Second chance summer, p.1
Second Chance Summer, page 1
Table of Contents
Second Chance Summer
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Follow Poppy
Second Chance Summer
Copyright © 2021 Poppy St. James
Copy Editing by
Pam Berehulke
Proofread by
Virginia Tesi Carey
Cover Design by Uplifting Author Services
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. This book was previously released under the title Sexy Stranger. This version has been edited for your reading pleasure.
About the Book
Perfectly bingeable for fans of Bridgerton and Emily in Paris, Second Chance Summer is a romantic feel-good story about finding true love in the least likely of places…
Somewhere along the way, Charlotte Freemont stopped believing in happily-ever-afters. It’s one of the reasons why she ran out on her own wedding instead of settling for anything less than she deserved.
Now instead of the cross-country road trip she had planned, she’s stranded in a small town with a rough and hardened hunk of a man who’s got secrets of his own.
Luke Wilder doesn’t have time for the sassy brunette who he’s sure won’t stick around anyways. He’s had his heart broken before and there’s no use getting bent out of shape over someone who’s just going to move on. But this newcomer isn’t at all like he assumed and their chemistry? Well, explosive is too tame a word.
Will Luke open up and risk heartbreak again? And can Charlotte put her past behind her and trust in love again?
Come find out in this all new sweet and sizzling small-town romance from Poppy St. James!
1
* * *
LUKE
A smirk tugged at my lips.
There was nothing quite like watching an out-of-towner get their first taste of Shady Grove.
It didn’t happen too often. In my experience, you were either from here or you’d never heard of the place. There was no in-between.
The second I saw her walk through the door of What the Cluck, the local family-style restaurant, I knew she didn’t belong, and so did everyone else whose head turned in her direction. The ones who didn’t notice right away surely did when they heard the click of her high heels moving across the worn wooden floors. Even the hum of the gossip mill couldn’t drown out the sound of new stilettos on rustic pine.
My mouth twitched as I watched her move. My first impression of her was, admittedly, a little inappropriate—dark shiny hair, long legs and curves that seemed to go on for days. Then my sister leaned over and whispered in my ear, causing my indecent thoughts to screech to an unwelcome halt, which was probably just as well.
“I heard her car broke down.”
I acknowledged Molly’s comment with a nod. Instead of focusing on the whispers of the people around me, I found myself more intrigued with the expression on the newcomer’s face. It was quite a face, after all. Her big blue eyes were wide with bewilderment, her pretty pink lips pursed as she tried to flag down one of the waitresses busily rushing by her. Her cute little nose wrinkled in confusion when a passing waitress finally called out, “Seat yourself, honey!”
I quickly dropped my attention when I realized the one open seat in the place was directly across from me.
So much for quiet observation.
I could certainly appreciate a beautiful woman, but the last thing I was interested in was getting mixed up with a passerby’s drama—despite how good she looked as she walked toward the table. She would be gone and forgotten before sundown, just like everyone else who didn’t belong here.
My twin brother was seated across from my sister, and about to be shoulder to shoulder with the newbie. Duke smirked when I looked up. The unspoken conversation we had during the time it took her to sit next to him was totally inappropriate for Sunday lunch. It basically consisted of my brother silently saying, I’m gonna try and hit that, and me replying, Don’t even think about it.
The connection between us was twenty-nine years strong. I didn’t need him to tell me what he was thinking. We’d been doing the same song and dance since we were kids. It wasn’t that I didn’t think about sex, just that Duke thought about it a whole lot more. And it had landed him in a few prickly situations over the years. Last thing I wanted was to clean up another mess of his. I had to be the voice of reason. That’s just the way it was in our family.
Duke wasn’t the only curious one. I looked over at my sister and saw she was champing at the bit to find out about the stranger. There was no stopping Molly when she wanted to get to the bottom of something. She’d been the most inquisitive child I’d ever met, and at twenty-four, she hadn’t stopped with her quest for the truth. If she were a cat, she would have burned through all nine of her lives by now.
“Hi,” she said no sooner than the brunette was seated at our table and unfolding her napkin. “I’m Molly Wilder.” She reached across the table, practically shoving her hand in the poor girl’s face.
I watched as the awkwardness unfolded and tried hard not to laugh at it all.
“Oh,” the stranger said, staring at my sister’s hand for a moment. “We’re doing this.” She placed her hand in Molly’s and mustered up a smile. “I’m Charlotte.”
“Welcome. These are my brothers, Duke and Luke.” Molly didn’t wait to dive right into the interrogation. “What brings you to our fine little town?”
