carol said. “Daniel is at the festival with his friends.”

  Holly rested her head on Dorothea’s shoulder. “We can spend the day here. Yeah. Let’s spend the day here. I’m afraid if I see him, I’ll murder him. Save me from a life in jail.”

  Her heart squeezed painfully, but she patted the top of her sister’s hand. “No murders today. We can’t allow the actions of someone else to dictate ours. We’re going, and we’re behaving.”

  Since the festival was held in the town square, all they had to do was walk outside the inn, and they were in the thick of the activities. Booths had been set up along both sides of the street. The food trucks she’d dreamed about were intermixed with a thousand different games, each one incorporating strawberries in some way.

  She saw people she knew and people she didn’t. Though she didn’t feel like smiling and waving, she did both.

  “Look! Gourmet doughnuts!” Holly twittered with excitement. “Do you think they have anything with coconut?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  Arm in arm, they made their way to the truck in question and took a place at the end of the line. A few minutes later, she heard a familiar male voice behind her and stiffened.

  “Well, this isn’t awkward at all.” Brock.

  A grumble from Jude was the only response, but Dorothea felt a hot gaze on her back. Tensing with dread, she turned—

  And came face-to-face with Daniel.

  He and his friends had taken the spot directly behind her, and as they stared at her, her heart thudded against her ribs. The sun, which had so lovingly embraced her when she’d exited the inn, suddenly deep-fried every inch of her.

  “Dorothea,” he said with a stiff nod.

  Dorothea again. Ouch! Well, she could do him one better. “Mr. Porter.”

  He flinched, but she experienced no satisfaction.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be out there working security?” she asked. “You know, putting yourself in danger for your job.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m on a break. And I can wear Kevlar to protect myself from a bullet. What can you wear to protect yourself from a twister?”

  Holly spun, a good-sized helping of anger taking the place of her excitement. “Wow. Look at the piece of shit the cat dragged in.” She jammed a finger into Daniel’s shoulder. “Can Kevlar protect your balls from my knee? I don’t think so. Now hit the bricks, Porter. This town isn’t big enough for the both of us. Get gone. Fast.”

  He was too strong to be budged. “You’re as pleasant as always, I see,” he replied, his features twisted into a sneer.

  Hey! “You don’t talk to my sister with that tone,” Dorothea snapped. “Do it again, and you won’t be talking for a week.”

  “Or ever. Because I’m your worst nightmare, boy-o.” Holly fronted on him. “I cut first and ask questions never.”

  He looked between them, astonishment registering. “You forgave her,” he grated to Dorothea.

  “Yeah. So? What business is it of yours?”

  “Now, girls.” Carol tugged Holly back to her side and put her nose in the air. “We all know Mr. Porter is severely brain damaged. Let’s not tax his limited mental capacity with big words.” She looked him straight in the eye and, as if she were speaking to a toddler, said, “Go. Away.”

  Dorothea wanted to cheer. The woman who hated confrontation was doing a dang good job of confronting. And since their own confrontation, she’d been a better mother all the way around. She’d encouraged Holly and Dorothea to talk, and she’d helped around the inn more.

  Daniel’s focus remained on Dorothea. “Why aren’t you in the city?”

  “Why would I be in the city?”

  “You know why. The job you couldn’t live without.”

  “I didn’t take the job because I didn’t want it,” she said, and turned away. Let him stew on that!

  For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he bit out, “If you didn’t want the job, why the hell did you choose storm chasing over me?”

  Without looking at him, she replied, “I didn’t choose storm chasing over you. I chose freedom from a dictator. You demanded I do things your way or no way, and you weren’t willing to talk to me about your concerns. Why would I ever want to be with you?”

  Another round of silence stretched out. The line shortened, and she moved forward, but now her limbs were quaking. A showdown with Daniel had been destined to happen sooner or later, but she hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like. This hurt. This hurt bad.

  “If everyone will excuse us, Thea and I are going to have a quick word.” He grabbed hold of her hand and whisked her away.

 
Holly sputtered. Brock said something to quiet her.

  “Let me go,” Dorothea snapped.

  “Hell, no. I made that mistake once already.” He dragged her through the crowd and back inside the inn.

  He was going to try to get back together with her, wasn’t he?

