The Good Girl's Second Chance (The Bravos Of Justice Creek 2) Read Online Free Page B

me why?”
    Quinn gave a low chuckle. “We both know you’ll tell me anyway.”
    Manny snorted. “Yes, I will. I’ve spent over a decade makin’ sure you learn what you need to know. No reason to change now.”
    Quinn only looked at him, waiting.
    Manny announced, “Romance is like everything else worth doin’ in life. You gotta follow up, put some energy into it, or it goes nowhere.”
    “I don’t know why you’re telling
me
this.”
    “I’ll give you a hint. Chloe Winchester. Only a fool would pass up his chance with a woman like that.”
    “That’s given that he
had
a chance in the first place.”
    “See there? That’s defeat talkin’. Quinn the Crusher, he spits in the face of defeat.”
    “Quinn the Crusher retired, remember?”
    “From the Octagon, sure. But not from life. Last time I checked, you still got a pulse.”
    “Leave it alone, Manny.”
    Manny did no such thing. “A woman like that, she lets you in her house in the middle of the night, you got a chance. You got more than a chance.”
    “You need to stop sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Somebody’s likely to break it.”
    “Won’t be the first time.” A raspy cackle. “Or the second or the third.” Manny swiped a gnarled, big-knuckled hand back over his buzz cut and then took a pull off the longneck in his other fist. “I will repeat. Momentum is everything.”
    Quinn got up from his deck chair and headed for the French doors. “Night, Manny.”
    “Where you going?”
    “I’m halfway through
A Tale of Two Cities
.” He had it in audio book, and tried to get in a few chapters a night. Little by little, he was working his way through the great books of Western literature.
    Manny wasn’t impressed with Quinn’s highbrow reading. “It’s just dandy, you improving your mind and all, but a man needs more than a book to keep him warm at night.”
    There was no winning an argument with Manny. Quinn knew that from years of experience. “Lock up when you come in.” He stepped inside and shut the doors before the old fighter could get going again.
    * * *
    The following Monday, Chloe was selling new carpet to Agnes Oldfield, a pillar of the Justice Creek community and a longtime friend of her mother’s, when who should walk in the door but Manny Aldovino? Quinn’s little girl was with him, looking like a pint-size princess in an ankle-length dress with a hot pink top, a wide white sash at the waist and a gathered cotton skirt decorated with rickrack in a rainbow of bright colors.
    Chloe ignored the fluttering sensation beneath her breastbone that came with being reminded of Quinn, and greeted the newcomers with a cheery “Hi, Manny. Annabelle. Have a look around. I’ll be right with you. Crayons and paper in the hutch by the window treatment display, in case Annabelle would like to color. And there’s coffee, too.” She gestured at the table not far from the door.
    “Sounds good,” said Manny. He winked at Agnes. “How you doin’ there, Agnes?”
    “Mr. Aldovino.” Agnes gave Manny an icy, dismissive nod. She’d always been a terrible snob and she looked down on anyone she didn’t consider of her social standing. Also, Quinn’s father’s first wife, Sondra, had been Agnes’s beloved niece. Agnes thoroughly disapproved of Quinn’s mother, Willow, and of all of Willow’s children. Now Agnes pointedly turned her back on Manny and said to Chloe, “Please continue, dear.”
    Agnes’s attitude could use adjusting. But Chloe reminded herself that she needed the business and she couldn’t afford to offend a customer. She sent Manny an apologetic smile and waited on the old woman, who wanted new carpet for three rooms. She’d already settled on a quality plush in a pretty dove gray. Chloe accepted her deposit and gave her the number to call to arrange a time to have the spaces measured.
    In her eighties, Agnes always dressed as though she’d been invited to tea with the Queen of England. She adjusted