She released Charlotte’s hand when I elbowed her slightly in the ribs, a warning to tone it down. When she side-eyed me, I simply sat back in my chair and shook my head, then tugged my weathered A&M ball cap down a bit to shield me from it. There was no stopping Molly’s inquisition at this point, and Duke would probably hit on Charlotte before the biscuits were brought to the table. I knew I should have skipped today.
Like it was even an option.
Sunday lunch with my family was set in stone. Ever since our mother left when I was seven, the Wilder family had spent Sunday mornings at the Lutheran church and dined on fried chicken directly afterward. In fact, everything in this place was set in stone. Every day had a purpose, and every purpose had an end goal. There was routine and order, just the way I liked it.
What I didn’t like was a disruption. Much like the one sitting across the farmhouse table from me. No, the pretty brunette with the word TOURIST practically stamped on her forehead was a disruption wrapped in distraction and dipped in temptation. She’d already hooked my brother with her good looks and my sister with her mystery. And there I was, caught in the middle.
“There’s something wrong with my car,” Charlotte told Molly. “And apparently, I have to wait until tomorrow to have it checked out.”
“That’s too bad.” Molly gave her a sympathetic look. “So, you’ll be here for a few days?”
“Oh, I hope not,” Charlotte said, as if spending time in Shady Grove, Texas, was the worst thing she’d ever heard of. “Hopefully, it’s a quick fix.”
“Duke’s pretty good with cars,” Molly said, casting a stare across the table. “Maybe he could take a look.”
“Yeah,” he said with a grin that bounced from Molly to Charlotte. “I could get up under that hood. Take a real good look.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Charlotte said without missing a beat or letting Duke’s charms get the better of her.
I couldn’t help the chuckle that managed to break from between my pursed lips when she gave him the old thanks, but no thanks. I loved it when a woman gave my brother an ego check. Didn’t happen too often, so I let myself enjoy the moment.
“Your loss, sweetheart,” Duke said, clearly taken aback by her directness.
“I wasn’t trying to sound ungrateful or anything.” Charlotte gave him a tight smile. “I just . . . it’s an Audi. It’s probably really complicated, and a trained professional is probably better suited. I don’t know that you’d be able to help me.”
It was one thing for her to shoot a man down because she wasn’t interested romantically, but it was quite another to shoot down his mechanical skills. Duke, like every other guy in this town, knew how to fix a car. Even a fancy car like hers.
“So much for not sounding ungr
“Excuse me?” She quickly looked at me.
“Insulting a man’s mechanical skills when you don’t even know what they are...” I sat up straight in my chair. “He could fix your car just fine,” I assured her.
“Well, excuse me for not wanting some cowboy to poke around under the hood of my hundred-thousand-dollar car.” She looked back at Duke. “No offense.”
“None taken.” A small smile played on his lips as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re just going to take it?” I asked him, confused that Duke was bowing out so easily.
“You got this,” he said, giving me a nod and one of those sly smiles he was known for.
I didn’t know what game he was playing, but if he wasn’t going to set this woman straight, I sure would. “Just because we live in Texas, we’re all cowboys?”
“I just assumed. But if the boot fits,” she said with a smirk, her agitation now clearly directed at me.
Which was fine. I could take it. I sat up a little straighter in my seat. “You know what they say about making assumptions. And you’re from where? Wait.” I paused and took a second to turn my ball cap around. I wanted to make sure I was looking this snooty woman in the eye when I gave her the reality check she clearly needed. Her gaze flicked from me to Duke as the realization that we were twins sank in, but I wasn’t in the mood to discuss just how much we looked alike.
“Let me guess,” I said. “LA?”
“New York.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Makes complete sense. I’m surprised you can even sit there, what with the stick up your ass and all. You know, because everyone from New York has one up theirs.”
The oohs and aahs that came from the nearby patrons listening in on our conversation were deafening.
“Wow,” Charlotte replied with a look of complete calm.
I’ll be the first to admit, I was kind of impressed that she wasn’t more rattled. Because, yeah I was probably being a jerk. But it wasn’t every day you met a woman who could give as good as she could get. I thought for sure she’d get up and storm out like the spoiled brat I’d pegged her for.
“I shouldn’t have assumed that you were all cowboys.” She gave me a smug smile as she shook her head. “You’re clearly just an asshole.”
2
* * *
CHARLOTTE
Never in my life had I met anyone more arrogant than the man sitting across from me. And that was really saying something, considering the high-society types I’d been surrounded with my entire life.
Didn’t matter one bit to me that his shoulders were broad and he looked like he worked with his hands. I didn’t let the image of him tossing hay bales or shoveling dirt pop into my head, or whatever it was that “not cowboys” did. The perfectly sculpted arms revealed by the short sleeves of his T-shirt didn’t distract me. Not one damn bit.
