Their Second Chance Love. Kat Brookes
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him this for Christmas when I was in eighth grade.”
Logan eyed the key-laden piece. “Reckon it meant a lot to him for him to still be carrying it around.”
She laughed softly. “I probably should’ve bought him a cowboy boot key chain or something a little more manly. But I was big on flowers and anything and everything pink back then. I remember drawing pink flowers all over my school folders.”
“Back then?” he said with a snort as he reached for the handle on the driver’s door panel. “It went well beyond eighth grade. I seem to recall you doodling flowers all over my book covers when we were in high school.” His gaze shifted her way to find Hope biting back a grin. “Funny to you, little darlin’,” he said with a grin of his own. “Not so funny when you’re a teenage boy wanting to come across as rough and tough on the football field and your teammates are calling you ‘Pretty Posey Cooper.’”
A giggle erupted from her lips. “You never told me that.”
“And make myself come across as less than manly in your eyes as well as my teammates? Not a chance.”
“Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”
“They were only having fun with me,” he replied. “Truth be told, it improved my game. In an effort to prove myself more than just a ‘Pretty Posey,’ I broke the high school’s record for total receiving yards our junior year.”
“I had no idea I was the reason behind that impressive achievement,” she said, her tone teasing.
She was behind so many things that had been good in his life. Yanking up the collar of his jacket, he said, “I’ll grab your suitcase.” Tugging the brim of his hat lower over his brow to shield his face from the driving rain, Logan stepped out into the downpour. After grabbing her suitcase from the back of the truck’s extended cab, he hurried around to help Hope get down, but by the time he reached her she was already stepping onto the puddled ground below.
Squealing as the cold rain poured down on her, she made a sprint for the front door of the large cedar-sided building, her laughter trailing after her as she left him behind.
Logan followed at a fast jog, suitcase in hand, a grin sliding across his face. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed hearing Hope’s laughter until that moment. “Afraid you’re gonna melt?” he asked with a chuckle as he stepped beneath the temporary shelter of the roof’s overhang.
She flashed him an impish smile. “Daddy does call me Sugar, you know.” Then she turned, hurrying to insert the key into the lock on the door as a gust of wind sent sheets of cold rain past them.
“Stands to reason, then, why you’re in such an all-fire hurry to get out of this here downpour,” he said. He nearly covered her hand with his own to help steady it, but held back from doing so. He didn’t want to remember what it felt like to have her hand in his, something that had once been so natural. As soon as the lock clicked, he reached past her to turn the knob, giving the door a gentle shove open. “Let’s get you inside, little darlin’. Can’t have you melting into a puddle of sugary sweetness at my feet.”
Before he could follow her inside, she turned, her petite form blocking his way. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Thank you for the ride?” He looked down at her questioningly. “That sounds like you’re sending me off.”
“I am,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “There’s really no need for you to stick around tonight. All I need to do is close out the register and then I’ll head to the house.”
His brow tugged upward. “You’re asking me to leave you here to walk home in the rain?”
“It’s not like it’s a long walk,” she countered.
She had the right of it. Jack’s house sat in a thin copse of pines a few hundred yards behind the main nursery building. “Maybe so,” he grumbled, “but I don’t like the thought of leaving you here to walk home alone in the dark. In the pouring rain to boot.”
“Daddy keeps a handful of umbrellas in his office for customers to borrow on rainy days if they need one.”
His concerned refused to budge. At the same time, a tiny voice inside Logan was telling him to back off. That Hope was a big girl. One who was more than capable of making her own decisions in life. Even if they weren’t always ones he agreed with. “Reckon I’ll be on my way, then. Sleep well,” he said with a tip of his hat.
“You, too, Logan.” The door closed between them, shutting him out yet again. At least this time it was only a door. Not miles and miles of God’s green earth.
Lowering his head, he moved in quickened strides to his truck before he did something foolish like turn around and go back to insist that he escort Hope home. He’d thought he was finally moving past the unrequited feelings he had for her. That time and distance had given him a better grip on his apparently misguided emotions. But he’d been nowhere near prepared for his heart’s reaction to spending time with her again. Laughing with her again. Now all he could do was pray.
For Jack to regain his good health. And for himself, knowing there would be no escaping the pain of seeing Hope again, of spending time with her, and knowing her heart would never ever be his.
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