Second Chance at Love (The MacKenna Born & Bred Trilogy) by Tara Paradise Page B

worsening,
Nicholas literally had to break down his bedroom door one night because he'd
barricaded himself inside and wouldn't speak to anyone. Not even to Diana. When
she'd finally gotten him to open up and talk, she was horrified by what he had
to say. He had no reason left to live. He wanted to kill himself. To stick a
gun in his mouth and just end it. His depression was so severe that she forced
him to seek treatment. And threatened to take him to a psychiatric hospital if
he didn't.
    Luckily, therapy seemed to help, at least enough that he
stopped talking about committing suicide, and began to function more normally.
By late August, he went back to Harvard to attend graduate school. He had begun
the healing process, but he was a long way from being emotionally healthy. Her
son, her beautiful boy, had never been the same. To this day, it had changed
him in a way that hurt Diana's heart, and made her sad to even think about it.
    “I just wanted you to know that, darling. That I wish things
would have worked out differently, and that I'm sorry for what you went
through. I can only imagine what it was like for you.” She didn't want to pry,
so she decided to leave it at that. On a more cheerful note, she added,”Could
you pass the celery, please?”
    Brooke did, and grabbed a tomato for herself and went to
work. She sliced quickly and competently, Diana noticed, and had to admit that
she was impressed.
    “How did you learn to use a knife like that?” she asked.
    “I don't know, really” Brooke responded. “I can't claim to
be a master chef or anything, but I, too, can find my way around a kitchen.”
Diana smiled as she started on the carrots. “I'm pretty impressive with a
scalpel, too,” Brooke added, teasingly. They were laughing together when the
men piled into the kitchen. All of them.
    “Well, hello beautiful.” Chase said, planting a kiss on
Brooke's lips. He took a seat on the opposite side of his mother, because it
was closest to the food. He snagged a cucumber and bit into it. Seth leaned
against the counter next to Brooke, and popped a couple of olives into his
mouth. Logan stood on the other side of the island near the range, dipping a
piece of bread into his mother's marinara sauce.
    “I would scold them all for spoiling their appetites before
dinner, but it wouldn't do any good,” Diana said.
    “Because they won't listen anyway?” Brooke wanted to know.
    “There's that,” she agreed, “but mostly because nothing
ruins their appetites.” Brooke laughed, a light coming alive in her eyes. Logan
noticed it, and thought that she looked genuinely happy at that moment. No
sadness, only joy. It looked good on her.
    “Where's your father?” Diana asked, looking between the
three of them.
    “He fell asleep reading in the recliner,” Seth informed her.
“It sucks getting old,” he added. Brooke was just putting the last of the
vegetables into the salad bowl when the timer on the oven sounded.
    “Looks like dinner's ready,” Diana said, getting up from her
chair. “Logan, sweetie, would you take the ziti out of the oven? I'll go wake
your father.” She disappeared through the kitchen entryway.
    Brooke watched Logan as he lifted the baking dish out of the
oven and turned to place it on top of the range. It was so ridiculously hot
that Brooke could feel the heat emanating from it. He cursed, and nearly
dropped it onto the counter. Luckily, he had it set down nearly all the way,
and it made only a loud thud as he let one side go. Tossing the pot holders
onto the counter, he cursed again as he nursed the fingertips on his right
hand. Brooke jumped up from her chair and rushed to the other side of the
island.
    “Let me see,” she said, reaching for his hand.
    “It's fine,” Logan mumbled. “Just a little burn.”
    “Well, we need to get it under the cool water, quickly.” She
tugged on his hand, pulling him gently toward the sink. Turning on the cold
tap, she shoved Logan's fingers under the