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  Lucy’s Last Chance

  A Moonshire bay Small Town Romance

  Laina Turner

  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 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Thanks For Reading

  About the Author

  Also By Laina Turner (and L.C. Turner)

  Chapter 1

  “Thank you for a great class and enjoy your day, everyone. Don’t forget to drink plenty of water. Namaste,” Lucy Cartwright said as she dismissed her last yoga class of the morning.

  People filed out of the room and Lucy chitchatted with a few of her regulars as she mopped the floor. Then she shut the lights off and walked out into the lobby where everyone had left… except Brandt Holden.

  Brandt Holden was the mayor of Moonshire Bay. Lucy had known him almost the entire time she’d lived in Moonshire. He had been after her for the last few months. Not only was she starting to run out of excuses, but it was getting increasingly hard to say no to that face and those dimples. Yes, those dimples were enough to melt a woman. Even one such as herself, who had sworn off men. Lucy had given up on relationships, given up on love—her focus was her yoga studio—but that didn’t stop her from noticing how attractive he was. You would have to be dead not to notice, she thought.

  Lucy sighed, and refrained from rolling her eyes as she wondered what he wanted today.

  Brandt was a tad over six feet, black hair threaded with silver, chocolate brown eyes and the most adorable creases at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Which he did often. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him not smiling. Though that was probably because he was a politician, and even though this was a small town, politics were politics. And then those dimples, which turned his great smile into a wow smile.

  Even sweaty from the hot yoga class he had just finished, he was one of the most attractive men in Moonshire Bay. Most would consider him quite a catch. Lucy just wasn’t interested in catching him or anyone else.

  As she walked up to the counter where he was leaning, she absentmindedly put her hand up to feel how many wisps of her brown hair had come out of the ponytail she normally wore while instructing yoga classes. Feeling quite a few, she gave a half laugh, as there was no way she didn’t look a mess. Why should she care anyway? Maybe if she looked unkempt, he would stop asking her out.

  “What can I help you with, Brandt?”

  “Great class today, Luce.”

  “Thank you,” Lucy said, unable to deny how his shortening of her name to one syllable made her feel.

  No one had ever done that with her name before and it made her feel special. Probably a slick move he’d used countless times before. Lucy waited on the other side of the counter to see what else he had to say.

  This had been their recent routine, him coming to class and then waiting until everyone left so he could talk to her and ask her out. Had he not been one of the first people to join her studio when she opened in Moonshire Bay a few years ago, she would’ve thought he was just coming to get on her good side. But Brandt regularly practiced yoga, faithfully coming every Tuesday and Thursday to the 9:30 class. Built more like a linebacker than a yogi, he had surprising flexibility and was in great shape. It was no wonder the women liked it when he took a spot in the front of the room.

  “Do you have time for coffee this morning?”

  And there it was. At least he was consistent.

  “Sorry, but I have to get cleaned up and get to the bank.”

  “Should I check and verify this with Mr. Carver?”He said with a chuckle.

  “Up to you,” she replied with a shrug.

  After the first few times he’d asked her out, she’d started giving him ridiculous excuses like “I have to wash my dog” or “I need to get in a nap.” It had been fun, playful banter that she’d actually enjoyed even though she wished he’d stop asking. Though she had to give him credit—he was a good sport who never got offended and never stopped trying. A few times, she almost gave in simply based on his persistence, but quickly saw reason. However, today’s excuse was actually real. She did have a meeting at the bank.

  “One of these days, Lucy, one of these days I will wear you down. You won’t be able to resist me forever.” He gave her a wink, grabbed his yoga mat, and headed out the door.

  She locked the door behind him, as she had a shower at the studio and had brought her clothes so she didn’t have to drive all the way home and back into town. She watched him getting into his car feeling a little wistful. She’d been alone for three years now and most of the time enjoyed her freedom, the ability to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, free from criticism. But lately she’d started to miss having someone. She wanted someone to come home to and, frankly, someone to hold her. Not just for sex, but companionship too. Someone who cared and who was there for her.

  She shook her head as his late model BMW pulled out of its spot and headed down Main Street until it was out of sight. Even if she did change her mind one day and decided to date, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone like Brandt. He was nice, but he had political aspirations beyond being the mayor of Moonshire—a fact he’d been very vocal about. Getting involved with a man who was ambitious in the political arena was not something she was willing to do. She’d had enough of being in the spotlight. If she were ever to become involved with someone again, it would need to be with a quiet homebody. Someone who wouldn’t put pressure on her to be someone she wasn’t.

