The Second Time Around: a Hope Valley novel

by Prince, Jessica

  The vein in my temple throbbed as the two of us entered into a stare-off, the silence growing oppressive.

  “One day you’ll see I did the right thing, and when that day comes, I’ll be right here to say I told you so.”

  With that parting shot, he left me standing alone in the breakroom. His words banged around inside my head until a dull ache built behind my eyes. Needing to escape the shit-storm swirling around inside me, I headed out of the breakroom and turned toward the lobby instead of going back to my desk.

  I had a case I’d been working, a wife who suspected her husband of cheating and wanted proof so she could take him to the cleaners in a divorce settlement.

  I had two choices. I could either stay at the office to deal with busybodies and dirty looks, or I could tail the dude and snap more pics of the nasty shit he liked to get up to with his side piece during his extended lunch break.

  Usually, the thought of following this guy was enough to turn my stomach, but as I walked through the reception area and caught Rox giving me a death glare, I knew I’d done right, choosing the lesser of two evils.

  Ignoring the flames shooting from Rox’s eyes, I moved past her, muttering, “Goin’ out on a job if anyone’s looking for me.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she mumbled unhappily.

  I exited without a backward glance, climbing into my truck and leaning over to make sure the digital camera was still tucked inside the console and the battery was charged, then I hit the road. I blasted music the first half of the forty-five-minute drive to Richmond, hoping it would help clear my head. When that didn’t work, I gave up the ghost and decided to torture myself by picturing the shattered expression on Tessa’s face earlier. It was the least I deserved, considering all I’d put her through.

  Hunter was right. I’d walked away from Tessa to punish myself. But never in a million years had I stopped to consider the repercussions my actions would have on her. I’d convinced myself she’d be better for it in the long run. A woman as incredible as she was would move on. She’d find another man, maybe start a family. Although the thought of her building a life with someone else burned like acid in my veins, I wanted her to be happy. But I was also a selfish fuck.

  I’d known exactly where she was when I’d returned home. I could have found her and given her a divorce so she could be completely and totally free of me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. That one remaining link was all that held us together, and I couldn’t make myself break it. She could have another man, they could have kids together, but as long as I had that piece of paper, he couldn’t make her his, not completely, anyway.

  Like I said, I was a selfish fuck. Which made me even less deserving of her than I already was.

  I rolled to a stop across the street from the diner in a not-so-good part of town and parked. After a quick search of my target’s credit card statements, I’d easily discovered that, even though he was loaded, he was a cheap bastard when it came to his affair.

  Not wanting to risk taking his side piece somewhere where a member of his white-collared social circle might catch them, the guy always insisted on meeting up at this hole-in-the-wall eatery before taking her to the same seedy motel where you paid by the hour and renting the same shitty room.

  I got a couple shots of them making out in a booth right beside the window and was just about to head over to the motel to plant a few bugs in the room and wait when my cellphone rang.

  A quick glance at the display caused me to blow out a sigh before I engaged the call and put the phone to my ear.

  “Hey Pop, how’s it goin’?”

  “It’d be goin’ a whole hell of a lot better if I’d heard straight from the source that my son’s estranged wife was all of a sudden livin’ in the same town as him. But I guess that kinda news doesn’t warrant a call to your old man, huh?”

  I let out a colorful curse. “Christ. Don’t tell me, Hunt called you.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. What I want to know is why I didn’t hear about this from you.”

  Lowering my head, I closed my eyes against the pounding drums inside my skull and pinched the bridge of my nose. “And I guess Mom’s already heard about this too?”

  “Yep. She currently lyin’ in bed with a damp washcloth over her eyes. Told me to tell you you’ve broken her heart, and she thinks it may not heal this time.”

  Of course.

  My mom had to be the smartest, most cunning women on the planet. I was the last of three boys, and by the time I came onto the scene, Mom had already learned if she wanted to get her way in a house overrun by males, she was going to have to resort to emotional warfare, hence the broken heart.

  She had a gift when it came to getting the men in her life to bend to her will. All she had to do was give us that look of absolute disappointment and tell us we’d broken her heart, and just like that, the guilt ate us alive. As we got older our hormones overtook our brains, and that ploy stopped having as strong an effect, so she’d added to it. And let me tell you, it worked like a goddamn charm. Nothing killed the mood of a horny teenage boy like seeing his mom holed up in a dark room with a damp cloth over her eyes as she clutched at her heart.

  Guilt was how she’d gotten my oldest brother, Beckett, to break up with his girlfriend his senior year of high school. To Mom’s credit, the chick was a stone-cold bitch. The only reason Beck was with her was because he’d been thinking with his dick, and he’d been a million times happier once he’d cut her loose.

  Guilt was also how Mom got my dad to move back to Georgia after he retired from the Navy so she could be closer to her family. It was how she talked him into giving her my little sister after he insisted that three kids were more than enough, and it was how she got her dream kitchen, complete with a state-of-the-art Viking range.

