Second Chance at Love (The MacKenna Born & Bred Trilogy) (12 page)

Luckily, therapy seemed to help, at least enough that he
stopped talking about committing suicide, and began to function more normally.
By late August, he went back to Harvard to attend graduate school. He had begun
the healing process, but he was a long way from being emotionally healthy. Her
son, her beautiful boy, had never been the same. To this day, it had changed
him in a way that hurt Diana's heart, and made her sad to even think about it.

“I just wanted you to know that, darling. That I wish things
would have worked out differently, and that I'm sorry for what you went
through. I can only imagine what it was like for you.” She didn't want to pry,
so she decided to leave it at that. On a more cheerful note, she added,”Could
you pass the celery, please?”

Brooke did, and grabbed a tomato for herself and went to
work. She sliced quickly and competently, Diana noticed, and had to admit that
she was impressed.

“How did you learn to use a knife like that?” she asked.

“I don't know, really” Brooke responded. “I can't claim to
be a master chef or anything, but I, too, can find my way around a kitchen.”
Diana smiled as she started on the carrots. “I'm pretty impressive with a
scalpel, too,” Brooke added, teasingly. They were laughing together when the
men piled into the kitchen. All of them.

“Well, hello beautiful.” Chase said, planting a kiss on
Brooke's lips. He took a seat on the opposite side of his mother, because it
was closest to the food. He snagged a cucumber and bit into it. Seth leaned
against the counter next to Brooke, and popped a couple of olives into his
mouth. Logan stood on the other side of the island near the range, dipping a
piece of bread into his mother's marinara sauce.

“I would scold them all for spoiling their appetites before
dinner, but it wouldn't do any good,” Diana said.

“Because they won't listen anyway?” Brooke wanted to know.

“There's that,” she agreed, “but mostly because nothing
ruins their appetites.” Brooke laughed, a light coming alive in her eyes. Logan
noticed it, and thought that she looked genuinely happy at that moment. No
sadness, only joy. It looked good on her.

“Where's your father?” Diana asked, looking between the
three of them.

“He fell asleep reading in the recliner,” Seth informed her.
“It sucks getting old,” he added. Brooke was just putting the last of the
vegetables into the salad bowl when the timer on the oven sounded.

“Looks like dinner's ready,” Diana said, getting up from her
chair. “Logan, sweetie, would you take the ziti out of the oven? I'll go wake
your father.” She disappeared through the kitchen entryway.

Brooke watched Logan as he lifted the baking dish out of the
oven and turned to place it on top of the range. It was so ridiculously hot
that Brooke could feel the heat emanating from it. He cursed, and nearly
dropped it onto the counter. Luckily, he had it set down nearly all the way,
and it made only a loud thud as he let one side go. Tossing the pot holders
onto the counter, he cursed again as he nursed the fingertips on his right
hand. Brooke jumped up from her chair and rushed to the other side of the
island.

“Let me see,” she said, reaching for his hand.

“It's fine,” Logan mumbled. “Just a little burn.”

“Well, we need to get it under the cool water, quickly.” She
tugged on his hand, pulling him gently toward the sink. Turning on the cold
tap, she shoved Logan's fingers under the stream of water. The cool water on
his burning fingertips felt good, soothing. “Just let the water run on them for
a couple of minutes,” she directed him. He did, but that was about as far as he
was going to go with this. He would make a horrible patient. He knew, because
they'd been down that road, years before. The thought of it made his lip quirk.

When Brooke was satisfied that the water had cooled the burning,
she turned off the tap and used a paper towel to dry his hand. She held his
hand in hers, and gently patted the tips of his fingers, careful not to hurt
him. The burns, likely second degree by the look of them, spanned across three
fingers and had already begun to blister.

“Does your mother keep a first aid kit handy?” Brooke
directed the question toward Logan.

He nodded. “In the downstairs bath.”

“Chase, can you get me some neosporin and a gauze pad from
the bathroom? she asked.

“Why, yes ma'am,” he said, and headed out of the kitchen.

“And some medical tape,” she added. “It should all be in the
first aid kit.”

“Got it,” he called back over his shoulder.

“There's no need to make such a big fuss,” Logan said, aware
that Brooke was still holding his hand in hers. Her skin was warm and soft.
“It's just a few burns.” He looked into her eyes, and Brooke had the strangest
feeling, like he could see inside her. She was suddenly aware of his proximity
to her, and an odd sensation came over her. It was like butterflies, she
thought, flapping their wings inside her stomach, fluttering furiously. She
tried her best to ignore it.

