Begin Again Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Begin Again

  S. J. Lynn

  Begin Again

  By: S. J. Lynn

  Published by: S. J. Lynn

  Copyright © 2017 S. J. Lynn

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Editor: Write Divas

  Cover Designer: ebooklaunch.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Other Books by S. J. Lynn

  Through the Fog

  The Heart’s Shrapnel

  Walls of Ainsley (Book 1)

  Heart of Ainsley (Book 2)

  Acknowledgements

  For those who like to simply enjoy a love story/clean romance.

  Love is power. Love is everything.

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by S. J. Lynn

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 1

  Maggie

  “A little higher with the leg lift, Amy. You can do it.” I made sure to smile at Amy, the six-year-old with bouncy auburn curls and a light pink tutu as she struggled to keep up with the other girls. She was adorable with her petite stature, short legs, and round stomach that made all the other girls her age seem much older and slenderer against her portly physique. Amy stretched her leg as far as she could on the barre, stumbling a few times while she grunted her frustration. She huffed out a breath and pouted.

  “I can’t, Ms. Warner. My leg is just too short,” Amy said, showing her discontent. The other girls giggled.

  “Hush, now,” I told them gently before walking over. “What are we once inside my studio?”

  “Ladies,” they all said in unison.

  “Very good. Now, continue with your stretches, please.” Leaving them to it, I kneeled beside Amy. She was sitting on the floor as she held her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. I suppressed a laugh at the adorable scowl on her porcelain face. “Amy. Are we having a bad day?”

  Amy sniffled. “Yeah.” She sulked, wiping the back of her hand over her nose.

  I shifted and took a seat next to her, while looking around at the other girls who were all managing the exercise as perfectly as any six-year-old could. I turned to Amy. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Amy peeked up from out of the corner of her eye as if unsure, and I nudged her side, causing her to giggle.

  “Well?” I asked.

  Her face sobered. “Jenny said I couldn’t be a ballerina because I’m not as pretty as you, and I’m too fat.”

  Ah, Jenny. She was the tallest of the seven girls in my class and probably the most proficient, but she was a bully. I’d have to have a talk with her parents later after class, which was something I dreaded unless it was for a good report. Either way, Amy was suffering and something needed to be done.

  “She did? Well that wasn’t very nice of her, was it?” Amy shook her head and rested her chin on her knees.

  There was only one thing to cheer her up. I leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “That’s not what Mr. Pickles says about you.”

  Amy’s head shot up and looked around before finally setting her bright brown eyes on me. “You’re being silly, Ms. Warner. Mr. Pickles can’t talk.” She giggled.

  I feigned surprise. “What? And why ever not?”

  “Because he’s just a cat. Cats can’t talk.”

  “Really? No! Sure they can…you just have to believe.” I tapped her nose with the tip of my finger and her eyes lit up with wonder.

  “Mr. Pickles talks to you?” Her little body leaned toward mine as she eagerly waited for a response. Kids were so innocent, and I loved being around them, feeling the energy and hope they had for everything.

  “Don’t tell anyone.” I winked. “It’s just our little secret.”

  Amy nodded, and I got up. Meltdown averted.

  The hour flew by with me introducing them to new techniques and breathing exercises. When it came time for the girls to leave, I asked that Jenny’s mom stay behind. It always made me feel judgmental somehow and condescending, but it was part of my job. If one girl was suffering, all were suffering. And I didn’t get paid just to teach warmups. Parents expected results, wanting their children to make it out of this small town.

  “Well, I’m sorry, Magnolia. I’m not sure where my little Jenny gets that attitude. It most certainly isn’t from me.” Caroline held her manicured fingers to her chest. She was only two years older than me, clocking her at twenty-eight. If there was one thing Caroline did right, it was drama, which usually came with a whole lot of lying to put up a front. It wasn’t that I cared. I was here to do a job.

  “Well, maybe just have a talk with her. I’m sure everything will be fine after that.”

  “Yes, I’m sure, too,” Caroline drawled, her mouth stretching wide in a fake smile. “Uh, tell me Magnolia—”

  “You can call me Maggie. Everyone else does.”

  Caroline huffed and playfully tapped my shoulder. “Everyone…listen to you. You’re back in your home town of Magnolia Springs, Alabama, little lady. You’ll always be Magnolia May Warner to us.”

  I smiled, but only because I had nothing else to say. I was glad to be back in some ways. I’d always loved this little town. It was postcard beautiful. Small and quaint and maybe a little behind the rest of society, but that’s what made it special. Everyone knew everyone else, which in times like these I hated, but usually it was just one big family who looked out for one another.

