The Second Time Around: a Hope Valley novel

by Prince, Jessica

  Then she said four little words that excited me as much as a teenage boy scoping out his first nudie mag. “Your room or mine?”

  A bang jerked me out of the memory and back to the present. Giving my head a shake to break my mind free of the cobwebs, my attention returned to Tessa, who’d just slammed her trunk closed and was struggling to make her way up the walk with two grocery bags packed to the gills in her arms.

  Every molecule in my body screamed at me to jump out of the truck and rush to her. At the very least, I should help her with her groceries. That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?

  But there was that voice in the back of my head saying I was damaged goods. If I came back into her life now, I’d only weigh her down. She was better off without me.

  I watched her until the pain got so bad it hurt to breathe, but I still couldn’t bring myself to start my truck and drive away. Even after she disappeared inside the inn, I stayed right where I was, staring at the building like a creep. After all these years, the woman who’d burrowed beneath my skin and into my heart in less than a week was here in my town. So close, yet still a world away. She might be better off without me, but I was a broken shell of a man without her.

  If these little glimpses of my beauty were all I could have, I’d sit here all night. Because just one glance at Tessa Day made me feel more alive than I had in years.

  Chapter Three

  Tessa

  I’d been pacing the length of my room for the past forty-five minutes, sipping wine while my heart pounded against my breastbone and my mind spun in a million different directions.

  Moving to the side of the window, I slowly shifted the curtain aside and peeked out, letting out a mumbled curse when I saw the truck was still parked in the same spot, right across the street.

  I’d noticed him when I pulled up earlier. It was as if those ten plus years had never passed between us. If he was close, my body knew it. My skin prickled and my blood vibrated like an electric shock. As soon as I’d climbed out of my car, my gaze had been pulled to where Bryce was sitting in his truck like a magnet. I’d hoped, by ignoring him, he’d take the hint and move on, but I wasn’t so lucky.

  Bringing my wine glass to my lips, I tipped it back for another drink, only to discover it was empty. Moving to the little kitchenette, I poured another glass almost to the rim and gulped a quarter of it down before shuffling to my open laptop on my bed.

  I’d spent far too long googling Bryce Dixon, but thanks to my limited technological skills, I’d come up empty.

  Snapping the lid closed, I pursed my lips and blew out a raspberry before stomping back to the window.

  Maybe the wine fueled the anger I’d been stewing on since getting back to the inn, but when I pushed the curtains aside and saw the truck still sitting there, my ire bubbled over.

  Whipping around, I stormed through the room, slamming my wineglass down on the small bar along the way. I stomped down the stairs and through the front doors like a bull with a red cape waving in front of its eyes.

  I knew the moment Bryce spotted me, because instead of waiting for me to reach the side of his truck, he climbed out, closing the door and resting his back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

  That was when I knew I’d made a huge mistake, because as pissed as I was, I wasn’t prepared for how just the sight of him would affect me.

  My pulse quickened and my skin grew tight. Every inch of me tingled with awareness of that man. Regardless of the heartbreak, of the pain and anger that radiated through my whole body, that nagging, insatiable longing was still very much there.

  Looking at him now, I couldn’t help but notice the changes between the man I met more ten years ago to the one standing before me. I’d been too taken off guard earlier to pay attention, but now I was. He was bigger, stronger, even more rugged than I remembered. That amazing milk and honey complexion he had, thanks to the combination of his mother’s Asian heritage and his father’s Caucasian, was slightly darker, like he spent as much time as possible in the sun. His jaw was coated in several days’ worth of inky scruff that only ramped up his attractiveness. But it was his eyes that had changed the most.

  They were that same hypnotic pale green that made my heart flip the first time I saw them, but there was a darkness below the surface now that wasn’t there before. Whatever he’d seen or done in these past years was evident in his gaze. He was carrying something around that he hadn’t had when we first met. That vibrant gleam had dulled; the light was still there, but it was only a flicker in comparison to what it used to be. My heart ached to see that brightness again. I missed it, even though I didn’t want to.

  “Hey, beauty.” His voice had that same raspy, smoky rumble with a southern drawl that made me shiver.

  Clearing my throat of the lump that had suddenly formed, I planted my hands on my hips and glared. “How did you know I was here? And don’t bother telling me this was just a coincidence. You’ve been sitting out here for almost an hour.” His chin jerked back in surprise. “Don’t be so shocked. I clocked you the minute I pulled in.”

  “This is a small town. Not too hard to find people.”

  My body reacted, my core heating, and I mentally yelled it to stop being such a whore. “You do know that stalking is illegal, right?”

  His eyelids narrowed into unhappy slits. “I’m not stalking you. I just . . .” He stopped and raked a hand through his hair—hair I knew from experience was as soft as silk—making his bicep bulge and test the strength of the seams on his long-sleeved thermal. He cleared his throat and gave his head a shake. “Fuck, Tessa. I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

  That statement would have made women around the world swoon, but instead of melting into a puddle at his feet, rage pinged around inside me like a pinball. “So now you want to see me?” I hissed, acid dripping from my words. “After years of nothing but radio silence, you’ve . . . what? Finally decided I’m worthy of your attention?”

