Loving Nick, Again

By Joanie MacNeil

Claire Vincent’s unexpected encounter with old flame, Nick Sheridan threatens her hard-earned independence and the life she’s created for herself and her young sons. She is determined that nothing will take that independence away from her, not even Nick.

Nick is licking his wounds after a messy divorce. When he sees Claire for the first time in fourteen years, the passion he once felt for her, passion he thought died long ago, is reawakened.

Is he ready for a new relationship and an instant family?

Will Claire learn to trust her heart to Nick a second time?

Editorial Reviews

A poignant, tender story about two people haunted by mistakes of the past, but with the courage and spirit to overcome their fears and fight for their happy ending. Joanie MacNeil is a truly gifted storyteller. Carrie Brock

A heartwarming romance about first love and second chances. Claire and Nick have been hurt in the past and must now overcome assumptions and attempt to communicate with one another again. Although not as sensual as some books, Ms MacNeil skillfully turns up the heat, keeping conservative views to the forefront. The Australian setting is interesting, while the scenes with Claire's sons add an endearing touch and further define the hero's character. A sweet love story. Pat Cavender

Claire Vincent, single mom, finds herself in the clutches of long lost love, Nick Sheridan. They both try to resist the desire running rampant when in each other's company. However, neither is ready to trust after both failing in their previous marriages. Now, Claire has twin boys to think of first. Can she trust this man who deserted her many years before and allow herself to believe in a marriage and home made in Heaven? You'll soon discover if love truly conquers all. This story will captivate your soul. Kim Gaona

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Feb 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9780228601630

Joanie MacNeil

Australian romance author Joanie MacNeil writes short contemporary romance novels. All but two of her novels are set in Australia. Two are set in Scotland and her dream is to visit there again.She loves to travel with her own romantic hero, recently visiting Tunisia, Istanbul, Croatia, Venice, Mykonos, Spain, Portugal and Morocco, and also cruising the Mediterranean. The most recent adventure involved taking the Indian Pacific train from Sydney to Perth, then driving across Australia from west coast to east.When she’s not travelling, or involved in writing-related activities, Joanie enjoys going to the movies, having coffee with friends, participating in aqua aerobics, and spending time with her three lively little grandsons.To find out more about Joanie's books, click this link to go directly to her website: http://www.joaniemacneil.com/

Book preview

Loving Nick…Again

By Joanie MacNeil

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-0163-0

Kindle 978-1-77299-309-7

Amazon Print ISBN: 978-1-77299-310-3

Copyright 2016 by Joan Wright

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

* * *

Chapter One

Claire Vincent pushed her hair from her face, kissed and hugged her curly-headed twin sons once again before climbing into her beat-up old car.

You be good for Nanna and Grandpa. I don't want to hear you've been squabbling with each other. She looked at the golden-haired imps and knew she asked the impossible.

We promise we'll be good, mum, eight year old Nathan acknowledged with a smile. His innocent blue eyes belied the mischief hinted at in his expression.

Course we will, Matthew agreed solemnly. Nanna won't buy us any treats if we fight. Though he was the more serious one, Matthew could cause as much of a ruckus as his twin.

Claire rolled her eyes and grinned at her mother. Sounds suspiciously like bribery to me.

Kate Whitby returned her daughter's smile. Off you go Claire. She stood proudly between her two grandsons, an arm around each of them. Don't worry about these two larrikins. You go and do your job and take some time out to have a break. Enjoy that fresh sea air and a change of scenery. It will do you good to get out of Canberra for a while.

Thanks Mum. I don't know where I'd be without you. Claire looked at her mother and wondered whether she would ever be half as good a parent.

Just phone me when you get to the caravan park. Your father and I won't worry so much once we know this old car has seen you safely over Brown Mountain.

I promise I'll phone. I'd better get going or it'll be dark before I get there. With a farewell smile and a wave, Claire took off from her parents' house where she'd lived with her sons for the past few months.

Claire's decision to leave the boys for a few weeks hadn't been an easy one, but Kate convinced her it was for the best.