  Once the door closed, she wrenched free. “Don’t do this, Daniel.” She rubbed the skin where he’d touched her, trying to ease the burn he’d left behind.

  His anger was gone, not a vestige of it remaining. His posture was yielding, open, his golden gaze beseeching. The way hers had once beseeched him, without success.

  “I shouldn’t have commanded you like a soldier and expected you to comply,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Of course you’re sorry. You got your way. I won’t be chasing storms.”

  “Thea—” He reached for her.

  She jumped out of range. “Before you showed up tossing commands like they were pennies, I’d already realized I could live my dreams from the comfort of my home. I’m going to be a stay-at-home weather girl, and I’m going to do it without you in my life.” There! Take that!

  Despite her words, he looked at her with hope, and it only made her want to slap him. “I was so afraid of losing you. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly,” she grated, “but you lost me anyway.”

  “Don’t say that. I’ve been a mess ever since we broke up. I can’t eat or sleep. I miss you. I think about you all the time. I…love you.”

  After everything he’d done and said to her, he was finally ready to admit his feelings? Well, of course he was; he’d gotten his way. No job in the city, no chasing storms. She laughed bitterly. Nothing had changed—for her. Their relationship was still fractured. Knowing he loved her fixed nothing.

  “Too little, too late, Daniel.” The anger leached out of her, leaving only sadness. “I will always know there are strings to your love. I’ll worry about losing you if I don’t do things your way. With that, on top of your worry about losing me again, we’ll never be happy.”

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I know I messed up, but I wasn’t worried. I was being proactive.”

  Oh, the lies we tell ourselves. “You were worried, and you are worried. I reached out to you, Daniel. I tried to talk to you. I took steps to win you back. You did nothing. Wait. That’s not true. You threw me away like so many others have done. As if I meant nothing.”

  His skin pulled tight around his eyes and mouth. “I couldn’t fight for you because I was busy fighting for my sanity. And I didn’t answer your text because I hoped to save myself from drowning in my misery.”

  “Or you wanted to punish me. Meanwhile, you left me drowning in my misery.”

  He blanched. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry. I just… I was trying to avoid future hurts.”

  “That’s the thing. You can’t avoid hurts. They’re going to come one way or another. That’s life.”

  “Thea—”

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” she interjected. “I told you. We’ll always be worried about losing each other, and I don’t want to live that way.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, holding tight, as if sensing she was about to bolt. “If I could go back…”

  “But you can’t.”

  “I’m worried, yes. I admit it. But I’ll deal.”

  Not good enough, she thought, and oh, her heart was breaking. “I’m sorry. I’m not putting my trust in you again. You’re the same man today that you were when you broke up with me. You haven’t changed.”

  “Thea.” He framed her jaw with his hands, his thumbs dusting over her cheeks. “Please. My dad is upset about the breakup. He wants us to be together as desperately as I do.”

  It was the total wrong thing to say, heralding the return of her anger. “Have you fooled yourself into thinking you love me just because your dad wants us together?”

  “No. No!” His grip tightened. “I know how I feel about you.”

  He kissed her then, smashing his lips into hers. An act of desperation. She opened for him, because she was used to opening for him and because she wanted—needed—his kiss more than she needed her next breath…and because she was saying goodbye.

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with all the love trapped inside her. For one minute, two, three, she savored the feel of his heart thundering against hers. Finally she rubbed herself against his erection, knowing it would be the last time—and pulled away.

  She was panting, and so was he. He reached for her, but she backed away.

  “You haven’t changed, but I have. I’m not the girl you started dating,” she said softly. “That girl couldn’t see her worth. This one can. And I’m worth more than you’re willing to give. I’m worth everything—because that’s what I’m willing to give.”

  “Thea—”

  “What if I want to move to the city one day? I do want to finish school. I might decide then that I do want to work for a network. I might decide I want to storm chase again.” Holly would move out of the inn one day to start her adult life. Carol might decide she wanted the inn back.

  And what would Dorothea have then? Her vlog, but not much else.

  “Thea—”

  “No, Daniel. You said it yourself. We’re done.” With that, she walked away from him, and she didn’t look back. The past was the past. It was time to march toward the future. And if that future didn’t include Daniel—that was okay. She would be okay.