  His jaw clenched, causing the muscle beneath his skin to quiver, but he didn’t say a word, so I kept going. “Did you ever stop to consider that maybe I didn’t want to see you?”

  He lowered his arms and pushed off the side of the truck, bringing him even closer. Too close. That woodsy, citrus scent invaded my senses, but I remained rooted in place, my pride refusing to let me back down. “Think you made that pretty fuckin’ clear earlier.”

  “Obviously I didn’t.” I waved my arms between us. “Because here you are.”

  The pain in his eyes nearly cut me to my core, but I’d be damned if I let that show. “Tessa, you have to believe me, the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

  He was killing me. Each word out of his mouth was a blade slicing across my skin. “It doesn’t matter,” I clipped. “None of it matters anymore, Bryce. You’re a coward and a liar. If you cared about me at all, you’ll do me a favor and stay the hell away from me.”

  Spinning around, I started for the inn, only to come to a stop when his voice rang out through the chilly air.

  “I never lied to you. I might be a coward, but I never lied. Not once. I meant every single word I said to you, beauty.”

  Keeping my back to him, I screwed my eyes closed against the onslaught of tears threatening to break free. I felt like I’d been tied to a rack and cut wide open, left raw and bleeding with every nerve exposed. I kept my eyes forward when I spoke next, my voice scratchy with emotion as I said, “I don’t believe you.”

  With that, I walked away, leaving what little was left of my heart on the cold, hard pavement between us.

  * * *

  Thanks to that encounter with Bryce, I’d spent the next few days holed up in my room at the inn, not wanting to risk another run-in. I was bored, going stir crazy, and exhausted. Finding sleep had been impossible. I’d spent these past few nights tossing and turning, unable to shut my brain down long enough to slip into blissful unconsciousness, and last night had been no different.


  If I didn’t get a handle on my riotous emotions, I was going to be in a world of hurts on my first official day at Hope House.

  I’d finally dozed just as the first sun rays kissed the horizon, only to be yanked out of it by the sound of my phone ringing two hours later.

  My eyes felt gritty as I forced them open, each blink like sandpaper against my corneas.

  Rubbing the sting out with one hand, I reached out with the other, blindly feeling around on the nightstand for my phone.

  “Hello?” I slurred, my voice husky with exhaustion.

  “Oh damn. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

  The sound of Rory’s voice was enough to shake off the remaining dregs of sleep. “That’s all right. I needed to get up anyway. You did me a favor.” All lies, but Rory was sweet, and I didn’t want to make her feel bad.

  “Still, sorry about that. I was calling to see if you had plans today.”

  I pushed up to sitting and swept the disheveled hair out of my face. “Not really.”

  “Oh, good!” She was far too cheerful for so early in the morning, and if she hadn’t been such a sweetheart, I might have hated her for it. “Would you like to have breakfast? Then I was thinking I could show you around town a bit before swinging by Hope House.”

  “That sounds great. I just need to get ready. Do you want to meet there?”

  A light chuckle rang through the line. “I figured it would be better if I picked you up. That way you won’t risk getting lost.”

  I shuffled into the bathroom and flicked on the light. “That works, too,” I replied, the smile evident in my voice. “Give me an hour, and I’ll be ready.”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  I disconnected and went about my morning routine. After blowing out my unruly hair and slapping on a bit of makeup, I went to my suitcase and rifled through my clothes. I dressed for warmth and comfort: a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans tucked into brown knee-high riding boots. I put on a long-sleeved cream tee and paired it with a thick blush-colored cardigan.

  I’d just finished strapping my father’s watch to my wrist when there was a knock on my door.

  Hooking my purse over my shoulder, I pulled the door open to reveal a smiling, bright-eyed Rory. “Perfect timing.”

  She extended a hand, holding a white paper cup with a plastic lid. “I know we’re doing breakfast, but I thought I’d introduce you to the brilliance of Muffin Top’s coffee.”

  I took the cup and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door to my room closed as I asked, “Muffin Top?”

  “One of the coffee shops in town. The Vanilla Bean is good too, but Muffin Top is the best. And their pastries are to die for.”

  My stomach let out a loud rumble as we headed down the stairs. “Please tell me that’s where we’re eating.”

  She laughed as we pushed through the doors into the brisk morning air. “We can swing by for a treat later. This morning, I’m taking you to Evergreen Diner, but trust me, you’re gonna love it. I promise.”

  I took my first sip of coffee and let out a grateful moan. “Okay, this is probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had, so I totally trust you.”

  She shot me a wink and beeped the locks on her car. “Awesome. I need to make one quick pitstop. Cord forgot his phone, so I need to drop it off. That okay?”

  “Fine by me.”

  As Rory drove, I gazed out the window, soaking everything in. The boarded walkways stretching along both sides of the road gave the shops and buildings the coolest old-timey vibe. The leaves on the trees had begun to turn with the change of the season. The vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds were unlike anything I’d seen back in Houston, and I was excited to see more of this amazing place.

  A few minutes later, she pulled into a parking spot that faced a wall of shiny, gleaming windows.

  I read the sign that hung over the door and asked, “Alpha Omega Investigations?”