Claire brushed a tear from her eye and concentrated more closely on the traffic as she neared the busy town of Cooma.

Things had been tough since Rob's mysterious death almost twelve months ago, but now life was coming together at last, thanks to her parents' constant support and encouragement. Many a time she'd wanted to hide away and let the world happen without her, but the boys kept her going.

And people like her parents. Her father had put off retirement for another year so he could support her and her sons until they got back on their feet. And her former boss... If it weren't for Bill Devlin's generosity, she'd still be looking for a job.

When he'd heard the news of Rob's death, he'd sought her out, offered her a contract designing a range of kitchens and bathrooms for next season's showroom displays. Bill handed her the opportunity to become financially independent.

You always were my top designer and hardest worker, Bill had said teasingly but he meant every word.

She was even more thrilled when he asked her to liaise with half a dozen clients who now lived on the coast, long-standing clients who were keen to renovate their homes.

What really touched her heart was that he had faith in her. It seemed a long time since anyone, besides her parents, had catered to her failing self-esteem. Rob certainly hadn't. Sadly, he'd changed in the last few years before his death.

Not every woman was given a second chance when life messed up. She'd been given an opportunity to prove herself, to heal her damaged self-esteem, and at thirty-two, a shot at independence. That was what she really craved. Independence. And nothing would stand in her way. Nothing.

As she turned left at Cooma onto the Snowy Mountains Highway towards the distant coast, Claire smiled and realized just how lucky she was.

* * *

Claire drove into the entrance of Diamond Lake Caravan Park, and lowered the visor to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun. She parked by the office, climbed from the car and stretched, releasing the tension of three hours spent behind the wheel of her small hatchback.

She surveyed her surroundings. The park graced the edge of the lake, which sparkled magically like its namesake in the glow of the sun. Vans and cabins, grouped in an orderly fashion, were separated by well-maintained lawns and shrubbery. Large trees, mainly eucalypts, and another species she didn't recognize, were scattered about the grounds. It was a peaceful setting, just the thing to heal her inner self and strengthen her resolve for success in this new phase of her life.

A plaque with Jan and Ray Dean, Proprietors hung on the rough brick wall at the entrance to the office. Claire pushed open the flyscreen door into the reception area, which doubled as a mini-market. There appeared to be living quarters through a doorway at the back.

The aroma and sizzle of dinner cooking tugged on her heart. Right now her boys would be playing in the warmth of her parents' home, enjoying the similar smells of her mother's cooking. Claire swallowed. Enough. She'd taken on this job for herself as well as her sons.

An attractive young woman in her early to mid twenties popped up from behind the counter. The heavy fragrance she wore almost took Claire's breath away and she forced herself not to take a step back as she returned the woman's welcoming smile.

Claire introduced herself.

Are you Jan? Claire asked, and wondered if she was the only person to find the perfume suffocating.

No, I'm Pammy, the woman replied as she pulled a key from a rack on the wall. Jan has gone to Melbourne for a few days. Her mother's sick. I'm just helping out while she's away. There's too much to do around here for Ray to manage on his own.

Claire nodded. Yes, I imagine there is. The grounds are lovely. All the open space and the trees—and the play area by the lake—the place really does look like a park.

Ray takes care of it all himself. You can see what I mean about keeping him busy. Pammy continued, Mr. Devlin rang to say you'd be using his cabin for a while. I hope you enjoy your stay here.

Yes. Thank you, Claire replied, drawn in by the young woman's warmth and friendliness. I expect to be here for a few weeks.

You'll find the park very quiet at this time of year. There're just a handful of people—regulars—with occasional visitors on the weekends. We do get quite busy when the fishing competitions are running. People come from everywhere, and then we're booked solid.

She slid the visitors' book across the counter, and pointed a finger to the line for Claire to sign. With just the few regulars, we usually have a weekly get-together—it's tonight—at my place, cabin ten. You're welcome to come along if you like. Just bring something for a pot luck dinner and we'll have a game of cards or something afterwards.

Oh, thanks, Claire replied, but it's been a long drive at the end of a difficult day. I'd just like to settle early tonight. Maybe next time.

