His 2nd Chance (The Sumner Brothers Book 6)

by Lori Ryan

He smiled. “So did Devlin.”

  “What about the other guys?”

  “Well, Aaron wants a place in town near the medical clinic. Emmett and Elle are still trying to decide, but she has a dance studio in town so she’s thinking about selling her condo at the resort and buying a bigger house closer in. And Ben and Maggie seem pretty happy in her house in town, for now. He likes to keep her away from the lodge on her days off.”

  “I can’t believe she’s running the lodge. I bet she has fun bossing Ben around.”

  He laughed. “We all do.”

  “So that just leaves you and Jake.”

  “For now.”

  “And you’ve staked your claim here.” She turned, sweeping her arm to indicate the land around them.

  “Yeah, I like it here. I always have. I used to come out here when I was pissed, or frustrated, or confused.” They sat in silence as he thought about his youth, when he felt so out of control sometimes. “It always helped clear my thoughts.”

  “I could see that.”

  “I actually came here before I asked you to marry me.”

  Her head snapped to his. “What are you talking about? We eloped in Vegas.”

  Grant smiled at the memory. He and Sophie had teased about marrying each other even on their first date. He’d been serious, their connection being so strong, but he’d never pushed the issue.

  Two months later Sophie had been in Las Vegas doing a New Year’s Eve concert. Afterward, drunk on the holiday spirit and the high of performing, he’d suggested they go to a chapel and marry. To his surprise she’d agreed. They were married on New Year’s Day, to the shock of family and friends, and the media.

  He leaned back on his hands and stared out at the cloudless sky. “I’d thought about asking you a long time before I did.”

  “Seriously?”

  He turned and stared at her. “Of course. Marriage is a huge commitment. Just because we did it in Vegas, it wasn’t a whim, at least not for me.”

  She sat up straight, staring down at the creek, her fingers picking at the blanket.

  “So what do you think?” he asked.

  “About the land?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s amazing, I love it.”

  “Could you be happy here?”

  She swiveled her head to him, her hair flying and whipping her in the face. “What do you mean, happy here?”

  He turned his body to face her, crossing his legs. “Don’t freak out.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot this past year and I think part of the reason we imploded was because we didn’t spend enough time together, just the two of us. We both had busy professions—”

  “We still do.”

  He held up a hand. “I know, hear me out.”

  She drew in a deep breath and gave a small nod. “Okay.”

  “We both have crazy schedules and our home-base is Los Angeles. That’s no place to rest and recuperate.”

  “True,” she said.

  He moved closer. “I want to be with you, Sophie. I’ve missed you so much it physically hurts. More than you know.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  God, could he believe she’d missed him too?

  “I think we really never had a chance to bond. I heard Shawn talking about lumber while he was working around the barn. He said stressed joints have to be re-glued and clamped for a while in order to make them stable again. That’s when it hit me.”

  “What?”

  “We were stressed, individually and together, during our entire marriage. Our schedules, our lives, our professions…we were both going at break-neck speeds. It wasn’t surprising that we broke.”

  “I know,” she said, “that’s why I wanted us to slow down.”

  “I know,” he nodded, “and I didn’t listen to you. Well, I listened, but I thought staying relevant, being in demand, was more important.”

  “And now?”

  He scooted closer. “And now I know you’re the most important thing to me. Not fame or fortune or the next acting job. Not a concert or best-selling songs or anything, Soph. Just you,” he reached out and stroked her cheek, “and me. That’s the most important thing to me.”

  She leaned into his touch and the nervous edge in his stomach receded as he breathed easier.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and she covered his hand with hers.

  “I was a selfish prick. I didn’t give our marriage the time and the attention it deserved. I didn’t give you the attention you needed. I want to change that.”

  “You want to re-glue us?” she said, smiling.

  “Yes, actually.”

  “Wood glue could get messy.”

  He slid his hand around the nape of her neck as he laughed and leaned in, pulling her toward him. “Not with glue. With love.” Before she could protest, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, pulling away before he lost control. He smiled when he felt her lean into him.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, her blue eyes shining as she gripped his wrist for support.

  “So, you want to move here? To Colorado?” she asked.

  “Not permanently, no. I just thought, maybe this could be our respite place, the home we come to when we need to regroup, to reconnect.”

  “To re-glue?” she repeated, laughing.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, “something like that. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, Sophie, to give you what you want. A family, a career that soars. Anything.”

  “What if we can’t have a family?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “What about your job? You just started directing.”

  “We’ll figure that out, too. Together though this time. And if it’s too hectic, I’ll stop.”

  She leaned back, skepticism etched on her face. “You can’t….stop acting, stop directing. You’re too good.”

  He shrugged. “My life has changed now. I don’t need to act, don’t need to be on top to feel whole.”

