Second Wind Read online

  Second Wind

  Copyright © 2018 Aimee Nicole Walker

  [email protected]

  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 the actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover photograph © Wander Aguiar—www.wanderaguiar.com

  Cover art © Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art—www.simplydefinedart.com

  Editing provided by Miranda Vescio of V8 Editing and Proofreading - https://www.facebook.com/V8Editing/

  Proofreading provided by Judy Zweifel of Judy’s Proofreading—www.judysproofreading.com

  Interior Design and Formatting provided by Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Formats—www.champagnebookdesign.com

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original publisher only.

  This book contains sexually explicit material and is only intended for adult readers.

  Copyright and Trademark Acknowledgments

  The author acknowledges the copyrights and trademarked status and trademark owners of the trademarks and copyrights mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Second Wind Playlist

  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

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Aimee Nicole Walker

  Acknowledgments

  About Aimee Nicole Walker

  To Gary Lacasse,

  I’ve waited for the right characters to come along to tell a story worthy of a dedication to you. Thank you for reminding me that love doesn’t always come easy, early, or without risk. Gary, you work hard to make the world a better place, and I’m proud to call you my friend.

  You’re My Best Friend—Queen

  Fly Like An Eagle—The Steve Miller Band

  Right Here Waiting—Richard Marx

  Can’t Fight This Feeling—REO Speedwagon

  The First Time—U2

  End of the Road—Boyz II Men

  Who Let In The Rain—Cyndi Lauper

  I Want To Break Free—Queen

  Better Things—The Kinks

  The House That Built Me—Miranda Lambert

  Begin Again—Taylor Swift

  Second Wind—Maren Morris

  In Your Eyes—Peter Gabriel

  Stay A Little Longer—Brothers Osborne

  Pillowtalk - Zayne

  So You’re Saying—Joe Nichols

  No Place That Far—Sara Evans

  Sweetest Goodbye—Maroon 5

  Lights Down Low—Max

  Whatever It Takes—Lifehouse

  Believer—Imagine Dragons

  Time After Time—Cyndi Lauper

  A Thousand Years—The Piano Guys

  Yours—Russell Dickerson

  With Arms Wide Open—Creed

  “I can’t believe you think a flea market is a suitable place to buy your niece a birthday present,” my boyfriend, Travis, said snootily. At least he said it low enough that only I heard him. I tried hard not to roll my eyes for fear that the vendors would think I was maligning their goods.

  “Some of us come from humble beginnings, Trav. Not everyone needs an iPad or the next best gadget to feel loved.”

  “I didn’t get her an iPad,” he said defensively. “It’s a middle-of-the-road tablet for her to read on. I think it’s good to encourage her love of books. I don’t think Jules will be upset with me this time.” According to my sister, Travis tried to buy Racheal’s affection rather than pay attention to her. It was the easy way out, and Jules didn’t like it.

  I turned and looked into the pair of blue eyes that had pulled me out of months-long despair when we first met. Ten years ago, I thought Travis was the answer to my lonely heart’s prayers, but somewhere along the way, we seemed to have drifted apart. It felt like both of us were just going through the motions in our relationship rather than take a chance on finding someone new.

  “And I agree with you, but I saw the Kindle you bought her, and it’s not middle of the road. It’s that new waterproof version, and I think it’s a bit fancy for a seven-year-old girl. Besides…” My words faded off when my eyes locked on the perfect gift. “Oh my God! There it is!” I bounced on the balls of my feet and ran over to the faded pink bike with a banana seat and a dingy white basket attached to the handlebars. “It’s just like the one that Jules had when she was a little girl.”

  “You can’t be serious, Rush.” Travis didn’t bother hiding his derision. I glanced up at the seller and caught the narrow-eyed look she gave him.

  “It’s a classic,” the woman said in a voice that stated Travis must be daft.

  “How much?” I asked her. I didn’t care what Travis thought, I knew Racheal would love it.

  “One hundred,” she told me. “It’s in mint condition.”

  “Dollars?” Travis sputtered. “You want one hundred dollars for that? Mint condition? You can’t tell what color the paint used to be and don’t get me started on that filthy basket? What are those woven into the plastic? Flowers?”

  I put my hands on my hips and turned to face him. I gave him a look that said, “You better shut the hell up if you want me to give you head in the near future.”

  Travis threw up his hands and took a few steps back. “I’m not going to say another word. It wouldn’t do any good, so I’m not going to waste my time or energy.”

  I handed over five crisp twenty-dollar bills then wheeled my prize to my charcoal-gray Volvo XC60 with my head held high. My SUV was another thing Travis disapproved of, but I needed the room to haul camera equipment, and sometimes people, to locations for shoots. I refused to budge on buying a bigger vehicle, but I did let him sway me toward German engineering. I passionately loved the luxurious feel that my Diva afforded me while providing the much-needed room and all-wheel drive during Chicago’s harsh winters.