Pammy smiled. Sure thing. Next week we'll probably go out to dinner somewhere.

She handed Claire the key and a map of the park. Cabin eight. It's small, but you get a nice view of the lake and the park, and you're not too far from the amenities block. Just follow the road and turn left.

* * *

Nick heaved the crate of tools and electrical equipment into the back of the Ute and surveyed the view of the ocean. A real bargain. The view, plus a house. Of course, if it hadn't been in such disrepair, he couldn't have bought it so cheaply.

So far, he'd made good progress on the renovations to the old house. Today had been particularly long and hard. Strenuous work was therapy. It helped him heal inside, while physically getting him back into shape. He hadn't felt this good in a long time, but right now, his tired aching muscles begged for a long hot shower.

And tonight it was dinner at Pammy's. He'd almost forgotten.

Nick's heart warmed as he drove through the park and pulled up by his cabin. Ah, but it was good to be home.

He noticed a new arrival in cabin eight—a small sedan with Australian Capital Territory plates parked in the drive. What would bring someone here in mid-winter, he pondered as he juggled the tools and shopping and unlocked his own cabin.

From the safety of the doorjamb, a piece of folded pink notepaper fluttered to the floor. He dumped the goods on the table and bent to pick up the paper.

As he unfolded the note, a familiar sickly sweet fragrance assaulted his nostrils. His nose crinkled.

Nicky darling. Just a gentle reminder, my place, six pm.

Love, Pammy.

Crossed kisses and love hearts encircled her name and a rounded dark berry lipstick imprint decorated the lower right-hand corner of the note.

A faint smile flickered across his face when he thought of the leggy strawberry blonde. He sighed, long and deep. Ah, once. Once he would have accepted an invitation with all its trimmings from someone like the flirtatious Pammy, warm, softhearted soul that she was.

But in other ways, ways that mattered, Pammy reminded him too much of his ex-wife. Never again would he allow a woman to take his heart the way Belinda had.

* * *

Nick toweled himself dry. He appreciated that his cabin had its own bathroom. If it weren't for the generosity of Jan and Ray, who insisted he have their best cabin, he'd use the amenities block like everyone else.

Feeling a thousand times better after a long hot shower, Nick grabbed a beer from the fridge and moved out on the deck to relax. Curiosity overcame him as he watched the new arrival, a woman, unload her car. He wondered again what brought her to such a quiet coastal resort at this time of year.

Her straight russet hair hung loosely around her face. She looked soft and nicely rounded, a pleasant change from the pencil thin females he was used to—like Pammy, or like Belinda with her long legs.

This woman was small, about five feet, he estimated, and compact—tantalizingly so. Perhaps that's what caught his eye. Nick smiled, reassured he still appreciated feminine charms, and she was definitely built for comfort, not speed.

Now that was a phrase he hadn't thought of in quite some time.

Nick my friend, there's still hope for you yet, he muttered. In between sips of beer, he puzzled why, all of a sudden, he'd begun to think like his former amorous self.

But there was something else...the movement of her hips when she walked caused Nick to look more closely as she lugged an armful of linen into the cabin and re-appeared seconds later.

It can't be, he mumbled distractedly as he rose from his chair on the deck. It just can't be.

Long forgotten images, which held a special place deep in his heart, teased at his memory. He had to know. Right now.

If he made a fool of himself, well, perhaps the woman would understand and laugh with him when he explained. Or perhaps she'd think he was coming on to her. Whatever, he had to know.

He tossed the empty beer can in the trash and headed down the stairs.

His gaze never left her as he walked slowly down the gravel path. In the crisp afternoon air, the last rays of the sun filtered through the tall eucalypts scattered throughout the park.

He focused on the woman as she moved to the back of her car. Nick smiled. It could be. It just could be. Though the eighteen-year old woman whose image appeared in his mind hadn't been as shapely as this one, there was something about the way she walked that urged him on. The beat of his heart began to gather speed with each forward step.

The woman was busy shoving bits and pieces from the back of her car into a plastic laundry basket. He stopped a few meters away, rested his forearm against a tree and observed her quietly.