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Take a Chance on Me: A Single Dad Small Town Romance (All I Want Book 6) Read online




  Take a Chance on Me

  Copyright © 2019 by Lea Meyer

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is greatly appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are 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.

  Editing by Evident Ink

  Proofreading by Virginia Carey

  Cover Design by Laun Studio

  Photography by Wander Aguiar

  Formatting by Champagne Book Design

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Lea Coll

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Books by Lea Coll

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Choose Me

  All I Want Series

  Choose Me

  Be with Me

  Burn for Me

  Trust in Me

  Stay with Me

  Take a Chance on Me

  Annapolis Harbor Series

  Only with You

  Boudreaux Universe Novel

  Easy Moves

  Download a free novella, Swept Away, when you sign up for her newsletter.

  To learn more about her books, please visit her website.

  To my children, I hope you see that with hard work, dreams do come true.

  Sadie

  “I’m Rylan’s father, Tanner Green.” A man’s large hand engulfed mine with a firm grip.

  My eyes were drawn to the scruff lining his jaw, and to his blue eyes brought out by the soft blue-checked flannel shirt he wore rolled up, revealing strong forearms with a light dusting of hair. His shirt hung open over a gray Henley he paired with dark wash jeans. His clothes did nothing to hide his defined chest, straining biceps, and muscular thighs. Everything about this man was large and sexy. I swallowed, trying to focus on his words and not the fact that I was drawn to this man physically. Rylan … right. The latest addition to the six-thirty p.m. ballet class—the sweet blonde who wore black instead of a pink leotard and no tutu. “Sadie Cole. Nice to meet you, Mr. Green.”

  It wasn’t my imagination that he stiffened when I’d said my name. For the first time in a long time, I was attracted to someone, but it was always the same—my reputation in this town preceded me. He knew how I was fired from my last job, about that incident in high school, or that our family was trouble in general.

  Tanner squatted down to be level with Rylan. “Can you play with Zoe for a minute so I can talk to your teacher?”

  My heart squeezed at the sweet way he’d gone to his daughter’s level to speak to her at the same time my stomach dropped. Here it is. He was going to tell me how he couldn’t trust me around his daughter or some other nonsense. No one had said that to my face, but I’d heard comments in the waiting room—what was Kristen thinking, allowing Sadie to work with little kids? As if what happened when I was younger meant I was a bad influence.

  “Okay, Daddy.” Rylan smiled before running over to Zoe.

  Tanner rose to his full height. “Sorry, I don’t want to keep you.”

  When his warm blue eyes settled on me, I burned hot, wondering if he’d ask for a refund or to transfer Rylan to another class—one where I wasn’t the teacher.

  “It’s fine.” But I was hungry and wanted to go home, even though home wasn’t much of a sanctuary for me.

  “Rylan’s mother signed her up for these classes.” He paused, and I knew there was a bigger issue when his forehead wrinkled. “But Rylan doesn’t like them.”

  “She seemed okay in class.” I racked my brain to determine if I’d missed something. I tried hard to engage the girls, and I was pretty good at figuring out which ones were shy, reluctant, outgoing, or didn’t want to be there.

  “On the way here, she complained that she didn’t want to come.” He looked around, presumably to make sure no one was listening and lowered his voice. “She hates princesses and those fluffy skirt things the other girls wear.”

  I smiled at this large masculine man trying to describe pink tulle. “You mean, tutus?”

  Tanner nodded. “Her mother, Bree, wants her to be a dancer because she was.”

  That wasn’t uncommon. Lots of moms signed their daughters up for dance because they’d enjoyed it as a child. “This isn’t a princess class, but there’s usually an element of princesses in all of the beginner classes. Most girls enjoy it.”

  I chewed my lip, looking at Rylan in her black leotard and thought about how she’d closed her eyes when the music started and moved her body to the beat. “Maybe she’d be happier in the hip-hop class? She seemed to enjoy music and dancing to the beat.”

  His lips curled up. “I’d be willing to try it out.”

  My heart fluttered from the combination of his smile and his desire to ensure his daughter was happy. “Let me check the schedule.” I moved over to the front counter and pulled up the computer calendar Kristen kept, glad to discover there was one spot available. “The only opening is on Tuesdays.”

  “Does someone else teach it?”

  I stiffened. “I’m the only hip-hop teacher.”

  Tanner studied me carefully as if he was uncertain about something. He glanced over at Rylan, who was still playing with Zoe. “Okay.”

  “You said her mother signed her up. Will she be upset if you switch from ballet to hip-hop?” What I really wanted to ask was, why don’t you want me to teach your daughter?

