Do Over Read online

  Do Over

  By Mari Carr

  Sometimes once is not enough…

  After twenty-five years of marriage, Faith Wainwright wonders what she’ll do next. Her kids have moved out and sometimes she feels so distant from her husband, Troy.

  Right before their anniversary, Troy gives Faith an unexpected gift: a journey through their hometown to reenact all their “firsts.” Their first date. Their first kiss. And especially the first time they made love—only better.

  Each stop on their tour becomes an opportunity for Faith and Troy to rediscover how explosive their passion can be. Now Faith knows exactly what she’s going to do—Troy, over and over again…

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for purchasing this Carina Press title. Now that we’ve moved past launch month, introduced you to some of the variety of genres we’ll be offering and showcased the talent of the authors we’re acquiring, we’re working to fulfill the mission “Where no great story goes untold” even further.

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  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to M and L, one of the most romantic couples I’ve ever met.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Faith Wainwright felt her mind wandering as she sat in her childhood home, listening to Mother talk about nothing in particular. Her gaze traveled around the living room of the home she’d grown up in. She hadn’t lived in this house in over twenty-five years and yet, the memories made here were vividly etched in her mind. She smiled when she spotted the tick marks on the doorjamb between the living room and the kitchen. A lifetime of initials and dates marking the growth spurts of her and her two sisters were still there.

  Since her husband Troy’s work transfer nearly twelve years ago, she didn’t get to visit her mother as often as she liked. Even though it was only a three-hour drive, real life seemed to limit her opportunities to come back home and lately she’d been feeling homesick. Something she’d never suffered from since she and Troy had packed up the kids and thirteen years’ worth of shit and headed south.

  Of course, she hadn’t had the time to miss her sleepy little hometown during those years. Every moment of them had been filled with work and Little League, proms and high-school graduations. Now both of her kids—and a fair amount of her money—were in college and the home away from home she and Troy had built was empty, quiet. Suddenly she had too much time for homesickness.

  She’d been in a funk ever since they’d packed their youngest up and dropped her off at college. The hierarchy of her world was out of whack—her kids had always come first—and now she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. When Troy suggested this weekend excursion back home, she’d jumped at the chance, hoping the trip would clear her mind, give her some idea of where to go now. And if not, at the very least, she hoped it would distract her from her doldrums for a while.

  “Well, that’s enough about me,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts, and Faith felt guilty for not listening. “I can see your mind is elsewhere. What’s going on with you?”

  “I miss the kids. I’m so lonely.” Faith blurted the words out before she could even think to shield them and the emotion surrounding them.

  “Oh, Faith. I wondered when the empty-nest syndrome would hit you. You took Jackson’s departure for college in stride, never missing a beat.”

  Faith shrugged. “Jenna was still home and God knows she didn’t give me time to miss Jackson, as every spare moment was spent driving her to track meets and volleyball games.”

  “You raised your kids, Faith, and you did a damn good job of it. There’s nothing wrong with missing them, but it’s time you figured out how to take a little time for yourself. And it’s not as if you’re totally alone. You’ve got that big, strapping husband at home there.”

  Faith laughed at her mother’s description of Troy. She’d certainly been lucky in the husband pool. While most forty-three-year-old men were balding and sporting spare tires around the middle, her husband still had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a body most men a decade younger would envy. His job as a construction worker made it easy for him to keep his muscular physique, but Troy helped it along by exercising and eating right. A three-season athlete in high school, he’d passed the competitive spirit along to their children. Playing sports with the kids had kept Troy young and vibrant all these years, and Faith thought he was more handsome now then he’d been when they first started dating.

  “Troy doesn’t seem to be struggling with this like I am,” Faith confessed. “He’s always busy—in and out of work. He’s in the midst of a big project at one of the construction sites and he plays golf on Sundays, fishes in the pond behind our house a couple nights a week to relieve some of the stress of his job. He’s just fine. You know Troy—nothing fazes him.” Her husband was a rock—solid, reliable and so damn steady, she felt like shaking the hell out of him sometimes just to see if anything inside rattled.

  Deborah nodded and said nothing—a sure sign her mother didn’t agree with her assessment.

  “Okay,” Faith said, “let’s have it. What’s wrong with what I just said?”

  “Sometimes it’s so easy to get wrapped up in our own hurt that we miss little signs along the way that show someone else is suffering too.”

  “Troy?” Her loud single-word question was laced with disbelief. When Faith accompanied it with a single snort, her mother simply shook her head.

  “Yes, Troy. That husband of yours sees and feels a hell of a lot more than you give him credit for, Faith.”

  “I’m not saying he’s an insensitive clod, Mom. I’m just saying he’s not as bothered by Jackson and Jenna leaving as I am.”

