Second Chance (2 page)

Marnie wanted to melt into the floor. God. Someone was standing up for her. Someone with a lovely Irish accent and a calm, steady voice.

She looked over at Collin in gratitude, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was frowning at her father—
Brent
—who rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air as though dismissing how unacceptable his kid’s behavior was. “Whatever. It’s a lame
bookmark
. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

She felt, rather than heard, the entire room suck in an angry breath. Before anyone else could jump in, Collin spoke again. “Children,” he announced, but he didn’t take his eyes off of her dad. “Saying things like what Patrick’s dad just said is wrong. Please don’t repeat that. Taking things from someone without saying thank you is wrong. Even if you don’t love the gift, someone spent time, thought, and probably money to give it to you. That deserves a thank you.”

“Who do you think you are?” Brent was scowling, jaw jutting out in belligerence.

“I’m Collin Morgan. And I
know
who I am. More importantly, I know who you are, too.”

At that, Brent stiffened and grabbed Patrick’s arm, and not very gently. For the first time in her life, Marnie wondered if maybe she’d been
lucky
that he had walked out on her and Mom when she was young.

“Come on, Patrick. Let’s leave these losers to celebrate their ridiculous bookmarks.”

But just as they left the children’s room, Brent stumbled, tripping over something on the carpeted floor and pitching forward. He was holding onto Patrick so tightly that they both went toppling to the ground in a mess of shouts and protests.

She immediately ran to help them, but the other first-graders were too fast. They came pouring out of the children’s room, blocking her way. “The Ghost got you! It was the Ghost! He got you!” They were all shouting and laughing and pointing at the two, still tangled up on the floor.

Brent scrambled to his feet, tugging Patrick with him toward the exit. His face was so red with anger, she nearly apologized on the spot, but a hand on her arm stayed her, and she looked up in surprise to find Collin looking at her with a little smile.

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“I’ll sue this stupid town for everything it’s worth! This library is a safety hazard!” Brent yelled that last bit just before the doors shut behind them.

After that, the children and parents quickly gathered up their things and left. Marnie thanked them all as they hurried out the door, talking excitedly—almost giddily—over the ruckus that had just occurred. Within minutes, she was standing completely alone in the hallway, feeling like a whirlwind had somehow blown in and rearranged her life without her realizing it until it was too late.

And she hadn’t even had a chance to thank Collin for standing up to Brent. 

Her shoulders slumped.

“Here, Miss Thomas.” A voice at her elbow startled Marnie, and she had to stifle a yelp. When she looked down, the little blonde girl from earlier—Collin’s daughter—was standing next to her, holding out a bookmark. “You can take mine back. It’s a great bookmark, but I don’t want Patrick to make you feel so bad. If he did that to me I’d probably cry.”

Oh God. What a darling.
“Thank you so much, um—what’s your name?”

“I’m Claire.”

“Claire, thank you so much. But someone as generous as you deserves not only to keep that bookmark, but to have another one. That way, you can read as much as you want.” She pulled another bookmark from the stack and gave it to Claire, who squealed with job.

“That was really good of you, Marnie.” Collin came out of the reading room, holding a bright pink windbreaker, which only served to accent how masculine and muscular and imposing and…
sexy
he was.

And he’d remembered her name.

There was that breathless feeling again.

Her heart thudded in her throat, pushing the words out. “I can’t thank you enough—”

“It’s been a long time—”

They spoke at the same time, and it took her a moment to realize that he was holding out his hand, as though they were being introduced for the first time. After so long, it almost felt like it.

She took his hand tentatively, sliding her smaller palm into his, feeling the rough calluses and strong grip. Her own hands were soft, but strong, as well. She could pinch a large dictionary between her thumb and forefinger and carry it across the library without so much as a waver.

But they were nothing like his.

She was so turned on by the feel of that hand.

Which was already slipping out of her grasp, too soon. She wanted to tighten her grip, to hang on to the first person in so long who had made her feel something more than just a sad resignation, but she restrained herself. Barely.

