Once More Chance (Chance #2; Rosemary Beach #8) (3 page)

“Who is it?” I asked, afraid to look. I was getting weak. If it was Grant, I wasn’t sure I could ignore him anymore.

“Blaire,” Mase replied, tossing the phone into my lap. “I’m heading down to the barn. Got some feed coming in, and I need to show Major what jobs I’m passing off to
him now he’s settled in. You need to talk to Blaire. Then think about calling Grant.”

I touched Answer on my phone, then held it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey. Haven’t heard from you in a few days. I wanted to check in and see how things were going.” Blaire didn’t know about the pregnancy. I trusted her with everything
except keeping secrets from Rush. She’d tell him, and I knew Rush would tell Grant. He wouldn’t be able not to. So I kept that secret close.

“I’m doing fine,” I replied, not even believing my own voice. “How are things there?” I asked, unable to say his name.

“You mean, how’s Grant? He isn’t doing well. Still the same pattern. Lots of work and little sleep. He doesn’t talk to anyone but Rush, and now he’s begging Rush
daily to tell him where to find you. He’s pitiful, Harlow. He needs to hear your voice.”

My heart squeezed, and I blinked away the tears in my eyes. Knowing he was hurting was hard to accept. But how could I call him and not break down on him and tell him how much I missed him? That
wouldn’t help anything. He would only be more hurt when I refused to tell him where I was. “I’m not ready,” I told her.

Blaire let out a sigh, and I heard Nate’s laughter in the background. Baby laughter was all I needed to remind myself why I couldn’t let Grant know what was going on.

“Blaire, can I ask you something?” It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“Of course,” she replied.

Nate’s little voice started chanting “Dada” over and over.

“Hold on a sec. Rush just walked in, and Nate gets excited when he sees his daddy. Let me take this in another room,” Blaire said.

I wanted what Blaire had. More than anything . . . I wanted that. I wanted to watch Grant with our baby. The child we created. The child that was inside me. But would Grant want that?

“OK, I can hear you better now. What is it you want to ask me?”

Closing my eyes tightly, I hoped this wasn’t a mistake. “Before Nate was born, would you have given your life for his? Did you love him that much?”

Blaire didn’t answer. She was silent for several seconds, and I started to think I’d said too much. That she would figure out why I was asking her this.

“He was a part of Rush and me. I would have done anything for him from the moment I knew he was inside me. So, yes,” she said. Her words were slow and almost tortured, but I knew she
was being honest. I also knew that she’d understand my choice. “But Rush wouldn’t have felt the same way,” she added.

The emotion clogging my throat made it difficult to respond. “Yeah. I didn’t think so. I, uh, I need to go. I’ll talk to you soon.” I didn’t wait for her to reply
before ending the call, dropping my phone into my lap, and covering my face with both hands, letting the sorrow free. I sobbed for the life I might not be able to give my baby, for the possibility
that I might not be there if the baby
was
born, and for the life I wanted so badly with Grant but feared I’d never have. I cried until all the tears dried up. Until I couldn’t
cry any more. Then I covered my stomach with my hands and sat there as the breeze dried my tear-streaked face. It was time I found the strength I needed to do this. To say I wasn’t scared of
dying was a lie. I was terrified, but I would do it if it meant this baby inside me could live. This life was a part of me and the man I loved. The only man I would ever love.

Before I’d met Grant, I hadn’t known what it felt like to be completely in love. I had watched couples and daydreamed about the day a man would look at me with devotion and adoration
in his eyes. I had imagined walking down the aisle toward a man who saw and loved only me. A man who loved me in all of my awkwardness. A man who loved me and my imperfect heart. For a moment, I
was sure I had found that . . .

My thoughts were interrupted by Maryann’s red Dodge truck coming down the gravel road that led from the white farmhouse to Mase’s log cabin. Maryann hadn’t been by in a couple
of days. Major had been a good distraction for her. I knew my next doctor’s appointment was coming up. They wanted me in every week since I was considered high-risk. But I wasn’t sure
which day she had set my next visit for.

