by Noelle Adams
The Rebound
Second Chance Flower Shop, Book Two
Noelle Adams
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Noelle Adams. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About The Rebound
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Reunion
About Noelle Adams
About The Rebound
AFTER THE ENDING OF a long-term relationship that brought her nothing but stress and tears, Madeline Jenkins is ready to have some fun. Do something wild. Spontaneous. Maybe a little risky.
In other words, she wants to be nothing like her regular quiet self. Not forever. She likes herself. But she wants to try something new—just for a little while.
What better way to have some fun than to fall into an ill-advised, no-strings-attached fling with a very hot man. True, Ken isn't an ideal rebound guy. He's the sheriff, he's ten years older than her, and she's known him for years. They have nothing in common except an intense attraction that seems to come out of nowhere.
But that makes it easier. Ken is just her rebound. And no matter how good he makes her feel about herself, it's not like they'll ever want each other for real.
One
MADELINE JENKINS HAD spent all her twenty-six years being good. Careful and smart and reflective and generous and safe.
Good.
And now she was over it.
She’d been a good daughter. A good student. A good friend. A good worker. A good girlfriend. Her hard work had paid off in terms of career and friendship but not in any other area of life. Her quiet patience and refusal to give up on relationships, even when things got hard, had earned her nothing but nine wasted years, trying to love a selfish asshole when he’d never really loved her back.
She’d started dating Josh Cantor back in high school. He’d been the star quarterback of the football team and easily the most popular guy in their small school. She hadn’t believed he was actually interested in someone as unspectacular as her, and she’d carried that awed disbelief for way too long. Josh was used to the world falling at his feet. He’d never cheated on her—that would have been an immediate deal breaker for her—but he’d taken and taken and taken and never given back. He wouldn’t marry her even though he knew that marriage was something she wanted. He just had sex with her and let her take care of him, making his life easier. She’d known things weren’t great, but she’d convinced herself that all relationships were a struggle and so she wouldn’t be any happier with someone else.
So she’d been his girlfriend for nine long years. Ever since she was seventeen. She’d never been with anyone else. Until she couldn’t take one more night, crying silently in the dark, and had finally broken it off, shocking him and the other residents of the small town of Azalea, Virginia, who still believed he was a gift sent from heaven.
They’d been broken up for more than three months now. Her life was so much better. It felt like she was suddenly freed of a heavy weight that had been holding her down for too long. But she still felt kind of sick about all the years of her life she’d poured into someone who simply didn’t deserve it.
She’d always believed she was smart, but evidently even smart women are sometimes stupid about love.
She was over it now, however. She felt like herself again instead of one (less important) half of Josh Cantor. And one thing she knew for sure. It would be a long, long time before she let herself be someone’s girlfriend again.
On a Saturday morning in mid-autumn, she stopped by Second Chance Flower Shop to make sure her business partners, Ria Phillips and Skye Devereaux, didn’t need any help. The shop had originally been a struggling, small-town floral shop owned and operated by Ria’s parents. They’d left it to Ria when they died, and then she and her two friends had gotten lucky with a custom arrangement that had gone viral. A lot of hard work and talent later, the business was booming. They had a waiting list for arrangements that was hundreds deep. They turned down more requests for custom arrangements than they accepted. And the requests still kept pouring in.
Ria did the flower arrangements. Madeline wrote personalized poems or messages. And Skye handled social media and marketing. Madeline had no idea how the success had happened, and she still wasn’t convinced it would last, which was why she hadn’t quit her job at the public library.
As she walked in, Madeline greeted Georgia Vance, whom they’d recently hired to staff the front of the store, and then she headed to the back room. Ria was fiddling with some tulips, not appearing to be focused too hard on whatever she was doing. And Skye was sitting on an empty worktable, drinking a cappuccino and swinging her legs.
“Hey!” Skye greeted her. She was a tiny redhead with big blue eyes and the loudest person Madeline had ever known. “It’s supposed to be your weekend off.”
“I know. I’m just checking in.” Madeline leaned against the table beside Skye. “Everything going okay?”
“Yeah. We ended up with way too many tulips, so I’m trying to figure out something fun to do with them. Otherwise we’ll just have to put them in bunches on a table outside at a discount and hope some locals pick them up in the next couple of days.” Ria was a slim, attractive brunette with dark eyes and an outgoing personality. She gave up on the tulips for the moment and turned around to face her friends. “What are you going to do for fun today?”
“I don’t know,” Madeline admitted. “Probably stay in and read. Or binge-watch TV.”
“That’s not very exciting,” Skye said with a frown.
“I know, but I’m not very exciting. What the hell am I supposed to do on a random Saturday? Go skydiving or head to Vegas or something?”