  “I guess I can understand the nostalgic appeal, but can I at least make a suggestion?” Travis asked as I pushed the button on my fob to open the hatchback.

  “I’m listening,” I told him.

  “I know a guy who restores a lot of things. Maybe he can jazz the bike up a bit for Racheal.”

  “You mean completely overhaul it?” I asked suspiciously.

  “No,” Travis replied. “I’m talking about shining up the paint, replacing the torn leather seat, and maybe trying to clean up that basket.” I busied myself putting the bike in my SUV so Travis didn’t see how tickled I was over his distaste for the basket. “He can also make sure the mechanics are in working order. That rear tire looks flat.”

  “It is flat,” I confirmed. I couldn’t fault Travis’s practical logic. What good was it to buy Rach something she couldn’t ride? “I only have a few weeks. You think he can work me in?” I never bothered to ask how Travis knew such a diverse group of friends. Yes, Chicago was a diverse city, but as an investment banker, I expected him to rub elbows wi
th others like him—the one percent crowd.

  “All we can do is ask,” he replied practically, looping his arm around my shoulders and kissing my temple.

  It must’ve been my lucky week because I met with Jack St. James a few days later and found out that he was able to work me into his schedule. “I haven’t seen one of these in ten years,” he said excitedly. “Where’d you find this gem?”

  “Flea market,” I told him. “It’s just like the one my sister got for her birthday when we were kids, and I want to fix it up nice for her daughter’s birthday.”

  “That’s a cool gift, man,” he said. “What do you have in mind?” There was a glint of something extra in his golden-brown eyes, like maybe he’d offer up additional services if I were interested. I wasn’t. Was I? No!

  “I don’t want it to look brand new,” I told him, pretending I didn’t notice his interest. “I just want it to look clean and be safe for Rach to ride.”

  “That’s doable,” Jack said then went over the cost and timeframe to whip the bike into shape. “Does that sound fair?”

  I was surprised by how much he planned to charge me, but nothing was too good for my princess. “I can live with it.” If I wasn’t a faithful man, I might have offered to blow him if I thought it would save me some cash. Jack sure was magnificent to look at, but I’d never cheat on Travis. “Call me when it’s ready, and I’ll come pick it up.”

  “I look forward to it,” he practically purred.

  Would he have been so flirty if Travis had come with me? I think the better question to ponder was if Travis would’ve even cared. My man had run hot and cold with me the past six months, and I grappled with what I should do about it. I knew the answer didn’t lie in a stranger’s bed, so I thanked him and kept it moving.

  Racheal had perfect April weather for her birthday party two Saturdays later. Jules and Will purchased and beautifully restored a home in the Forest Glen neighborhood of Chicago fifteen years prior, creating the perfect home to raise a family in. It just took them a lot longer to get their little miracle than they had planned. My sister had suffered several miscarriages and had all but given up when she decided to try one last time. They were blessed with a perfect baby girl nine months later. Racheal was the apple of our eye, especially mine since it didn’t look like I would ever have kids of my own.

  “Let me guess,” Jules said when I walked into her house alone with Travis’s wrapped gift tucked under my arm. “Business trip? Important lunch with a client? Too busy? Doesn’t give a fuck about your family or feelings?”

  “Something like that,” I said, kissing her cheek. My sister pulled no punches when it came to Travis and the lack of effort he put into his relationship with my small family, which consisted of my sister, Will, and Racheal. Jules had always welcomed him with arms wide open, but Travis could never get used to her bold, unfiltered personality.

  “She’ll take some getting used to,” Travis said after meeting her. It didn’t take me long to realize that he either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, get used to her.

  To be honest, I was glad he didn’t come. He’d look down his nose at the barbecue feast my sister prepared, refuse to eat the sugary cake and ice cream, and rush us out of there as soon as he thought we spent sufficient time there. I liked to linger after everyone else went home and spend time with my three favorite people.

  “Try not to take it personally,” I told Jules.

  “Pffft,” she said, waving her hand. “I couldn’t care less what that asshole thinks about us. I just hate to see you settling for someone who doesn’t make you happy. You deserve a home filled with love and children.”

  “I am happy.” I forced a smile on my face to prove how happy I was, but I could see that it fell short.

  “Stop badgering Rush,” Will said, entering the kitchen with a platter laden with grilled burgers, hot dogs, and sausages. “There are like two dozen hungry people outside, including one impatient birthday girl who wants to open her presents but can’t until after she eats.”

  Jules approached the counter and finished arranging the platters of burger and hot dog toppings that she was working on when I arrived. I pitched in, grateful for the interruption. My love life might not be worthy of a romance novel, but it worked for me. I sometimes got tired of defending why I stayed with Travis. It didn’t matter my reasons. I chose him, and I wanted that to be respected.