  An hour later, she was headed down the sidewalk on her way to meet with Mr. Carver at the bank. The closer she got, the more nervous she became. It was more nervous excitement than nerves of apprehension.

  She was meeting with Derek Carver of First Lake Credit Union about securing a loan to buy the cutest house right on the edge of town that just happened to be zoned for both commercial and residential use. It had previously been a square-dance studio and the owner had passed away a few years prior. The previous owner’s son, who lived a few states away, was selling it. Lucy hoped it would soon be hers.

  It was perfect. She could hold classes on the first floor and there were living quarters on the second and third floors. It needed some work—well, a lot of work, truth be told—but she was pretty confident that she could get an offer accepted a little below asking price. Then she would have enough money left over to fix it up. It had been on the market for a while, and according to Vivian, the town’s real estate guru, the fact that it needed some updates, combined with the fact that making it an all-commercial property was even more costly, made it less than desirable.

  Vivian had mentioned that due to some weird zoning regulation, the zoning would need to be reconfirmed prior to extending an offer and that might make some people not want to go through the trouble, but to Lucy it was worth it. The building had character, and she loved it. Vivian also told her that in the nine months it
had been on the market there had only been a couple nibbles, so Lucy felt her chances were good. She just had to get the pre-approval letter from the bank, attend a zoning board meeting for their approval, and Vivian would submit the offer.

  The meeting with Mr. Carver went as well as Lucy could have hoped. She was practically bouncing in her seat while she waited on the loan officer to process all of her information. The whole transaction took all of ten minutes.

  Lucy did everything she could not to sprint back to her studio so she could scan in the pre-certification letter and send it to Vivian. As excited as she was, a thought that was constantly present in the back of her mind came forward at the most inopportune time.

  She’d left a brilliant legal career behind, albeit voluntarily. Her family and friends from back home in Detroit kept pressuring her to quit her yoga hobby and return to the real world, as they called it. She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting a career change. Especially after what happened. Losing her job and her husband in one fell swoop was enough to make even the strongest person need a break. This step was drawing her line in the sand that said it wasn’t a break. It was a permanent change. But was she throwing away her talent? Even if she was, did it matter? Wasn’t it her life to live as she pleased?

  Chapter 2

  Shot down again, Brandt thought to himself.

  He’d attended Lucy’s yoga class a couple times a week since she opened, and in that time had come to think of her as a friend. When his last relationship ended and he decided he was ready to get back out there, he wanted to ask Lucy out because he loved her laid-back nature. She was a complete departure from the women he normally dated. And the polar opposite of his ex-wife, for that matter.

  Brandt was normally drawn to powerful women, and while he knew that nice powerful women existed, he hadn’t attracted any of that kind. He had attracted the mean powerful ones, which was why he was currently single and trying to break this pattern.

  In all the years he’d known Lucy through yoga class, her attending Chamber of Commerce events for her business, and the occasional barbecue or party they both got invited to, he’d never seen her be anything but casual and sweet. He’d heard that she’d been an attorney in the city before coming to Moonshire. The town’s rumor mill reported that she was a killer in the courtroom, but he honestly couldn’t believe it. How could this sweet woman who did yoga all day long, promoting peace and serenity, also be a cutthroat attorney?

  What he did know about her was that she had no interest in dating. He was thankful that, when he first asked her out, no gossip had ever circulated about her and any other men in town. But after she shot him down several times, he realized it was not going to be easy to change her mind about dating. It had become a bit of a personal challenge for him to get her to say yes.

  Brandt hated to lose. When he wanted something, he went after it one hundred percent—

  whether it was the construction business he and his brother had taken over from their dad and uncle or running for city council and then mayor. He always achieved his goals when he worked hard for them.

  Now he had his sights set on Lucy—and winning the race for governor next year.

  It was just after three o’clock, and Brandt was sitting at his desk scarfing down the meatloaf special from May’s Café that his assistant, Brenda, had bought him. He heard a knock on his door and saw his brother, Brian, standing there.

  Brandt motioned for him to come in.

  “What brings you in to visit me today, Brother?” Brandt said, and then took another big bite of meatloaf before pushing the to-go container, which was still half-full, off to the side.

  “I think we should buy the Square Dance Showdown building,” Brian jumped right in with his typical direct—or abrasive to those who didn’t know him—manner.

