Once More Chance (Chance #2; Rosemary Beach #8) (23 page)

H
arlow was bathing, and I was on Lila Kate duty. She was sleeping peacefully, but Harlow didn’t like for her to wake up and cry because we
weren’t there. Harlow said she was scared, and she wanted to make sure we were there.

I laid the stack of letters wrapped in the red satin ribbon down in front of me on the bed. I was almost afraid to look at the descriptions on each one. I didn’t want to think about the
circumstances in which I would have to read these. It hurt even to think about. But Harlow had written these letters for me.

One was labeled for the day after her funeral. One was for the first time I took care of Lila Kate alone. One was for the day she started kindergarten. One was for the day I thought I could love
again. That one I wasn’t going to be able to open, because that day would have never come. I couldn’t love someone else or even try to, because it wouldn’t have been fair to that
person. In my heart, it would have always been Harlow. No one could take her place. And every time our daughter smiled up at me, I would be able to see her mother and remember the sacrifice she
made so this perfect little girl could have a life.

“You’re being quiet. Are you asleep?” Harlow called out from her bath.

I picked up the letters and walked to the bathroom. She noticed them immediately, and a smile touched her lips. If I didn’t have her, these letters would have been golden. But she was
here.

“Are you going to read them?” she asked.

I looked down at them and then back at her. “No,” I replied. “I don’t need to. They were for a Grant who didn’t have his Harlow. I have my Harlow. That Grant
doesn’t exist. The broken, empty man you wrote these to will never exist. But I’m going to keep them. Pack them away. Maybe one day, we’ll pull them down and remember. Just not
today.”

She tilted her head to the side, and a wet curl brushed her neck. “You wouldn’t have been empty. Lila Kate would have filled the emptiness I left behind.”

Maybe she would have. But she never could have made up for the fact that the women who owned my soul was gone. “Lila Kate will always be my baby girl. I will cherish and love her until the
day I die. But you . . . you’re the love of my life. You’re my forever. I’ll grow old loving you.”

Harlow sighed, but it was a happy sigh. “You are a smooth talker, Grant Carter. A real smooth talker.”

“Harlow?”

She sat up in the water. “Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

She giggled and held up her ring finger, which had the diamond ring on it. “We already did this. Remember? I said yes.”

“Tomorrow. Will you marry me tomorrow?”

She looked at me a moment like I had lost my mind. “We just got home from the hospital.”

I nodded. “Yes, but I want to call you my wife. I want your last name to be Carter. I want you to be mine.”

“I am yours. I have been for a very long time now.”

“Please.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked like she was contemplating it. Finally, she let her bottom lip free. “Three weeks. Give me three weeks. I can get Blaire’s help to get a dress, and
it will give your parents, my dad, and the Colts time to make plans to get back here. It doesn’t have to be fancy. I actually prefer simple. But I want the people we love here.”

I could give her three weeks if that was what she wanted. “Deal.”

She stood up and pointed to the towels. “Could you hand me one of those? I need to call Blaire.”

The bubbles and water running down her naked body commanded my complete attention. I couldn’t touch her until her cardiologist cleared her. But looking at her was so damn nice.

“I’m getting cold.” The laughter in her voice snapped me out of my lusting. I reached for a towel and walked over to her and wrapped it around her. Just as I was leaning in to
kiss her, the cries of our daughter filled the room through the baby monitor.

Harlow gently shoved me. “Hurry, go check on her.”

I turned and ran.

Stepping into her room, I turned on the light dimmer so the bright light didn’t hurt her eyes. When she saw me standing over her, she stopped crying and kicked her feet and sucked hungrily
on her fist. That was her hungry sign. The nurses had taught me that.

I picked her up and carried her over to the changing table to freshen her up, and then we went to see Mommy. I needed to go downstairs and fix a bottle, and Harlow wouldn’t be OK with me
leaving a fussing Lila Kate in her room.

“Someone’s hungry and wants to visit with her mommy while I fix a bottle,” I said, carrying Lila Kate over to her mother, who quickly slid her nightgown on and crawled up onto
the bed so I could lay Lila Kate beside her.

