Her Second-Chance Family

Good can come out of bad

If it wasn’t for the tragic accident ten years earlier, Audrey Smith might never have taken in the three foster kids she loves so dearly. And if it wasn’t for the new addition to her home—a troubled teenage thief—she wouldn’t be fantasizing about Sawyer Williams.

Make no mistake—Sawyer’s the victim here. He’s the one who was robbed by Audrey’s daughter. But teaching the teen a lesson rather than punishing her makes Sawyer a superhero in Audrey’s eyes. Someone who can forgive and forget... That is until another break-in rocks their community, threatening Audrey’s family and her future with Sawyer.

“You intrigue me. You’re all I can think about.”

Audrey shook her head. “That might be why you want to kiss me, but why would I want to kiss you, Sawyer?”

“Because I’m totally endearing and charming. Because I make you laugh. But mainly because you can’t resist me and my multitude of charms.”

She laughed, which had been Sawyer’s intent. “Maybe I should say no to the kiss just to prove I can resist you.”

“Come on, Audrey. You know you want to,” he teased.

She smiled, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Just a peck on his cheek.

“Really, you call that a kiss?”

“I call it the perfect kiss after a coffee date.”

“What kind of kiss is appropriate after a lunch date?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see how good the lunch is.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Dear Reader,

In March of 2000, a young editor at Mills & Boon’s Toronto office called me and said the magic words I’d been dreaming of, “We’d like to buy I Waxed My Legs for This?” It was such an odd title. And to be honest, someone might make the case that a romance that opens with the hero removing hair from the heroine’s legs might not be romantic (my grandmother was aghast), but I maintain, fifteen years later, that a real hero would definitely do just that!

That first sale led to more. I sold straight-up romantic comedies, sweet romances and later, emotional family dramas. But in every one of the thirty books I’ve written for Mills & Boon since, there has been one abiding theme...love. Romantic love and love of a family. I’ll confess, many of my books ask the question: What is a family? In Her Second-Chance Family I answer that question quite clearly. A person is family when you know they have your back. When they love you, warts and all. And when you mess up, family will forgive you and give you a second chance, and a third, and...

That’s what Audrey and Sawyer discover. A family is by its very definition—well, at least by my definition—always willing to give you another chance. And both of them have to decide if they can take the biggest chance of all...a chance on love. I hope you enjoy their story.

Holly

Her Second-Chance Family

Holly Jacobs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

In 2000, HOLLY JACOBS sold her first book to Mills & Boon Books. She’s since sold more than twenty-five novels to the publisher. Her romances have won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks bestseller list. In 2005, Holly won a prestigious Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. In her nonwriting life, Holly is married to a police captain, and together they have four children. Visit Holly at hollyjacobs.com, or you can snail-mail her at PO Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102.

For everyone at Mills & Boon.

I’ve been so fortunate to work

with all of you.

And most especially for

Kathryn Lye...for everything.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

MAY IN WESTERN Pennsylvania could be a roller-coaster month. The weather fluctuated constantly. Hot. Cold. Dry. Wet.

Audrey watched as the raindrops formed ever-changing patterns on the car’s window. Tonight it was obvious that April’s showers weren’t ready to give way to May’s flowers.

As she had the thought, she realized that the showers had given way to a full-on thunderstorm.

Merrill’s boyfriend, Jude, had shown a rare streak of gallantry. He’d not only offered to give them all a ride home, but pulled the car up to the school’s front door so they didn’t get wet.

He had got soaked when he’d run to get the car, though. But that didn’t seem to bother Merrill. She kept reaching across the front seat and running her fingers through his long, wet hair.

Audrey found their touchy-feely moments embarrassing. She generally tried to keep her distance when they got like that, but right now she was sitting behind Jude in the car, so there was nowhere to escape. Even watching the rain splattering against the window didn’t help, so she turned toward Ava instead.

Ava Parker and Merrill Cooper were her best friends. Audrey couldn’t imagine her life without them.

“Graduation. I can’t believe we’re done tomorrow,” Ava repeated for about the twentieth time in the past five minutes. She let out a long, loud squeal and her poker-straight black hair swung wildly. “I can’t believe we’re adults! I almost cried when we practiced moving our tassels over.”

“That graduation rehearsal was one of the dumbest wastes of time ever,” Audrey said loudly. “I am perfectly capable of walking in a line to the stage, accepting a piece of paper and shaking a few hands.”

“Don’t forget moving the tassel,” Ava teased.

“Yeah, I definitely didn’t almost cry. Seriously, they made us practice that? I’m pretty sure that’s why I got accepted at Penn State. My impressive tassel-moving abilities.”

As if she couldn’t stand having even twelve inches between her and Jude, Merrill unbuckled her seat belt and slid to the middle of the bench seat. She snuggled close to the completely soaked Jude.

“Buckle up,” Ava commanded.