Next thing you know you’ll have a dozen cats and be wandering the streets in your nightgown.

She put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers tightly together.

Collin held out the pink jacket to Claire, who slipped into it and gave a small wave to Marnie. “Thanks for the story, Miss Thomas. Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween,” Marnie replied, managing a smile and a nod to Claire. Collin took her hand and led her out the door.

“See you around,” he called over his shoulder, and then they were gone, leaving Marnie standing alone in the foyer once again.

“Story of my life,” she said aloud, but for a fraction of a second, she had the oddest sensation…like the air was listening. Like she wasn’t actually alone.

But then she realized how insane that thought sounded.
May as well take the rest of the day off and go find a few cats to adopt.
That weird feeling was probably only the effect of too much excitement this morning, that’s all. Running in to her dad. Seeing Collin…

“Collin Morgan is
not
for you.” Speaking the words out loud seemed to help her resolve a bit, because as soon as she said them, she squared her shoulders and turned toward her office.

This time, she ignored the way the air seemed to not only be listening, but laughing, as well.

Chapter Two

Collin took off his gloves and slid them on to Claire’s hands. A single one of the wool-lined brown leather gloves could have held three of his niece’s hands—not that she had three, of course—but she seemed to enjoy flexing her fingers inside of the warmth.

“Thanks, Uncle Collin.” Claire beamed up at him, and he couldn’t resist tweaking her nose. She was such a sweet little girl, always eager to make him or her mother laugh. Ever since Graham had run out on Deirdre, it was hard to make his sister smile. Even when they’d emigrated from Ireland, when Collin was thirteen and Deirdre was ten, she hadn’t lost her sunny spark and ability to see the good in everything. But Graham’s abandonment had changed that.

That constant melancholy that Deirdre carried with her was so different from the personality she’d grown up with that it was almost as though his true sister were gone, replaced with some stranger who was dying from the inside out.

Someone had to take care of her and Claire. It was why he was making an effort to be more involved. It wasn’t easy, trying to find the time away from work. But it was worth it.

He looked down at the little girl and ruffled her hair. “That better?”

She nodded. “Toasty warm!”

He grinned. “Why don’t we head over to Kiki’s for some hot chocolate? I think we’ve visited nearly all the shops on Main Street now. It’s almost time for me to get you home, anyway.”

Claire wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t cry or object. “Can we just go to one more place before Kiki’s? Please?”

Collin looked down into those wide blue eyes and wondered…if he ever had a daughter, would she have those same blue eyes, like his, or big brown ones ringed with thick, dark lashes…

Like Marnie Thomas’s eyes.

It had been a shock to see her today, for the first time in nearly ten years, and not just because he hadn’t realized that she had become the new librarian. The shy, gawky girl he remembered from high school had become a gorgeous woman. Her skin had cleared and she’d filled out quite a bit in all the right places. He’d found himself wondering what her dark hair might look like when she took it out of that stern bun, whether it was long and wavy like it had been in high school, and how it might feel, sliding over his bare chest.

That thought had surprised the hell out of him. He’d never thought of Marnie that way. He’d always liked her. She was a sweet, smart girl who he suspected had a crush on him all those years ago. But he’d never wondered what she looked like naked.

Until today.

The sensual images that had filled his mind when he’d seen her earlier had surprised him enough that when that sniveling little jerk of a kid had tossed the bookmark in the trash can, Collin had been too distracted to react right away. But when that kid’s dad had been so obviously uncaring, his brain had finally caught up to the situation and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from saying anything.

And he’d been impressed with the way Marnie handled herself in the situation. It was her quiet confidence that had struck him, more than anything. She seemed to have acquired a spine of steel at some point, and she had used it to remain calm throughout the afternoon’s activity.

Weird, that he would notice so much about her. She wasn’t his usual type. Not that the flashy women he was known for dating were really his type, either. But until today, he’d always been too busy to care. As a real estate developer who had built the homes of most of Coventon’s pro team football players, he had become good friends with the owner and manager of the team, and many of the players, too, which had led to a lot more contracts but a lot less free time.