  “The rest of the girls’ parents want you to know how thankful we are that you are here just in time for the upcoming summer festival. You are coming, aren’t you?”

  “You know, I—”

  “Oh, you must.” Caroline clasped her hands together. “You can’t do all this hard work and not reap the reward.” It wasn’t hard work. I loved being with these girls. I loved ballet. Dance was a way of expression and these days, my only outlet. “Plus, Trina has been asking me to get you to bring your famous pies.”

  “We’ll see, Caro
line,” I told her as we walked to the door. Caroline wasn’t finished. She called for Jenny and turned to me.

  “Listen, why don’t you come to lunch with me and a few other friends from old times? I know you probably haven’t been getting out much with…” I closed my eyes, waiting, while also praying for her to not go any further. “Well, you know. But really, it’s been like almost a year, honey, since that happened. And I know you’ve only been back a week, but we’ve been eager to catch up.”

  My stomach knotted. “Yes, I know.” I forced a smile, doing all I could to remain in one piece while Jenny came over to her mom. “You did great today, Jenny.” Jenny beamed as she said her thanks. “I’ll see you Thursday, okay?”

  “Okay. Bye, Ms. Warner.” She waved goodbye and I waved back as she and Caroline walked down the hall and to the right.

  Once they were out of sight, I shut my door and locked it, turning to lean my back against the hard surface. I blew out a breath. “You can do this. You. Can. Do. This.”

  I heard a soft meow and felt a hairy ball of fluff against my legs. My cat purred, happy everyone was gone. I knelt and gathered him into my arms, immediately scratching behind his ears. My last trip here I’d found him on the side of the road. It was raining and he was just a kitten, his little coat drenched. My fiancé wasn’t so happy about him until I brought him home and gave him a bath, his Russian blue coat shined against his bright green eyes. We both fell in love with the little one.

  My heart sank as I walked over to place Mr. Pickles on the window ledge of my studio apartment. It was a shock to me that it sat empty all those months I’d been away. But I was glad it was still mine. The drywall of my last apartment couldn’t compare with the red brick here and the light wooden floor. The area was large, and thankfully had a bedroom and bath, though small, in separate rooms. The kitchen was small, but it allowed me to have all this extra space for my dance classes. I had no other choice—bills needed to be paid.

  I stared out the windows that made up one entire wall, allowing me to look out over the town of Magnolia Springs. There was a beautifully landscaped park everyone held town picnics in. The start of every season the town would throw a festival in celebration. My family and I would attend every one, getting comatose from all the sugary baked goods and barbecued pork. Of course, that was before my mother moved away. Those were memories I’d cherish. But these days I hated where my apartment and job were. I hated that the park across from me was in view of the firehouse where my fiancé had worked and where he died. And I hated that I couldn’t look out my own window without seeing the reminders that my life was forever changed.

  It was getting dark, but kids still played and lovers still sat huddled on the benches holding hands as they talked about their futures. I bit my lip and turned away. That was me not so long ago. I also had been naïve in thinking my whole life was ahead of me and that the man next to me would be a part of it, but I was wrong. I got the modern fairy tale—where happy endings only existed in books.

  Chapter 2

  Maggie

  It was late spring and the sweet fragrance of magnolia trees filled the warm, crisp air as I walked through the park to my destination. I’d missed all the varieties of blossoms that beautifully painted the town when I was living in the city. This tiny part of Alabama was a pallet of color with its many shades of pinks, yellows, purples and white that were wonderfully accented by the vibrant greenery. I’d never been a city girl, other than trying to be this past year. But despite that, it didn’t quite feel like home anymore.

  “Magnolia Warner, is that you?” a familiar voice drawled, and I turned around to see the face it belonged to. Marybeth.

  “Marybeth, hey. How are you this morning?”

  “Oh, still alive and kickin’. But you called off today. Is everything alright, honey?”

  Marybeth was like a mother to me, but she was also my employer for job number two as a waitress, for which I was thankful she took me back. The middle-aged woman was a friend to everyone and loved her customers as if they were family—that included her staff. I’d started working at her diner at sixteen and never regretted it. It was just a small place, like everywhere else in this little town, but it was a favorite for all. It was simply called Marybeth’s.

  “Yeah, I’m really sorry. Were you able to find someone?”