  It had to be said, my mother had one of the biggest, kindest hearts imaginable, and my old man did what he did for her because she gave back just as much, but you didn’t fuck with Lily Nguyen-Dixon when she wanted something.

  “Oh, for the love of God.”

  “You know how your momma is, son. You’ve had more than ten years of her tryin’ to guilt you into rekindlin’ what you and this girl had that week in Vegas, goin’ on and on about finally bringin’ her daughter into the family fold. Now we hear from Hunt that she’s moved herself to Hope Valley, and you’ve known for a week and haven’t said a word. Did you really expect any other kind of reaction?”

  “I guess not.” I inhaled deeply, stretching my lungs to their max. “So what all did Hunter tell you?”

  “Just that she’s there, and you’ve been sittin’ with your thumbs up your ass, refusin’ to make a move.”

  Fuck me. “Pop, it’s not that simple. I hurt her. I’m just trying to spare her any more pain.”

  My dad let out a long breath through the line. “Look, son, I’m not gonna lie. When you told us you ran off and got married in Vegas, your mom and I, well, we were worried. The expiration dates on situations like that tend to be pretty damn short. But we raised you to be smart. Always had a good head on your shoulders, so when you told us it was the real deal, we put our misgivings aside and had your back. Now, you know I don’t agree with what you did to that girl. I never sugarcoated that for you. Told you straight up. You did wrong, and you kept on doin’ it with every day that passed that you didn’t hunt her down. But it looks like you got a second chance, son. Not many people are blessed with that. You let this slip through your fingers, it won’t just be your mom who’s disappointed in you, ’cause I know I raised you to be a better man than that.”

  Fuck me, knowing I’d disappoint my father hurt like a son of a bitch. “There’s nothin’ to be done, Pop. She hates me, and I don’t blame her one goddamn bit.”

  “You once charmed the old lady across the street outta her entire month’s social security, and she was mean as a rattlesnake.”

  “I don’t remember that,” I said with a heavy frown.

  “You were only five.
Runnin’ a lemonade stand in the front yard. I watched you from the window as she cleaned out her entire wallet and handed it right over. Don’t know what all you said to her, but when I went over to return her money, she couldn’t stop talkin’ about what a sweet boy you were. I knew then, if you could charm the woman every kid in the neighborhood avoided on Halloween, you could charm anybody.”

  “I think this is gonna take a lot more than charm,” I said on a chuckle.

  “Then put in the effort,” he ordered, using the same authoritative tone I’d heard a million times growing up. “If you don’t, I’m afraid your momma’s gonna get a wild hair and bring herself up there.”

  That was the last thing I needed. “Do me a favor and keep her contained while I try to work this out on my own, yeah?”

  “I’ll do my best, but you know there’s no stoppin’ that woman when she wants somethin’, so I suggest you move fast.”

  “Just . . . I don’t know.” I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. “Tell her you guys can come up and meet her once I get this whole thing sorted, yeah? That’ll hold her over, at least for a little while.”

  “Don’t you worry. I’ll handle things on this end. You just take care of business on yours.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And son?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have your back. I love you, and I’ll always have your back. No matter what.”

  My throat grew tight, but I managed to croak out, “Love you too, old man. Talk soon.”

  I ended the call, stuffed the phone into the cupholder beside me, and tossed the camera into the passenger seat. Then I headed to the motel.

  While I waited for them to finish their business and leave so I could get back in and collect the bugs I’d put in place, I tried to puzzle out just how in the hell I was going to win Tessa back.

  Because there was no other option. I’d let her go once already.

  There was no way I could do that again.

  Chapter Six

  Tessa

  “Hey, Tess.”

  Looking up from the spreadsheet on my computer, I glanced toward the door where Reggie, one of the daytime volunteers, stood just inside my office. “Hey, Reg. What’s up?”

  He gave me a sympathetic wince, and I knew whatever he was about to say next wasn’t going to be good. “Hate to do this to you; I know you already have a lot on your plate, but a call just came in from the police station.”

  I’d been working at Hope House for a few weeks now, and I’d been surprised at how efficiently the place was running. Rory and Cord, along with the residents of Hope Valley, had worked their asses off to make this place a true safe haven. The volunteers and staff were incredible: caring, well trained, and extremely patient.

  I knew all too well this job wasn’t for the faint-hearted. I had an incredible team at my back, but that didn’t mean the job was without its fair share of difficulties. Nothing messed with a kid’s head like feeling unwanted. That led to them acting out for attention, whether that attention was good or bad. And we currently had twelve kids under our care who were all suffering with loss or abandonment issues.

  I flopped back in my chair with a weary sigh. “You’re kidding. About who?”

  “Charity Winslow,” he said, his tone laced with exasperation. “She got picked up shoplifting with a couple other girls from her class.”

  I was always mindful of watching my language when I was at the house, but in that moment, I wanted to throw out every word I could think of, and maybe make up a few for good measure.

  “Diana and I were about to start dinner, but if you want, I can go pick her up.”

  I gave Reggie a tired smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got this.” I stood from my desk, collecting the necessary paperwork I’d need so Charity could be released into my care, and stuffed it all in my satchel. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Reggie gave me a wink before heading off to the kitchen while I moved toward the front doors.

