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  “Since when are you an expert on my “Since when are you an expert on my personal life?” personal life?”

  “Touché.” David took Mia’s hand, slowly rubbed her palm with his thumb.

  She tensed, but in a good way. This was David touching her, his face so close that she could see the light flecks of amber in his brown eyes. Funny, she’d always thought they were much darker, more serious.

  She straightened, tried to ignore the disturbing sensations his thumb caused. “In fact, Mr. Pearson, you really don’t know anything about me, do you?”

  His gaze touched her mouth, lingered, and then leisurely moved up to her eyes. “Don’t I?”

  He wrapped his fingers around her hand and tugged her closer. “My intentions must be fairly obvious now,” he said in a low voice. Then he put his mouth on hers, his lips soft and supple.

  David knew how to kiss; he was even better than she’d imagined. When he retreated, lingering long enough to touch his lips to hers one last time, she nearly whimpered in protest.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for three years…”

  Dear Reader,

  Second Time Lucky is the first book in my Spring Break series. What a fun series this has been for me to write. The stories take place in Hawaii, where I was born, raised. I spent my childhood years on the windward side of Oahu—Kailua to be exact—and then moved to Maui shortly after I graduated from the University of Hawaii.

  A few years later, I married a mainlander who transferred often with his job, and I moved away from the islands. Although I return often to visit family, I don’t get around Oahu much anymore. So when I sat down to write Mia and David’s story, I found myself revisiting places I hadn’t been in years. I had to imagine myself as a tourist, just like my hero and heroine, seeing the island’s natural beauty as if it were the first time. Writing these stories has been like a blast from the past, my own little Spring Break. And I hope these books inspire you to think about experiencing a little Hawaiian magic yourself.

  Happy reading!

  Debbi Rawlins

  Debbi Rawlins

  SECOND TIME LUCKY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Debbi Rawlins lives in central Utah, out in the country, surrounded by woods and deer and wild turkeys. It’s quite a change for a city girl, who didn’t even know where the state of Utah was until four years ago. Of course, unfamiliarity has never stopped her. Between her junior and senior years of college she spontaneously left her home in Hawaii and bummed around Europe for five weeks by herself. And much to her parents’ delight, returned home with only a quarter in her wallet.

  Books by Debbi Rawlins

  HARLEQUIN BLAZE

  13—IN HIS WILDEST DREAMS

  36—EDUCATING GINA

  60—HANDS ON

  112—ANYTHING GOES…

  143—HE’S ALL THAT*

  159—GOOD TO BE BAD

  183—A GLIMPSE OF FIRE

  220—HOT SPOT**

  250—THE HONEYMOON THAT WASN’T

  312—SLOW HAND LUKE

  351—IF HE ONLY KNEW…*

  368—WHAT SHE REALLY WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS†

  417—ALL OR NOTHING

  455—ONCE AN OUTLAW††

  467—ONCE A REBEL††

  491—TEXAS HEAT

  509—TEXAS BLAZE

  528—LONE STAR LOVER††

  This is for all the working moms who need a spring break more than anyone.

  Women with dogs and cats totally count.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Prologue

  SHE WASN’T THERE. Disappointed, Mia Butterfield shaded her eyes against the bright sun and scanned the crowded park, her gaze quickly skipping over the noontime joggers and past the rows of nannies, whose concentration was split between children and gossip. With it being unseasonably warm for January, she’d felt certain Annabelle would be here walking her dog, or rather being walked by the oversize part St. Bernard and part Rottweiler she’d affectionately named Mr. Muffin.

  Barely five feet tall and close to eighty, Mia’s new friend should have had a nice little Yorkie or toy poodle as a companion, but no, not Annabelle. She preferred the big moose of a mutt that she’d found at the local shelter. Mia had only met Annabelle Albright six weeks ago when Mr. Muffin had spied a rabbit and pulled away from the older woman. Mia had been walking back from the courthouse to her office when she encountered the runaway dog. He’d literally run into her, costing her a pair of forty-dollar pantyhose and the three-inch heel of her new Jimmy Choos.