“Maybe. Haven’t you been wanting to do something wild and crazy?” Skye’s eyes were wide, and her expression hopeful, as if she were looking forward to living vicariously through her friend. Other than her work for Second Chance Flower Shop, Skye’s life mostly consisted of navigating her way around her very large family and (mostly unsuccessful) online dating.
“Yes, but that’s just talk. There’s not really anything wild and crazy I can do in Azalea. I mean, nothing that I’d want to do. A lot of wild stuff that people end up doing isn’t what I’d consider fun. I’m not going to get drunk or go dancing and buy a motorcycle or hook up with a guy at a bar or anything. It’s just not me. Books and tea and staying in. That’s me.” Madeline sighed and rubbed her face. “God, I’m boring, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not!” Ria immediately defended her. “There’s nothing boring about you. But you should let yourself have a little fun for once. You work really hard, and it hasn’t been that long since your breakup. You deserve a little indulgence. Why don’t you drive to Richmond and go to that bookstore you like? Let yourself buy anything that catches your eye, even if it’s an expensive first edition. We’ve been making good money lately, and I know for a fact that you haven’t spent much of it on yourself. You’ve probably been squirreling it away in a savings account. You deserve to do something nice just for yourself.”
Madeline’s chest hurt slightly, the way it always did when something rang deeply true to her. “Yeah. I guess.”
“No guess about it. You’ve got to do it. Buy something at the bookstore completely outr
ageous, just because you want it.” Skye looked more excited about the idea than Madeline. “Promise us you’ll do it.”
Madeline was usually strong willed in a quiet way. No one could talk her into doing something she didn’t already believe was right. But the fact was that right now she knew her friends had a point.
She’d had a hard year emotionally, and she’d also been working the equivalent of two full-time jobs. She was tired. Drained. Her friends had forced her to take the weekend off to rest and enjoy herself, and she hadn’t done much of that yet.
She loved the little store in Richmond full of used and rare books. She could spend hours in there, just browsing the shelves and stroking the old spines. She had more money in the bank than she’d ever believed she would earn because they’d had such good luck with the flower shop for the past couple of years. And she also didn’t have a demanding boyfriend dragging her down.
One day of bookish indulgence wasn’t out of line.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll do it.”
Her friends cheered her decision, and Madeline had to wonder how boring she really was that her friends were so excited about her making a trip to a bookstore.
MADELINE ENDED UP HAVING a fabulous day. She got to Richmond around lunchtime, so she went to one of her favorite restaurants and had lunch before heading to the store. There, she spent two hours and ended up buying an armful of books. Only two were higher than her normal price range, so the purchases didn’t even make her feel too guilty.
She stopped for a frozen coffee drink for the drive home. The sun was out. The day was deliciously warm with a touch of autumn briskness in the air. She rolled down her windows and turned the music up loud, singing with some of her favorite songs on the drive home.
Most of the route was a two-lane country road without much traffic. It was mostly straight and mostly flat, so nothing slowed her down.
So, yes, she was driving too fast. She’d been having fun. Feeling as wild as it was possible for her to feel.
Free.
And it all came crashing down like a load of bricks when she saw flashing lights on the car behind her.
Damn it all to hell. She knew the car that belonged to those flashing lights. It was the county sheriff, and he was pulling her over for speeding.
She slowed down and pulled over onto the shoulder immediately, taking a few deep inhales and trying to control her suddenly ragged breathing. She was a rule follower by nature. She’d never gotten a speeding ticket before. And stupidly it was the idea of being caught doing something wrong that upset her a lot more than the fine she’d have to pay.
She should have known her one pitiful attempt at freedom would end like this.
With Ken Harley giving her a ticket.
Ken had been elected sheriff five years ago and reelected last year. She’d known him most of her life since he’d been a deputy with the sheriff’s office when she’d been a teenager. He was a nice-looking, easygoing man in his midthirties. Although he was older than them, he occasionally hung out with her social group since he was friends with Ria’s fiancé, Jacob.
It was pretty embarrassing that he’d just caught her speeding.
She looked back in her rearview mirror and saw he was getting out of the unmarked blue sedan he always drove.
He was a big man with broad shoulders, long legs, and thick thighs.
She gulped, looking at him approach in her side mirror. She wasn’t sure why she was thinking about the breadth of his thighs, but they looked very fine in the tan trousers.
The uniform also consisted of a brown button-down shirt and a jacket with a sheriff’s star on the chest. It wasn’t the most attractive of outfits, but he managed to wear it well. He had light brown hair that gleamed gold in the sun. It looked like he needed to shave.
She stared at him speechlessly as he approached her window.
When the holy hell had Ken Harley gotten so hot?
She was in such a jittery state that she didn’t realize her window was still rolled up until he leaned over and tapped on the glass.
Her cheeks burning, she rolled it down. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”
Oh, she was brilliant when she was flustered. No doubt about that.
His expression was perfectly sober, but there was a clever gleam in his eyes as he bent over farther to talk to her through the window. “What’s going on here, Ms. Jenkins?”