  “And what would you have him do? Cry inconsolably on the floor for weeks on end? Has Troy ever done that?”

  Faith almost laughed at the thought of Troy in tears. She could only recall two times when she’d seen him choke up a bit and that was when their children were born. “Troy doesn’t cry. He’s a man’s man. Caveman to the core.”

  “So strong men don’t have feelings?”

  Faith shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Troy just handles things differently than me and sometimes,” she paused, trying to put her words together in a way that would make sense, “sometimes I feel alone even when we’re in the same room. Whenever I try to talk to him, I feel like my words are getting mixed up with the hockey announcer’s voice and he doesn’t understand anything I’m saying as a result.”

  “I think he hears and understands more than you—” Deborah’s voice was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

  “Are you expecting c
ompany?” Faith asked.

  Deborah shook her head. “No. Would you do me a favor and get that, dear? My sciatica’s been acting up all morning.”

  Faith stood up, but didn’t move away from her mother. “I didn’t know you were hurting. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just a part of getting older.” Her mother gestured to the front door. “Go on. Don’t worry about me.”

  Faith walked to the front foyer and opened the door, surprised to find Troy waiting on the doorstep. He’d dropped her off at her mother’s house as soon as they rolled into town around noon, promising to return later this evening. He’d made plans to hit the golf course with his dad and a couple of buddies from high school. She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. “That was the quickest eighteen holes in the history of the game. What happened?”

  “Didn’t actually make it to the course. I had a few other errands to run.” He bent down to pick up a duffel bag by his feet. “Go upstairs and put this on. Throw your bathroom bag back in this duffel and meet me in the living room. Fifteen minutes,” he added with a wink. “Not a second longer or I’m coming up to get you.”

  “What on earth are you—”

  “Oh, and no questions.” He handed her the bag, walking past her toward the living room. She watched him place a friendly kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Hiya, Deb. How are you doing?”

  “Troy,” Faith said from the doorway, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Her husband never strayed from a schedule and he’d had this golf date set for weeks.

  “Faith,” her mother said with a grin that let her know whatever was going on, Deborah was privy to it. “Go upstairs and change. You don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Time for what?” Faith asked.

  Troy turned to look at her. “What part of no questions are you struggling with?”

  Faith narrowed her eyes, and then gave in, turning to climb the stairs. However, she made sure to mutter the word “smartass” loud enough for her husband to hear. His chuckle in response drifted to her on the stairs and her temper flashed briefly once more before curiosity took over. What the hell was he up to?

  She walked into her former bedroom—now a guest room—and threw the duffel bag on the bed. Opening it, she was surprised to find Troy’s old letter jacket from high school, a pair of jeans, tennis shoes and a T-shirt that said Carlylse Panthers, their alma mater’s mascot. Her mind raced. Glancing at her watch, she recalled Troy’s comment about fifteen minutes.

  Changing quickly, she went to the bathroom to grab her toiletry bag. Catching a glimpse of herself in the T-shirt and jacket, she was inundated with memories of getting ready for dates with Troy in this very room. Working on instinct, she picked up her hairbrush and quickly pulled her hair back in a high ponytail. Though her hair was shorter now, she could still manage to recreate the same look she’d sported her senior year. She grinned as she shook her head, the ponytail swinging from side to side. Picking up her toiletries, she made it back downstairs with five minutes to spare.

  Troy smiled as she returned to the living room. “You always did look hot in my letter jacket.”

  She giggled, twirling playfully and feeling very much like a teenager once more. “Where did you find it?”

  “It’s been hanging way in the back of a hall closet at my folks’ place all these years. My mom found it a couple of months ago when she was spring cleaning. Called to see if I still wanted it.”

  “Can I ask questions yet?” Faith’s earlier annoyance had dispersed completely and she was anxious to find out what her husband was up to.

  He shook his head. “Not yet.” Turning, Troy said goodbye to her mother before gesturing to the door. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

  As he opened the front door, he grasped her hand and led her to his truck.

  She looked back toward the house as her mother waved to them from the porch. “You kids have fun.”

  Troy surprised her by crossing to the passenger side and opening the car door for her, something he hadn’t done since they were dating. “Oh my,” she teased, “such a gentleman.”

  He placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  As she put on her seatbelt, she spotted a wrapped present in the middle of the bucket seat. Troy hopped in the truck and started it without acknowledging the gift. Pulling out on to the road, Faith bit her tongue for nearly two minutes before her curiosity kicked in.

  “What’s in the box?”

  Troy laughed. “Surprised you were able to hold that question in so long. Must have been painful for you.”

