forgedText Copyright 2017 Natalie Ann

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without a written consent.

  Dedication- To my son…thanks for teaching me the important things in a boy’s life…video games and bacon.

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Road Series

  Lucas and Brooke’s Story- Road to Recovery

  Jack and Cori’s Story – Road to Redemption

  Mac and Beth’s Story – Road to Reality

  Ryan and Kaitlin’s Story - Road to Reason

  The All Series

  Ben and Presley’s Story – All Or Nothing

  Phil and Sophia’s Story – All Of Me

  Alec and Brynn’s Story – All The Way

  Sean and Carly’s Story — All I Want

  Drew and Jordyn’s Story— All My Love

  Finn and Olivia’s Story— All About You

  The Lake Placid Series

  Nick and Mallory’s Story- Second Chance

  Max and Quinn’s Story – Give Me A Chance (coming in March 2017)

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Desperate

  Pride Be Damned

  Diplomatic

  Good Riddance

  A Little Excited

  Take Care of Us

  Adapt

  Understanding

  Kind Eyes

  Someone Far Removed

  A Connection

  Together

  The Best He Could Do

  Game

  Damage Control

  Don’t Be Jealous

  Please

  An Example

  Old Sense

  Feeling Our Way

  Out of the Way

  Escape

  Walk Away

  More Often

  Christmas Memory

  Angel Wings

  Choices

  Little Things in Life

  Great Weekend

  Vacation

  The Best of It

  Talk To Her

  First Dress

  Something to Remember

  Parenthood

  Good Enough

  Worlds Apart

  Refused

  Princess

  Never

  Fight for Something

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Quinn pulled the front of her zippered sweatshirt tighter together and tried to ignore the tiny hole her thumb just slipped through.

  Stopping on the street corner, she looked around and saw the normal everyday traffic, people moving fast with their heads down. In her neighborhood, pedestrians didn’t make eye contact and it was better that way.

  She reached down, pretending not to notice the frayed edges of the sweatshirt that was two sizes too big and decades old. As she placed the ends of the plastic zipper together and tugged, she hoped it didn’t break, just like she did every time she tried to close it. When it got caught up on some loose material, she yanked fast, the zipper closing all the way up to her neck.

  Pulling the zipper down a bit, she readied herself and lifted her hood over her head. It’d keep the wind off her neck, not that it offered much warmth in the late fall of her Chicago neighborhood.

  Neighborhood. That was a joke. It was the slums and anyone who said differently was only fooling themselves.

  She took a steadying breath, dreading what she was about to do, but what she’d had to more times than she cared to admit. It wasn’t like she enjoyed it, but she had no choice. The kids were depending on her.

  Lowering her eyes and straightening her shoulders, she marched into the convenience store like she did every few days. She knew how much she could spend, but she’d have to take a bit more.

  Unfortunately, the balance on the EBT card her mother left on the table just wasn’t going to stretch enough for the four hungry mouths in the house.

  Not knowing when her mother might return, Quinn figured she’d have to get enough to last a few days. Since it was Friday, she was pretty sure her mother wouldn’t show up again until late Sunday night, maybe even Monday morning…after Quinn had gotten her brothers and sister up and walked her brothers to school before heading there herself. The baby would be left with a neighbor, if she could find one who’d open their door.

  Doing as little as possible, that was her mother.

  Time to get this over with. Quinn opened the door, heard the bell chime, and walked over toward the pasta shelf. It was cheap, filling, and she could make it last, while spicing it up so the kids didn’t think they were always eating the same thing all the time. She learned to be creative in the kitchen thanks to a neighbor giving her herbs to grow on the windowsill in their tiny two-bedroom apartment.

  With her head down, she moved quickly, grabbing what she needed, what she knew she had enough money for, then moving toward the other aisle. There was no soap or toothpaste left in the house. She’d used the last bit herself. They might be poor, but they could still be clean.

  Shuffling the food items in her hands, she quickly and efficiently slid the toothpaste inside her sweatshirt on one side, then looked around, made sure no one saw her, and did the same with a bar of soap.

  Her head was racing, her hands were sweating, and she was silently praying to a God that never seemed to answer her prayers. No matter how many times she’d done this, it didn’t make her feel any better. She was just glad she needed smaller items this time, not bigger boxes of feminine products. Those was harder to hide in her clothing.

  She walked a few more aisles over, browsing for anything that might be marked down that she could rearrange and manage to squeeze in with the limited amount of funds she had.

  After a few minutes, she decided to just buy what she had and save any remaining balance for another day. There was still one more week in the month anyway.