  A shadow passed over his face, and he sighed. “Probably, but I’ll deal with it when it happens.”

  I made a mental note to find out if Kristen knew about their situation. Were they together? A part of me wanted to know if he was single, but I tried to convince myself it was only because I needed to know if there would be an issue with Rylan changing classes. “Okay.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was eight p.m. If I left now, I could be in comfy pajamas and eating ice cream by eight-thirty if my mother was passed out by the time I arrived home.

  “Sorry to keep you late.”

  He’d not
iced me watching the clock. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t concerned about his daughter and her happiness in class. I needed this job. “It’s not a big deal. I want Rylan to be happy.”

  His eyes studied me for so long I felt heat creeping up my neck.

  I worked as an attorney at the public defender’s office during the day, but the single best part of my day was teaching these little girls. It was freeing to see the girls’ view on life—their energy. They weren’t hardened or jaded by their families yet. They hadn’t had an opportunity to make bad decisions and screw things up. They were innocent.

  “You like teaching?” His voice was low and assessing as if he already knew the answer but was just confirming something.

  Most of the families were gone now, and only Zoe and Rylan giggled and chased each other around the room. Zoe’s mom’s eyes were on her phone.

  “I do.” I loved it.

  “That’s great that you do what you love.”

  Zoe’s mom tucked her phone in her back pocket, and her eyes lifted to us. I lowered my gaze and pretended to check something on the computer so she wouldn’t think I was flirting. She was one of the moms who’d talked about me in the waiting room. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Zoe’s mom touch Tanner’s shoulder. “I’ve gotta get going. I have to pick up Garrett from karate.”

  “Of course. Thanks for keeping an eye on Rylan while I talked to Sadie.”

  Zoe’s mom didn’t acknowledge me or say goodbye. She held out her hand for Zoe. “Time to go, sweetie. Say goodbye to your friend.”

  The girls hugged and Zoe took her mother’s hand to walk out.

  “Rylan.” Tanner squatted in front of his daughter again and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Would you like to take the hip-hop class instead of this one?”

  Her eyes grew big, and she looked up at me. “Will Miss Sadie be my teacher?”

  My heart filled with pride that Rylan wanted me to be her teacher, but it dissipated when Tanner’s smile slid off his face.

  “She will be.” Tanner’s voice was tight.

  A sharp pain stabbed my chest. I should be used to this reaction, but something about him felt different. When I initially saw him—I was drawn to this man who seemed like an amazing father. Would I ever have someone like him interested in me? Someone who could see past the rumors and speculation and see me?

  Rylan clapped her hands. “Yay!”

  “Zoe won’t be in the class with you.” He stood.

  “That’s okay. I don’t care. Can we go now, Daddy? I’m starving.”

  It was funny how easily kids went from one thing to another. They didn’t get stuck on things like adults did. The way I’d been stuck in high school. Whether it was the shame of what happened or the stigma—this town never let me forget it.

  “I don’t know how that’s possible. You ate goldfish, a granola bar, and a PB & J sandwich on the way over here.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m starving. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the studio.

  I laughed at their banter.

  “See you, Tuesday,” Tanner called over his shoulder as he followed Rylan out the door.

  It was sweet that Tanner wanted to make Rylan happy. I didn’t even know who my birth father was. There had been a time when I’d thought I had a father-figure in my life—I suppressed a shiver at the thought. And then everything had blown up in my face. It was the worst mistake I’d ever made, and I was still paying for it.

  After straightening the studio, I turned off the lights, locked up, and headed to my car, a tiny piece of junk I was embarrassed to drive. The driver’s side door wouldn’t open, so I had to crawl through the passenger side.

  Before Tanner heard my name, I thought he might have been attracted to me, but if he didn’t know who I was—he would know soon enough. I was Sadie Cole—a troublemaker from a bad family, and no amount of higher education or any professional job would change my past. It was stupid, but I wished I could start over somewhere else and meet someone like Tanner without my mistakes hanging over me. What would that be like?

  I was so busy between work and taking care of—no, managing—my mother, it left no time for anything else. And it wasn’t just that. Most people who’d grown up here thought they knew me and what kind of person I was. But they didn’t. I didn’t even know myself anymore.

  I drove to my childhood home on the edge of town, an older run-down farmhouse. I parked the car in the gravel drive as dread filled my body and the hope of a quiet evening dissipated. Would my mom be on the couch watching TV, ready to yell at me for something, or would she be passed out?

  I opened the door as quietly as I could in case she was asleep. “Sadie, ‘bout time you came home. Were you out partying again?”