  As a caseworker back in Houston, I’d had to deal with the police on more than a handful of occasions, and each encounter had left a bad taste in my mouth, so I wasn’t looking forward to my first brush with the cops in Hope Valley. Because these were foster children, there was already a stigma in place, and most of the time they were viewed as lost causes. As far as a lot adults were concerned, these were troubled kids already headed down a dark path. So most of the time they were written off without so much as a second glance.

  Pulling into an empty parking spot in front of the large brick building, I killed the engine and stared out the windshield at the big white letters that spelled POLICE above the double glass doors.

  With a fortifying breath, I steeled my spine and headed inside. The woman behind the front desk held a phone to her ear, and as I approached, she gave me a cursory glance before lifting a single finger in the universal sign for “Just a minute”.

  Clasping my hands, I rested them on the ledge and waited for her to finish her phone call. Only, she didn’t finish. One minute ticked into two, and despite her efforts to keep her voice low, I’d been able to hear enough to know she was having a personal chat with a friend.

  “Um, excuse me.”

  She kept her face averted and acted as if she hadn’t heard me. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbled to the person across the line. “And did you see what she was wearing?”

  “Excuse me,” I bit out, my agitation with the snooty receptionist having officially boiled over. The woman let out a huff and rolled her eyes, giving me that same one-minute finger again, and with that, I snapped. “No, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to wait so you can chat with your girlfriend. I need assistance now.”

  “Hang up the phone, Sue Ellen.”

  I spun around at the masculine voice. I hadn’t seen him approach while I was waiting on the rude woman behind the desk, but now that he had my attention, I felt my breath quicken.

  I wasn’t sure what it was about this town, but in the weeks I’d been here, it had become obvious that Hope Valley was a mecca for some of the hottest men in the country, and this guy was no exception. Standing a little over six feet, his solid build was covered by a pair of nice black slacks and a white button-down. His shirt was open at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal well defined forearms. Had it not been for the gun and badge clipped to his belt, he looked like he would have belonged on the cover of GQ, not standing in the middle of a small-town police station.

  As it was, I could easily picture him in a calendar starring some the hottest men of Hope Valley.

  At the thunk of the phone being put back into the cradle, the man spoke again. “That’s your last warnin’,” he said to the woman. “One more personal call while you’re mannin’ this desk, and you can find yourself another job.”

  The color leeched from her face, and she began to sputter, but before she could say a word, the man turned his angry gaze from her and graced me with a smile that made my knees a bit wobbly.

  “Sorry about that. I’m Leo Drake.”

  “Tessa Day,” I replied, taking his offered hand for a quick shake.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tessa Day. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m here for Charity Winslow.”

  Leo’s expression grew serious. “Ah. I see. You her mom?”

  “No.” Reaching into my satchel, I pulled out the paperwork I needed. “I’m actually the director over at Hope House. Charity’s one of my kids. Everything you need to release her into my custody is right here.”

  He took the documents and gave them a scan before looking back to me. “Heard Cord and Rory had hired someone. Welcome to Hope Valley, Ms. Day.”

  “Tessa’s just fine. And thank you, officer.”

  That grin returned, making my belly swoop. “Detective, actually. But feel free to call me Leo.”

  “Oh, okay. Then, thank you, Leo.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you where to go.”

  Without looking back at the
receptionist, he led me to a set of stairs. I followed him through a bustling bullpen to a closed conference room door where he rapped his knuckles against the wood before grabbing the knob and pushing it open.

  I spotted Charity sitting on one side of the long table beside two other girls her age. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she wore that same pinched, sour expression that had graced her pretty face almost every day since I’d started at the home.

  Every child at Hope House struggled with their own issues, but Charity in particular was more defiant than the rest. Thanks to her mom being a drug addict and no idea as to the identity of Charity’s father, the girl had spent the majority of her thirteen years bouncing in and out of the system. Her mom would get her act together and clean herself up just long enough to regain custody, only to lose it again when she relapsed or got picked up by the police.

  The woman’s latest arrest had been her third strike, and she’d lost custody of Charity for good. Now the only time she was allowed to see her daughter was during the few supervised visits a month the court had granted her.

  The constant displacement had bred fear into Charity. Not knowing what would happen from one day to the next had taken its toll and she’d formed an impenetrable barrier around herself that was so thick it had made the poor girl hard as stone.

  She acted out constantly, skipping school, failing her classes, picking fights with the other kids in the house, and breaking curfew.

  “Tessa, this is Officer Duncan,” Leo said, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned my focus from the sullen girl to the uniformed officer standing in the room. “He’s the officer who picked the girls up, so he’ll be able to fill you in on everything.”

  “Wonderful,” a woman snapped. I turned to look toward the back of the room and noticed for the first time three other people, two women and a man, who I assumed were the parents of the other two girls. “I take it you’re the one responsible for this delinquent,” the woman with a short blonde bob hissed, throwing her finger in Charity’s direction.