  “What do you think you’re doing, you little punk?” she heard right before a strong hand gripped her shoulder tight.

  She felt the tears well up in her eyes, but pushed them back, squared her shoulders, and tried to shrug off the hand…only it wasn’t moving. Time to be strong, time to talk herself out of this.

  But when she turned to see who the hand belonged to, it wasn’t an employee or the store owner, it was a police officer.

  Desperate

  Fourteen years later

  Max Hamilton walked into the restaurant and looked around for a quiet, out of the way booth. Finding one in the back corner, he stepped over and waited for his nanny to show up. He’d left the house before her and ran to the hospital for a quick check on a patient.

  He looked up when the young waitress came over. “Hi, can I get you some coffee?”

  “That will be good. I’m meeting someone, if you can bring two over.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  She walked away and he sat there dreading the conversation he knew was coming. One that he’d been avoiding for months. If he could find a way to avoid it altogether, he would.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting long, Max,” Jennifer said as she slid into the side opposite him.

  “I just got here a minute ago. Coffee is on the way.”

  “Thanks. I don’t have much time actually. I promised the kids I’d get them by ten.” She stopped and looked at her watch. “I’ve got about thirty minutes.”

  “We can order as soon as our coffee arrives,” he said, not liking that she was going to rush out on him, too. Never a good sign. “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  “Max,” she said patiently. “You know what. You’ve been avoiding me and this conversation for too long.”

  He knew it, and hated that she called him out on it, but she’d been the kids’ nanny for years. And she was always to the point, one of the traits he admired so much.

  They’d always gotten along so well and he knew this day would come—no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

  “What can I do to change your mind? You name it.”

  “Max,” she said, sighing loudly, then pausing while their coffee was delivered.

  “Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked.

  “French toast for me,” Max said. He’d been dying for it and he didn’t often get home-cooked food. At least not for breakfast.

  “Scrambled eggs and toast,” Jennifer added.

  Max watched the waitress write it down efficiently and then head off behind a swinging door.

  “I’ll pay you more. Do you want more room in the house? I can redo your suite, add more space. You name it, it’s yours. Don’t leave, Jennifer.”

  She reached over and placed her hand on his. “Max, this is hard for me too. I promised you one year and it’s been longer. I love those kids like they’re my own, but I need to leave.”

  “Think of the kids then. They’re going to be heartbroken. Do you want to disrupt their lives even more?”

  He knew it was a low blow and he was begging, but he wasn’t beyond doing what he needed to assure she stayed. He needed her too much right now.

  She laughed lightly and he felt his teeth grind. It was the same little laugh she always gave when he knew he was going t
o lose. “The kids will be just fine. They’ve adjusted well to the move, and you know that.”

  “They haven’t,” he argued. “They hate living here.”

  That wasn’t technically true. They just hated riding the bus every day and having all their friends far away from their house on the lake.

  “Well, so do I,” Jennifer said. “I hate this cold and I want to be gone before the next winter. I had planned on leaving this past summer and training someone new before the school year started, but you talked me into staying for that. I want to be home by Thanksgiving. I miss my parents.”

  He knew she was close to her family and felt bad she didn’t get to see them as much, especially since they were getting on in age. “I’ll fly them here.”

  “You know what I mean, Max. I understand why you left New York City. I get it. I get everything you’ve had to do and you gave me more than I asked for to make the move with you. I did it for the kids. They didn’t deserve what happened in their life any more than you did, and I thought coming along would help.”

  “It did. It does,” he amended, running out of things to say to convince her not to leave.

  “They’re old enough now. They don’t need me as much as you think.”

  “Eleven and nine aren’t old. They still need someone.”

  How was he going to find someone on such short notice? Thanksgiving was only a month away. How could he do this alone?

  “You know what I mean. There isn’t much for me to do during the day. You don’t need a nanny anymore. You need more of a housekeeper, cook, and nanny combined. That’s not me.”

  “I’ll hire someone to come in and clean the house.” He was getting desperate. “I’ll get you cooking lessons.”

  She laughed out loud and he didn’t care if he’d insulted her. She wasn’t the best cook and he knew it, the kids knew it, and even Jennifer knew it herself.

  “I’m sorry, Max. I’m not going to let you talk me out of it this time. I’m officially giving you one month’s notice. I will ask around to see if I can find someone and I’ll help any way I can, but I bought my ticket and I’m going home a few days before Thanksgiving.”

  He watched as she stood up. “Where are you going?” She couldn’t just drop that bombshell and leave, could she?

  “If I stay here, you’ll only try to talk me out of it.”