  The upside was that Mia had made a new friend that day. A much-needed friend. Her two best buds lived thousands of miles away, but the truth was, Annabelle served a need neither of Mia’s college friends could. The woman had an unbiased ear. She listened, her gaze clear, her smile knowing, her rare questions about clarity, not judgment. Sometimes the silence frustrated Mia. Here she was twenty-eight and all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do. She hated that streak of vulnerability.

  From the time she was a kid she’d always been a take-charge person, fully in control, absolutely clear on what she wanted. Her younger brother and sister had come to her for advice, as had her friends. When she’d graduated from law school with honors, no one had been surprised. Not even when she’d been recruited by one of the most prestigious law firms in Manhattan. She hadn’t bothered explaining to her family what an incredible opportunity that was for a young lawyer.

  In retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn’t made a big deal of it because then for sure they wouldn’t understand why she wanted to quit. All of it. Just walk away. Start fresh. No, they wouldn’t get it. She barely did herself.

  The mere thought of what she wanted to do twisted her stomach into knots. She stared down at the white paper bag in her hand and sighed. She didn’t care about the apples and yogurt she’d bought at the corner bodega. The main reason she’d taken a lunch break was in the hope of seeing Annabelle.

  “Mia!”

  At the sound of the familiar voice, she turned around to see Annabelle being dragged toward her by the big dog. Prepared for an onslaught of large paws and sloppy kisses, Mia knew better than to crouch.

  “Hey, Mr. Muffin.” She held out a firm hand for him to sniff. His attention immediately switched to the paper bag. “Seriously, I don’t think you’d be that interested.”

  “If it’s food, he’s interested,” Annabelle said with a throaty laugh, her remarkably unlined face artfully made up. “Come on, Mr. Muffin, don’t be a mooch.” She tugged on the leash to get his attention, and with her other hand reached into the pocket of a smartly tailored burgundy jacket that had once been elegantly in style. “Here you go, you big lug.” She produced a plastic bag of treats and made him sit before passing him a MilkBone.

  “I was hoping I’d see you here today.” Mia straightened, anxious to take advantage of the dog’s temporary distraction.

  “It’s marvelous weather. Can you believe it’s January?”

  “I know. I can’t afford the break but I couldn’t help myself.”

  Annabelle waved a gloved hand. “You work too hard as it is.” She saw that the dog had finished and quickly gave him another MilkBone. “He shouldn’t have so many treats,” she said absently, looking over her shoulder. “Where is that young man?”

 
“Young man?”

  “Oh, there he is. Good.” Annabelle signaled to a blond teenage boy on a skateboard near the fork in the sidewalk.

  He zoomed toward them, skillfully avoiding a strolling couple before pulling to a stop in front of Annabelle. “Hey, Mrs. Albright. I’m not late, am I?”

  “Right on time.” She handed him the leash. “A half an hour should tire him out.” She crouched to nuzzle the dog’s bulky neck, her fluid movement that of a much younger woman, a tribute to her early Broadway days. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Muffin? You be a good boy, you hear?”

  With hopeful eyes, the dog watched her pass the treats to the teenager, and then happily trotted off alongside the boy. Annabelle continued to watch the pair disappear while Mia found a bench partially shaded by a bare but huge old elm.

  “Who’s the boy?” Mia asked, as she brushed off the bench seat.

  “Kevin, my neighbor’s son.” Annabelle joined her. “But you’ll walk Mr. Muffin while I’m away on my trip?”

  “What trip? You didn’t tell me you were going anywhere.”

  “Oh, it’s this cruise.” Annabelle waved a dismissive hand, looking less than thrilled. “I’d promised a friend a few months back.”

  “Good for you.” Mia rubbed her friend’s arm. “It’ll be great to get out of the city. Where are you going?”

