Second Chance Mom. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ wear Hope’s clothes again. Her shorts and tank top would have to do.

      She yanked her hair into a ponytail and peeked in on Chastity. Her heart tugged. Chastity looked so innocent with her cheeks flushed and hair spread across the pillow. But she had Rachel’s short fuse—a lesson learned last night.

      In the kitchen, Rachel scratched out a note and stuck it to the refrigerator before stepping outside to work the kinks from her limbs. Staying in Johnstonville was akin to sweating the incubation period after exposure to a dreaded disease. She would hope for a good prognosis, knowing full well that any hour a full-blown disaster could strike.

      She finished her warm-up, then headed down Hope’s driveway. If it weren’t for Chastity, Rachel would donate everything her sister had owned, put the house up for sale and be gone by noon.

      She couldn’t let the teen control her with threats of running away. But how could she tell whether Chastity was bluffing or serious? She and Chastity definitely had a few bugs to work out of their relationship.

      Rachel’s soles slapped the asphalt as she tried to outrun her fears. The burn in her chest pulled her head out of the what-ifs. She stepped onto the grassy shoulder of the road, propped her palms on her knees and struggled to catch her breath. Scanning her surroundings beneath the pinkening sky, she realized she had no idea where she was. None of the landmarks were familiar. How far had she run? She hadn’t a clue, but she knew her pace had been too fast. How many turns had she taken? Two rights and a left? Or the opposite?

      Great. She was lost. And she’d left her cell phone at home. She didn’t want Chastity to leave for school without seeing her—especially not after last night’s debacle.

      The sound of fast footfalls caught her attention. Optimistically, she glanced up. Maybe the fellow jogger could give her directions. Then she recognized the runner—Matt—and groaned. He kept catching her at her worst. Not that she cared what she looked like since she wasn’t trying to impress anyone—especially him. But at least she’d shaved her legs.

      He, on the other hand, looked fit and fabulous, of course. He reached her side. Blue eyes scorched over her, kicking her pulse rate back into the danger zone. “Good morning, Rachel. You okay?”

      “’Morning. I’m fine. Just working in some exercise.”

      He wore a tank and track pants. The damp fabric clung to an abundance of taut, tanned, muscled flesh and revealed impressive biceps. Golden chest hair showed above his neckline. The memory of how ticklish he’d been when she used to tease the silky strands beneath his arms and raked her nails over his rib cage blindsided her. Trying to banish the mental images of his bronzed body, she bent to stretch her tightening hamstrings.

      “I’m glad I ran into you. My parents would like you and Chastity to come over after church Sunday.”

      Rachel jerked upright, her gaze hitting his in surprise and dismay. How could she look Matt’s parents in the eye knowing she’d denied them their grandchild? “I don’t think—”

      “Mom insists. Besides, Chastity always enjoys our cookouts. Pam’s and Jake’s herds will be there.”

      Rachel vaguely remembered Matt’s siblings. “Pam and Jake have kids?”

      “Pam has three. Jake has two. They’d appreciate the company to even the numbers for volleyball and touch football.”

      Chastity had cousins. Cousins she could never claim. Guilt landed another punch in Rachel’s solar plexus. “I’ll check with Chastity.”

      “It’s just lunch, Rachel. She already eats half her meals with Pam’s daughter, Jessica.”

      Ahh, Jessica from last night. “Is this the same Jess who drives her mom’s car?”

      “Only on the family farm. Can I tell Mom you’ll be there? Or do I need to send her over to invite you?”

      She didn’t want that. “Yeah...we’ll be there.”

      “One o’clock.” Matt looked as if he were waiting for her to move on.

      She shifted in her shoes, reluctant to reveal her stupidity. She hated it even more when his gaze meandered over her sweat-soaked body again, making her feel as naked as she’d been the day she’d realized she loved him. “I’m, ah...not sure where I am. Could you give me directions?”

      She gave him points for not laughing. “This is Barnhill’s Dairy Road. It’s been paved since you lived here, and neighborhoods have replaced pastures. But you’ve been down this road before. It leads to the creek.”

      Where they’d often made out in his truck. Her cheeks burned. “Gotcha.”

      “Go to the end of the street. Take the next two lefts. That’ll get you back to Hope’s.”

      “Thanks.”

      “You sure you’re okay?”

      “Yes.”

      “You have water?” He offered his bottle.

      She didn’t. “I’m good, Coach.”

      “Rachel—” he warned.

      She couldn’t let her pride wipe her out. “Maybe a sip.”

      He unscrewed the cap and handed the plastic to her. She drank, fully aware that his lips had been exactly where hers were now. It didn’t help that he focused on her mouth. She gulped, then handed it back. He took the bottle and drank from it. Sharing seemed...intimate. But they’d shared so much more.

      She cleared her throat. “Thanks. See ya.”

      “You’re welcome.” He nodded, then took off.

      Rachel allowed herself a selfish moment to admire his backside and the strength of his long legs, then she yanked herself up by the hormones. It didn’t matter if Matt still had the best body on three continents. She wasn’t interested in resuming their relationship. And even if she were, she couldn’t chance it.

      * * *

      MATT GRITTED HIS teeth against the pain and continued putting one foot in front of the other. If he could fake it thirty more yards, he’d be out of Rachel’s sight.

      He finally reached the corner, then checked over his shoulder to confirm the coast was clear and collapsed against the first big oak tree. What in the hell had possessed him to sprint and catch up with her? He shouldn’t have been running without the knee brace. But when Rachel had raced past his window as if she was running for her life, he’d dropped his free weights, grabbed his water bottle and hauled butt after her.

      A high-pitched yap alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Mrs. Hines and her twin yippy dogs were coming his way. The sympathy in her smile and pity in her eyes wrenched his gut. Pity, for crissakes. He could handle anything but that.

      “’Morning, Matthew. Where’s Buddy?”

      He’d left so fast he’d forgotten his dog. “At home basking in the sun.”

      “Knee bothering you today?”

      He cursed his weakness СКАЧАТЬ