  “It’s worked before,” he said, smiling briefly. Damn her for seeing right through him.

  “It has, but it won’t again. I’m going to pick the kids up from their friends’ house and then we’ve got errands to run and projects to work on. I’ll see you home after you make your rounds.”

  She walked away from him before he could say another word. Homework projects, too. This was getting worse and worse. Now he needed someone that could help with that.

  A few minutes later their breakfast was delivered, and the waitress started to look confused. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” Max said. “She just had to leave. Please give her meal to someone else if you’d like. It’s a cold day out. If you know of anyone in need of food, I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” the waitress said. “Actually, we do have a shelter a few blocks away. I’ll just put this aside for them to send over with the leftover baked goods that don’t sell by the end of the day.”

  Max frowned. He’d always had a good appreciation for food. “It’ll be cold by then. No, that won’t do. How many beds in the shelter?” he asked, curious.

  “I believe ten,” she replied.

  “Is it possible to cook up nine more meals and put it on my tab? I can drop it off when I leave if you give me the address and let them know I’m coming.”

  “I can do that. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

  Max watched the waitress walk away. It was nothing for him to do this, something he’d done often in New York.

  Food was a simple thing and something that was easy enough for him to do. He’d seen his fair share of homeless and hungry kids during his residency. It wasn’t a sight he’d ever forget.

  He dug into his French toast like a starving man, then fought to chew and swallow it past the lump in his throat, wondering what the hell he was going to do now.

  He was trying to figure out how so much of his life had changed in the last two years. He never expected to be in this situation, let alone in a different city.

  A single parent now, a demanding job, and even though he’d thought the move would slow his workload down, the opposite seemed to have happened. A small tourist town, combined with his reputation, and people were willingly traveling to see him now, using the excuse to vacation at the same time as they recovered. Why he never thought of that before was beyond him.

  Still, he couldn’t do it alone. He couldn’t be there for his kids and support them at the same time financially like they were accustomed if he didn’t work. His practice would never survive. He had employees counting on him, too.

  His children had already had their world upturned before the move. He’d needed Jennifer on board to create some stability in their life.

  He would forever be grateful for her being there over the last eight years, but now he needed to figure out what to do when she left.

  He picked up his coffee and took a sip. It was even better here than it was at home. Maybe she was right, maybe he did need to focus on a housekeeper who could watch after the kids, rather than a nanny that hated to cook and clean.

  Maybe it was time for a change, even if it was one that was being forced on him.

  Pride Be Damned

  Quinn was sitting in the booth behind the couple. She hadn’t been eavesdropping, not really. Only it was hard not to hear what they were saying with the restaurant quiet in the back corner.

  There was the normal lull in the breakfast crowd, so she took the time to sit and roll silverware into napkins.

  Should she say something to him? She wanted to. She wanted to know about this job opening she’d just heard him talking about. By the sound of it, it seemed full time. Not to mention a place to live…even better.

  From experience, she knew nothing ever fell into her lap. Hard work and speaking up had always gotten her where she needed to be. Not that she’d gotten far in life, but far enough.

  Enough to survive and that’s all she’d ever been concerned with.

  What the hell, the worst he could say was no. She cleared her throat hoping to get his attention, but he didn’t lift his head, just continued to eat his breakfast.

  So she cleared her throat again, this time a bit louder. He glanced up at her briefly, then back down. At least she got a closer look at him. He didn’t seem old enough to have kids that age. Then again, she wasn’t a good judge of a man’s age.

  All she could tell was he was clean-shaven, even on a Saturday morning. His shirt looked nice and expensive. More than she’d ever pay, she was sure. More than she could afford, by the look of the logo on the front pocket.

  Obviously he had money since he was looking for a nanny. She wondered what he did. Well, only one way to find out.

  She stood up and moved a few feet in front of him, then waited until he looked up at her again. His eyes looked troubled, but she pushed on. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  He titled his head slightly, his full lips forming a grimace that didn’t detract from his handsomeness at all, now that she was seeing him up close. He had thicker brows, strong cheekbones, and a square chin.

  “No problem. It’s not a good morning, as I’m sure you heard.”

  “You’re looking for a nanny?” she asked, wanting to get clarification.

  “I guess. Though Jennifer is probably right. I really need more of a housekeeper and cook who is willing to keep an eye on the kids and cart them around. I’m not always available. Do you know someone?”

  “Me,” she said before she lost her nerve. He looked skeptical, but she pushed on, “Do you mind if I sit for a minute and ask a few questions?”

  He gestured to the booth across from him. “Don’t you have work to do, Quinn?” he asked, eying her nametag.