A Blast from the Past (A Second Chance Romance) Read online

  A Blast from the Past

  (A Second Chance Romance)

  By Sharon Cummin

  Copyright © 2015 Sharon Cummin

  All Rights Reserved

  Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content that is not intended for those under the age of 18. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious and the age of 18 and older. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Twenty Years Earlier

  Olivia

  It was a day I would never forget for the rest of my life. The trees were blowing and clouds filled the sky. I woke up to the sound of a door slamming outside. Summer had just started. You would think I would've been excited, but I wasn't. I liked school and didn't want to be home for three months. It was one of the only places I was able to get away from home and be myself. Our town was pretty small, and everyone knew each other. I had a couple of friends at school, but my dad didn't let me have people over. Summer was pretty boring for me.

  The couple that lived next door to me had just moved out. They were old and said it was too cold for them. I think my mom said they were going to Florida. When I heard a second car door slam, I was afraid to look. Who was moving in, I wondered? Was it more old people, or was it a bunch of bratty kids? I had just turned fourteen and was going to start high school in the fall. There was no way I wanted a bunch of tiny ones running around. It would be so loud. When I heard a third car door close, I knew I had to look.

  I moved to my window and opened my shade the rest of the way. When I looked over and saw him, my mouth dropped open wide. He was the cutest boy I had ever seen. How old was he, I wondered? He was taller than me, but that didn't mean anything. I was pretty short compared to the other kids my age. He had short, dark hair. I saw a man and a woman with him. There weren't many cute boys in our town. I had lived there my whole life, so I knew all of the other kids.

  The boy walked up to the front porch and shook his head. I watched him look up at my window before he sat down on the top step hanging his head down. What was he like, I wondered? There were a million things running wild through my mind. He could be smart, athletic, quiet, loud, nerdy, mean, nice, or sarcastic. Maybe he didn't want to live there. Parents made all the decisions for us. I didn't want him to feel alone. That was a horrible feeling. His mom walked out and said something to him. He got up, shook his head, and walked into the house.

  The next morning, I looked out my window and saw him sitting against a tree with his head in his arms. I wanted to know why he seemed so sad. That was a feeling I knew well sometimes. I knew how guys could be, and I knew I needed to appear confident and in charge. I wasn't sure what I was dealing with and didn't want to end up being bossed around by some boy. I threw some clothes on, brushed my teeth, grabbed some flip-flops, and threw my hair up quickly, as I took off out the door. It was time to welcome him and let him know he was in my territory.

  I knew he didn't hear me coming, and when he looked up, I almost stumbled. He was even cuter up close.

  "My name's Olivia," I mumbled.

  Nice going, I thought. That wasn't confident at all. He put his head back down in his arms without a word. I let out a huff. He was being rude.

  "Do you have a name?" I asked.

  "Zander," he answered from under his arms.

  I leaned down in front of him.

  "How old are you?" I asked.

  "I'm fourteen," he said, as he lifted his head.

  "What's your problem?" I asked.

  "I didn't want to come here. My dad made us move. He took a stupid job here. I'm not staying any longer than I have to. As soon as I turn eighteen, I'm going back to New York."

  "Come with me," I said, as I reached out my hand.

  He rolled his eyes, and I shook my hand in his face. I heard him huff as he grabbed my hand and stood.

  I took him to my spot. It was in the woods behind our houses. I was taking him to the one place I could think and get away from everything, and I hoped it wasn't something I would regret.

  "It's not so bad here. I've lived here my whole life. You could at least give it a chance. This is my spot. My parents never come out here. You can come out here by yourself if you want."

  He let out a laugh. I had chairs and a table set up. There were a couple of plastic boxes with books and other things in them.

  "This is where you hang out," he said with a shake of his head. "Is this your idea of fun?"

  "No," I snapped. "I don't like being in the house when my dad gets home from work. He's mean to my mom, and sometimes, he's mean to me. It's my place to be alone without either of them."

  "I don't get along with my dad either," he said. "He's too busy telling me what I need to do. Nothing I do is ever right in his eyes."

  We sat out there talking for hours. I heard a woman calling his name, and he stood up and looked down at me.

  "You coming out here tomorrow, Livie?" he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  "Olivia," I snapped with my face scrunched in disgust.

  "Whatever," he said.

  "I am," I said. "I come out here every day."

  "I'll see you tomorrow then, Livie," he said.

  I knew in that moment we were going to be friends, even if he was the most irritating boy I had ever met.

  When I stood up, I walked over with a smile, ruffled his hair, and cocked my head to the side.

  "You're not so bad. I'm going to marry you one day," I said with a huge smile.

  I could be irritating too.

