Free The Good Girl's Second Chance (The Bravos Of Justice Creek 2) by Christine Rimmer

“Yeah, I was.”
    “But I can’t see why you would be, not after the way your life’s worked out.”
    “There’s more. And you need to hear it.”
    She
needed
to hear it? She almost asked him why, but then decided that the whys could wait. “All right...”
    “Dyslexia is often genetic.”
    She frowned. “So you’re telling me that Annabelle is dyslexic?”
    “No. So far, Annabelle shows none of the signs. Already, she can recognize her alphabet and sound out simple words. But you should know that any child of mine could possibly be dyslexic.”
    She
should know? It was an odd way to phrase it.
    And he still had more to say. “I plan to be proactive. If a kid of mine showed signs of dyslexia, I would be on it, arranging for early testing, providing alternative learning systems and support, working with the school so everyone’s on the same page about what needs to be done. If one of my kids was dyslexic, I would see to it that he didn’t have to go through the crap I went through. I would make sure any kid of mine never had to feel stupid and incompetent and lag way behind the learning curve.” He tipped his head then and asked with wry good humor, “You still with me, Chloe?”
    “Absolutely. Yes. And I’m so sorry, Quinn. That you felt stupid and incompetent when you were little. No child should have to feel that way.”
    “I got past it.”
    “That doesn’t make it right.” At his chuckle, she chided, “It’s nothing to joke about, Quinn.”
    He shrugged. “Tell me something.”
    She had that odd feeling again; there was more going on here than she was picking up. “Of course.”
    He let go of her hand, reached for his coffee—and said just what she’d been thinking. “Do you have any clue why I’m laying all this on you?”
    She watched him take a sip. “Whatever your reasons, I have to say it’s really nice to have a guy just sit right down and talk to me about the toughest things. It’s rare.”
    “Right.” He set the cup down again and rolled one of his unbuttoned cuffs to the elbow. “It’s what women love. A guy who won’t shut up...”
    “I don’t know about ‘women.’ But I know what
I
like. And you telling me about what matters to you, about what made you who you are? I do like that. A lot.”
    “Well, all right.” He rolled the other cuff. She watched him, admiring the hard shape of his arms, thick with muscle, roped with tendons, dusted with light brown hair, nicked here and there with small white ridges of scar tissue. He went on, “But I do have a reason for loading you up with way more info than you asked for.”
    “And I keep trying to make you see that you don’t
need
a reason.”
    He slanted her a teasing look. “Got that.”
    A low laugh escaped her. “Well, okay, then. I get it. You’re trying to tell me the reason—so go ahead. I’m ready for it.”
    “You sure?”
    She groaned and executed a major eye roll. “Will you
please
stop teasing me?”
    Now he looked at her so steadily, a look that made her warm all over, especially down in the center of her. “All right.” And then, just like that, he said, “I want to marry you, Chloe.”

Chapter Five
    Q uinn wasn’t finished. “I want to build a life with you, have kids with you. Like I said, I’m a guy who follows my intuition, a guy who has trouble sounding out a word—but also a guy who gets the big picture. And once I know what I want, I go for it. I want you, Chloe, for my wife. I want you for my little girl, too, because I know you’ll be the mother Annabelle needs.”
    Chloe just stared at him. Words? They’d completely deserted her.
    He put up a hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything now. All you have to do is take your time. Think it over. And you should know the kids aren’t a deal breaker for me. I want more. But if you don’t, I can live with that. Annabelle will be enough.”
    “I, um...” She had no idea what to say next.
    That didn’t seem to bother him. He