“If they're not cared for properly, they could get
infected,” she countered, drawing her eyebrows  together. As she did, a crease
formed on her forehead. She pulled her lower lip through her teeth,
concentrating on the task at hand. She felt not just a little bit disconcerted.

She looked damned sexy when she did that, Logan thought.
Maybe he'd have to get her pretty little nose out of joint more often, he
thought, his lip curling up at the corner. Chase came back with the first aid
supplies and set them down on the counter. Brooke got to work applying the
antibiotic ointment first, putting a generous amount on each fingertip. Once
she'd finished with that, she cut three small pieces of gauze and carefully
wrapped one around each fingertip, taping them.

“There,” she said softly. “All done.” She looked up at
Logan. He'd been watching her as she tended to his hand. She had a great
bedside manner, he thought. Her patients likely were in love with her. He
didn't blame them one bit. He looked down at his bandaged hand. When she
realized that she was still holding it in hers, she abruptly let it go.

“Thank you,” Logan said, grinning at her.

“You're welcome.” She held his gaze for a moment.

From behind her, he heard Chase say to Seth, “Maybe if he
asks her nicely, she'll kiss his boo-boo's.” Seth chuckled, and Logan shot them
both his best go-to-hell stare behind her back.

“So if I ask you nicely, will you kiss my ass?” Logan tossed
out, and the room erupted with laughter.

Dinner was delicious. Afterward, Brooke stayed for a while,
talking and reminiscing with the MacKennas. There were times when she felt as
if she'd never left Montana. And Brooke was beginning to feel more and more
like she wished they could go back to when they were younger, and life was
easy. Brooke talked with Nicholas, who was so in love with her. She'd
completely captivated him. He'd always adored her, from the time she was a
chubby, bouncing baby on her mama's lap.

“I really need to get going,” Brooke said, standing.

“Oh, we wish you could stay longer, but we understand.
Thanks so much for staying for dinner and spending this time with us. We've
loved it,” Diana said.

“Thank
you
for having me. I've had the best time.”
Brooke said, hugging one of them after the other. Except for Logan, who made no
move to touch her, let alone hug her.

“Logan, sweetie, why don't you walk Brooke out?” Diana
suggested, and smiled to herself when neither of them resisted.

Logan walked her to her car, which was parked directly next
to his truck. The air had become cool and Brooke shivered as she turned to say
good night.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, and walked the short distance to
his truck. He came back with a gray hoodie. “Why don't you put this on,” he
said, holding it out to her.

“Oh, no, it's okay. I'm just driving next door.”

“Please,” he insisted.

She relented, pulling the hoodie over her head, and letting
it fall over her body. It was soft and warm, and felt good close to her skin.
It smelled like Logan.

“Thanks.” She said it softly, and looked up to see him
watching her, intently. “Well, I...I'd better go,” she said, hating that he
could make her lose her senses just by looking at her with those eyes. Those
incredible green eyes that had the power to make her smolder under his
gaze.“I'll make sure you get it back,” she said, sliding behind the wheel while
Logan held the car door for her. It was something he'd done dozens of times, a
simple gesture that had always made her feel like a lady. Some things didn't
change.

“Good night, Brooke,” he said, in a voice so thick and husky
that it made her think of sex. Of having sex. With him.
God, how can he have
this affect on me after all this time?,
she wondered, painfully aware of
this slow heat spreading through her. 

“Good night, Logan. Take care of those fingers,” she said.
He nodded as she closed the door and started the engine. She put the car in
reverse and backed out gently, turning, and then drove out toward the road. She
turned left toward home. Logan watched until her tail lights disappeared.

Sweet Jesus
, is the only thing that came to mind.
He'd made it through her doctoring session, and then dinner. But he'd barely
made it through walking her to her car. He wanted her, in a way that he'd never
wanted anyone, or anything. He didn't know how many times he'd be able to run
into Brooke without something happening between them. It wasn't purely sexual.
The feelings she'd stirred up inside him since she returned home were killing
him, but the added element of this strong sexual attraction only added fuel to
the fire. He didn't know how long he'd be able to stave it off. He was fairly
certain that if he didn't do something about it, and soon, he may combust.

 He thought about what it must have been like during the
time of the caveman. When the caveman wanted his woman, he simply hefted her
over his shoulder and carried her off to a dark corner of his cave. At least,
that's how Logan imagined it had been. Although human behavior had evolved over
thousands of years, Logan wondered if Brooke would appreciate such an act.
Probably not, he mused, smiling at the thought.

Brooke awoke on the day of her birthday feeling down. She
had no idea why. It couldn't possibly have something to do with the fact that
she'd turned thirty, could it? she mused. Wasn't she supposed to feel
different, older? Well, she didn't feel a day older than she did yesterday, she
decided.