Instead of going to lunch at the house, I had stayed here the past two days. Alone. I was safe alone. I also wanted to give them time to talk about family things with Major. I knew he
wasn’t comfortable discussing them in front of me. I wasn’t his family. The only problem was, I had nothing to do to fill my time. I was left to my thoughts. Reading was something I
used to escape into, but now I couldn’t seem to stay focused on the story.

My thoughts were always on Grant and the future.

The truck came to a stop, Maryann’s door swung open, and her jeans-clad legs swung out as she jumped down. She was a natural beauty. Every cowgirl I had ever imagined looked like Maryann
to me. Tall and slender, always dressed in snug jeans, riding boots, and a button-down plaid shirt tied at her waist. The cowboy hat on her head was the finishing touch. It wasn’t feminine at
all but dirty and used.

She walked up the steps and turned to look at me with the concerned frown of a mother. A mother I’d never really had. “You trying to worry me, girl?” she asked, studying me
closely.

I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I just haven’t been hungry, and I need to be alone.”

Her frown lines increased. “You been up here crying is what it looks like to me. Crying ain’t good for you, your heart, or that baby. You gotta snap out of this. If you’re
crying over that Carter boy, then call him. Talk to him. You need the full force of your strength and willpower if you’re gonna do this, girl. You can’t be depressed and ready to give
up.”

I hadn’t thought about that. But talking to Grant meant I could no longer protect him. “This will terrify him. I’m trying to keep him safe from this. His greatest fear in life
is losing someone he loves.”

Maryann put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding me. Is that boy so much of a wimp that he can’t handle life? If he’s a real man, he’ll
step up and be the rock you need right now. If he can’t do that, then he ain’t worth your time.”

She didn’t know how broken Grant had looked when he’d found out about my heart. He was a wonderful man who had trusted me. I had kept something from him that would have spared him
from getting hurt. If I had just told him about my heart the day he showed up in my room with Chinese food, he never would have risked this. He would have been safe. I wouldn’t have known
what it felt like to be held by him or touched, but he would be safe. His heart would be safe. I’d selfishly taken that choice away from him.

“He deserves more,” I told her. That was all I could say.

“To hell he does. If he won your love, then he won the lottery. You hear me? He’s a lucky man. Nothing else matters. You’re a beautiful, smart, loving, pure woman who lights up
the people around her.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Thank you.”

Maryann loved me like a mother would. Growing up, she had been a great stand-in, though my mind sometimes wandered to what life would have been like under different circumstances. Until
recently, I had believed my mother died in an accident. A few months ago, I discovered she was alive in a hospital in Los Angeles, though mentally vacant and incapable of most basic functions. When
the media discovered the secret, they also discovered me, which was why my face was spread across TV screens throughout America.

She walked over and sat down on the swing beside me. “Don’t thank me for being honest. Just calling it like I see it.”

I often wondered how someone like Maryann could have gotten mixed up with my dad. She was so real. So full of life and so smart. The man she had spent most of her life with made sense. They fit.
But Maryann and Kiro were a hard couple to imagine.

“You’re tough, you’re strong. You always have been. Even as a baby, you were so determined. Kiro adored you, but now you know he worshipped your mother. She was his light. She
found the man inside no one else had ever seen and drew him out. Watching him with her amazed me. I couldn’t hate her. In fact, I admired her. She was such a sweet soul, just like you. I see
her in you so much. So does your dad.” She stopped and squeezed my knee. “If you want this baby, then I believe you can do it. I believe you’re strong enough. I’ve seen that
strength throughout your life, and I think you can do it, but you have to embrace it. Don’t let pain and fear control you, or you’ll lose.”

I let her words sink in and realized she was right. It was time I got strong. My baby needed it. And I needed to be strong for all of us.

“T
his is the fifty-seventh message. Fifty-seven days. I’m sitting here staring out at the Gulf, like I used to do with you. Nothing is
the same without you here. I can’t even go near the bar in my kitchen. Remembering what we did there is too difficult. Everything reminds me of you. If I could hear your voice tonight,
Harlow, if I could just hear you tell me you’re OK . . . I would be better. I would be able to take a deep breath. Then I’d beg. I would beg you to love me. I would beg you to forgive
me. I can’t—”

BEEP

I stood on my balcony staring out at the water as voice mail cut me off, then disconnected the call. Watching the waves crash over the shore used to comfort me. Now they reminded me of the fear
that had started all of this. The fear that had made me say words to Harlow that she didn’t deserve to hear.