  Her eyes darted between his, her lips pressed in a firm line. “I can’t be what you need to feel whole either, Grant. That would only be a replacement. One drug for another.”

  “I know.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Besides you?” he smiled.

  She remained silent.

  “I’m figuring that out. With the help of my therapist. But what I do know is that I’m committed to this, to you, to our marriage, if you are. I’ll make adjustments however I can to make sure our relationship is the most important thing.”

  “So you would follow me around the world to concerts if it was the only way we could be together?”

  He knew she was teasing but he wasn’t. “Yes, I would.”

  “You would miss acting.”

  “Not nearly as much as I’ve missed you. I know you feel the same way, Sophie. Otherwise you would have signed the divorce papers already.” He noticed she stiffened and her eyes darted away. “Soph? Are you okay? Do you still want to divorce me?”

  There was a painful moment of silence before she finally shook her head.

  “Thank God,” he breathed out.

  “Just because I don’t want to doesn’t mean it might not be for the best. I mean, I know you’re changing, but so am I.”

  What the hell did that mean? Oh, fuck. He struggled to keep his voice calm. “Is there someone else?”

  “What?” she jerked back. “No, of course not.” She stared at him, eyes wide. “What about you?”

  “Sophie, I’m a hot mess all on my own.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, Sophie, there hasn’t been anyone but you since we’ve been married.”

  Her gaze fell and she picked at the blanket.

  “What?”

  “I saw a picture of you and B.B. Shaw, in Entertainment News Now.”

  “Sophie, we talked about this when we first met. Those are rag mags, created to sell fake a
nd exploitative stories. We promised we wouldn’t read them or believe them. Remember?”

  She nodded as her head fell.

  “Sophie.”

  She didn’t respond so he slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her face. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

  “Oh, Soph, come here.” He grasped her and pulled her onto his lap. “Never,” he said, stroking her head, “I would never do that. And I sure as shit wouldn’t be dumb enough to parade around like that.”

  She laid her head on his chest. “Not helping.”

  He kissed her head. “That was probably taken from the set. You know B.B. starred in my movie.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “Or, at least I told myself that. But still…”

  He understood all too well. It was the reason he’d lost his shit and beat the fuck out of his manager, and lost most of his money. But it had been worth it to protect Sophie. He pulled her closer to him and rocked her.

  “I want to build a place here, Soph, big or small, it’s up to you. Whatever you want. But I only want to do it with you, if you want to.”

  She lifted her head, her blue eyes still glazed over with tears. “Can I think about it?”

  Well at least she wasn’t telling him to fuck off. “Of course,” he said, nudging her head back down.

  “I love the sound of the creek.”

  He smiled when she burrowed herself deeper into his hold.

  “And the smell of you,” she said.

  His heart beat hard. He knew they would find a way to make this work. They had to. He couldn’t live without her. “You’re my joist,” he said, kissing her head.

  She slid her hands onto his chest and brought her legs fully into his lap. “And our love is the glue.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Grant pulled up alongside the gas pump in town and cut the engine.

  “I’m going to go inside for a water,” Sophie said, tugging her hat down low on her brow. “Do you want anything?”

  They’d just come from mountain biking and despite the chill in the air, were both sweaty and worn out.

  “Yeah, I’ll take a water too if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay,” she nodded once. “I’ll be back.”

  He reached in his back pocket to grab his wallet but instead felt his phone. He’d have to keep that hidden.

  “That’s okay, I don’t need money,” Sophie said. “My treat.”

  She smiled, small dimples creasing the sides of her delicious lips.

  He swallowed back his desire. “Okay, thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He watched her sweet, plump ass sashay across the parking lot, thinking how lucky he’d be to win back the affections of his wife.

  Suddenly his phone buzzed. He stepped out of the Jeep and pulled it from his back pocket, staring at the screen.

  His mother. Great.

  They’d ditched dinner once last week. He’d explained that he and Sophie needed time together before he brought her around the pack of hungry gossips.

  He stepped to the back of the Jeep so Sophie wouldn’t see him and answered.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “Well, hello. I thought you were lost or had been eaten by wolves out there.”

  “The only wolves threatening me belong to the Sumner pack.”

  She laughed. “That’s true. So how are you two doing? Any progress?”

  “I think so. I showed her the land.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. What did she think about building on it?”

  “She agrees that it would be a nice place to stay when we need a break.”

  “That’s wonderful. What all have you been doing?”

  “We’ve been hiking and canoeing.” He suppressed a laugh at that memory. “And we just finished mountain biking. We may go tubing down the mountain later this week.”

  “Oh, that will be fun. I think snow is in the forecast. But please be careful. Do you remember when your father dislocated his shoulder doing that?”

  Grant chuckled. “That was his own fault.” Since there was very little snow that year, his father had coated the bottom of his tube with grease in the hopes of increasing speed like Clark W. Griswold from Christmas Vacation. He’d actually gotten his tube airborne.