She'd already been in Montana for three weeks, and she
realized that she was only marginally homesick. She did miss Ashley, though,
like crazy. Ashley had phoned her that morning to wish her a happy birthday,
and to say that she wished she could have made it to Montana to celebrate it
with her. But she was in New York meeting with her publisher about her newest
book. They'd made plans for Ashley to come for the Fourth of July, and both
women had been so excited about seeing each other.

Brooke walked into the kitchen to an aroma that made her
mouth water. Dinner was already in the oven and it smelled heavenly. Brooke
couldn't wait to taste it. Karissa had really outdone herself, preparing a dish
that was sure to be the talk of the evening. She'd baked a red velvet cake with
homemade cream cheese frosting, an apple pie, and was in the process of rolling
out dough to make mini-tarts. There was so much food that Brooke thought it
could feed them for a week. Brooke was impressed by Karissa's mastery in the
kitchen. When had her little sis become Betty Crocker? she wondered.

“Mom, tell me again why I need to have a party?” Brooke said
to Raelyn, who sat at the kitchen table making a “to do” list while Karissa
expertly rolled out the dough with a rolling pin.

“Because it's your thirtieth birthday, that's why,” Raelyn
stated, looking up. “Not to mention the fact that we haven't celebrated your
birthday with you since you turned twenty-one. Nine years, sweetie,” Raelyn
said, shaking her head. “It's important to us,” she added, turning her
attention to her list once again.

It
had
been a long time, Brooke thought. She and
Logan had completed their junior year at Harvard, and they'd come home to
Montana for the summer. Brooke had turned twenty-one that June and her parents
had thrown her a birthday party, a barbeque, she recalled, and they'd invited
half the town.

In early July, she and Logan had vacationed to France for
four weeks. She had always wanted to visit France, had even studied the French
language in high school, and Logan surprised her with a trip to the most
romantic place on Earth. He'd been so secretive about it that she'd never
suspected a thing. And his thoughtfulness was just one more reason why she'd
loved him so desperately.

They'd spent a week in Paris, and had been there to
celebrate Bastille Day. They'd watched the fireworks from the top of the Eiffel
Tower, the spectacular colors exploding over the River Seine. Then they'd taken
a boat ride on the river. Logan had proposed to her that night, on bended knee,
placing the most beautiful diamond engagement ring she had ever had the
pleasure of laying eyes upon, on her wedding finger. It was something out of a
dream, and Brooke couldn't believe it was all happening to her.

They'd spent weeks traipsing through France. They'd visited
not only Paris, but Normandy, Chartres, Marsailles, and the Cote d'Azur. She'd
especially loved Nice. The mountains and the coast were equally beautiful.
They'd taken a train to the south of France, and enjoyed every minute of their
adventure. It had been the most wonderful, most magical time of their lives.
She was in the most beautiful place in the world with the man she loved and
adored, the man of her dreams. Nothing could have been more perfect. But
fairytales, as she'd come to learn, didn't really exist. They were just the
silly dreams of young girls.

Ten months later, she'd had her heart broken and had moved
out to the California coast, where she knew no one. She was devastated and
alone.

“Brooke, can you hand me the vanilla from that cabinet
there?” Karissa asked, waving a hand in the direction of the cabinet in
question. Brooke, clearing her mind, rummaged through the cabinet until she
came up with the requested ingredient.

Passing it to Karissa, she asked, “Don't you need any help?”

“Nope,” she said. “I've got it all handled.”

“Honey, why don't you go on upstairs and get ready for the
party?” Raelyn suggested. “It won't be much longer now.”

“What won't be much longer?” Brooke questioned.

“Before our guests arrive.”

“And what guests would they be?” Brooke had a sinking
feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Raelyn looked up from what she was doing. “The MacKenna's,
sweetheart.”

“Which MacKenna's?” she asked, suspicion taking root as she
stared at her mother.

“Why, all of them, of course.” Raelyn smiled sweetly. She
knew that Brooke would have her nose out of joint, but really, how could she
invite all of the MacKenna's with the exception of Logan? She wouldn't do it.
And besides, maybe putting Brooke and Logan together would be a good thing.
Maybe, at some point, they could at least put some of their past behind them,
where it belonged. It was hard seeing two of the people you loved most in the
world hurting. She just hoped she was right about this and that she didn't make
anything worse.

