Second Chance Inn

By Frances Stockton

Welcome to the Second Chance Inn! If you're in need of a cold beer, pub grub, rock and roll, a game of poker, or a place to hang your hat, come on in and stay awhile. Be sure to ask about our B&B and Happy Hour Specials!   

In need of a new start, Bostonian accountant Mackenzie Chance arrives in Hawthorn, South Dakota determined to restore the rustic inn she's inherited from her grandfather. She never expects world renowned rocker Ace Blackburn, her unrequited first love, to turn up at the door just as a blizzard begins. Much less the irresistible attraction they share when she welcomes him inside.

While the snow piles up, they bare their souls, soon becoming lovers as they plan to turn the Second Chance Inn into a place where employees, customers, and tourists can renew or reinvent themselves.

But when the storm ends, will they see their plans come to fruition, or lose everything when the past she's left behind returns with a vengeance?  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frances Stockton
• Release date: Feb 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386207511

Frances Stockton

My love for storytelling began when I created my first fictional characters, mischievous, identical twin brothers, in kindergarten. Years later, I started to write, completing my first handwritten manuscript when I was in middle school. I confess, the heroine was a cross between a contemporary Laura Ingalls Wilder and Nancy Drew, but when I wrote ‘the end’ I knew I had more stories to tell.  Of course, life intervened, but whether I was in high school, college, working a variety of jobs on my path to earning a degree in History and Secondary Education, I was always writing and reading romances. Finally, I joined RWA and the New England Chapter, becoming an author with Ellora’s Cave until the publisher closed its doors. Now, I am writing under my own name and loving every minute of it. I truly enjoy hearing from readers. Please let me know what you think at [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter Two

Swiffer in hand, Kenzie crossed the floor, doing her best to ignore the hammering behind her by singing. All the while, she kept tasting Ace’s kiss. A kiss that’d lasted only a second or two had an impact on her far more consequential than she’d known with anyone else.

In the last few minutes, she’d realized that everything she thought she knew about herself was wrong. The crush she’d had on him had been a girlhood fantasy about the bad boy rocker who’d turn out to be the guy in the white hat.

What she’d felt when he let her cry on his shoulder and hold her close to ward off the cold, that was different, real. No matter what happened next, she couldn’t forget that the man with her now was Ace Blackburn, a rock and roll legend with a legion of fans.

The fact that Dead Man’s Hand was on a hiatus hadn’t diminished his popularity or fandom. Primarily, while the band was taking a break, he’d guest starred as lead guitarist and vocalist for several well-known musicians, from rock and country, to pop and blues. And, if the rumors of a reunion tour and new album were true, he’d fly off to cities all over the States and countries around the world to perform.

As he should. She’d little doubt that he’d worked at his career, along with Darek Wylde and their bandmates. Early on, they’d likely experienced growing pains, challenges, the pressure of living up to the success of their first album. They’d exceeded it with the second and third and sold out concert venues. If the reunion happened, would she ever see him again once the snow melted?

With one exception, she wasn’t one to engage in casual sex and she didn’t know whether he could be trusted or if he’d turn out to be an asshole in combat boots. In truth, they were different people from when they first met, been through trials and errors, celebrations and losses...too many losses.

Being as her father had been a self-made business man, first as a day trader, then with the investment firm he’d helped establish, it wasn’t uncommon for men to show interest in her because of her father’s wealth. As a result, her parents had been very protective of her, sending her to a private boarding school synonymous with their values and political leanings. At one time, he’d even entertained running for governor until her mother, a former ballet dancer, had to endure painful, corrective surgeries that’d led to an addiction to opioid painkillers.

It’d become a struggle her mother never overcame, though she’d tried to stay clean for a few weeks or months, depending upon the program. Sadly, Kenzie had always known when her mother was using again because she’d be sent to her Grandpa Gunnar or he’d fly to Boston in order to take her on some adventure. It was her grandpa that’d taught her how to build a fire, pop a tent, tend a campsite, or fend for herself should she ever need it.

In her freshman year at Boston College, her mother overdosed and nearly died. When she’d recovered, her father learned of a prestigious addiction center in New York and flew her to the Hamptons. Tragically, her father died, and her mother’s crippling pain and addiction worsened.

A few months later, she’d disappear and Kenzie had done everything she could to find her mother, including hiring a private investigator and checking in at shelters in NYC, Chicago, Los Angeles, and Miami. 

Every time she’d followed a tip, her heart broke when it turned out to be a mistaken identity.

Finally, she’d received a call from a detective in Hollywood, California. A Jane Doe matching her mother’s description had been found in a back alley, believed to have been sexually assaulted, beaten, and sustaining a traumatic brain injury.

Mackenzie flew to L.A. on a red eye, reuniting with her mom at long last, though neither would be the same again. After bringing her home, Kenzie’s maternal grandmother sued for custody of her mother’s medical care. Rather than fight her family, she sold her home in Back Bay, multiple vehicles that’d once belonged to her dad, and used the money to pay for a long-term rehab facility.

Six months ago, her grandparents realized treatments had become exhaustive and her mother was transferred to a hospice. She’d died two days later. Aside from the day she’d learned of the plane crash that claimed her father’s life, it was the worst of Kenzie’s entire life.

Uncertain what caused her to pause in her sweeping, she turned and looked at Ace. He’d been watching her, but not in a way that made her uneasy. It wasn’t even sexual, even though she couldn’t deny the attraction they shared.

You need anything, sugar? he asked, setting the hammer aside.

No, I’m fine, thank you.

You sure? You were sweeping, but you weren’t here. Thinking about your grandpa?

