Brenda Harlen - The Single Dad's Second Chance

Andrew listened to the conversation.

While he went to the other room, Rachel gathered up the cards they were playing with his daughter. “Maybe we should play Candy Land next time,” he heard her say to Maura. “I’m pretty good at that game.”

“You really like Candy Land?” the girl asked.

“It was one of my favorite games when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t know it was that old,” Maura said so solemnly that Rachel had to laugh.

“Even my mother played it when she was a little girl,” she told the child.

“My mommy’s dead,” Maura told her.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe someday I could get a new mommy. But she’ll have to be someone my daddy likes.”

“That would probably help,” Rachel agreed.

“Daddy likes you,” Maura said.

And that was Andrew’s cue. He stepped back into the room before his daughter proposed right there and then.

* * *

Those Engaging Garretts!

The Carolina Cousins

The Single Dad’s Second Chance

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA HARLENis a former family law attorney turned work-at-home mom and national bestselling author who has written more than twenty books for Mills & Boon. Her work has been validated by industry awards (including an RWA Golden Heart ®Award and the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award) and by the fact that her kids think it’s cool that she’s “a real author.”

Brenda lives in southern Ontario with her husband and two sons. When she isn’t at the computer working on her next book, she can probably be found at the arena, watching a hockey game. Keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook, follow her on Twitter at @BrendaHarlen, or send her an e-mail at brendaharlen@yahoo.com.

To all of the readers who asked for more “Garretts”—

thanks for welcoming my characters

into your lives and your hearts.

Contents

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

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter One

Rachel Ellis hated Valentine’s Day.

Not that she’d ever admit as much to any of the customers who had formed an almost-steady stream of traffic through the door of Buds & Blooms since about 11:00 a.m., but she had expressed the sentiment—more than a few times already today—to her best friend and business partner, Holly Kendrick.

“Can you tell me,” Rachel asked, when she went to the back during a rare quiet moment in the shop, “why so many men seem surprised to realize it’s Valentine’s Day when it falls on February 14 every single year?”

“Because they’re men,” Holly said simply.

“And is that why they also wait until the absolute last minute to buy flowers for their wives or girlfriends?”

“Yep.”

“Next year we should offer discounts for advance orders.” They had taken some, but those represented a small percentage of the sales already processed that day.

“It won’t matter,” Holly told her.

Rachel knew her friend was probably right. She sank down into a chair by the worktable. “I’m just going to take ten minutes to rest my feet before the next rush.”

She only managed about half of that before the bell rang, indicating another customer had entered the shop.

Trish, a local college student who helped out part-time, showed up at two o’clock so that Holly could go home to get ready for her date with Shane—her on-again, off-again boyfriend of the past two years. Rachel, who had no plans, would stay until closing time at six o’clock.

It was quarter to the hour now, and there were only a couple of customers left in the shop. Her cheeks hurt from the smile she’d kept firmly plastered on her face as she boxed or wrapped order after order throughout the afternoon, and she was looking forward to the day being over.

But when Andrew Garrett walked through the door, just a few minutes before closing time, she didn’t have to force the smile. He was a regular if not frequent customer, coming into Buds & Blooms three times a year without fail—Valentine’s Day, August 10 and November 22. She didn’t really know him. In fact, she only knew his name because it was on the credit card that he used to pay for his purchases. But for some inexplicable reason, her heart always beat just a little bit faster when he was around.

Or maybe it wasn’t so inexplicable. After all, the man was a certified hunk. He stood about six-three with broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and moss-green eyes looked out beneath straight brows. His jaw was cleanly shaven, his mouth was deliciously shaped, and when he’d smiled at her the first day he came into the shop, her knees had actually gone weak.

Then she’d dropped her gaze and noticed the well-worn gold band that circled the third finger of his left hand. She should have expected as much—the only time gorgeous single men ever walked through the door of Buds & Blooms was Mother’s Day.

February 14 had fallen on a Sunday that year, and he’d been one of the first customers through the door. He’d wanted a dozen white roses, and she’d laid the creamy white flowers out on top of a fan of ferns, added some baby’s breath, then wrapped the arrangement in silver paper and clear cellophane and tied it together with white raffia. Even after three years, she remembered those details, and she wondered if that was evidence of the customer service she prided herself on or proof that she was pathetically infatuated with a handsome—and married—stranger.

“A dozen white roses?” she asked.

He smiled, and her heart did a funny little turn in her chest. “Good memory.”

She went to the back to retrieve the flowers, then added the accent foliage and wrapped the arrangement. “Can I get you anything else today?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s all.”

She rang up the purchase and reached for the credit card he held out to her. Their fingers touched—briefly—in the transfer, but she felt a jolt at the unexpected contact.

Married, she reminded herself sternly.

And even if he wasn’t, she’d made too many mistakes where the male gender was concerned to want to risk another one.

She processed the transaction and returned his card along with a receipt and his flowers.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She kept the smile on her face until he’d walked out the door, then flipped the lock and wondered, Why are the good ones always taken?

* * *

As a single woman, Rachel really did hate Valentine’s Day. But as a business owner counting the receipts, she had to love it. They’d sold more flowers in just ten hours today than they would in the rest of the month, and while Trish cleaned up the work counters in the back, Rachel restocked the display cases at the front of the store and made notes on what she would have to add to her orders this week.

“Do you want to go somewhere to grab a bite?” she asked Trish. Because of the thick gloves she wore in deference to the frigid temperature, she fumbled a little with the key as she locked up.

“Oh, um, that sounds great, but—”

“But you’ve got a date,” Rachel guessed.

Her employee nodded.

“You should have said something—I could have finished up by myself.”