Page 76 of Your Second Chance
He stared at me for a long moment, then shrugged. “Cool.”
“Cool?”
“Yeah, cool.” He dipped his brush into the green paint again, slapping it against the wall with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. “But if this all goes tits up, I’m not painting over this green. It’s a bloody masterpiece.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I went back to rolling the white. Will might complain, but he was here. I stepped back, surveying the garden annex. It was cozy yet more modern than the main house. The small kitchen had sleek white marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. The main room was already furnished with a large gray sofa and a wooden coffee table that added warmth.
Off to the side, the bedroom now featured the dark green accent wall Will had begrudgingly painted, paired with crisp white walls that kept the space balanced. The bathroom was modern, with white tiles and a glass shower.
With its private entrance, accessible only through the garden, the apartment was completely secluded. No more awkward run-ins with Luna and her ball-gag adventures. She couldn’t say no.
Will leaned against the freshly painted green wall, wiping a streak of paint from his arm with the rag he’d been carrying around. “You know, you’ve got to have a word with McTavish during training tomorrow. His scrummaging technique is slipping, and if we don’t sort it, the pack’s going to fold like a cheap lawn chair.”
I nodded, running the roller over the last corner of the wall. “He’s going too high in the bind. I’ll get him on the sled tomorrow, work on keeping his shoulders down and his grip solid before we throw him back into full scrums.”
Will snorted, dipping his brush into the green paint. “Good luck. That lad’s got about as much upper-body strength as a wet noodle. And Sinclair—don’t get me started. Keeps breaking off the mauls early like he’s trying out for the bloody wing.”
“I’ll have another word.” I shook my head. “He either sticks with the drive, or we’ll lose possession every time. The lad needs to learn discipline.”
“Right.” Will smirked.
“Already planning drills for him, but first, we’ve got to finish up here and head upstairs.”
Will shook his head, crossing his arms. “No fucking way. I promised a room, and this is it. I’m not lifting another finger up there.”
I gave him a pointed look. “One more room, Will.”
He paused, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, one more,” he said, pulling me into a quick hug.
He didn’t say it outright, but we both knew which room would be next. The nursery.
29
nova
“Did you ever open that envelope on the counter that said urgent?”
Luna and I were on the sofa together. She’d kicked out the two ball-gag guys earlier, but had come whining to my door not long after, insisting she needed some aftercare. Evidently, I was the only one capable of soothing her, so here I was, braiding her hair while we both lounged in our robes, watching some trashy sitcom on her iPad.
“Oh shit. No.” I froze for a second before jumping up and heading to my room to grab the envelope.
I came back, staring at the boldURGENTprinted across the top.
I sat down slowly, the envelope heavy in my hands as Luna shifted beside me. My freshly braided hair swung over my shoulders as I moved, the two neat French braids she’d just finished resting against my robe.
The documents inside looked official—thick paper, crisp lettering, and a bold header that made my stomach twist before I even read it.
“Looks like it’s from a lawyer or something.” Luna craned her neck to peek over my shoulder. “Maybe the final bit of your divorce?”
I shook my head, my brows furrowing. “No. It can’t be. I’ve already gotten all the documents for that.”
The papers slipped out easily, and I scanned the first page. It explained that there was an account opened in my name at a well-known US bank. A separate piece of paper accompanied it, listing details about a debit card.
“Did you open a new account here?” Luna glanced at the paper in my hand.
“No,” I muttered as I kept reading. “It has to be a scam.”
As I trailed my eyes farther down, my breath caught. My name,Nova Hart, was clearly printed at the top. The account number,00788727, stared back at me. And then the transfer line.