My mother, actually.

Mind if I ask what happened? If it’s too soon or too personal, I’ll back off.

I believe you would. If it’s okay, I’d love to talk about it with you.

I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.

Maybe we could talk over dinner? It’s not something that I can get into quickly, if that makes sense.

Absolutely. I’m going to trek outside to check the ventilation then to my SUV to get my things. When I’m done, put me to work.

Okay, I will, she said, watching him grab his leather jacket and head to the door.

Appreciating the company, she finished sweeping up the glass and retreated to the kitchen for a new dust cloth. The second one had not been as black as the first, but another sweep or two would be needed before the floor could be steam mopped with a cleanser made for wood. While she was at it, she tore open the steam mop, read the instructions, and set about getting it ready for later.

Returning to the main room with her sweeper, she saw that Ace had come and gone outside a handful of times. It turned out he was quite handy. He’d not only fixed the windows, he’d set up his own laptop, phone, charging station, and portable Wi-Fi. As she’d done with her stuff, he’d set guitar cases for an acoustic and an electric Fender, a small amp, and a couple of duffle bags behind the enormous bar.

Hey, Kenzie, you need anything from your van or trailer? he asked, coming back inside with a small cooler and a hiker’s backpack, which he took to the kitchen. It’s really coming down out there and getting dark. After this, I’ll bar the door and go out the back way when the vents need to be checked.

There are some pillows and blankets in the back of the van and a laundry basket packed with bathroom supplies in the trailer. If it’s no trouble to get them, my keys are on the bar.

Got it, no problem.

How deep is the snow anyway?

I’d say more than a foot and a half, but the wind is driving snow sideways. Visibility is shot. I’ll be surprised if the power stays on during the night.

At least we’ll be safe and warm inside. The generator is fueled and ready to go. If we use it for essentials like the furnace, the fridge, and the mini-kitchen, we’ll be fine for a while. There’s a switch behind the bar that should turn it on if necessary.

That’s the important thing.

Don’t you have anywhere to be, Ace?

Sioux Falls, but not until next week. Darek’s flying in from L.A., and we’re going to work on some new material before meeting up with Luke and Cade Alexander at his ranch in a couple weeks.

Can I ask why? With her sweeper in hand, she went back to the far corner of the room. The fireplace was fine, as she’d noticed a fresh log had been set in it. Ace must’ve added it between treks to his SUV.

Our bassist, Garet, isn’t ready to go back on the road. Until or unless he changes his mind, Cade’s going to work with us on our next album.

Temporarily, you mean?

Well, as a retired rodeo star with a son, he’s still thinking about his options. Especially as the boy’s mother is no longer in the picture.

I’m sorry to hear that, I can only imagine how difficult it is for a young boy. How old is he?

He’s nine, but Cade went through a scare when Kaden was very little.

What do you mean?

Kaden got very sick, spinal meningitis. Doctors worked miracles, but that miracle came with a side effect of severe hearing loss.

Goodness, I can understand Cade wanting to remain close to his son, she said, wondering what would happen between them when the snow inevitably stopped and the roads became passable. She couldn’t expect Ace to give up his chance to tour again, nor would she want him to.

Hey, it’s going to be okay, you know? Ace said, coming to stand before her, snow melting on his shoulders and hair.

What is? she asked, finding herself having to look way, way up to meet his eyes. Every time she did, she felt curiously feminine, soft, yet strong. And, the things that crossed her mind, especially whenever he seemed to challenge her, made her blush in an instant.

The two of us. I can come on strong when I want something and I’m trying not to scare you. Whoa, even wet with snowflakes all over him, he was hotter than hades, tempting her to lick wherever she spied flashes of his tattoos.

What do you want?

Don’t you know?

Maybe, she replied, trying to be casual, and calm.

Mackenzie, don’t you know? he pressed, a subtle message in his tone, in the way he leaned in as if he were testing her response.

Yes, I do.

Then, tell me. What do I want?

Her heart skidded like a jackrabbit. Me?

Ace nodded, once. That was it. Until his hand came to her chin, tilting her head back. Do you know that allowing someone to touch your face is a show of trust?

I do. It’s vulnerable, as are a person’s eyes.

You, sugar, already trust me. That’s a gift in my book. I’m not going to do anything to break your confidence in me, understand?

Yes.

Good. With that, he grabbed her mop, tossed it, and caught her about the waist, bringing her into alignment with his body. Warm me up before I go freeze?

That a command or a request? she challenged.

Please, he said without answering the question.

Kenzie didn’t care. She lifted to her toes and kissed him full on, forgetting everything. Her misgivings, her past, her fears, her future. Right now, he was the present. And, yes, she wanted him, the way he wanted her.

Ace’s left hand, his dominant one, speared through her hair, ruining the remnants of her braid as he held her fast, his tongue ravaging her mouth. Sighing with need, she took it, loving the passion in his kiss and the little tickle she felt from his goatee and mustache.

He didn’t hesitate. He conquered, thrilled, revealing that she may have been kissed before, but not like she was his only thought in the world. And, with each thrust and parry of his tongue, he brushed his erection against the apex of her sex, letting her know without a doubt that he was hard, and huge!

Whoa, the only time she’d seen a man with a cock as big was on a TV screen, in a porn flick. Not true, there’d been that one-time with someone she’d never expected to turn to on a rebound.

Brent, her last boyfriend, had been average, in size and ability in bed. Sex had been pleasant, but not earth shattering or panty-drenching unless she used a vibrator afterwards. That she would think of it now, while she was kissing Ace was far more significant, and