“Takes one to know one, sweetheart,” he said, narrowing his eyes on mine.
Now that his hat was out of the way, I could see the almost evergreen color of his eyes plain and clear. Or if I really wanted an up-close look, I could glance over at his twin brother sitting next to me. They might have been the most identical twins I’d ever seen—from their green eyes to the slope of their noses, right down to the dimples they both had on each cheek.
“I just came here to eat,” I finally said, wanting to end the pointless argument.
He tugged his ball cap back around. “Me too.”
Our conversation ended there. The glaring, however, continued for the next several minutes.
I took a deep breath and tried not to let his arrogance get the best of me. I was out of my element, that was all. They didn’t make men like him in New York, all rugged and rough around the edges.
“All right, folks,” the waitress said, finally stopping at our table. “Can I get ya some drinks, or just sweet tea all around?”
“I’ll take a water with lemon,” I said as the Wilders all nodded for sweet tea.
The waitress nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And can I get a menu?”
As soon as the question was out of my mouth, the waitress and everyone within earshot snickered.
I was confused. This was a restaurant, wasn’t it?
“Lunch is up on the board.” The waitress turned to point at a chalkboard on the wall. “What you see is what you get.” She smiled and left to check on another table. My gaze strayed to the chalkboard.
“It’s family-style,” Molly explained.
“What does that mean?”
“One big meal brought out all in big bowls. All served at once.”
“Oh.” I finally realized what she meant. “Like Thanksgiving.”
“Exactly!”
Not that any of my Thanksgiving dinners had been served that way. My family always had a fully catered meal with some fanciful version of turkey and stuffing. I imagined this particular meal was going to be more like what I saw on television. Happy families, one big bowl of mashed potatoes, and smiles all around. Definitely not like the dinners in my memories.
Family-style wasn’t in my vocabulary. And more than that, I was used to my privacy, not having to fight for elbow room and listen to other people’s private conversations.
I flagged down the waitress as she passed by with a tray of biscuits. “Excuse me, but do you have a booth, or maybe just a private table in back? It’s been a heck of a day, and—”
She tucked a loose lock of hair back into her braid. “I’m going to take a wild guess and wager you’re not from around here.”
What does that have to do with anything?
My gaze wandered back to the hottie across from me. He was smirking.
“Does this make you uncomfortable?” he asked. “Sitting close to me?”
I looked back to the waitress for help, but she was already gone.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I said, straightening my posture.
His eyebrows jumped up as he studied me. “You look uncomfortable.”
Realizing that my spine was ramrod straight and my hands were fisted in my lap, I huffed out a sigh.
A few moments later, platters generously piled with home-cooked food were delivered, and those seated around me wasted no time in loading up their plates.
“You’re not going to eat?” Duke asked, leaning over to inspect my plate.
And this was why I wanted a private table. I didn’t want someone checking on my progress like I was a finicky toddler who needed supervising. I didn’t generally eat carbs, or things that were deep-fried in lard.
“I am eating,” I told him, forking up one of the beans on my plate. “These green beans are delicious.”
“Probably because they’re cooked in bacon,” the cute, jerk of a brother said, his first words since the meal had started.
Not wanting to give him a bit of satisfaction, I bit into the green bean and smiled as I slowly used my lips to pull it from the fork. The food was good, and since it was the first thing I’d eaten all day, I dug in.
“You know you want some of my chicken,” Luke said, his voice low and teasing.
I hated the shiver that raced along my spine. “I do not want your chicken.”
“It’s okay. You can have some, duchess.”
Duchess? I wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the nickname until I realized he probably had me pegged for a spoiled little rich brat. To anyone who didn’t know the truth, that’s probably what I looked like. But in my heart, it wasn’t who I was.
Which was exactly why I’d fled and left everything behind.
Once I’d picked my plate clean of salad and green beans, I stood up without a word and went to the register to pay, and then hurried out the door. This entire meal had been a disaster, and I wasn’t even close to full.
“Charlotte,” a voice called out as I walked down the sidewalk toward the auto repair shop.
I turned to find Molly chasing after me, leaving her brothers waiting by the front door of the restaurant. I stopped and let her catch up.
“I’m real sorry about Luke,” she said. “He’s usually not so rude. I’m not sure what got into him.”
In the sunlight, I could see her resemblance to her brothers. The same sun-bleached brown hair and sweet smile. But where the twins’ eyes were green, hers were brown, and she had no dimples. She was a pretty girl with a good disposition, probably the kind of person I could—or at least, should—be friends with if the circumstances were different.