It suited his schedule to date women who were easily satisfied by the small investment of money or the chance to hobnob with famous athletes—not poetically gorgeous librarians with quiet dignity.

Claire grabbed his hand, the too-large glove flopping around as she curled her fingers around his from inside the leather. “Come on, Uncle Collin!”

In his pocket, his phone started buzzing. Shit. He couldn’t take it out just as they were crossing the street. And he could see where she was taking him—toward Stitches and Such, at the end of the block of shops on that side.

He almost groaned. His high school girlfriend owned the shop, and he didn’t relish seeing her today.

Buzz buzz buzz.

“Hold on, sweetie. I’m getting a phone call. I’ve got to take it.”

Claire stopped and frowned. “That’s the fourth phone call you’ve gotten since we left the library. I thought you said we were going to spend some special time together.”

God, she sounded just like Deirdre when she talked like that. He gave a small sigh and met her eyes, and the hurt in them gave him pause. “So I did.” He let the phone slip back inside his pocket, and took her hand again. “Come on, pet. Let’s go.”

She squealed in delight and did a little skip-hop onto the curb, all trace of annoyance gone. Once they were on the sidewalk, she pulled on his hand until he looked down at her. “Did you do this when you were little, too?”

He shook his head. “By the time Gran and Papa and your ma and I moved here from Donegal, I was already fourteen and your ma was nearly twelve. I was too old for this.”

“Doesn’t Ireland have Halloween?”

“Aye, it does.” He grinned at himself when he realized he’d slipped back into the brogue of his childhood. He and Deirdre had lost the heaviness of their accents fairly quickly, but sometimes when he talked about the past, it came back.

It had been a pretty easy transition, all things considered. He’d liked living in Wilford. It had been a nice change of pace from Donegal. Similar feeling, but at least in America, Da wasn’t known as a cheat and ostracized for something that he hadn’t done. And they were still poor, but they’d been accepted. He’d even go so far as to say that he’d been popular.

But it had been hard on Ma. And Deirdre had complained about how it was hard for her to make friends. She’d said the local girls had a way of banding together against outsiders, and it meant she was too often alone.

One of those local girls had been Natalie, who owned Stitches and Such.

He
really
didn’t feel like seeing her again. Especially not today, when he was only back here because he was trying to help Deirdre, not dredge up bad memories.

Maybe they could go back to the library. Definitely no bad memories there. In fact, there was something decidedly
good
about Marnie Thomas. No. Not just good. The stuff of fantasies. Those plump, pink lips on his, his hands on her lush hips, her long legs wrapped around his waist—

Christ, he was getting distracted. And that meant Claire was leading him ever closer to Stitches and Such. He forced himself to focus.

“Hey, pet.” He stopped and knelt down in front of Claire. “I have an idea. Why don’t we skip this last place and instead go back home and see if your mom wants to
join
us at Kiki’s?”

Claire’s eyes lit up and her head bobbed up and down excitedly. Collin’s heart squeezed. It was so obvious how much she loved her mother and craved Deidre’s attention, though he knew she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

“Let’s go right away!”

At least he was getting what he wanted.

Well, sort of, anyway. Hot chocolate wasn’t exactly a substitute for hot sex, though it had been a while since he’d had either. Maybe that’s why he was so distracted by Marnie.

Except…somehow, he didn’t think so.

Claire took his hand and tugged, pulling him toward one of the side streets that led back to his childhood home, where Deirdre had moved back in after that son of a bitch Graham abandoned his wife and daughter.

When they banged their way in the door, Deirdre was in the kitchen, still dressed in work clothes. She looked exhausted. But what caught Collin’s eyes was the broad smile on his sister’s face.

Claire launched herself at Deirdre, who enveloped her daughter in a strong hug. “Oh, look at you! You make a great Power Ranger, love. Did you get way too much candy for your own good?”