“Hey, you,” she cooed at our daughter. “You ready for something to eat? That hand won’t taste good for long.”

I left them upstairs and headed downstairs to get the bottle ready.

I
had been forced to shove Grant out the door this morning. He had been pacing and talking on the phone with a contractor. It had been forever
since he’d worked, and he was spending a great deal of the time on the phone. The frustration etched on his forehead was hard to miss. Lila Kate was still sleeping a good portion of the day,
and I rested when she did. When she was awake, we normally lay on my bed and talked and played. It wasn’t difficult.

It was time for lunch, and she was getting fussy, so I brought her downstairs and laid her in the bassinet while I fixed her bottle. The doorbell rang just when I had her bottle warm enough. I
pulled it out of the hot water and dried it off, then headed for the door.

A man I had never met before stood on the other side, but I didn’t have to know him to figure out who it was. The similarities were too strong—his face was an older version of
Grant’s. This was his father. The man we never talked about.

Whenever I tried to mention him, the hurt look in Grant’s eyes made me back off. I knew he had no idea where his mother was, and he said that when she called him, he’d let her know
about the baby. I had gone through seven months of pregnancy, and two weeks had passed since Lila Kate’s birth, and she still hadn’t called to check in.

“Hello,” I said, breaking the silence.

He smiled, and I could see he was nervous. Even his smile was like Grant’s. “I’m, uh, I’m Brett Carter. Grant’s dad.”

I nodded. “I gathered that. The resemblance is uncanny,” I said.

Brett chuckled. “No nonsense. Figured you’d be the type who won Grant over. He’s had enough fake and flighty in his life.”

I nodded, because I felt like he fell under the latter category. Or maybe he was just cold and insensitive. Grant had always wanted a relationship with this man—a real
relationship—but he’d never gotten it.

“I just left the job site. He told me about the baby. Congratulations.”

As if she knew we were discussing her, Lila Kate cried out, reminding me that she was hungry. “Thank you. It’s lunchtime, and Lila Kate is hungry. You’re welcome to come in and
meet your granddaughter if you like.”

I didn’t wait for him to give me an excuse. I turned and left him standing there with the door wide open and went to get my fussing baby girl. She saw me holding the bottle and started
kicking and fussing louder. She was ready for some food. I scooped her up and turned around to see that Brett had indeed followed me inside. He was staring at Lila Kate with concern.

“She’s awfully small,” he said.

“She was eight weeks early,” I replied, cuddling her against me and giving her the bottle, which she greedily suckled. She closed her little eyes as if it was the best thing in the
world. I knew for a fact that it was gross.

“Grant didn’t tell me that. Did she have to stay in the hospital long?” he asked.

Was this guy for real? He didn’t know anything? “Yes, she had to stay a little more than a week. So did I,” I replied, then nodded toward the living room. “I need to sit
down so she can be comfortable. We can take this in there.”

He stepped back and let me pass.

I didn’t check to see if he was following me. I headed for my large, comfy chair so I could cross my legs in front of me and let her lie in my lap while I fed her. She liked this position
best, too.

I could see him taking a seat on the sofa across from us, and I waited until she was happily suckling again before I looked up at him.

“So you made it through OK, then,” he said. I wanted to laugh. Where was he when his son was at the hospital thinking he was about to raise his daughter all by himself?

“Not exactly. I lost a lot of blood and blacked out, and then they had to put me under for emergency surgery. My heart stopped, but I was determined to live. A couple of days later, I woke
up for good to a healthy baby girl and her terrified father.”

Brett’s eyes grew wide, and I could tell he hadn’t been aware that things had been so bad. “I didn’t realize. Grant left a message for me saying he was at the hospital
with you and that you’d had the baby. He had told me to call him. I was busy, and I figured you two wanted time to spend with the baby and had enough visitors as it was, so I went to see him
at the job site today. He wasn’t very informative. He barely looked at me.” He let out a sigh. “I guess I can understand why now. I just . . . when he said to call him, I
didn’t think I had to right then. I figured it was about work, and I knew I would need to pick up his slack while he was with you and the baby.”