  “I’m sorry, Rush,” Jules said when we returned to the kitchen to clean up the mess after everyone devoured the food. “I have no right to judge you or criticize your life.” She held her tongue while we loaded the dishwasher, but just like when we were kids, her words started flowing the minute she stuck her hands in the warm, soapy water to wash the platters that didn’t fit in the dishwasher.

  I sensed a but was coming. Wait for it. One… two… three…

  “But, I—”

  My laughter interrupted her, and she elbowed me hard in the stomach. My breath left my body in a whoosh. “Vicious,” I said, placing my hands over my abs to protect myself from another blow.

  “You deserve better than Travis’s cold indifference,” she said then pinned me with the same glare she gave me when I annoyed the hell out of her as a kid. “Even though, I’m not sure why I think it now.”

  “Because it’s true,” Will said, joining us. “Look, why don’t we rehash this again for the two hundredth time after the birthday girl opens her gifts and eats her cake. How much longer do you think I can hold her off?”

  “Fine,” Jules said, drying her hands and tossing the towel on the counter. “We’re not finished, Rush.”

  Will and I fell in several steps behind her. “Don’t worry; I’ll distract her so you can get the hell out of here whenever you’re ready,” he said in a conspiring tone.

  “You’re a keeper, Will,” I told him. I couldn’t have loved him more if he was a blood relative.

  “Come sit by me, Uncle Rush,” Racheal hollered when I walked down the deck stairs.

  I crossed the lawn and took the seat beside her, but that apparently wasn’t enough because Rach climbed onto my lap. My heart squeezed tight in my chest when she aimed her megawatt smile at me. How much longer would I be my angel’s favorite person on earth? How long before someone else replaced me? I shoved the worrisome thought aside and hugged her a little tighter.

  Rach remained on my lap while she opened each gift and thanked everyone. Of course, Jules made a list of who gave her what gift so that she could help Racheal send thank you cards later. When we were kids, my mother always told us we were never too young to learn impeccable manners. Jules was passing along those teachings to her daughter.

  “What did you get me, Uncle Rush?” she asked. “That,” Racheal pointed to the Kindle, “is definitely a gift from Travis.” Not Uncle Travis, just Travis. She seemed to like the tablet, but she certainly didn’t respond in the way that Travis predicted.

  “I think the gift tag said it was from both of us. What makes you think I got you something else?”

  “Because I’m your favorite person on the planet,” she replied, sounding seventeen instead of seven.

  “True,” I said. “Loop your arms around my neck.” As soon as she complied, I rose to my feet with a giggling princess clinging to me. “Maybe I do have a surprise for you.” I looked at my sister and nodded my head toward the house. “You won’t want to miss this either.”

  Jules seemed as excited as Racheal when we took a shortcut through the house to reach my SUV parked in the driveway. I set Rach down on the pavement and said, “Close your eyes.” I laughed when both special ladies in my life eagerly complied. “No peeking.”

  “We won’t,” they said together.

  I popped the hatchback and pulled the bike out, setting it in front of them. I closed the door and waited until I thought the ladies had squirmed long enough. “Okay, open your eyes!”

  “Wow!” Racheal said when she saw her new bike.

  “Oh my God!” Jules said before br
iefly covering her mouth with her hands. “It’s just like the one I used to have when I was a girl. Oh man, you loved that freaking bike as much as I did.”

  “I sure did,” I replied.

  Our father had decided when I was seven years old that I was man enough to learn how to ride a bike. All the other kids had already learned and Butch Holden’s kid was just as good as those other boys. I wanted to ride Jules’s bike, but dad had said only sissies would want to ride a girl’s bike.

  “My boy will never grow up to be a sissy.”

  I didn’t know what my dad had meant at the time, but I could tell by his tone of voice that being a sissy was a very bad thing. I didn’t want to be bad, but I loved that bike so much. Jules even had these streamer things that dangled from the ends of the handlebars and floated on the breeze whenever she rode her bike. I didn’t get streamers and a pretty basket; I got some dark-blue, boring bike that I hated.

  “Guard your bike, baby girl,” Jules said. “Uncle Rush stole mine one afternoon with the help of his friend.”

  “He did?” she asked in wide-eyed wonder.

  Memories I spent decades trying to forget rushed through me, making my eyes tear with both joy and sorrow. Jules bit her lip nervously when she realized what she had said. I saw the regret in her eyes, but she’d already picked the scab off my wound.

  “I did.”

  “Wow! I want to hear all about it,” Racheal said, throwing her leg over the banana seat.

  “Wait a minute,” Jules said. “You have to wear your protective gear. Bad things can happen if you don’t, right, Uncle Rush?”

  “Very true.”

  “Oh man, I want to know what happened.”

  I waited for my niece to put her helmet, knee pads, and elbow pads on before I gave her the G-rated version of the day I couldn’t resist temptation any longer. Of course, I never knew if it was the bike or the boy who pushed me over the edge. Once I was in the privacy of my car heading home, I let myself remember the full version of events.