Losing Jace had marked me deeper than I realized. You live your life never once thinking that when you walk away from a friend or loved one, you might never see him again. Drowning in the Gulf
was the last way I expected to lose a close friend. It was unexpected and tragic, and it had changed everything for me.

I had wanted to protect myself from that kind of pain in the future. Moving on and living normally after that was impossible. Bethy, Jace’s girlfriend, was proof of that. She was like a
ghost now. She never smiled, and she rarely spoke. The happy gleam in her eyes was gone. I hated being near her. I hated being reminded of what could happen to all of us. She wasn’t living
without Jace—she was just surviving.

I let the hand holding the phone to my ear drop to my side, then tucked it into my jeans pocket and turned to go inside. Away from the water that had changed everything for me, that had changed
the lives of all of Jace’s close friends. None of us would ever be the same again. But I knew that I couldn’t protect myself from that kind of pain. Because, like Bethy, I was just
surviving now. With Harlow gone, I had no reason to smile. The pain was too much. Trying not to love her was impossible—it shattered me and brought me to my knees.

My phone started ringing, and I quickly jerked it back out of my pocket. Every time it rang, my heart started beating with the hope that it was Harlow. Rush’s name appeared on the screen.
As much as I wanted to smash my phone against the wall in frustration, he was still my only link to Harlow.

“Yeah,” I said, closing the door and walking to my bedroom.

“I need your help. Meet me at the club as soon as possible. I’m headed that way now.”

I wasn’t going to the club. It was time for my nightly routine, and I didn’t want to face people. “Why? I’m exhausted.”

Rush muttered a curse. “Get your ass to the club. Tripp showed up, and apparently Bethy was at the bar drinking too much, and now she’s yelling at him and saying all kinds of crazy
shit. Blaire wanted to go, but Nate isn’t feeling that great, and he wants his momma. I told her you and I would check things out and bring Bethy back to my house.”

Bethy and Tripp? That didn’t even make sense. Why would Bethy be yelling at Tripp? Jace had adored his cousin. Always had. There was no reason in my mind why Bethy should be mad at him.
“OK. Yeah, I’ll see you in a few.”

“Thought so,” Rush replied, then ended the call.

No one had seen Bethy do much more than move quietly through life since Jace’s death. But she was drinking at the club? That didn’t make any sense, either. She worked there as a cart
girl. Why was she drunk at the bar? Her aunt would fire her ass without blinking an eye if she found out. Not that it would stick. Blaire would get upset and ask Rush, who was on the board of
directors, to do something about it. Della wouldn’t be happy, either, and seeing as how her boyfriend, Woods, owned the place—and did everything in his power to make her
happy—he’d do something about it, too. But still. What the fuck was she thinking?

I grabbed my truck keys and headed out the door to deal with Bethy.

I could hear Bethy yelling the moment I stepped out of the truck, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from. It was too loud to be coming from inside, so someone had to
have gotten Bethy to the parking lot. I closed my truck door and followed the sound. Near the staff entrance, I saw Rush holding Bethy’s arms down and talking to her. Tripp stood there,
running his hands through his hair as if he wasn’t sure what the hell to do. Woods talked to him quietly, and all Tripp did was shake his head no in return.

“Come back to the house with me. Blaire wants you there. You need her right now. You also need to sober up. Tripp didn’t do anything to you, Bethy. You’re still grieving, and
he was the closest person you could find to take it out on.” Rush’s voice was gentle but demanding.

“You don’t know shit, Rush! Youdonknowshit!” Bethy slurred, shoving at Rush’s chest. “No one knows! But he does!” she screamed, pointing a finger at Tripp.
“He ruined me! He broke me. I wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough! It’s all his fault. He came back. Why did you come back, huh? Were you trying to hurt me? You fucking
succeeded!
You
are the reason my life is hell on earth!” She was trembling now.