He always called her that. He had since she was sixteen years old. Even though she was used to it, for some reason it bothered her today. As if he was treating her like a boring old spinster instead of an attractive young woman.
She wasn’t as pretty as Skye or Ria. At least she’d never believed herself to be. She had shoulder-length hair in a medium blond, steel-gray eyes, and a curvy figure. She wasn’t bad-looking, but she also wasn’t gorgeous.
But still... Ken didn’t have to treat her like he would his grandmother.
“Nothing’s going on.” Because she was off-balance, her tone was a bit more defiant than it normally would have been. “I was driving too fast. Go ahead and give me a ticket.”
Ken’s eyes were very blue. Much bluer than she’d realized before. They scanned her face with a close scrutiny that left her feeling confused and vulnerable. “It’s not like you to speed. So why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you so we can take care of it?”
Ken had always had a laid-back manner about him that made everything he said seem casual. Low stakes. It was usually comforting and reassuring—like he was never worried—but at the moment it bugged her.
Because ridiculously she wanted him to take care of it. Even though it wasn’t his business. Even though there was absolutely nothing he could do to mend her damaged heart.
“I was in Richmond at a bookstore,” she said, giving him the easiest explanation she could come up with. “I was having a good day and wasn’t paying attention to my speed. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’ll be happy to pay the ticket.”
“Did you get anything good at the bookstore?” His eyes had moved to the bag on the passenger seat.
“Yes.” She was surprised enough to answer honestly, opening the bag to show him the stack of books. “I got a lot of good books. Plus a first-edition Emily of New Moon.” The expensive books were carefully wrapped up, so she didn’t show him those.
“Is that a good book?”
“It’s one of my favorites. By the same author who wrote Anne of Green Gables. But I don’t think it’s your kind of book.”
“What do you know about my kind of books?” The corner of his mouth turned up just slightly. It was ridiculously appealing.
“Just a guess, but I bet I’m right. I’ve never seen you come into the library.”
“I’ve got a bunch of old Westerns that belonged to my dad. I read those sometimes.”
“Really? Who wrote them? Louis L’Amour? Zane Grey?”
“Some of both, I think. I don’t pay much attention to authors. I like reading them though. Wish there were more.”
“We’ve got a pretty good collection at the library. You should stop by sometime and see if there are any that you haven’t read.”
“Maybe I’ll do that. What else did you get?”
“I got old editions of the entire Betsy-Tacy series. I love those. They weren’t even very expensive.” She patted the top book—Betsy’s Wedding—lovingly.
“And you were in a hurry to get back to read them?”
“No. I’ve read them dozens of times. I checked them out of the library for the first time when I was twelve or thirteen. I really was just having a good time and not paying attention to my speed. I felt...” She trailed off, realizing she was starting to ramble.
She never did that.
“You felt what?”
“I don’t know. Like I wanted to be a little bad for once. Like I wanted to be... free.” She stared at her steering wheel. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Some people weren’t built for being bad or having adventures. She was defi
nitely one of those people. “You need my license and registration?”
“Nah.” He scrawled something on his little pad, tore off the sheet, and handed it to her. “I’ll give you a warning this time. Just watch your speed when you’re having fun. I know there’s not much traffic, but deer sometimes run across here, especially this time of year, and it just takes a distracted moment to run off the road. Don’t want to see you hurt.”
She swallowed, nodding and accepting the paper he handed her. “Thank you. I’ll be more careful. I appreciate your not giving me a ticket.”
“No problem, Ms. Jenkins. Glad you had a good day with your books.”
“See you later!” she called as he started to walk away. She watched him in her mirror. He had a really fine ass too. High and tight and nicely curved in his snug pants. It looked firm.
She kind of wanted to touch it.
Shit. Where did that idea come from? What had gotten into her?
Ken wasn’t on her radar of eligible men. He’d been married for most of the years she’d known him, although he’d been divorced now for more than two years. He had two little daughters. He was ten years older than her.
Plus he was the sheriff.
Clearly her mind had been affected in the aftermath of her breakup. Ken wasn’t the kind of man she should be lusting over.
It was nice of him to not make her pay a ticket even though she’d deserved it. She glanced down at the warning he’d written down. It took a while to decipher his writing, but when she did, it made her blush for no good reason.
Maybe you can find some other way to be free.
KEN HARLEY SPENT THE next two days thinking about Madeline.
It was ridiculous.
He’d always liked the girl, even back when she was a smart, quiet teenager who never drank or got in trouble or made problems for him. Yes, he was pretty sure she was the one who’d painted the mural of a goat who’d lost his pants on the side of one of the downtown buildings, with a matching limerick before the big homecoming football game one year, mocking the rival team, but it had been so funny and clever that he’d had trouble summoning any righteous indignation over the graffiti.