  “I don’t actually know. Hamilton—” She cleared her throat. “—my friend, is in charge of all that.”

  Mia hid a smile. So, Annabelle had a gentleman friend who wanted to sweep her away. Which was made all the sweeter since Mia doubted the woman could afford a vacation of any sort otherwise.

  Mia opened her bag and gave Annabelle an apple.

  “Thank you, dear.” The woman smiled. “You never forget that Granny Smith is my favorite. But I already ate my lunch.”

  Mia shrugged. “Save it for later. I bought yogurt, too.”

  Annabelle searched Mia’s face, making Mia avert her gaze in case her intentions were too obvious. She guessed the woman was struggling financially, but was too proud to accept charity. Her clothes and shoes were well made and had probably cost a few bucks new, but most of her wardrobe should have been donated years ago. Still, she was always impeccably groomed, her white hair and makeup tended with great care, even her short buffed fingernails were nicely maintained. She clearly took pride in her appearance and even greater pride in remaining self-sufficient. Mia had made the mistake of offering to help buy food and hiring a dog walker for Mr. Muffin, and was abruptly shot down.

  “So, tell me what’s on your mind,” Annabelle said with her usual forthrightness.

  Mia hesitated. “I hate my job.” There, she’d said it out loud. “I do,” she insisted when Annabelle twisted around to narrow her faded blue eyes on Mia.

  “What brought this on?”

  “The hours are long. I have no social life.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s sort of a combination of things.”

  Annabelle’s expression softened. “Are you thinking about changing firms?”

  A sudden chill breeze made Mia pull the lapels of her suit jacket tighter. “I don’t know that I want to practice law anymore,” she said softly.

  Annabelle settled back on the bench and stared off toward the children riding the swings. “That’s a big decision.” Her voice was calm, reasonable, but Mia had seen the alarm flash in her eyes.

  She thought Mia was being impulsive. Crazy, really. Who went through three grueling years of law school, was lucky enough to work at a firm like Pearson and Stern, and then walked away from it all? Certainly not a sane person. Her parents were going to have the same reaction. God, she dreaded telling them. This was good practice.

  “You’re right. It’s a huge decision. Not one I’m taking lightly.”

  “I should hope not.” Annabelle frowned thoughtfully. “What would you do?”

  “You’ve heard me mention my friends Lindsey Shaw and Shelby Cain. In college we’d talked about starting a concierge and rental business. Our sorority participated in a fundraiser where we all rented ourselves out for a day to run errands, cook, babysit, host a dinner—whatever the client needed for a specific occasion.” She shrugged. “Not only did we have a blast, but we also could see the potential for some sort of full-service business in Manhattan.”

  “Sounds rather dangerous.”

  Mia smiled. “We’d make sure our clients are properly vetted. Besides, I figure the larger part of our business will be about renting designer purses and bridal gowns, that sort of thing. If kids from the local colleges want to sign up, we’d hire them for the concierge side. Our motto will be ‘You can rent anything at Anything Goes.’ Hey, maybe you’ll want to rent out Mr. Muffin.”

  Annabelle smiled, but her expression remained troubled. “Your friends, they’re willing to quit their jobs and move here?”

  Mia sighed. That was going to be tricky. “I haven’t discussed any of this with them yet.”

  “Oh…” Annabelle seemed relieved. “So you truly haven’t made up your mind yet.”

  The reaction shouldn’t have bothered her, but Mia couldn’t ignore the sense of betrayal she felt. For some reason, she’d thought Annabelle might understand. Here was a woman who’d shunned convention, turned her back on marriage and children in pursuit of her career when women simply didn’t dream of forging their own path.

  “No,” she lied. “I haven’t made up my mind.”

  “Good. This is a very big decision. You mustn’t be hasty and do anything while I’m gone.” Annabelle reached over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t walk away because of David.”

  Mia jerked back and blinked. “David? Why would you—He has nothing to do with this. I don’t understand why you’d bring him up.”