  “Very funny. Is it for me?”

  “Yep,” he said.

  Faith rolled her eyes. “Can I open it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Dammit, Troy. What the heck is going on with you today? I thought we were coming home to visit our parents and hang out with some friends. Next thing I know you’ve kidnapped me from my mom’s house and are tormenting me with pressies I can’t open.”

  He laughed. “I’d hardly call that a kidnapping. You walked to the truck under your own steam. And you can open the present in a few minutes. Just want to be in the right place when you do it.”

  She looked out the window at the familiar streets and tried to determine where his so-called “right place” was. Their hometown wasn’t that big and it seemed to be one of those magical places time never touched. Main Street looked very much as it had when she grew up here, only perhaps a bit better. In the last year or two, the city council had begun a beautification program and all the older historical buildings were getting touch-ups of paint and much-needed repairs.

  As they passed the courthouse and turned left, Troy’s destination became clear. “Carlysle High?”

  He nodded, pulling into the parking lot in front of the school. The last bell for the day had rung and they sat in silence for several moments, watching as all the teens rushed for buses and cars, intent on beginning their weekend rituals.

  When the parking lot was almost completely clear, he turned to her. “Happy anniversary, Faith.”

  Her brows lowered. “Our wedding anniversary isn’t until next Tuesday.”

  He shrugged. “It’s close enough. I wanted to celebrate it with you here.”

  “At the high school?”

  He chuckled. “No, here. In Carlylse. Home.”

  She smiled at his words. “This place hasn’t been home in nearly thirteen years.”

  “It’ll always be home. Too much of our lives happened here for it to be anything else.”

  She nodded, knowing he was right. Then, he picked up the present and she blushed. “I feel terrible. I didn’t get you anything yet.”

  Truth be told, she hadn’t planned on buying him much more than a card. After twenty-five years of marriage, a simple card exchange and dinner out had sort of become their standard routine. There wasn’t too much that either of them really wanted and with two kids in college, spending money on anything frivolous seemed like too much of a waste.

  “You give me plenty, Faith,” he said, tapping her nose playfully, and she had to take a quick breath to fight back the tears at his unexpected, sweet comment. She loved her husband and she knew for a fact that he loved her, but neither of them spoke in flowery phrases. Every night of their lives together, they’d kissed good-night and said the words, “love you,” but after awhile, the meaning behind the words was lost in the rote pattern.

  Looking down, she carefully opened the beautifully wrapped package. Pulling off the lid and digging into the tissue paper, she was surprised to find a photo album. She started to open the cover, but Troy’s hand covered hers.

  “You can only look at the first page,” he said.

  She looked up, the question in her eyes, but he didn’t give her time to voice it.

  “This is only the first stop in our celebration. One page for each place. I’ll tell you when you can turn the page.”

  She looked at h
im for several moments, trying to assimilate this man and this incredibly romantic gesture with the easygoing guy who’d been leaving wet towels on her bathroom floor year after year.

  Opening the photo album to the first page, she saw a picture of her and Troy the night of their senior prom. They hadn’t come to the dance together, but they’d certainly left the gym hand in hand. His original date had come down with the flu, canceling the morning of. She’d come with Travis Scottsdale, her first semi-serious boyfriend and asshole of the century. Ten minutes after arriving at the dance, he told her he wanted to break up with her, leaving her sitting alone while he proceeded to make out in the corner with Amber Cooper.

  “Oh my gosh. Look at us. We’re so young.”

  “And sweaty,” Troy joked. “We danced our asses off that night.”

  “It didn’t help that the AC in the gym didn’t work.” Faith grinned at the memory.

  “Must’ve been at least a hundred degrees in there.”

  Faith looked back at the photograph. “Where did you get this picture? I’ve never seen it.”

  “It was in the pocket of that letter jacket. I can’t remember exactly where I got it. I think Judy Hayes gave it to me a couple weeks after the dance. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to pass it along to you.”

  “And obviously you forgot.” Forgetting little things was a special talent of Troy’s. She always had to remind him it was garbage day or to stop on the way home from work to pick up the dry cleaning.

  Troy shrugged. “I was a teenage boy falling in love for the first time. Believe me, I was not about to give up that picture. I looked at it all the time.”

  This time, she couldn’t hold back the tears his kind words provoked.

  “Troy,” she whispered.

  He bent forward. “Kiss me,” he murmured. Their lips touched. They’d kissed a million and twelve times in their lives, but this kiss, gentle and sweet and innocent, reminded her of their first. It was in this parking lot after the dance and she could still remember the excitement she felt when Troy Wainwright offered her a ride home. They’d gotten into his car and before he started the engine, he’d turned to her and said the exact same words.