Second Chance Dad by Angela Benson released on Dec 13, 2005 is available now for purchase.

Second Chance Dad

By Angela Benson

Silhouette

Copyright © 2005 Angela Benson
All right reserved.
ISBN: 0373285493

Monique stood on the cracked concrete sidewalk infront of the faded brick two-story building. Its massive white columns and imposing cement stepsloomed before her petite, five-foot-four-inch frame,making her feel as small and as insignificant as she'dfelt ten years ago. Good ol' Elberton High School,she thought, shaking her head. It still looks the sameafter all these years.

Her heart picked up a rhythm from the past and herlips curved in a smile as heavily hooded dark eyesand a contrasting wide, white-tooth smile set in a caramel-colored masculine face flashed in her mind. Dillon Bell. The first man she'd ever loved.

Her smile faltered as another image of that sameface replaced the first one. The eyes in this face werewide and brimmed with tears that she'd never beforeseen there. The smile was absent, replaced by a grimace, and the tightness to his features told her he wasin pain.

She reached in the pocket of her white walkingshorts for a tissue, then wiped at the tears that filledher own eyes. She knew she couldn't change the past,couldn't take back the awful words she'd spoken, butshe could try to make amends. She could make rightthe biggest wrong she'd ever committed.

She stuffed the tissue back in her pocket and, in anattempt to shake off the negative spirit that wanted tosettle around her, took confident steps toward the entrance of the school. As she climbed the last step, thesteel doors opened.

"Come on, Calvin."

Her skin tingled at the sound of the rich, baritonevoice that had often whispered words of love andfamily in her teenage ears.

"Okay, Daddy," a small voice answered.His son, she knew. His other son. Monique heldher breath and waited for Dillon and his son to exitthe building, refusing to give in to the fear that toldher to run, to wait for a better time to see him again.

"Ready to go?" she heard Dillon ask.

No answer came, but a young boy dressed in whitesneakers and socks, a blue golf shirt and khaki shorts,stepped outside. The youngster, whom she guessed tobe about four, saw her and stared, obviously surprisedby her presence.

Dillon backed into his son as he was locking thedoor, causing the boy to turn away from her for abrief second and giving her a private moment to compose herself. The boy looked so much like Glenn hadat that age. They could be...

"There's a lady out here, Daddy," came the child'svoice, which stopped her thoughts. "She's pretty."He turned back around and smiled at her, his surpriseat seeing her replaced with what she thought was acceptance.

"A pretty lady, huh?" Dillon repeated, giving thedoor handle a final shake to assure that it was secured.He turned around and opened his mouth to speak, butbefore he could form his words, his dark brown eyesmet hers. She knew he'd been transported ten yearsback in time just as she had been. She saw warmthspread across his face at the memories, and then shesaw that warmth quickly replaced by caution. Sheswallowed her hurt, telling herself that his responsewas no less than she expected. No less than she deserved.

"Hi, Dillon," she said, praying her voice didn'tfalter, praying he didn't still hate her.

"Hi" was all he said, but the words he didn't sayrang in her ears and kept her eyes glued to his.

She watched him and he watched her as the silencebetween them stretched as if to envelop the distancebetween them. Her first thought was that he and hisson were dressed in matching outfits. Her secondthought was that he'd gotten more attractive. Hisshoulders were wider and his chest more defined. Hewas now the man in body that he'd always been insoul. Her glance slid to his hands. Large, vanilla-wafer-shaded brown hands. Hands that had comfortedher, teased her and loved her. It hit her suddenly howmuch she missed those hands.

Monique took a deep breath and let her gaze travelback to his strong, but now-shuttered face. Their eyesmet and held, but neither spoke.

"Hi." The boy's voice sounded, interrupting thesafety of the silence. "I'm Calvin. What's yourname?"

Monique dragged her glance from Dillon's darkeyes to the identical ones in Calvin's face. "I'm Monique Morgan," she said, bending down and extendingher hand to the tot. "I went to school with your dad."She glanced up at Dillon and gave him a slight smile,before looking back down at the little boy. "A verylong time ago."

"Do you know my mama?"

Monique shook her head, but before she couldspeak, Dillon's voice filled the air.

"No, your mother and I went to college together.Monique and I went to high school together right hereat Elberton High."

Calvin turned to Monique, his eyes wide. "Youdid?" He scrunched up his nose. "How old areyou?"

The sincerity of the question made Monique andDillon laugh. It was a good laugh, too. When it ended,some of the tension between them was gone.

Dillon rubbed his hand across his son's head."Never ask a lady her age, son. They don't like that."

"Why?"

Monique anticipated the question before Calvinasked it. Glenn still asked his share of "why" questions. "Because women don't like to tell their ages,that's why," she said.