  “Yeah. They handle private investigations and security, stuff like that. To tell you the truth, I’m not a hundred percent sure what all they do. I think it might just be a front for a bunch of ex-military guys to throw testosterone around and be badasses on a daily basis.” She killed the engine and opened her door. “Why don’t you come in with me? I’ll introduce you to Roxanne and Sage. You’re gonna love them.”

  I followed her through the glass doors and into a surprisingly modern lobby. A petite, pleasantly rounded redhead in her mid-fifties sat at the state-of-the-art reception desk and was currently chatting with another woman who had long mahogany hair and was wearing a pair of stylishly ripped jeans and biker boots.

  “Hey guys,” Rory said as we reached the reception desk. “This is Tessa Day. Tessa, this is Roxanne.” She pointed to the redhead before moving to the brunette. “And this is Sage.”

  I offered a wave and a small smile. I’d gotten a lot better at interacting with people over the years, but having grown up the way I did, I was still a bit awkward when it came to meeting new people. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

  “Ooh, I love your accent!” Sage declared. “Where are you from?”

  “Texas.”

  Roxanne spoke next. “So what brings you all the way to our little slice of heaven?”

  “Tessa’s the new director for Hope House,” Rory answered. “She just moved here. I offered to show her around town today.”

  “Awesome.” Sage beamed over at me. “Well, welcome to our crazy town. You’re gonna love it here.”

  I let out a laugh just as a big hulk of a man rounded the corner. A smirk tugged at his lips and the only way to describe the look in his eyes as he homed in on Rory was pure, unadulterated yearning.

  As soon as he was close enough, his hand shot out and he yanked her against him, lowering his mouth to give her a kiss with enough heat to make me blush. When they finally broke apart, Rory had a dreamy, somewhat glazed look on her face.

  “What have I told you about suckin’ face in my area?” Roxanne grumbled, a teasing glint in her eye. “Swear to God. One of these days, I’m gonna quit.”

  “Sorry, Rox,” Rory replied, not sounding the least bit contrite. Not that I could blame her. Her husband was gorgeous. Once she shook off the hot-guy haze, she looked back at me and grabbed my arm. “Cord, honey, this is Tessa.”

  Finally turning his attention to someone other than his wife, he grinned and shook my offered hand. “Glad to finally meet you in person, Tessa. We’re really happy you accepted the position.”

  “I am too,” I answered sincerely. “I can’t wait to get started.”

  His grin fell just a bit, his eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head to the side as he studied me closely. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

  I felt my brow pucker in confusion. “Um . . . I don’t think so. Not unless you’ve been to Texas?”

  “No. That’s not it.”

  I was in the middle of scanning my memory bank when a deep, masculine voice spoke from behind me.

  “Tessa?”

  My head turned, my eyes went wide, and my lips parted in shock. “Oh my God,” I breathed. “Hunter?”

  My limbs had locked up at the sight of him, and as he came in to give me a hug, my arms stayed pinned to my side. From the corner of my eye, I caught Rory glancing between the two of us. “You two know each other?”

  My nerves suddenly sparked to life and my heart began to buck like a wild bronco. “Um . . . a little,” I answered once he let me go and took a step back. “We met a long time ago.”

  “This is a pleasant surprise, darlin’. You here to see Bryce?”

  Oh shit.

  “That’s why you look so familiar,” Cord said, snapping his fingers like a lightbulb had just gone off. “You’re the chick from outside he was arguin’ with last week.”

  Double oh shit.

  “That’s right!” Sage cried. “That was you! How do you know Bryce?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but Hunter got there first. “She�
�s his wife.”

  And with that response, the world fell out from beneath my feet.

  Chapter Four

  Tessa

  “She’s what?”

  “His wife?”

  “Bryce is married?”

  “What the fuck?”

  The questions came from all directions, the voices so loud they made my ears ring.

  “I-no. That’s . . .” I struggled to form words. “I’m not . . .” I held my hands out, closed my eyes and shook my head. “Look it’s not what you guy—”

  “This is unbelievable!” Sage yelped. “How did I not know Bryce had a wife? How long have you guys been married?”

  “We aren’t—”

  “What is it? A little over ten years now?” Hunter asked, a tiny smirk aimed my way.

  The big jerk knew exactly what he was doing. “You aren’t helping,” I said with a menacing scowl.

  “How in the world have you guys been married ten years, and none of us knew about you?” Roxanne asked as she crossed her arms over her ample chest. Her shrewd gaze was pinned on me in a way I knew she wouldn’t stop digging until she had the answers she was looking for. “Where have you been this whole time, huh?”

  The need to defend myself to this perfect stranger reared to the forefront of my mind, but before I could get the words out, another person spoke up. “What the hell’s everyone yellin’ about?” And in the blink of an eye, everything got so much worse.

  I slowly turned my head just as Bryce cleared the mouth of the hallway behind the reception desk. That magnetic force between us kicked into action, and his attention came directly to me, as if he’d sensed me as soon as he entered the room. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “What’s going on,” Sage snapped before I could get a word in edgewise, “is that we just found out you’re married . . . and have been for the better part of a decade! What’s up with that, Bryce?”