  "What?" he yelled out, as I walked away.

  "See you tomorrow, Z," I called back at him from over my shoulder.

  Summer wasn't going to be so bad after all, I thought.

  Chapter 1

  Olivia

  I sat in my bedroom window looking out around the yard. Everything looked so quiet. It really was a peaceful town. I enjoyed living up north in Michigan. Normally, by the middle of February I was ready to run from the snow though. As I watched the house next door, I knew I needed to get moving. Things had sure changed over the years. I shook my head and laughed as I rubbed my eyes and forced myself to stand.

  I grabbed my shorts and pulled them on before slipping a t-shirt over my head. Mrs. Nero's husband had just passed the day before. There were so many things she needed to do. The first of those was eating. I knew if I didn't go over and fi
x her something, she'd let the day pass without a bit of food in her stomach. The brush pulled quickly through my hair as I pulled it up into a messy ponytail. The kids would be up soon and my house would be busy. I shoved my feet into my flip-flops and headed for the door.

  Carol Nero had lived next door since I was a young girl. Her husband Pete had been sick for over two years. She had always been a housewife. They had one son. His name was Zander. He hadn't stepped foot in that house since he was nineteen. There was something between him and his dad that was like nothing I had ever seen. Neither of them ever bothered to take the step to mend their relationship. I had been helping Carol take care of things the two years her husband was ill. He had the best doctors, but they weren't able to save him. She was going to be lost without him. He was everything to her.

  I walked up the driveway to her house which was closer to the woods than mine. Carol always left her doors unlocked. It wasn't unusual for our area. I knew she was probably still asleep, so I let myself in. I could fix her breakfast before I woke her up. The kitchen was quiet. I could hear every tiny noise in the house. It was something I wasn't used to. My house was barely ever quiet. She had a small radio on the counter, so I turned in on low. I pulled some eggs and bacon from the fridge before turning on the stove. Her kitchen window faced east. I could see my bedroom window from there if I looked toward the right. A shiver ran through my body, but I shook it off. I went back to the stove and started her breakfast.

  My mind wandered to my list of things that needed done for the day. I would feed her, feed my kids, open the bakery and work for a few hours, take Carol to make arrangements, get some things done outside, make dinner, and get everyone ready for bed. Carol wouldn't need help with Pete anymore, but I knew she would still need someone around for company. Just as I was flipping a piece of bacon and singing along with the radio, I heard a noise behind me. It would save me a few minutes not having to wake her up. I was glad she as moving around. That was a good sign. I reached in with my fork to flip another piece of bacon when I heard a manly laugh behind me and jumped.

  "Ouch," I snapped, just as my wrist landed on the side of the pan I was using.

  The fork fell to the floor, and I ran for the sink as the hot grease burned my skin. As soon as the water hit it, I felt a tiny bit of relief. Within seconds, arms came around each side of me to push my wrist deeper into the water. My body shook instantly. The arms were strong and manly and bare I noticed as I looked down at them.

  "Shit, Livie," I heard him say. "Are you okay?"

  The use of that name sent so many emotions through my body. I hadn't heard it in sixteen years. It made me happy, sad, excited, and angry all at the same time. Am I okay, I thought? So much had happened in my life since he walked out of it. That was the time he decided to ask if I was okay. What about the other hundred times I needed him? My body went stiff, and I jerked away from him.

  "I'm fine," I snapped. "Do not call me that."

  "I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

  I could hear concern dripping through his words and shook my head again.

  "What the hell is wrong with you? You could have at least said you were there," I growled.

  "And prevent you from continuing the show you were putting on," he laughed. "Not a chance. Let me go get something for your arm."

  "Don't bother," I said. "It'll be fine. It's not the first time I've burnt myself. I'm sure it won't be the last either."

  When I turned around, my breath caught in my throat. The man standing in front of me was an entirely different one than the one who had walked out that door sixteen years earlier. He was absolutely perfect. There was no other way to explain him. He was tall. His hair was dark and his eyes were just as dark. That was the same, but his body was something else. It didn't help that he was standing there bare chested with flannel pajama pants hanging from his waist. His arms, chest, and abs were like something out of a damn magazine. Don't even get me started on that sexy-as-hell v that led down into those pants that hung perfectly from his hips. My eyes traveled down and back up his body. When they stopped on his eyes, reality hit me. Don't ogle the asshole that walked out of your life. He was your best friend, and he left you. I closed my eyes. When I opened them back up, I looked him in eyes.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I had no idea you were going to be here. I wouldn't have come over. I just wanted to make sure she ate something before I left for work. Since you're here, you can finish it. As soon as I say hello, I'll leave."

  When I moved to walk past him, he grabbed my arm. The warmth that ran up my arm shocked me. I never thought I'd ever feel that again.

  "Let me get something for your arm."

  His voice was deeper than when he left. There was a soft caring tone there as well. Don't be stupid, I thought to myself.

  "No," I said.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  "Yep," I answered.

  "Thank you for being here for her," he said in a low voice. "She told me you've been helping her the last couple of years. That's very nice of you. I was surprised when she told me."

  "Someone needed to do it," I quietly snapped, as I narrowed my eyes at him.

  "You know I," he began.

  Carol turned the corner just as he started his sentence. I pulled away from his reach and went to her. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight.

  "I came over to make you breakfast, but Zander volunteered to finish making it," I said. "I'm going to get going. I'll check on you later."

  When I turned to leave, I looked back over my shoulder.

  "Are you going to take her to make the arrangements then?"

  "Yes," he answered.

  "Great," I said. "I'll see you later, Carol."

  I couldn't get out of that house and down that driveway fast enough. My heart was beating so fast. It felt like my chest was closing in on me. I needed to catch my breath. As soon as I shut my door, I leaned back against it and let out a long breath. When I reached up to run my fingers through my hair, I realized it was a mess and took off for the mirror. My eyes landed on the eyes looking back at me as tears slid from them and embarrassment hit me. After sixteen years, that was what I looked like when I saw him. It was not at all how I had dreamt it would go. I couldn't believe he was really there, and I couldn't believe what he looked like. How the hell was I going to get through those next few days without pouring my heart out or losing my mind, I wondered?

  Chapter 2

  Zander

  That wasn't how I expected to see her again after so many years. Neither of our lives were the same as they were in high school. She never wanted a big city life. I knew that. She wanted the country life. She always had. I remembered her talking about it constantly. Olivia loved baking. It pulled her away from real life. She enjoyed making new things and changing the things she already knew how to make. I was always her tester. Some of the things she made were disgusting, but others were absolutely amazing. Like melt in your mouth, make you forget about real life amazing. I knew she'd own a bakery one day. She had no idea I had anything to do with the fact that she did. As far as she was concerned, I left for my life in New York and never looked back. That wasn't the case at all.

  When I walked down the stairs to make coffee, I couldn't help but watch the site before. She stood there in the tiniest pair of shorts, a snug t-shirt, and those damn flip-flops. They were all she ever wore. She couldn't stand to have her feet stuffed inside of shoes. It drove her crazy. Seeing her like that was the most beautiful sight in the world. It was such a different site than I was used to seeing in New York. Women weren't the same there. Her hair was pulled off her neck in a messy ponytail. She looked different. Her body had more curves than she did our senior year. She never worried about what anyone thought of her. I really liked that about her. She was who she was, and you could take it or leave it. She never let anyone bother her. Sometimes I couldn't believe how strong she was. It took everything I had not to grab her in my arms and hold her. I hadn't seen
her in sixteen years. They were the longest years of my life. I was mesmerized watching her dance while she cooked my mother breakfast. She had her own family to take care of, but there she was, early in the morning, taking care of my mom.

  It was hard seeing my mom after so long. I didn't think it would be as hard as it was to come back home for his funeral. He was always an ass to me. I never meant a damn thing to him, but she was different. My mother loved me. We talked once a week on the phone. Getting him the best doctors and paying all of the medical bills weren't enough. They thought the insurance covered everything. He would never have accepted my help, but I knew the stress would be too hard on her. She always worried about money. Being back made me realize how much I had abandoned her. I didn't mean to. I just couldn't stand hearing about how I had somehow disappointed him. She had always defended him to me. I know he took care of us and made sure she was home with me growing up. I understood why she loved him. I loved him too. I worked so hard to make that man happy, but it never worked. The harder I tried, the worse he was on me. I honestly don't understand why he even wanted a child with her. He never gave a shit.

  I couldn't help but laugh as Livie flipped bacon and swung her hips. When she jumped and burnt herself, I felt horrible. I crossed that floor and tried to get her arm under the water. It was my fault she was hurt. I don't know if I expected a warm welcome, but I definitely didn't expect the one I received. She pulled away from me and refused to let me help with her burn. I was a doctor, and a very good one at that. Top in my field, actually. She looked at me like I was the scum of the earth. She couldn't fool me though. I felt her reaction when my hands touched her. I felt her body shiver beneath my fingers. Her hands were shaking. She could act all she wanted like my being there didn't have an effect on her, but she was full of shit. When I called her Livie, I thought her head was going to explode. It was like I had said it for the first time. She was pissed that first time I called her that, but it was something she could never get away from. She was my Livie. I don't think I had called her Olivia more than five times those four years in high school.