  Marybeth drew closer and gave me one of her bear hugs. I latched on tightly and allowed her concern to comfort me. “Now, don’t you bother yourself with such nonsense, you hear?” She pulled back and I unwrapped my arms from around her. “I was just worried and was about to call you, in fact, before I took the deposit to the bank, when I saw you.” She looked up at the big red building and her eyes softened, her mouth slanting down in a frown. “Oh, that’s right. I completely forgot.”

  “It’s alright.”

  “No, I should have remembered you telling me a while back that you had to come here for Josh’s things. Would you like me to go in with you, sugar pie?”

  As much as I would have loved to have had her support, this was something I had to do on my own.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

  The pity wasn’t leaving her expression and it made me feel vulnerable—like people could tell what we were talking about. Not that everyone didn’t already know.

  “Alright, honey. You give me a ring if you need anything. Or stop by later for some of your homemade apple pie and ice cream.” She winked.

  Despite my heavy heart, I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Marybeth.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. Well, I should let you go. See you soon.”

  “Yes, see you soon, Marybeth.” I waited a little before turning around and looking up at the fire station. I’d spent the whole week I’d been back looking across the park at it, afraid to step inside. It just stood there, taunting me to come over. I exhaled and looked down the street at everyone laughing and coming in and out of the little shops.

  It was now or never.

  I pushed open the glass doors and felt the conditioned air as I made my way to the office. I was well aware of the other unit where all the action happened and I was not going to put myself through that.

  “Excuse me, sir, is the chief in?” I asked the first person I came to. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt so I wasn’t sure if he worked there or was a visitor.

  The man smiled. “I haven’t seen him yet, but I can ask the guys.”

  “I would really appreciate it. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am.” He gestured with his head. “Follow me.”

  A surge of fear spiked through my stomach, all the way up to my chest. My throat tightened. “Oh, um…I don’t need to go in there.”

  The man raised his brows and looked at me, then the area where the firetrucks were held. “No, ma’am. That’s the apparatus bay. We’re going to the workout room. That’s where the guys are.”

  My cheeks reddened and I felt immeasurably embarrassed by first assuming he was taking me to the room with all the firetrucks, and then by hearing he wanted me to follow him to where guys were working out. I just wanted to speak with the chief, grab what I came for, and leave.

  I threw a thumb behind my shoulder toward the front door. “I can just wait outside, or—”

  “It’s not a problem. It’ll be quick. Besides”—he grinned—“I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  I nodded, giving in. “Lead the way.”

  It wasn’t long before the glossy gray speckled floor had led us to the workout room. I could hear the clanking of heavy machinery.

  As the guy went in and yelled something to the others, I waited outside the door, my heart beating wildly. There was brief laughter before he came back and waved me in.

  I first noted brick walls that matched the rest of the building. Next, I saw there wasn’t a lot of equipment, which I imagined was on purpose so the men had more room to work out together. There were the typical treadmills, stepmill and spin bike, along with an
adjustable bench and a few other machines that were no doubt necessary to what they did for a living.

  “Well, hi there,” another one of the men said as he came up to me and shook my hand. A few others followed, while some remained dutifully on their machines trying their best not to look my way.

  They knew Josh.

  “Hi,” I offered lamely. What was I supposed to say to a room full of half-naked men? The guy who spoke was handsome and probably knew it, too. He had thick black hair and a muscled chest that went beyond my liking, but he was nice. He must have started working here after I left.

  “Heard you’re looking for the chief,” he said, grinning. “He won’t be back until later, but you’re welcome to stick around here.” The other men were still staring, and I felt an uncontrollable need to step back and regain my personal space. I knew it was all harmless fun to them, and I used to banter back and forth, but things had changed, though I’d always been shy. Still, I’d always love and respect them.

  “No, that’s okay. I—”

  “Leave her alone, Neale.” I looked over at the man the voiced belonged to. He was handsome, and I hated that my heart jumped at first glance. Tall and tanned, he was bare-chested and slick with sweat that accentuated his abs. He had the body of a true cowboy and looked as if he could have been one. He wasn’t bulky. He was lean and toned. Just enough muscle to suggest he did hard labor. His hair was a thick sandy-blond that was longer on the top and shorter on the sides, and his blue eyes were like the ocean; dark and mesmerizing. Something about him seemed familiar, though I couldn’t pinpoint why. He looked to be a little older than me.

  This was a small town; I was sure I’d seen him around somewhere.

  “I was just introducing myself. No need to get all bent out of shape,” Neale said, grinning, as he picked up a towel and wiped at his face. He went back over to sit on a bench, immediately lifting the weights with his legs.