The boy shook his head, clearly not understandingwomen. "I'm four," he said, lifting four stubby fingers on his right hand as if offering to swap information with her.

Monique tweaked his flat nose. "I'm still not telling."

The boy laughed and the sound made her insidescurl up and relax. She looked up and saw Dillon observing his son with a pleased, but surprised expression on his face. "He's a wonderful boy, Dillon. Somuch like you."

Dillon nodded, then dropped an arm around hisson's shoulders in a loving and protective gesture."Thank you, I think," he said with a lift of his brow."Listen, we're going for ice cream. Would you liketo go with us?"

Dillon mentally chastised himself as the threesomestrolled to the ice-cream shop. He'd wanted to recallhis invitation as soon as it had passed his lips. Hedidn't want ice cream with Monique now or ever.From the moment he learned she was returning toElberton to work at the high school where he wasvice principal, he'd gone over several scenarios forhandling their first meeting. None of them includedinviting her for ice cream.

He cut his glance to his left and saw that her lipswere curved in a smile as she listened intently to Calvin telling her about his outing today. She nodded herhead in a way that was familiar to him. It was a parent's nod that said she shared the boy's excitementeven though she didn't quite understand what he wastalking about.

"Daddy says I can go to the high school when I'mbigger," Calvin informed Monique with pride. Heturned his head toward Dillon, who'd shortened hisstride so that his son could keep pace during the shortwalk from the high school to the ice-cream shop.

"You said that, didn't you, Daddy?"

Dillon smiled the joy that he felt. His son's happiness was most important to him. And today Calvinwas happy. His animated voice made that clear."Sure did, sport."

Calvin turned back to Monique. "Told you," hesaid. Then with an ease and trust that only a childcould muster, he slipped one of his small hands intoone of Monique's.

Dillon checked her face for her response to hisson's familiarity, and the wide, open smile he sawthere tugged at the closed door of his heart. "I believeyou," she said to Calvin. "The way you're growing,you'll be a big boy in no time at all."

Calvin beamed. Dillon could think of no otherword to describe the joy expressed on his son's often-somber face. He glanced again at the smiling Monique and the door to his heart gave a little.

While his son continued his recitation to Monique,Dillon directed his attention to topics that Calvinwouldn't be thinking about for years. Facing straightahead, he used his peripheral vision to explore thewomanly body he'd once known so well. The yearshad only brought good changes in Monique. Her chin-length hair was no longer curly, but straight, and layin soft waves about her still-innocent-looking face.She'd probably gained five pounds, and if his memoryserved him right, those pounds had been added to herlegs and chest. Not as fat, though. No, the strong,brown legs extending from her white walking shortshinted at lean hips. His eyes moved to her chest,where her sunglasses rested between her breasts onthe thin material of her pink tank top. She definitelyhad more cleavage now than she'd had back then. Heremembered her lamenting her less-than-amplebreasts. He'd always thought her handful enough,though he admitted the extra pounds looked good inthe skimpy top.

When they reached the blue stucco-faced buildingthat housed the ice-cream shop, Dillon stepped aheadof Monique and Calvin, then past the slide and swingsthe shop owner provided for the kids, and opened thedoor. Monique allowed Calvin to enter first and Dillon followed behind her. Naturally, his eyes took inthe delightful sway of her hips as she walked withCalvin to the counter, the child's favorite place tohave ice cream.

Monique helped Calvin climb up on a white,wooden stool, then she took the one next to him. Dillon walked around and took the stool on the otherside of his son. He told himself that he wasn't usingCalvin as a barrier to keep from getting close to Monique.

When the attendant approached them, Calvinquickly ordered his favorite, strawberry ice cream.Dillon expected Monique to order her favorite, blackcherry, but she surprised him by choosing strawberry,as well. He guessed her taste in ice cream hadchanged over the years, and he briefly speculatedwhat else had. When he ordered his usual chocolate,she smiled at him and he wondered if she remembered chocolate was his favorite. He didn't ask,though, because Calvin dominated her attention. Hisson was definitely taken with Monique. The boybarely paused to breathe between sentences as hechattered away.

Dillon smiled when Calvin stopped talking to eathis ice cream. Apparently, Monique's charm couldn'tcompete with the taste of his son's favorite treat.Monique met his smile over Calvin's head and heguessed she was thinking the same thing. The sharedsmile reminded him of the old days when they'd oftenfinished each other's sentences or spoken each other'sthoughts or smiled at some private joke. It had alwaysbeen that way with them. Almost as if they were oneperson. Until the night of the senior prom. The doorto his heart slammed shut at the memory.

Continues...

Excerpted from Second Chance Dadby Angela Benson Copyright © 2005 by Angela Benson. Excerpted by permission.
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