  “Your father. I swear.” Although there was amusement in her voice, he also heard the sorrow.

  “How are you doing, Ma?”

  “As well as could be expected. Somedays I still grab the phone to call him or turn around to ask him a question.”

  Grant swallowed hard, understanding. There were many times he’d picked up the phone to call his father only to remember he wasn’t there. “He was a good dad.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Sometimes I think maybe subconsciously that’s why I’m afraid to have children right now. At least, that’s what my therapist says.” Grant had confided in his mother several months ago that he was seeing a therapist. She’d been glad and encouraging.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I just feel like I could never be like him. Kids deserve the best. What if I can’t give that to my kids?”

  “Your father was wonderful, I give you that, but you’re talking as if John Sumner was perfect.”

  “He was to me.”

  “Oh, Grant,” she chuckled, “if that’s your only fear, you shouldn’t concern yourself. I loved your father very much, but he was not always the man you knew.”

  Grant sank down on the bumper. “What does that mean?”

  “In the beginning neither of us had a clue what we were doing, in marriage or with you kids. I mean, for goodness sakes, we were married under strained conditions.”

  His mother was referring to the fact that his grandparents had been killed in a car accident, leaving his aunt and uncle basically orphaned as teens. His father had left college to return home and take care of them, and his mother had followed.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to marry your father. It was just a stressful time.”

  Grant sat quietly. He’d never heard this story.

  “I was new to Canyon Creek,” she continued, “everyone thought your father was a saint, which means they thought he could do no wrong. But let me tell you, he could.”

  Grant smiled. He’d never really seen his parents do more than squabble at best.

  “So you guys fought?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said with more vehemence than he expected. “We had Sally and Mark in the house, two teenagers who were, well, teenagers. All three of them had just lost their parents. Somedays it felt like they all took it out on me, like I was the odd man out. Once, I threatened to leave if they didn’t stop.”

  Grant sat up straight, his eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

  “Very,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I would have too.”

  “What happened?”

  “They got their shit together.”

  Grant burst out laughing. His mother didn’t swear. Ever.

  “Don’t tell Becca I said that.”

  He shook his head, still chuckling. “I won’t,” he promised.

  “No one’s good at something in the beginning,” she said. “It’s the same with marriage. It’s a mingling of two souls, two people with distinct personalities. It’s a give and take, a learning process. Your life is filled with compromise and sacrifices. They have to be shared to be successful.”

  He thought about his mother’s words for a moment. “I’m not good at compromise.”

  Her laughter was immediate and unrestrained. “I’m the last person you have tell that to, son. I raised you and your twin, remember?”

  He smiled. His mother was teasing, not condemning.

  “You have to practice. Remember how horrible you were at acting in the beginning?”

  “Hey,” he protested.

  “Oh, sweetie, you know I love you but what was that slasher movie called?”

  He shuddered at the thought of “Sorority House Slaughter,” a B-film
horror movie he’d starred in at nineteen which had unfortunately turned into a cult classic.

  “I get it, Ma. Practice.”

  “You have to practice things like compassion and compromise. I realized I wasn’t being very compassionate to your father and Aunt Sally and Uncle Mark. I could remind myself about their loss, but on a day-to-day basis, I lost sight of that. When they were bickering or being passive aggressive, it was hard to remember there was pain at the root of it.”

  “But it all worked out?”

  “Eventually, but not without a lot of hard work on all our parts.” She paused for a moment. “Grant, we weren’t perfect parents. I’m sorry that you thought that, especially if it’s one of the reasons you’re afraid to have children.”

  He didn’t mention Sophie’s miscarriages. No one in their families had known, except Jackie.

  “We made more mistakes than I want to admit,” she continued. “But we loved you boys, more than we loved ourselves sometimes, and that’s what parents do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Practice selfless love. The ability to place someone else’s wellbeing and happiness above your own. even though there’s no guarantee of being appreciated or loved in return.”

  “I do love you, Ma. You know that.”

  “I do, sweetie. And I love you too. But you didn’t always feel that way.” She chuckled.

  “True.” He laughed. “I had my moments for sure.”

  “We all do. But it’s about love, Grant, about worrying less about what you’re getting and more about what you’re giving. Marriage and raising a family are not for selfish people. Not if you want to experience the joy true family brings.”

  “Grant?” Sophie’s voice called from the front of the SUV.

  Crap. He wasn’t supposed to be on his phone unless it was an emergency.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, standing up as she made her way around to the back.

  Sophie put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “What are you doing?”

  Shit.

  “Is that Sophie?” his mother asked.

  “Yeah, I need to go, Ma.”

  “Let me talk to her,” his mother said.

  “No way.”

  “Alexander Grant Sumner.”

  “Oh, Jeez.”

  She’d pulled out the full name.

  “Here.” He held out the phone to Sophie.