  I ground my teeth together, my shoulders tightening until an ache formed between my shoulder blades. I quickly closed the door behind me, no longer caring if it was loud. I didn’t want the neighbors to hear her tirade. “No, I was working.”

  I kept my purse draped across my body instead of resting it on the counter. I’d learned the hard way that my mom would steal anything from anyone.

  “You expect me to believe you’ve been working all day?” She lifted herself from the couch slightly so she could see my face over the back.

  Glancing at the clock over the stove, I noted it was now eight-forty p.m. I had been up and out the door at seven a.m. for court. “I have two jobs, remember?”

  Two jobs were necessary to pay for the house she’d re-mortgaged a few years ago. To pay for the credit cards she’d taken out in my name and maxed out. Between my student loans and the bills she’d created, I didn’t know how I’d ever get out of this hole. Even if I walked away from her, the bills and responsibilities would follow me.

  “You’re probably fucking some guy.”

  I barely suppressed my eye roll. This was something that had bothered me in high school, but I was an adult now and her assumption was so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. I hadn’t dated anyone since law school. No one would date me in high school—anyone who expressed interest thought I was easy. When they discovered I wasn’t, they moved on.

  “Do you need anything before I get ready for bed?” I held my breath for her answer. This question could prompt another tirade or she’d pretend she hadn’t heard me and resume watching TV. I hoped for the latter. My feet ached, I was exhausted, and my bed was calling to me even though I had to prep another trial for the morning.

  When she slumped back onto the couch without another word, I slowly made my way upstairs to my room. Mom’s bedroom was on the first floor, which meant the entire second floor was my sanctuary. She rarely came up here anymore, even to look through my things for money. She was drinking more and was too unsteady on her feet to manage the stairs. This floor had three bedrooms, and mine was the largest with a large bay window overlooking the street.

  I placed my purse on my nightstand, where a picture of me at sixteen with my grandparents rested. Mom’s parents washed their hands of her—and unfortunately, me—years ago. I didn’t have any other family, friends, or even acquaintances. What I’d learned at the Al-Anon meetings, meant for friends and family members of alcoholics, was that I couldn’t help my mother if she didn’t believe she had a problem. And she most certainly didn’t believe she had a problem. I’d always felt this heavy weight of responsibility for her because she was my only family and my earliest memories are of her telling me—I’m all you have. She was right.

  Lately, my boss, Kristen, almost felt like a friend, but I couldn’t forget she was my employer. She’d been understanding so far, but if students left the studio because of me—she’d have no choice but to let me go.

  Kristen never mentioned my history, but I saw the questions in her eyes. I never offered information because the one time I had confided about that night to a friend in college—I found out later she’d told everyone in my dorm. The whispers started up and it was like high school all over again—the c
rushing weight on my chest and the difficulty breathing. I kept my head down until I got to law school, where I reinvented myself and never made the mistake of telling anyone about my past.

  During law school, Mom met a nice guy and temporarily curbed her drinking. I was able to focus on school and my studies; I passed the bar and got a job in Baltimore. I could date. I had friends. I was free of the rumors, the whispers. It was all so normal because no one knew my history. I drew in a shaky breath. A year after law school, Mom’s boyfriend left her when she started drinking again. I didn’t blame him. She was a lot to take when she was drinking. She was a different person.

  And shortly after Mom’s boyfriend left, she had begged me to come home. So I did.

  Now I took a quick shower and lay down on my bed. My stomach churned. I was the only one stopping my mom from living on the streets. Her actions—taking out credit cards in my name and maxing them out before I discovered it, re-mortgaging the house when I was in law school—had lasting implications. Sometimes I felt like I was walking uphill through sludge—I’d never move on.

  As long as my mother needed me, I’d be stuck in this small town.

  Tanner

  I tucked Rylan into bed after reading six books. Three was the limit, but I didn’t want to deny her anything. She was supposed to live with her mother, Bree, half of the time. But Rylan only spent time with Bree when she was sober and not dealing with emergencies.

  Three weeks ago, when Bree promised to pick Rylan up for a long weekend, she canceled at the last minute, which meant I had to ask my parents to pick her up from school and watch her because I was working, and the worst part was—I had to deal with Rylan’s disappointment. I wished the court would grant me full custody, so the chaos of Bree’s life couldn’t touch her. I’d keep her safe, warm, and protected.

  Bree went on anti-anxiety pills immediately after Rylan was born, citing postpartum depression. Afterward, her behavior was so erratic I worried she’d mixed her Xanax with alcohol. My lawyer said there wasn’t much I could do until I had proof she was abusing pills or alcohol.