Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,26

if he should’ve chased after Tash the night she’d ended it. She’d never know why her decision to abort had gutted him but he could’ve been a man and stood up to her. Demanded she give him more of a say. Instead, he’d let her walk away and, if he were completely honest, a small part of him was glad. Would he have had the career if he’d had a child?

He’d seen what life on the road did to families. Daz’s wife had divorced him two years after Rock Hard Place hit the big time and he rarely saw his kids. Roger and his wife had an open marriage, meaning the bass guitarist slept with as many women as humanly possible—guilt free—so why stay married? Blue and Yanni were confirmed bachelors, but both had had serious relationships when the band first arrived in LA, relationships that didn’t last under the strain of long days, long nights and long-legged women.

Ultimately, it had been Kody’s decision to let Tash walk away. But she’d robbed him of almost thirteen years of his daughter’s life and for that, he’d never forgive her.

She shot him a tentative smile as she stopped in front of him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Just peachy,’ he muttered, brandishing a crutch. ‘Can we go?’

‘Sure. Do you need anything—’

‘I’ve signed the discharge papers and organised a follow-up orthopaedic appointment, so there’s nothing you can do.’

She stiffened and a sliver of guilt wormed its way into his angry heart. But then he remembered Isla and how she’d made him laugh for the first time in forever and the guilt faded. He had to hang onto his anger against Tash because if he didn’t, he’d be right back to where he was while lying in that paddock: feeling sorry for himself. He’d wallowed in pity the last four weeks, used it as a shield against anyone, including his best mates when they got too close. No way in hell he’d let the woman who’d deceived him so badly get anywhere near him.

To her credit, Tash didn’t bug him with questions, nor did she hover as he struggled to master the crutches. Instead, she waited until they reached the front door before saying, ‘Give me a minute and I’ll bring the car around into the pick-up area.’

He grunted but even then she didn’t respond, giving a slight shake of her head instead.

It was going to be a long forty-five minute drive back to Brockenridge.

The last thing he needed was to be holed up in her car while he craved a hot shower and a bourbon chaser. He was dusty, dirty and sweaty, and the alcohol would mix nicely with his painkillers. Sadly, both the shower and the bourbon were a pipe dream, as he couldn’t get the plaster on his lower leg wet and getting blotto might result in him damaging more than his ankle. He’d been in a foul mood since he arrived in Brockenridge and no amount of alcohol would change that.

An old blue Holden sedan pulled up in front of him and he struggled to hide his surprise. She still owned the same car. That’s when it hit him. While he’d been swanning around the world in the lap of luxury, indulging in the best of everything, it looked like Tash had been doing it tough raising his child. He knew nothing about her life now. Was she working as a nurse? Did she have the support of her parents? Had some other guy raised his kid? Was money a problem?

Shame burned his cheeks. He’d been so wrapped up in his fury that he hadn’t given her a second thought. They had a lot to talk about but now wasn’t the time. He’d wait until he had a clear head, not this weird cottony feeling from the painkillers.

She left the car running and came around to the passenger side to open the door for him. He hopped towards her, gritting his teeth against a sharp stab of pain as the end of a crutch knocked the plaster.

‘Careful,’ she said, and got a filthy glare for her warning, so she compressed her lips and waited with folded arms while he reached the car, swivelled and backed up towards the seat.

She waited until he’d sat and got both legs in the car before taking his crutches and storing them in the boot.

When she got behind the wheel, he said, ‘Thanks for picking me up.’

‘Not a problem.’

But it was. The taut silence between them as she

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