Merrill turned around and shook her head in disgust, but not a strand of her beautifully styled blond hair shifted out of place. Audrey didn’t know what product Merrill used on her hair, but it was always perfect. Even in tonight’s humidity.

“You are really thirty, right, Ava?” Merrill asked. “Thirty in an eighteen-year-old body.”

“Almost nineteen,” Ava said prissily. “My father made me promise to never ride in a car with someone who’s been drinking, or won’t wear a seat belt.”

Merrill made a big show out of finding the seat belt and clicking it in place. “There, I’m buckled,” she said, then turned back to cuddling Jude, who let out a yelp of excitement.

“We’re graduates,” he screamed, and pounded on the horn.

“Graduates,” Audrey and Merrill echoed as he continued beeping.

Ava was not a scream-with-excitement sort of girl, but Audrey noticed she was smiling as they all acted like lunatics.

Audrey might have complained about wasting time at the practice, but she was as excited as the others at the thought of graduating. Finally, she was going to start her life. She’d have a career—though she wasn’t sure what it would be—and a family. People who loved her and would always have her back.

She knew she had that in Ava and Merrill. They were more than friends. They were her family. They’d saved her in so many ways.

“We’re graduates,” Merrill hollered again. Jude and Audrey joined in, while Ava simply sat watching them.

Her life was going to be amazing. Audrey just knew it. She was going to have everything she’d always dreamed of. All the things she’d wanted but could never have.

Ava’s smile gave way to a frown. “Slow down, Jude.”

“Come on,” Audrey teased her. “We’ll only be this young once. We’re going to have to work hard again in the fall, but tonight we’re...graduates!” She screamed and Merrill and Jude joined in.

They all waited and finally Ava added her voice to their chorus.

“Graduates!” they shouted at the top of their voices, and Jude beeped the horn again.

“Gradu...”

They never finished the cheer because in that split second everything changed.

All her hopes, all her dreams.

In that single moment Audrey’s future was transformed.

CHAPTER ONE

“JUST A MINUTE,” Sawyer Williams bellowed. He was pretty sure he knew who was at the door, and he was absolutely sure he wasn’t going to be pleased.

He was right. A teenage girl stood on his porch. Her black hair fell softly to her shoulders today instead of standing straight in the harsher spikes she normally wore. Her expression said she wasn’t any more pleased to be here than he was to have her here.

It was the same girl who’d stood on his porch each Saturday for the past month. And for the past three Saturdays, he’d cut her off and told her to leave his property or he was calling the cops. Every visit ended the same way...with him slamming the door in her face.

And here she was again. His first inclination was to actually call the cops this time. But the curiosity that had nibbled at him since that first visit finally got the better of him. He knew who she was, but had no clue why she was here.

Whatever she wanted to say had to be important. At least to her. Still, instead of threatening to call the cops or slamming the door, this time he asked, “Fine. I give up. What do you want?”

The girl jumped back, as if she hadn’t anticipated him asking a question. Her dark blue eyes met his as she took a deep breath and said, “Mr. Williams, I’m Willow Jones.”

“I know exactly who you are and I know exactly what you are.” He’d testified against her, after all. “I repeat, what do you want?”

She glanced at the red SUV in his drive and then turned back to him. She straightened her spine. “I know you’re not happy to see me. Trust me, I am not happy to be here.”

He’d gathered that much from her expression. “So, if you don’t want to be here any more than I want to have you here, why are you on my porch, knocking on my door for the fourth Saturday in a row?”

“I want to ask you if I could mow your lawn this summer.”

The young miscreant—this thief who was surely just getting started on her life of crime—was showing up weekly to ask him for permission to mow his lawn? “What?”

“Listen, she—” she jerked her head in the direction of the car “—she says I need to balance my karma. Right now, I’ve got a lot of negatives going on. She says that being on teeny-bopper probation isn’t enough. She says that the probation actually benefits me and isn’t much of a punishment because if I keep my nose clean, I get my record wiped. It will be almost like it never happened. Only it did happen. And my clean record doesn’t do anything for you. She says that I harmed you and I need to make amends to you. She made me think of something I could do, and I remembered when I ripped off your place that your yard’s huge, so I thought that I could mow it all summer.” She paused and sighed. “And weed it, too.”

Sawyer glanced at the car, but couldn’t make out the driver. He looked back at the girl who wanted to fix her karma. No, not fix it, balance it.

“I have a lawn service,” he said. “They were just here last week and treated for weeds.”

She glanced at the car again, then back at him. “Oh, man, whatever you do, don’t tell her that. She’ll lecture you about chemicals and water tables. Then she’ll show you her nifty little dandelion puller and tell you that if you can’t live with dandelions in your yard, you can yank them out. She’ll tell you that you should just let them be, though, ’cause the bees like ’em and we need bees. She’ll talk about bee collapse as she feeds you something weird that you’ve never heard of. And you can count on the fact it’ll be good for you.”