Brooke sat on the edge of her bed, trying to muster up the
courage to join everyone else downstairs. She'd heard Diana and Nicholas
MacKenna arrive about fifteen minutes before. Chase had shown up a few minutes
after his parents, followed by Seth and Logan together in Seth's vehicle. She could
hear them all downstairs, along with her parents and Karissa, talking and
laughing. Brooke loved the sound of it. There had been many times over the
years, too many for Brooke to remember, when the Cates and the MacKennas had
gotten together. For birthdays, anniversaries, Sunday dinners, barbeques in the
summertime, and any other celebration or event there was. They'd been more than
friends, they'd been like a close-knit family. And they'd loved each other like
one.

Diana and Nicholas had been friends with her parents since
before any of them had been born. They hadn't grown up in Angel Ridge, but
they'd moved there when they were young and just married. They'd bought the
neighboring land and built their house there. They'd made it a home by filling
it with  kids and love and memories, just as her parents had done.

They'd been destined to become friends, Brooke thought. They
shared the same beliefs and the same values. Both sets of parents were loving
and kind, and tried to be a good example to their children. And they had
tremendous faith. They were Christian in the truest sense of the word. Which is
likely why they'd bonded so quickly and had nurtured a friendship that had
lasted more than thirty years.

If destiny hadn't intervened, then Brooke would never have
known Logan, would never have loved Logan. She had pondered that many times
throughout the past. She believed that all of the choices a person made played
a significant role in determining the outcome of that person's life, but that
it was all a part of God's master plan. She just wished she knew what His plan
was for her.

Standing, she smoothed her dress and prepared to head
downstairs to greet her guests. When she reached the top of the staircase, she
paused with her hand on the banister. She watched the scene in her parents'
enormous living room below.

Her parents stood near the stone fireplace, her father's arm
wrapped around her mother's waist, holding her close. They were talking with
Diana and Nicholas, who were laughing at something her father had said. Karissa
and Chase sat on the sofa, Chase's long legs stretched out in front of him as
he listened to Karissa chat about some new ideas she had for the shop. Seth and
Logan stood together in front of the huge picture window. Logan looked out at
the spectacular view of the mountains, listening as Seth filled him in on the
most recent development in the contract he'd recently landed.

 She realized that the people she loved most in the world,
with the exception of Ashley, were all there at that very moment, scattered
throughout what had been one of the most significant rooms of her childhood
home, waiting to celebrate this special day with her. Knowing it moved her. She
hadn't really understood until that moment what it meant to be truly blessed.

Logan caught sight of her as she descended the stairs. He
could only stare. She wore a white floral print dress, the colors beautiful and
bold. Like Brooke, he thought. The top was designed like a halter, and the
straps came up to tie around her neck. It ruffled around the hem, the front of
the dress stopping just above the knee and the back dipping lower. She wore
white high-heeled sandals. A delicate gold anklet with tiny pearls adorned her
left ankle. Logan loved the look. To him it was totally sexy. Pearl drop
earrings dangled from her lobes, and a matching bracelet graced her slender
wrist. Thick, dark tresses tumbled down her back, nearly to her waist. Her eyes
were gorgeous, the browns of her shadow highlighting the magnificent blue of
her eyes. Thick black lashes added to the dramatic effect. Her lips, soft and
full, were painted a glossy pink. She was stunning. Logan felt the first
stirrings of desire, and he blew out a breath, knowing he was in for a long
night.

Logan met her as she reached the last step. “Hi,” she
breathed, giving him her full attention.

“Happy Birthday, Brooke.” He said it quietly, and watched
her pink lips curve into a smile. “Thank you,” she responded. She was surprised
when he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers. Surprised and
unnerved. She felt the electricity instantly, and her body hummed.
Damn him.

Logan felt it, too. It was unmistakeable. A smile of
satisfaction tugged at his lips. He knew they'd still have chemistry. He wasn't
sure of much, but he sure as hell was sure of that. That kiss didn't lie.

“I thought we'd have you open gifts after dinner,” Raelyn
said, motioning toward the foyer table, which held a handful of prettily
wrapped packages of various sizes and shapes. Brooke was touched.

“You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” she said to all
of them, and no one in particular. “Thank you all, so much, for thinking of me,
and for sharing this day with me. It means a lot.” She knew how grateful she
was to have them in her life.

“Ah, actually, if you don't mind,” Logan said, looking at
Brooke, “I think it would be best if you  opened my gift now.”

Brooke nodded. “Alright.” She wondered why he didn't want
her to wait and open it with the others.

“I'll be right back,” he said, and disappeared out the back
door. They all stood waiting, looking around from one to the other, curiously.
Logan came back in, carrying a rather large box, wrapped in red and gold shiny
paper and tied with ribbon, a huge red bow on top.
Well, he definitely gets
points for presentation,
she thought. He placed it at her feet.

“What's this?” she asked, smiling at him. He smiled back, a
brilliant smile that made her heart skip a beat.