Second Chance Mom. Emilie Rose

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      Rachel snorted. “I wanted to be a rock star back then. The fact that I sing like a scalded cat might have something to do with my change of heart.” Truth was, she’d wanted to do something that would make people—specifically, her parents—sit up and take notice of Rachel Bishop.

      Smiling faces looked expectantly at her. Being the center of attention—something she’d once sought with nearly religious fervor—caused her skin to flush and her ears to burn. “Some other time.”

      “I’ll hold you to that, Ms.—is it still Bishop?” Rachel nodded. “Career day is the last Thursday of school. I’ll add you to the docket.”

      Standing in front of a gym filled with bored kids didn’t appeal to her. It sounded downright horrifying. She was hardly a sterling example to hold up to anyone, and next month she and Chastity would be back in Atlanta anyway.

      “It’d be really cool to have someone interesting for a change, Aunt Rachel. We usually suffer through a bunch of boring old farts—”

      “Chastity!” Rachel and Matt reprimanded simultaneously.

      Chastity grimaced. “Well, who wants to grow up and be a mortician anyway?”

      Several kids muttered agreement.

      Rachel felt cornered but at the same time compelled to respond. “Somebody has to do it and do it correctly. Otherwise disease and vermin become a problem. I’ve witnessed that more than once overseas and even in our own country after natural disasters—” She caught Matt’s raised eyebrows in her peripheral vision. “Well, anyway. Another time. I’ll, uh...see about next month. Where do I sign Chastity out?”

      Matt scooped up a pen and a sheet of paper. Their fingers touched when she took them from him, and a spark shot up her arm. Static electricity. That’s all it was. All she’d allow it to be. But the fact that he’d startled proved he’d felt it, too. Not something she wanted to contemplate.

      He turned to Chastity. “Did you finish your essay?”

      “It’s right there on your desk, Coach.”

      “Then you can go. Rachel? We’ll talk later.”

      She stiffened. His tone sounded like a threat.

      “See you around,” Rachel said, hoping she wouldn’t, and steered Chastity toward the door.

      If she saw Matt first, she’d avoid him, and if she didn’t see him again before she got out of Johnstonville, that would be fine with her, too.

      * * *

      HELL-RAISING RACHEL, a nurse? Hard to believe.

      Matt tried to make sense of the past ten minutes, but the woman with the baggy clothes, falling-down hair and pale, makeup-free face bore little resemblance to the sexual fantasy creature from his memory.

      The Rachel he remembered had been a red-lipped, hip-swinging, irreverent femme fatale bent on having a good time. She’d charged into his life and blitzed him off his feet like a defensive linebacker. He’d been raised by parents who lived by structure, rules and a very strict moral code. His dedication to sports and learning had only reinforced his disciplined attitude. He’d had no idea how to handle her. But he’d tried.

      To Rachel, rules had been hurdles to circumvent. She’d find ten different ways to do the same old thing while he’d chosen proved methods. Her adventurous nature had captured his attention, but what had sucked him under like swirling white water had been the vulnerability she’d fought so hard to hide. He’d tried to save her from herself and ended up losing—a lot.

      From the moment she’d kissed him under the mistletoe at a church party during Christmas break his junior year of college—a hot openmouthed kiss in the fellowship hall of all places—he’d been hooked on her brand of excitement. He’d held on for the ride of his life and loved every minute of it.

      Her disappearance without explanation and her refusal to answer his letters had stunned, hurt and confused him, as if he’d hit a submerged river boulder when he’d thought the stream clear and deep. Until Hope had enlightened him years later, he’d wondered what he’d done to drive Rachel away. Hope had told him that Rachel had been bored in Johnstonville, and he’d been a diversion, nothing more.

      A pencil dropped, forcing his focus back to the students shifting restlessly in their seats while they wrote, but it didn’t stay there long. This mature Rachel, with squared shoulders and deliberate movements, spoke of a confidence she hadn’t possessed as a teen. Her looser clothes flowed over her body in a way that hinted at the womanly shape they concealed. He found her natural beauty ten times more attractive than the attention-grabbing outfits that had once done a number on his hormones. Back then she’d been testing her womanly wiles, and he’d felt like a sixteen-year-old with a Ferrari. But he was older and wiser now. There would be no rekindling of his romance with Rachel. The fact that she was a flight nurse revealed she was still an adrenaline junkie. She’d just found a profitable way to exploit her need for thrills.

      Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was losing his mind. He’d been born in Johnstonville and intended to die here. He had a long-standing family legacy of community service to fulfill—one he could not blow for a woman. He had the house with the white picket fence and a dog. All he needed to make his life perfect was a nice, churchgoing wife who could accept him as he was and give him children.

      The woman who’d blown into his life like a hurricane was not a likely candidate. Life with Rachel would never be predictable or uncomplicated. Life with her sister, Hope, on the other hand, might have been.

       CHAPTER TWO

      RACHEL FELT AT least three sets of curious eyes watching her from the school office window as she put the car in gear. The sensation resembled a spider climbing her spine. She could almost hear the condemning whispers.

      She’s a bad seed, that one.

      How could someone like Hope be related to someone like her?

      Her dear parents must have been so ashamed.

      “Cool. A Mustang.” Chastity pushed knobs and twisted buttons. The radio blasted loud enough to rattle Rachel’s teeth. “I love red cars,” the teen shouted over the noise.

      Rachel lowered the volume, earning a pout from Chastity. “Don’t get excited. It’s a rental.”

      “What do you usually drive?”

      “I don’t own a car, so I take public transit. I ride the MARTA or the bus.”

      “The bus? You ride a stinking bus?”

      “Public transportation is very good in Atlanta.” And a car in her neighborhood might get stripped or stolen.

      “You’ll need a car here, and Mom’s...” Chastity’s hair flew as she quickly averted her face to stare out the window, blinking fast. “It’s toast.”

      The broken words squeezed Rachel’s heart. Hope’s car had been totaled, the police officer had said. He’d offered to text pictures, but Rachel had declined.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