Cold Nose, Warm Heart

by Mara Wells

  “It’s not even lunchtime yet.” Riley finally opened the door. “Caleb, thank you for coming.” She shelved the idea that her Grams was an alcoholic for the moment. A glass of wine a few times per week did not equal substance abuse. Of course, she’d do some research before completely dismissing the hospital’s concerns, but Husband Two, Riley’s grandfather, had been a drinker, and Grams made no secret of her disdain for his overindulgence, especially when his drinking habits led to his early death. Riley’d never known him, but she’d certainly heard plenty from Grams over the years about fighting her (possibly) genetic tendencies.

  “Caleb Donovan!” Grams sat straighter, straightening her hair, straightening the blanket, fussing so much that the Prince jumped off her lap in a snit and positioned himself on top of the TV to keep an eye on the new guests. “Why on Earth are you darkening my door?”

  “Grams, I invited him. He’s here for business.”

  Caleb totally sabotaged her attempt to keep things business casual by dropping a kiss to her cheek, a general greeting in Miami but one that sent her to blushing in a way Grams was sure to notice.

  “Meet Adam St. John. He’s the architect working with me on the project. We brought some plans to show you.” His hand dropped to the small of her back, to that place she was beginning to feel was his, the way he was always touching her there. The way she missed his touch when he wasn’t there. She let herself be guided to a seat beside Grams.

  “An architect! How nice to meet you, Mr. St. John. Forgive me for not standing to greet you. I’m still recovering from a stay in the hospital.” Grams fussed with her blanket, antsy as the Prince after rolling in catnip, before offering her hand, fingers drooping like she expected him to kiss the back of it.

  Adam St. John was possibly one of the tallest people Riley’d ever seen, and Grams had to crane her neck up and up to bat her eyelashes in the helpless-damsel way she sometimes adopted around men. Attractive men. It didn’t matter that Adam was forty years her junior. In Grams’ book, a little flirting was never wasted time.

  “A pleasure.” Adam stooped from his great height to shake Grams’ proffered hand and sat in the chair across the coffee table from the women. Caleb pulled in a dining room chair, angling it between Riley and Adam.

  “Mrs. Carson, I hope you’ll forgive our intrusion.” Caleb crossed an ankle over his knee and leaned forward. “I’m excited to show you both what the plans for the building are.”

  “Please, call me Gloria.” She tucked the blue-and-green crocheted blanket more tightly around her lap. “I suppose a bit of show-and-tell will be diverting. I could use some distraction from the awful things that woman at the hospital said.”

  Caleb paled. “Is everything okay?”

  Before Grams could launch into a tirade, Riley cut her off. “She’s in good health, except for that cut on her head. She’s going to take it easy for a few days, which is why I’m grateful you could come to us.” She was using her placating-guests voice. “Grams and I are both eager to know the fate of the Dorothy.”

  Adam cleared his throat. “It’s nothing dire. Such a beautiful example of Deco architecture! It’s been my pleasure to come up with a design that will preserve the history while still moving residents into the current century.”

  “Nothing wrong with the last century,” Grams sniffed.

  Adam flipped open a laptop and spun it in their direction. “Caleb told me the building is at about half capacity, and we looked into current buying trends. These old Deco buildings—”

  “They aren’t that old,” Grams muttered, squinting at the screen. Riley knew it would be futile to suggest she put on her glasses. Wear them in public? Never!

  Caleb pushed forward, eagerness in his tone. “The point is that many of the buildings were designed as vacation homes. Inadequate closet space.”

  Riley nodded emphatically. What she wouldn’t give for a spacious hall closet or even a small linen nook, a place to store all her shoes in one place. Maybe not on the scale of Sydney’s setup, but the importance of storage should not be underestimated.

  “And typically, one bedroom. Now, the manager’s apartment has two bedrooms while the rest of the building consists of one-bedrooms and studios. At some point, they must’ve renovated. How did they do it?”

  Adam opened up a program, and blueprints appeared on the screen. “They combined a studio and a one bedroom, and that’s what we want to do with the rest of the units. Two bedrooms, rare on the Beach, even more rare in Deco buildings. It will make the place irresistible to new buyers.” He scrolled through plans that made little sense to Riley.

  “I could use another bedroom,” Grams mused. “It’s not a bad idea. How about a second bathroom? Or half bath?”

  “Adam thought of that.” Caleb pointed out the different layouts possible with different combinations of units. His phone buzzed midspeech about making the building ADA-compliant while still preserving its charm.

  “Excuse me.” Caleb checked the caller ID. “I have to take this.” He ducked his head, a finger to one ear, saying, “Give me a minute. I’m just leaving a meeting.”

  Adam scrolled through pages of landscaping plans, talking them through his ideas in a deep voice that sounded a bit how Riley imagined God would sound if he were to call down from the heavens with some architectural opinions. Miniature people walked through lush tropical landscapes. There was a fountain, a lion spitting water into a basin where blue jays bathed. Egrets stalked through the liriope ground cover.

  “It looks the same as it did in my day.” Grams beamed approvingly at the outdoor plans. “How delightful! Show us more!”

  The next screen stole the breath from Riley’s lungs. It was the dog park. Except it wasn’t. A mammoth eyesore of a parking structure filled the entire lot.