  Loving a man didn’t mean depending on him for her happiness. That was why Ryanne’s mom still searched for contentment but never found it. Loving a man meant sharing, caring and being better together. And if you weren’t better together or at least fighting to be better—

  You needed to be apart.

  Tears splashed down her cheeks, but she exited the inn, certain she was doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  HAD SHE DONE the right thing? Dorothea wondered for the thousandth time that day. She’d spent several hours at the festival with her mom and sister, but she hadn’t eaten a single treat, and she hadn’t played any games. Now, as darkness descended outside and residents returned home, her mind demanded to know where Daniel was and what he was doing. The rest of her demanded she run—no, sprint—to his side.

  She loved him with all her heart. And now, without him, she felt as if she’d been ripped apart. As if she’d lost something precious, something she would never have again. But…

  Of course she’d done the right thing. Her reasons were valid. If things got bad, and they would at some point, she couldn’t trust him to stay with her.

  A knock sounded at her door a split second before Holly marched inside her room. “All right, enough moping.”

  “I’m not moping.”

  “Sis, I can hear you pacing three flights down.” Her sister stooped in her closet and grabbed a bag she began filling with Dorothea’s clothes. “Get your crap in order. Mom and I are taking over the inn for an entire week, starting tomorrow. You, missy, are going on vacation.”

  “You have school.”

  “Nope. Next week is spring break. Besides, I’ve turned in all my overdue homework. I’m making straight Cs now! Practically Bs. Or close to getting one B. In art.”

  “Oh, Holly. I’m so proud of you.” And she meant it. Before, Holly had been making Ds and Fs. “But I’m still not vacationing.” Where would she even go? “This is our busiest time of year.”

  “Which is the perfect time for you to get away.” Holly zipped the bag, which was overflowing, bits of cloth catching in the metal teeth. “I’ve already talked to Dane Michaelson about letting you use a room at his hotel, free of charge. He was happy to comp everything, including spa treatments, as long as I nev
er again threatened to give his stepdaughter a makeover.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, yes, I surely did. For once, someone is going to take care of you. Clean your room for you. Deliver food to you. You will rest, and you will relax. Maybe you’ll even sleep with a pool boy. I don’t know. That’s for you to decide.”

  Dorothea nearly choked on her tongue.

  “You can’t say no. Lyndie and Ryanne are going with you. But they’re coming over tonight to keep you from running away. That’s right, you’re having a slumber party. The three of you will leave at 6:00 a.m.”

  Dorothea drew her sister close for a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re amazing. The best person I know. And if Daniel doesn’t realize that, he doesn’t deserve the privilege—the honor!—of being your man.”

  “Maybe he does. He said he loves me.”

  “So? Did he show you he loves you?”

  Well…

  She shook her head.

  “So there you go. There’s your answer.” Holly dropped the bag beside the door. “If the pool boy isn’t your type, call maintenance and pretend you need help with your TV. When he shows up at your door, you can be naked. That’s, like, what happens in every porno ever made.”

  “No, it’s not.” Scandalized by her sister, and her own inadvertent admission that she knew what happened in pornos, she said, “What do you know about pornos, young lady?”

  “I work at an inn, sis. I can charge movies to other people’s rooms. What do you think I know?”

  Oh, sweet heavens. She kissed her sister’s cheek. “When I get back, we are washing your mind out with soap.”

  * * *

  DANIEL ANSWERED HIS phone with a snapped “What?”

  “Dottie is leaving at six tomorrow morning, and she’ll be gone for a week,” Holly said in lieu of a greeting. “If you want her, you better prove it before then, because Jazz used to tell her that he loved her, but his actions always proved the opposite. If you don’t show up, I’ll make it my mission in life to bury you—literally.” She hung up. A specialty of hers.

  He stared at his phone. Or his two phones. Why were there two? Oh, well. He stuffed the device back in his pocket and finished his newest shot of whiskey. He’d lost track of how many he’d had. Ryanne wasn’t on duty at the Scratching Post, so she wasn’t here to limit his intake with her wit and charm—and when that failed, her snide remarks. You don’t want another whiskey, cutie. You want a coffee. Mmm. Coffee. So good! Oh, you don’t want coffee? Well, too bad. Drink it before I ram the mug down your throat.