That was no excuse. His son had said he was at the hospital and his child had been born and asked his father to call him. He should have called. His job wasn’t more important than his son.
And he had a pretty damn fantastic son. “Grant’s a wonderful man. A great man. The kind of man anyone would be proud to call theirs. I’ll be proud to call him my husband, and I
know Lila Kate already adores him. She follows the sound of his voice when he’s in a room. She’ll never have a moment in her life when she won’t be proud of her father. Men
don’t get any better than Grant. He’s the best. And I recognize that. I cherish it and honor it.

“But you don’t realize the gift you have. He wants a real relationship with you. I can see the hurt in his eyes when your name comes up. My crazy, wild, rock-star father was there at
the hospital with us. He isn’t perfect, but he cared. He was there. He had to deal with fans and media while he was there, but he was there. You couldn’t even call your son back and ask
if he was OK. If his baby was OK. I don’t understand you, Mr. Carter.”

I decided to stop. I could scold this man and tell him how awful he was all day long, but I had said all that needed to be said.

Brett Carter stood up and stuck his hands into his pockets. He was leaving. Well, good riddance. He hadn’t even stuck around to hold his granddaughter. I wondered if she would ever know
this man. Or would her only grandparent be the one and only Kiro Manning?

“You’re right. About all of it,” he said as he started for the door. He stopped just outside the arched doorway. “I’m glad he found you. You’re worthy of him.
He’s a lucky man.”

Then he left.

I
held the invitation in my hand as I stood at the edge of the water and let the waves crash and wash over my feet. If I stood here long enough, my
feet would sink in the sand to my ankles. It was an odd habit, but I did this almost every day, except in the winter when the water was just too cold.

Today I had come out here to think. I’d expected the invitation to arrive. It was happening. That much I had known even before I heard that Grant had knocked up Harlow. But seeing it was
different. It was more final.

Once I had thought that Grant Carter was the one man who would see me. The me underneath. The me I was scared to show the world. The me who had been so emotionally bruised because I’d worn
my heart on my sleeve as a kid. When I got older, I put that me on lockdown so tightly it made it impossible for people to hurt me.

But it made it easy for them to hate me.

There were very few people who didn’t just use me. My brother was Rush Finlay, son of the famous drummer Dean Finlay. For years, my so-called friends just wanted to get near my brother.
They wanted an in. And I let them have it, because watching him screw them and throw them away was what they deserved. It was my way of taking revenge.

Then I had found out Rush wasn’t the only one with a celebrity father. Kiro Manning had been my dad all along. Yet he had never claimed me or tried to have any relationship with me. That
had almost cracked me and the steel walls around my heart. His refusal to acknowledge me had almost made me completely lose my mind. Rush had been there, though, and he’d loved me. He had
always been the one to love me. When no one else did, my big brother accepted me no matter how awful I acted. He didn’t approve, but he saw the me underneath.

Then Blaire had taken him from me. She’d won his heart and given him a son, and now he had little room for his messed-up sister. I hated Blaire for that. I hated that she took him away. I
wanted to hate their kid, too, but damned if Nate wasn’t the cutest kid in the world. I couldn’t hate him. It was impossible.

Grant Carter had stepped in and been there when I needed someone to care. Rush was busy with his new family, and Grant had taken over his role with a different twist. Grant wasn’t my
brother, and he was gorgeous. So we started screwing around, too—a friends-with-benefits thing. He didn’t expect me to be nice, and I didn’t expect him to just fuck me. He was so
sweet at times, and he made things better when no one else could. Or even wanted to. He knew how to make me laugh.

But just like any good thing that comes my way, I pushed him away because I had let him get too close. I refused to accept that maybe he could love me. I was terrified to open myself up to
rejection yet again.

While I was pushing Grant away, his head was turned by the complete opposite of me. A girl who had the love of her father. She was quiet and unassuming. She wasn’t mean to anyone. Ever.
She was matter-of-fact but soft-spoken. She was the perfect person for Grant. I was not. I was the fucked-up brat who didn’t feel secure enough to let herself get close to someone.