don't know what I want from you."
"I can answer the first question. I want you back," he said bluntly.
Her heart skipped a beat. "We had our chance. You could have had me before, and you walked away."
"I was seventeen. I wish you could trust me again."
"I wish I could, too, but I don't know how to get there. It would probably take a miracle."
"Well, it is the season for miracles." He got to his feet. "I'll go, Hannah, but I'm not giving up."
"You should. I'm not big on second chances. My mother could tell you that."
"She already did. But some people, some relationships, are worth fighting for."
She stood up. "I'm not convinced of that. I think some relationships have their season, and that's it. They expire. They're done. You can't recreate them."
"Well, I disagree, and I like challenges."
"Is that what this is about? A challenge to get me back just to prove you can?"
"No. It's about you and me, how good we once were, and how good we could be again. I don't just want to have sex with you, Hannah, although I do want that."
Her cheeks filled with heat at his direct statement.
"But I want a lot more," he said. "I want the girl who laughed with me, who challenged me to read books and look at the world in a different way. I want the girl I could talk to all night long, the one I could say anything to, and she could say anything to me. I want the connection we had. The one where everything felt exactly right. I've never felt that with anyone else."
Her body sang at words that were both beautiful and terrifying. She'd never felt that with anyone else, either.
"I want your heart," he said.
"You already broke it," she whispered.
"Give me a chance to put it back together. Just a chance, Hannah. Let's start with that."
She honestly didn't know what to say.
"Just think about it," he said, and then he left.
As she heard the front door close, she let out a breath, feeling a wild range of emotions.
Was he worth a second chance? Did she have enough courage to give him one?
Chapter Seventeen
Hannah woke up Monday morning feeling like she'd been through a mental and emotional war. She'd slept very little, reliving every moment with Jake, every word that they'd spoken. It had pissed her off that she was losing sleep to him for the second time in her life. But as much as she wanted to hang on to that anger, she couldn't do it anymore. She'd gotten to know Jake again, and she liked him even more than she had the first time. She still didn't know if she could give him another chance, but she would have to see how things played out. While she wasn't ready to say yes, she also wasn't ready to say no.
After getting Brett breakfast, she took him out to play in the snow, which they both enjoyed. Then he helped her wrap presents for the hospital party. She tried talking to him a little about Kelly, but he was all over the place in his answers. One thing held true—he adored his mother. According to Brett, Kelly made the best pancakes, she told the best jokes, she gave the best hugs, and she told the best stories. There was no denying that whatever else Kelly might be, she was a good mother.
Her own mother showed up around three, while Brett was napping.
"You look tired," her mom said, as she came through the door. "Has something happened?"
"Aside from entertaining a four-year-old all day? No."
Her mother smiled. "Just think—I had three kids to entertain. How about some coffee? I think we could both use a cup."
"All right," she said, as they moved into the kitchen. "How was your day?"
"Busy. I got in at seven this morning to help get all the Christmas centerpieces out on time. But now I'm off until next weekend. What about your work schedule?"
"Luckily, I have the week off, barring any unforeseen major disasters. I'm supposed to go back to work Friday. Hopefully, Kelly will be back by then," she added, as she started the coffee maker.
"Hopefully," her mom echoed. "Is there any news?"
She sat down at the table across from her mom. "Kelly borrowed a car and the police are now looking for that vehicle."
"Borrowed?" her mom queried. "Is that a polite word for stole?"
"Maybe. I don't know exactly what's going on."
"But you know more than you've told me."
"Yes."
Her mother's sharp