  “And here’s the moneymaker,” Adam was saying. “Of course, residents will park for free, but I was able to get about four times more spaces than the building needs into the square footage, which means the city will make money hand over fist so are sure to approve the plans.”

  “Why, that’s quite hideous.” Grams squinted as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Nothing Deco there at all.”

  “We’ll do some plantings around it, help it blend into the neighborhood.” Adam forged ahead like Grams wasn’t raining on every step of his parade.

  “That eyesore isn’t going to blend.” Grams’ voice pitched high into her about-to-launch-a-tirade range.

  Riley didn’t care about the garage. She cared about the dog park. The dog park Caleb had promised. The one they’d been working on. But Fur Haven was most definitely not in the plans. No getting around the facts. She’d slept with a liar.

  She sprung from her seat and flung herself out the front door. Caleb leaned against a wall, phone to his ear. She didn’t care that he was busy.

  “How could you?”

  He held up the wait-a-minute finger.

  Oh no, he didn’t just shush her. Her eyes narrowed, and she contemplated swatting the phone out of his hand. But that would be childish. She did it anyway.

  “Hey!” He scrambled after the phone, picking it up off the carpet and managing a quick “I’ll call you later” before stuffing it in his pocket. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” She was so mad tears sprang to her eyes. Yeah, that was why she wanted to cry. Not because he’d lied to her. Not because she’d fallen for it. At least Aiden had never pretended to be something he wasn’t. “A parking garage? What happened to the dog park? Our Fur Haven?”

  Caleb’s eyes widened. “He showed you those plans?”

  “Duh.” So what if anger made her childish? It wasn’t like she was trying to impress him. “Quite a way to drop the bomb, by the way. Nice touch, stepping out while Adam did your dirty work.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” C
aleb ran a hand over his short hair, ruffling it in a way Riley did not find cute. She didn’t. “Let me explain.”

  Riley crossed her arms over her chest. Aiden had explained a lot of things to her, and it always managed to paint her in the wrong somehow. Being explained to was not her favorite thing, but she gave a curt nod and twirled her hand like go on.

  “Adam did the parking structure first, when I was trying to get the council on board, remember? I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about the dog park yet. That’s all. It’s an oversight. A big oversight on my part. I’m sorry, Riley. I didn’t know he’d show you that part. I was excited about the conversion plans. I wanted to share them with you as soon as possible.”

  Riley rolled her hand again because she was afraid to open her mouth, afraid she’d say something stupid about understanding and forgiving because he really was cute with his contrite face and worried eyes.

  “We can talk to him right now. I also wanted him to see your Grams’ photos. Do you think she’ll show him? He’d love to see how the place used to be, I’m sure, and maybe that will help him with his planning.”

  “Hmm.” Riley wasn’t mad anymore, just cautious. Suspicious. “I almost believe you.”

  “Almost?” Caleb took a step closer to her, then another and another, until he was crowding into her space, crowding her against the wall. He slapped his palms above her head and lowered his face to hers. “Believe this,” he said, and he kissed her.

  He was angry and maybe she was still, too. Their teeth clashed, tongues tangled. It wasn’t like the sweet kisses of that first night together; it was angry and rough, and Riley found herself pressing against him, eager for more.

  Caleb broke the kiss, panting. “We can’t do this in the hallway.”

  Part of Riley didn’t understand why not. She’d never known that part of her before. Nice to meet you, naughty Riley. The other part of her straightened the hem of her T-shirt and cleared her throat. “Right. We should go back.”

  “Back to bed,” Caleb murmured low enough for her to hear, then louder, “We’ll talk to Adam together. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

  But it wasn’t fine.

  “A dog park? I don’t design dog parks.” Adam pulled his computer protectively into his lap.

  “It’s simply another kind of outdoor landscaping.” Riley folded her hands, clasping her fingers tightly enough that they turned white.

  “Those were mock-ups. We’d obviously get a landscape designer on board later in the project.”

  “Can’t you mock up a dog park?” Caleb had squished himself onto the sofa next to Riley. Their thighs touched, and she kept thinking about that kiss in the hallway. And getting back to her place, her bed. Which reminded her that LouLou would need to go out, and the frustration of waiting even those few minutes longer made her twitchy. So she squeezed her palms together and tried to think happy thoughts about frolicking puppies in a brand-new dog park designed just for them.

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Adam slammed his laptop closed, his sharply defined eyebrows drawing together. “We never talked about this.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Caleb leaned forward, arms on knees. “Riley and I did some field research. Show him the list.”

  Riley pulled out her phone and thumbed to the right note. She held it out to Adam, but he waved it away.

  “I’m happy to work on buildings with you, Caleb, but you’re on your own for the dog park.”

  Caleb fell back against sofa. “If that’s the way you feel.”

  “I do.”

  Caleb held out his hand for Adam to shake. “Then we have a deal. You handle the building. I’ll handle the dog park.”

  Adam shook on it and took his leave. The Prince walked him to the door, tail high and twitching at the tip.

  “Touchy thing, isn’t he? I guess architects are like artists, so sensitive.” Grams patted her lap, and the Prince rejoined her.

  “He’s wrong about one thing.” Riley laced her fingers through Caleb’s, done caring if Grams noticed or not.

  “What’s that?” The smile he gave her made her wish Grams already had that spare bedroom. And was deaf or at least gone for the day. