Second Chance Dad. Pamela StoneЧитать онлайн книгу.
story in a tabloid.
They’d both checked out before Hanna noticed Vince. She clutched her two plastic bags, the rolled-up tabloid sticking out the top of one.
“So, do you think Elvis weighs four hundred pounds and works behind the counter at the Memphis KFC?” he asked.
She glanced down at the bag and her cheeks turned the most adorable shade of pink. “They must have stuck it in my bag by accident.”
She shifted the bags to her other hand, fished her sunglasses off the top of her head and shoved them on her nose. As she adjusted her shoulder bag, her blouse gaped apart, giving him a glimpse of sexy pink lace against creamy breast.
He gulped and looked up, catching her eye as she noted the direction of his stare. Shit! What did he say now? Nice bra there, Hanna. “Let me know if you spot Elvis.”
Chapter Three
Hanna wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hand and grabbed a handful of mystery novels from the cardboard box. Smiling, she arranged them on the shelf she’d just polished. Bluebonnet Books was just what she needed to take her mind off the fiasco her life had become. Books had always been her escape. When Hanna was young, her mother had installed floor-to-ceiling bookcases in Hanna’s bedroom beside the padded window seat where she’d read to her. Books about faraway places and people with exciting lives. The stories had given Hanna a yearning for life outside of small-town Texas.
“I thought you were going to put those in the front display window to draw in folks strolling down the sidewalk. That author’s on the New York Times bestseller list.”
Taking a deep breath, Hanna straightened the books on the shelf, whether they needed straightening or not. “I plan to put some up front, too, Mom. Doesn’t hurt to have a few copies in both places so they’re easy to find.”
“I’m sure you know what’s best,” Mom said. “We also need a display of the latest romances on an end cap. Mrs. Haythorn reads a romance a day. Oh, and Mr. Miller always used to lend those adventure books to Daddy after he’d read them, so make sure they’re at eye level. His knees are bad.”
Toting the box to the front of Bluebonnet Books, Hanna dropped it on the wood floor, which was scarred and aged from years of various businesses that had opened their doors there. Hopefully the bookstore wouldn’t suffer a fate similar to the other shops. She glanced through the large plate-glass window as Darryl and Mary Wortham strolled by arm in arm, as much in love as they had been when Hanna went off to college. How could she have been gone fifteen years and returned to find everything the same? She took a breath and considered the wisdom of going into business with her mother. True, the combined funds helped. She’d never have pulled it off without her mother overseeing the renovation and being in the store to receive shipments while Hanna was still in Dallas battling Richard in divorce court. And it would be good to have two of them to switch off managing the store until they could afford to hire additional help. Plus Norma Creed needed something to keep her busy and out of everyone else’s business.
But after only one week officially back in town, Hanna already doubted the wisdom of spending twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week with her passive-aggressive mother. Not that she didn’t love her mom, but living under her roof again after fifteen years away put Mom smack in the middle of every aspect of Hanna’s life. That wasn’t good in the best of situations, and right now Hanna was still trying to recover from Richard’s heart-breaking betrayal and the bitter divorce.
In a few months, she hoped the store would start turning enough of a profit that she and Ashton could find their own place.
Scooping up a couple of books, she turned as a small red motorized bicycle putted up to the curb—with her son riding behind that girl.
“Ashton!” Her heart leaped into her throat as she dropped the books and raced out of the shop. “What are you doing on that thing?”
He slid off from behind Mackenzie and removed the red helmet, grinning as if he’d just descended from an amusement-park roller coaster. “You don’t have to pick me up anymore, Mom. I got a ride.”
No way! “You are not ever to get on that thing again. You could be killed.”
Mackenzie threw her leg over and stood beside Ashton, removing her own helmet. What was left of her ponytail hung in tangles. “We had on helmets.”
“He did not have permission to get on a motorized bicycle. That thing is small and hard to see and dangerous.”
“I know how to ride it and watch for cars and stop at lights and stuff,” Mackenzie said. “I’m a good driver. I took a class and got all the questions right.”
“Why are you two even out of school?” Hanna checked her watch. Oh my God. She’d been so busy stocking the shelves for next week’s opening she’d forgotten to pick up her son. “Both of you hear this very clearly. I won’t have Ashton riding on that thing. End of subject.”
Ashton stood on the sidewalk shuffling his new white sneakers. “But, Mom.”
“No but Moms. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hanna stepped aside so Dave Barkley, carrying two plastic bags, could pass on the narrow sidewalk. Mrs. Barkley had probably given him a list of groceries to bring home from their corner grocery store. All the men in town gathered each afternoon in the old wooden chairs out front of Dave’s store to shoot the breeze. Hanna returned his nod and waited until he climbed into his truck. “Mackenzie, I don’t know how things work at your house, but we have rules in this family. The first rule is to ask permission before doing new things. The next time you would like Ashton to do something, he has to check with me first or he won’t be allowed to run around with you. If your parents let you risk your life, that’s their business, but Ashton’s safety is my responsibility. Do I need to spell this out?”
The girl set her jaw, took the extra helmet from Ashton and strapped it on the bike’s back bar. “Why don’t you just lock him in his room until he’s, like, eighteen? It’d be about as much fun as you let him have. At least nobody’d pick on him, huh?” She jammed her helmet on her head, straddled the motorized monstrosity and sped away from the curb.
Ashton squared his shoulders and glared. “Now you’ve chased off the only friend I have. You treat me like a baby. You dress me like a wuss. You don’t want me to have any fun, ever! And now tomorrow, when Bully Baer picks on me, Kenzie probably won’t even be on my side. Why do you hate me?” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stomped past his grandmother and into the store.
“Ashton, come back here!”
Norma Creed stood in the doorway of the shop worrying the lace collar on her prim pink blouse and staring after Mackenzie. “You’re wise to restrict Ashton’s association with that wild child. You have to keep him safe.”
“Mom, I fully realize that.” She followed her mother back into the shop. “Where did Ashton go?”
Norma looked around the vacant bookstore. “You don’t think he took off out the back after her, do you?”
Wonderful! Hanna walked through the narrow store, looking each way until she reached the back door into the alley where Ashton was kicking up a cloud of dirt and gravel. “What are you doing?”
“I hate stupid glowing white shoes.” He jabbed his new sneakers in the dirt. “Why couldn’t you buy me blue or gray? I hate it here. I don’t have any friends and it’s all your fault. It’s worse than Dallas,” he accused, spinning around and stirring up dust like a Texas dirt devil.
His unhappiness jabbed through her heart like a rusty knife. “Honey, I want you to have friends, but I have to make sure you don’t get hurt and that bike is dangerous.”
“I don’t care. It’d be better to get hurt than to get made fun of,” he said, looking away.
“Slow down before you start