Sawyer knew he should shut the door on this young hoodlum, but for some reason he found their conversation intriguing. “Like what?”

“Something like quinoa. Yeah, that’s right.” The girl nodded. “You’ve never heard of it. No one in the real world ever has. Anyway, I have to do something for you and balance my karma in her hippie-chick sort of world. I wouldn’t let me in your house if I was you, but I figured your yard was safe. I’ll tell you when I’m coming and you can dead bolt the doors and lock the windows.”

He pointed to the sticker on his window.

“You got a security service? I didn’t notice the sticker, so I’m not sure it’s enough to warn off other future thieves.”

“There are signs, too.”

She shrugged. “I’d have to be stupid to rob your place again. I might be a thief, but I’m not stupid. But maybe it’ll keep other people from trying to break in. So, about the lawn?”

“Like I said, I have a lawn service.” This was another golden opportunity to slam the door on her, but instead he waited to see what her next response would be.

She nodded. “Listen, that’s fine. I get it. Like I said, I don’t blame you. But if you say no, I’m going to have to go back to the car and tell her that after four visits, you finally let me say my piece and still said no. If that happens, either she’ll say that we’ll try again next week—that’s your best option. And I’ll be standing out here again next Saturday. Or she’s going to come out to convince you to let me mow. If she does that, you won’t stand a chance. You might argue. You might put up a good fight. But she won’t listen. And before you know it, I’ll be mowing your yard this summer and you’ll be eating quinoa.”

He glanced at the car again, but still couldn’t make out the driver.

“Really,” Willow said, “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me on anything, but trust me on this...you do not have a choice. Heck, I don’t have a choice. We’re both stuck with the fact that I’m going to mow your lawn one way or another. And I might be a burglar, but she’s...” The sentence drifted off, as if the girl wasn’t sure how to describe her.

“She’s what?” he found himself asking.

The kid’s blue eyes met his. “She’s like no one you’ve ever met. She seems to think she can fix me. I tried to tell her that I’m not broken and I don’t need fixing or saving, but she ignores me and just keeps at it. She says everyone should have a second chance. Then Clinton...”

“Clinton?” he asked.

“Clinton Ross. Another one of her rescues. She says everyone should get a second chance and he laughs and says, ‘Sometimes even a third.’ She agrees and then says, ‘Even a fourth.’ They laugh like it’s some kind of joke. They’re weird. They have family game nights and like doin’ stuff together.”

She shook her head. “But there’s no fighting them. They’ve decided I get a second chance, so I’m getting one whether I want it or not. And part of that second chance means mowing your yard, so that means you don’t have a choice, either.”

“All summer?” he found himself asking.

She nodded. “I’ll bring the lawn mower and supply the gas and everything. You just need to leave me a few garbage cans for the yard trimmings...unless you have a compost pile.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

She sighed. “Well, don’t tell her that or you’ll get a crash course on how you can save the planet one compost pile at a time. Anyway, other than garbage cans, I don’t need anything from you. Just say yes and tell me when it’s convenient for me to come, then forget about me.”

“Really, you don’t...”

“Quinoa,” she said ominously.

Sawyer grudgingly admired the girl for her tenacity. This might have been the woman in the car’s idea, but Willow seemed to be behind it, no matter how she tried to lay the blame on the mysterious her.

“Fine,” he said. “You can mow.”

Willow let out a long sigh. “Great. Any time that’s best?”

“No. Whatever works for you.”

“Fine. I’ll be over next week.” She started down the stairs.

Sawyer called her back. “Hey, is she your mom?”

Willow turned around and laughed. “I sooo am not going to tell her you asked me that. She’s only twelve years older than me. I doubt they’d let anyone else take in a foster kid so close to their own age, but she decided I was hers and...well, like I said, when she decides something, it happens. She wanted me and now I’m hers, like it or not.”

The girl seemed clearly confused at the thought of anyone wanting her that much.

“And she’s a hippie,” he stated. He was surprised to hear a teenager referencing hippies.

She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Really, keep your distance or you’ll be...”

“Eating quinoa.”

She laughed. “Yes.”

Willow turned and started toward the car again, but Sawyer called out, “Hey, what’s her name?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” She ran back over to him, pulled a piece of paper out of her back pocket. “That’s her name, my name—not that you don’t remember me—our address and both our phone numbers. And there’s my social worker and my juvenile probation officer. She says I’m not supposed to be doing it to impress my probation officer, and that unless he asks, I shouldn’t say anything about making restitution like this. She says that doing things for show is shallow. You do the right thing because it’s right, not for glory or recognition. She says that you can call my probation guy if you want, but I’m not supposed to look for credit for doing what’s right.”

“She says a lot of things,” Sawyer said.