  Contradicting Annabelle’s gentle smile, her eyes gleamed shrewdly. “Of course. Forgive a doddering old lady.”

  “David’s my boss, nothing more.”

  The woman nodded.

  “The only reason you ever heard about him was because we worked a few cases together.” She paused, frustrated that she was feeling defensive. So, she talked about work sometimes. It was only natural that his name had come up. It wasn’t as if the man noticed her. She was just one among the many, a useful tool, a worker bee. He hadn’t even so much as shared a pizza with her when they’d been stuck late at the office. As if there could ever be something between her and David. The idea alone was laughable.

  Annabelle lifted her face to the sun, her eyes closed, an annoying smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  1

  MIA WAITED UNTIL the waiter had poured the champagne into her friends’ glasses before she raised her flute. “To us,” she said, grinning at Lindsey and Shelby. “We did it.”

  “Yes, we did,” Lindsey agreed, her mouth twisting wryly and her expression not looking quite as enthusiastic as Mia’s or Shelby’s. “We now owe more money than any three twenty-eight-year-old women should owe in their lifetimes.”

  Shelby laughed and downed her champagne.

  “You’re such a pessimist.” Shaking her head, Mia elbowed her. “If we didn’t think we could make a go of this, none of us would’ve signed on the dotted line, much less have quit our jobs.”

  “You did?” Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You’ve turned in your resignation already?”

  “It’s typed up and will be on my boss’s desk tomorrow morning.” Mia swallowed around the lump in her throat, the one that seemed to swell every time she thought about pulling out all of her savings and having no income until their new venture turned a profit. She glanced at Shelby. “What about you?”

  “I was just waiting to sign the loan documents. I’ll turn in mine on Monday as soon as I get back to Houston.” Shelby snatched the pricey bottle of Cristal out of the ice bucket and refilled her glass. “We might as well enjoy this. After tonight, it’s gonna be the cheap stuff for us until we make some dough.”

  Lindsey made a small whimpering sound, her blue eyes cloudi
ng. “Don’t remind me.”

  Mia set down her flute, prepared to give the pep talk she’d been rehearsing for the past few weeks. Once she’d made up her mind that she wanted to leave her firm and take a chance on starting the new business, she’d leaned hard on Lindsey and Shelby, so to some degree she felt responsible for the other two taking the plunge with her. Plus she already lived in Manhattan. Her friends had to make the move, but they missed one another, and wanted to live in New York together.

  “Oh, it won’t be that bad,” Shelby said, urging her to take another sip. “We’ll eat and drink well when we go out on dates.”

  Mia cleared her throat. “About that…”

  Both women looked expectantly at her.

  “Unlike the glory days of college, Manhattan isn’t exactly teeming with eligible men.”

  “Well, neither is Chicago.” Lindsey sighed. “I haven’t had a real date in seven months.” She lifted her brows accusingly at Shelby, who never seemed to lack company of the male persuasion. “Maybe we should’ve moved to Houston, Mia. If things got too bad, at least we could count on leftovers.”

  Shelby waved dismissively. “Oh, sweetie, you’re delusional if you think I’ve had any better luck there.”

  Lindsey snorted. “Right.”

  Mia eyed her friend. “Really, Shelby?”

  “Really,” she answered defensively, and then shrugged. “I can’t remember the last time I went out a second or third time with the same guy and those are the dates that count.” She sniffed. “And no, it’s not because I’m too picky.”

  “You have every reason to be damn picky. We all do,” Mia said and meant it, even though she was in the middle of a particularly long dry spell. It was mainly her fault. All those ungodly hours spent in the office hadn’t helped. And if she were totally honest with herself, she’d spent too much time hoping David would finally man up, ask her out, share one lousy dinner with her. Despite what she’d told Annabelle, despite what she’d told herself, she’d honestly thought he’d been attracted to her, at least in the beginning. Sadly, she’d clearly been fooling herself. No use thinking about him now.