Rekindling Her Heart

By Virginia Barlow

Single mother, Mara Miller works two jobs to provide for her teenage daughter, Angelica Disillusioned and abandoned at eighteen, Mara’s given up on finding a man interested in more than a one-night stand. Until firefighter Bruce Moretti moves in down the hall.
When Mara’s very ex-boyfriend appears demanding custody, she discovers Angie has been left a fortune. Money her ex plans to take any way he can.
Bruce Moretti has his own demons to chase, and getting romantically involved with Mara isn’t on the agenda. But when Angie is in danger, he rushes in and finds his feelings for Mara are an inferno he never wants to end.

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: May 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9781509256730

Virginia Barlow

I enjoy knitting, crocheting, and quilting. I love roses and the smell of gardenias. I have two large dogs who like to keep me company while I write. Beethoven is an Aussie/ Great Pyrenees mix and Mozart is a Mastiff/Collie mix. I occasionally bake when the mood strikes me. Mostly I consider cooking and baking necessary evils. My husband of forty years is my greatest fan/critic and I don't know what I would do without him. My family is my greatest support and I love every minute I spend with them. Life is a journey and I can't wait to see where it leads me next!

Book preview

Rekindling Her Heart

by

Virginia Barlow

Jelly Beans and Spring Things

Copyright Notice

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

Rekindling Her Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2024 by Virginia Barlow

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Kristian Norris

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2024

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-5673-0

Jelly Beans and Spring Things

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

For Becky. Thank you for all you do!

Chapter One

Tulsa, Oklahoma, April 2022

Apartment twenty-one C had a new occupant.

Mara Miller stopped outside her door and fished her key out of her purse, unaware of the importance of this mundane occasion. She glanced with idle curiosity as the first of the new tenant’s furniture appeared at the top of the stairs, hoisted by two men in their early thirties. The enormous brown leather sofa drifted past her and disappeared down the hall.

She glanced at the men as she turned her key in the lock.

The first man had jet-black hair and piercing gray eyes. He topped her five-foot-six frame by a good five inches and gave her a quick once-over as he strolled past. He grinned when they turned to angle the sofa through the open door, and he faced her.

The other man had navy blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a thick, jagged scar on his left cheek. Ruggedly handsome, he sported a close-shaven beard, stood a head taller than his partner, and outweighed him by at least seventy-five pounds.

All of it muscle.

Mara dipped her chin and tried not to stare as the second man lifted the sofa shoulder height and teased his friend about not holding up his end. Bronzed biceps bulged and glistened in the afternoon sun pouring in the small window behind him.

She wondered if one of the men was the new tenant or if they belonged to a local moving company named Studs Moving Stuff.

She sighed. Either way, gone were the days of believing in love, happy ever after, and kind, loving men who protected their own. As a single mother with a fifteen-year-old daughter, she had a lot of baggage, and a long history with heartache.

Best leave the studs to the women without stuff.

Her blonde hair and long legs drew men’s attention like bees to pollen, but when they caught sight of her daughter, Angelica, they ran for the nearest exit.

Both men turned to stare as they strolled past on their way back to the stairs.

She met their gazes with a smile and closed the door with a solid click. If two sweaty men carrying a couch could make her heart speed up, she was in trouble.

Sighing, she dropped her key back in her middle-aged purse. Goodness, how long had it been? She glanced at the calendar and sucked in a breath. April. God. Six months had passed since she slept with a man.

Her brow wrinkled as she shook her head. If you could count Cousin Mary’s friend as a man.

He wore his long, curly hair twisted up in a bun and worked as a barista. He knew more about women’s fashions than she did and wore his emotions on his sleeve.

She’d gotten drunk on her one free night of the year, and after an awkward coupling, Mary’s cousin, what was his name? Oh yes, Caden. He wanted to cuddle, cry, and talk about his previous relationships.

Mara grimaced. What happened to the hell-for-leather motorcycle-driving macho men she longed for? The kind of man who knew what he wanted and took it? Her lips twisted as she thought of the taller man out in the hall and had a quick pep talk with her libido.

Down, girl. Don’t look, don’t want, and for God’s sake, don’t touch. She’d been through heartbreak 101 so many times the class kept a permanent chair for her.

Mara frowned over the way her heart hammered in her chest. Pursing her lips, she resolved to download a new romance book later tonight after Angelica went to bed.

Speaking of Angelica, she sighed and sat her purse on the counter. Mom duty called. Turning, she met her daughter’s uplifted brow.

Her redheaded spawn sat on the sofa with her phone in her hand and a disgusted look on her face.