Willow sighed, but he thought he detected a slight smile behind her put-upon expression. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” the girl assured him. “I swear, I almost wish she’d smack me when I screw up. It would be fast and over much more quickly.” She obviously spoke from experience and Sawyer found himself angry at the thought of anyone hitting the girl.

“But no, not her,” Willow continued. “She just looks disappointed and then starts talking. Pretty soon I’m doing what she wants just to get her to shut up.”

Sawyer was intrigued by this foster mom who was only twelve years older than the teen at his door.

“I told her that someday I’m going to write a book filled with all the things she says,” Willow continued. “She just laughed and said she’d come to my book signing. She’s always happy and smiling and believing that everyone is better than they really are. Except at night.”

“What happens at night?” he asked, but Willow was gone. She was getting in the car with... He glanced at the paper she’d handed him. Audrey Smith.

It looked as though he was going to have to cancel his lawn service, then he was going to look up quinoa on the net.

* * *

AUDREY SAT IN the car while Willow talked to Sawyer Williams.

Watching the man was a pleasure. Really, it was absolutely pure pleasure.

He was tall, but not too tall. She was sure he checked the box next to brown when asked what color his hair was, but she wasn’t sure that was an adequate description. It was the sort of brown that probably turned lighter in the summer, and darkened to almost black in the winter. It was on its way to lightening up now.

She wondered what he’d look like if he smiled.

She’d driven Willow here weekly and had hurt for the girl every time the man slammed the door in her face.

But for whatever reason, today was different. Sawyer Williams was talking to Willow. Not just threatening to call the cops, but talking.

Willow was heading toward the car when she suddenly turned around and handed Sawyer a card before she walked toward Audrey.

“How’d it go?” Audrey asked as Willow slid in beside her.

“Well, I had to threaten him...”

“Willow.”

Willow laughed. “With quinoa. Well, quinoa and you. Anyway, he finally agreed. Reluctantly.”

Audrey couldn’t help but grin. She knew that Willow probably wouldn’t see Sawyer agreeing to let her work for free all summer as a victory, but it was. The girl had set her mind to a goal and she’d achieved it. As far as Audrey could tell, there hadn’t been very many victories in Willow’s life.

“That’s great, Willow.”

“Says the woman who’s not going to spend her summer mowing a huge lawn for nothing.”

Audrey’s smile faded. “Not for nothing.”

She knew how guilt could eat at someone. Even if it was guilt over circumstances that weren’t entirely your fault. She didn’t want that for Willow. And the juvenile court system’s slap on the wrist wasn’t enough to assuage Willow’s guilt. But a summer of sweating under the hot sun, doing something tangible for Sawyer...that might.

“No, not for nothing,” Willow admitted.

Audrey’s smile was firmly back in place as she announced, “Well, this calls for a celebration. School’s officially over. You’ve accomplished your goal.”

“Your goal,” Willow sniped.

Audrey glanced at her. The merest hint of a smile was playing at the edges of Willow’s scowl.

Audrey took that as a good sign. “Hey, no matter who set the goal, it’s been met, so we’re celebrating.”

“You all look for reasons to celebrate,” Willow groused. After a pause, she added, “What do you have in mind?”

“I know just the thing,” Audrey assured her.

“Quinoa salad?” Willow teased.

Again, Audrey felt encouraged. Maybe she was finally reaching Willow. She wanted to. She’d been doing everything she could think of since the day the teenager walked into her house.

“Something even better,” she assured Willow. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe there’s anything better, but this might qualify. We’ll do dinner at home, then head out.”

They drove the five minutes back to her house and found Maggie May waiting at the front door when they pulled in.

“So how did it go?” she called as Audrey and Willow got out of the car.

When Audrey had bought her house in Wesleyville—a borough between the city of Erie and the Harborcreek home they’d just come from—she’d thought the small house with the big yard had everything she needed. She’d slowly renovated and rehabbed the house until it had everything she wanted, as well.

But it turned out the small house had one huge bonus that no real estate agent could have known about. It had come with Maggie Mayberry as a next-door neighbor.

Maggie May, as the kids called her, was somewhere south of sixty and widowed. She had watched the kids during summer vacations since they’d moved in. Over the past few years Maggie had become more than a neighbor; she’d become family.

“He said yes,” Willow said. “I had to threaten him, though,” she added with a grin.

“With?” Maggie asked.

“Quinoa.” Willow said it as if it were a curse word.

“Hey, you said quinoa was better than you thought,” Audrey protested.

Willow and Maggie both laughed. “It is good,” Audrey protested even as she joined in.

“Congratulations, Willow,” Maggie said.

“We’re going to go to the peninsula tonight,” Audrey told her. “You’re invited for dinner and a sunset.”

“Ask me next time,” Maggie May said. “We both know there will be a next time sooner rather than later. I’ve got a date tonight.”