  Brandt frowned. “We already talked about this when it first came on the market and you’re the one who didn’t think we’d get enough return on our investment. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “I may have spoken prematurely. You know what a great location that building is and I’ve been watching it. I talked to the listing agent, and he said it hasn’t gotten much action. Considering he lives an hour away and hasn’t had any open houses or done any marketing, it’s not surprising. If he were my realtor, I’d have fired him by now. But his incompetence might be to our benefit. The owner is putting pressure on him to unload the place before the next tax installment is due. I think we can get it at a steal. So even if we have to hold onto it for a while to maximize our investment, I think we’ll be okay.”

  Brian headed up the family’s construction company. Their dad and uncle had started it out of high school as a handyman company and built it into one of the premier new-home construction companies in the area. Brandt was part owner of Holden Construction, but was mostly hands-off the day-to-day stuff and instead did more of the behind-the-scenes paperwork-shuffling elements. He’d always been more about the books and his brother more about the hands-on work. It was a partnership that suited them both well.

  In the last few years, as the tourist trade had increased in Moonshire Bay and the surrounding areas, they had started dabbling in commercial endeavors. Commercial real estate was a much riskier business—it often required a bigger capital infusion and a longer wait for return on investment. Brandt was the more cautious of the two when it came to taking on new projects.

  “Brian, even if we can get a good deal, what would you propose we turn it into?”

  “I’ve done a walk-through at the place and it needs a lot of work. Plus, to turn it into viable commercial space, it would need to be reconfigured. The building is not worth the money to reconfigure. I propose we demolish it and rebuild a more modern commercial building. That property has slowly gone up in value over the last few years. I believe it will keep going up in value and we would be able to get top dollar to rent the space or to sell. This would be more of a longer-term investment than we’re used to, which I realize isn’t our normal strategy, but I think this property is worth it.”

  Brandt paused. He trusted his brother’s judgment implicitly when it came to building and property value on the residential side—they both had experience in that area—but Brandt knew that commercial real estate could be fickle.

  “Do you think we’re in a position to invest that kind of money into something we won’t see a return on for a while?”

  Brian nodded. “I have a good feeling about this. It could take our business to the next level, and to really grow in this area we need to expand what we do. Plus, the town needs more commercial space to attract more businesses.”

  Brandt agreed with that. He knew that sometimes you had to take a risk for a reward, and his goal, along with Brian’s, was to make their dad and uncle proud by growing the company.

  “Then I say let’s go for it. It’s only money, right?” Brandt grinned. “What do you need from me?”

  “There’s a bit of a zoning issue. I don’t think it will be a problem, but that’s your area of expertise,” Brian said. “It’s currently mixed-use zoning, dual residential and commercial, because Mrs. Foster petitioned the zoning committee ten years ago, after her husband passed away, so she could live above the studio. Before that it was zoned commercial, but I think they took pity on her and made it what it is today.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be a big deal, especially if historically it was zoned commercial,” Brandt said.

  Brian shrugged his shoulders but had a concerned look on his face. “I didn’t think so either, until I did some digging. Even though the house is in disrepair, it was apparently designed by some obscure niche architect who grew up in Moonshire Bay. He returned after he became famous and designed the house for his mother. When she passed away, it was sold. It turned into a commercial property and then Mrs. Foster had it rezoned to mixed use.”

  “So, you’re saying you’re worried the zoning committee might kick the decision to the historical society, who might want to pr
eserve the building and not tear it down?”

  Brian nodded. “I know that David Harper is fanatical about preserving any relatively important original Moonshire Bay property. I need you to work your magic and get the board to see it really is in the town’s best interest to rezone it as commercial.”

  Now Brandt knew why Brian was concerned, and he had every reason to be. David Harper, who was president of the Historical Society, always voted on the side of conservation whether it made sense or not. There were two properties in the last couple years that the committee had deemed historical for similar reasons. One, the Baxter House, that needed so much work no one could afford to fix it up, so it was still sitting empty, languishing and becoming more run-down by the minute and the second which was move-in ready but lacked the character of Baxter House.

  Brandt had lived here all his life and had stayed in Moonshire because he truly did love his town, but he also took a more pragmatic approach. Preserving history was great, but you had to weigh the costs versus the benefits.

  “I’ll poke around and see how important this is from a historical landmark standpoint, so I know how much David will push if it comes to that. Maybe the zoning board will just rule on it without asking them.”

  “Thanks. I really do think this can be a great investment for us.”

  Brandt’s phone rang, so Brian got up and left.