Page 38 of Second Chances

Henry began to refuse when Charlotte interrupted. “That would be appreciated, Javier.” After he left, she said, “I think we should both get what we want.”

Henry shifted in his seat. All he wanted was the woman sitting at this table with him, the one whose dark hair glinted with candlelight, the one whose smile made the cutest pair of dimples appear in her cheeks, the one whose curves he had fantasized about far too often. The one who had been brave when he wasn’t, the one who still got emotional when talking about her parents, the one who cared about not just her students or the friends she had made, but the town she’d only lived in for a short while. Charlotte exuded life and peace and contentment.

A Modelo was suddenly at his elbow, along with their entrees. “For you, Henry, a lamb mole, and for you, Charlotte, chile-rubbed pheasant.” With a mortar and pestle, Javier quickly assembled table-side guacamole. “And, of course, our house-made corn tortillas. Buen Provecho!”

“Everything looks divine!” Charlotte exclaimed. She sampled her pheasant, and her eyes closed in bliss. “Amazing…absolutely amazing.” Javier grinned, then left.

“I was never a fan of mole until I had it here,” Henry confessed to Charlotte after taking a second bite. “I don’t know what Miguel does. I’ve tried to make it at home, and it never turns out.”

“Do you cook, then, Henry?” Charlotte loved to cook, but found that doing it only for herself wasn’t as satisfying. On the flip side, she could experiment more with flavors now that she was single. Brady had possessed a very limited palate with no willingness to expand.

“I do, and I’ve gotten more creative the older I get. Josh and I struggled through a few years where we ate too much junk, like frozen dinners and ready-made meals. But now, I like the challenge of trying something new.”

“I know what you mean. Like this pheasant. Since my dad hunted, I grew up eating it, but not like this. I never would’ve thought to add cumin and cayenne…and I think I even taste some cinnamon. So delicious. Yours looks incredible.”

“Do you like mole?”

“Would you believe I’ve never had it?”

“What? Charlotte, you have been missing Miguel’s best dish. Here,” he said, scooping up a bite-sized portion on his fork, “try mine.”

A tendril of her hair slipped out of her updo, curling onto her shoulder, as she leaned across the table for a bite. “Mmm,” Charlotte moaned. “That’s so good.”

Intoxicated by her sensuality, Henry allowed his gaze to drift down slightly, where the candlelight danced warmly on her shoulders. The neckline of her dress had dipped, and while it wasn’t overly revealing, on Charlotte it was sexy. Keeping his eyes over her head as she straightened, he figured that discussing their kids would provide a welcome distraction. “Since you know my son so well, tell me about your daughter.”

Beaming, she said, “Isobel? She’s the one thing I got right in this world.”

Nodding in agreement, Henry said, “I get that. There was life before Josh and life after Josh. Nothing compares to that feeling when he needs my advice or guidance, you know? It’s the same as when he was a newborn and he opened up his eyes…looked right into me.” He paused for a drink, then continued, “The time Isobel was at the shop, I was struck by how much she looked like you.”

Charlotte raised her head, surprised. “You think so?”

“Absolutely—the eyes, that same tilt to the head that you have. Your dimples,” Henry pointed out, making Charlotte’s cheeks turn a delicate pink.

“Everyone has always said that she looks like her dad, and she does, but I’ve always thought there was a lot of me in her, too.” Charlotte’s eyes held Henry’s, her smile slipping under his intense gaze.

“Is she a teacher, like you?” To prevent himself from touching her, he rubbed his thumb around the rim of his water goblet.

“No, she’s a nurse, like my friend Amy, who’s the closest thing Isobel has to an aunt, since both my ex and I are only children. They actually work in the same hospital in Sioux City. She’s so driven and passionate about medicine and helping people. Brilliant, too, and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mom. She loves exploring the world, learning about new places. Her dream is to be a traveling nurse.”

“Wow, really? What an amazing opportunity that would be. When Josh went to college in New York City, I was so proud of him. He had Liam there, but he was essentially on his own because they went to different schools.”

“They’re close, aren’t they…Liam and Josh?”

“Like brothers more than cousins. They’re only six months apart.”

Charlotte finished her entrée. “That’s something I regret for Isobel—she doesn’t even have a cousin, no one she grew up with. We never intended for her to be an only child, but…” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I wanted to wait so I could go to college after she started kindergarten. Then, when I graduated, I began teaching. After a couple of years, when Isobel was about eleven, we tried for another baby, but no luck. It was disappointing, but I took it as a sign to concentrate on my career, focus all my attention on my daughter…on teaching.” That had been something Brady complained about—that after Isobel, teaching, and even Amy, Charlotte had nothing left for him. Never mind that he had his poker nights with his buddies, the football games he attended, and his own career.

Henry said, “I wanted more kids, too, but Josh’s mom wasn’t…cut out for motherhood, you could say.” In wonder, he looked away. Their lives mirrored each other’s, from catapulting them into adult responsibilities as teenagers to marriages that had let them down as adults. The air hung heavy between them.

Was Henry considering a second chance at love, Charlotte mused, like she was? Only two years had passed since her divorce, but in some ways the time felt shorter. Henry, genuinely sexy and effortlessly handsome, had her yearning for him, but she was cautious. He’d been single longer, so what had stopped him from dating? Not wanting to get hurt again, or an unwillingness to be vulnerable? Too much to think about on their first date, so she aimed for levity. “Well, clearly, our children are close to perfect, which they obviously get from us.”

Henry gratefully grinned. “I’ll drink to that.” After toasting, with their eyes on each other, they sipped their drinks. “I wonder what Miguel has planned for the last course?” He would stay at La Hacienda, eating dish after dish, if it meant Charlotte was across the table, her knees brushing his under the table every time either of them shifted, the motion driving him to insanity.

“I have a suggestion.” Should she be impulsive? She was aching to be alone with him, but hesitant in case he didn’t feel the same. “I made some brownies this afternoon. We could go back to my house, warm them up? I have a stash of vanilla ice cream I keep on hand, too.” She ran a finger around the salty rim of her margarita glass, peering at Henry from underneath her eyelashes. “How do you feel about brownie sundaes?”

Eager to escape the endless chatter from other diners, he agreed. “I would love that.” Another curl of her hair drifted down to her neck, disappearing into the valley between her breasts. He signaled Javier, who promptly arrived at the table.

“Dad says this is on him.” When Henry attempted to protest the free dinner, he said, “He insists, and you know my dad. Stubborn as the day is long.”