What? Mara asked, perplexed. She hadn’t said a word, and already the girl had a surly expression. Her gaze wandered the naked expanse of her daughter’s legs and midriff. Angelica wore heavy false lashes, red lipstick, long press-on nails, and a bikini top.

Didn’t I ask you to throw those shorts away? They show too much of your behind. Butt cheeks should be covered by the denim, not hanging beneath the hem. Her daughter’s attire grew skimpier by the day.

Whatever. An exaggerated eye roll followed. "I’m not the one standing in the hall staring at strange men with my tongue hanging out."

Her acidic tone made Mara sigh and shake her head. Teenagers should come with a warning label.

I wasn’t staring…just curious. Someone is moving into twenty-one C, and I wondered who. I admit, I’ll miss Mrs. Henderson. She put her grocery bag beside her purse. But I understand why she wanted to move in with her son. Losing her husband took the life out of her. Irving was her whole world. And staying here with all the memories made it impossible for her to move past the pain of his loss.

Angelica gave another eye roll and bowed over her phone.

She changed the subject. Did you get your homework done? I got an email from your math teacher. You’re four assignments behind. Kicking off her heels, she padded across the floor and kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Angelica shrugged her away. He’s a dick. I did them last week, and he hasn’t graded them yet. She put an earbud in her ear, and music blared a second later.

Mara straightened. Is this last week when you spent the night at Tracy’s, binge-watched your vampire show until three in the morning the other four school nights, and didn’t wake to your alarm? She spoke louder than normal to make sure her voice carried over the heavy rock pounding from her daughter’s phone.

Angelica ignored her and turned the volume up.

Sometimes being a single parent tested her more than both her jobs put together. And a close second to her parents. She removed one earbud from her daughter’s ear and spoke in an even tone. If you don’t make sure your assignments are turned in and caught up by the end of the week, I won’t allow you to go to Tracy’s this weekend. She didn’t like being the sheriff in the household and dreaded making ultimatums to get Angelica’s attention. But the situation couldn’t be helped.

I’m serious, Angie. Her tone held a no-nonsense note, and Mara winced. God, now she sounded like her mother.

Fine! The redhead got off the couch and stomped to her room. The door slammed a second later, and Mara winced, hoping the hinges didn’t break.

With a deep sigh, she strolled to her room to change so she could make dinner. Between the bills and the laundry, sometimes the loneliness made her want to cry. But then she considered what her life would be like without the little fireball she called daughter, and she attacked her work with renewed energy.

Hanging her dress pants and jacket in the corner to go to the cleaners, she donned a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Tying her shoulder-length hair in a ponytail, she slipped on flip-flops and strolled out to check the refrigerator. There were days when she longed for a hot tub to ease her aching muscles and the time to relax. But unless she captured a millionaire, seduced him into marriage, and kept her daughter a secret until after the ceremony, she’d have to make do with her apartment’s shower.

Later, after dinner, she loaded the dishwasher and switched on her computer to see what products the independent quality review company wanted her to evaluate this week. Working as a graphic designer by day and a quality specialist by night, she made ends meet. Barely.

A giggle escaped her when the page popped up on her screen.

Wow. Ice cream sandwiches and personal lubricants were on the menu this week. Wondering who decided which products to review, she shook her head and printed off the information sheet.

Most companies had their own quality control personnel. She worked for an unbiased third-party control company well respected for their reviews who picked random products and compared brands. They printed a report once a month with their findings, including possible improvements.

Her forehead wrinkled when her phone lit up with a text message notification.

Her ex-boyfriend from fifteen years ago and her daughter’s father, Marcus Smith, wanted to see her to discuss Angelica’s future. He insisted he be named guardian and demanded Mara bring her to him.

She narrowed her gaze on the screen and tightened her lips. As soon as the devil enjoyed Arctic temperatures and grass grew purple, she’d consider his proposal. Until then, he could screw off. She tapped the words into the reply box and hit send.

The bastard showed up at work two weeks ago demanding she sign papers giving him legal custody. She refused in a no-nonsense tone of voice and showed him the exit. Angelica had enough problems dealing with her friends, school, and her hormones. She didn’t need a stranger looming over her, too. Even if he did donate ingredients to her creation.

Marcus spewed curse words and threats in a steady stream until Mara closed the elevator doors in his face and returned to her cubicle. His sister, Karen, must have given him her work address and phone number after swearing she wouldn’t. She kept an open relationship with Marcus’s sister for Angelica’s sake, not his. Confused over the deserter’s sudden interest in his daughter after fifteen years of silence, she called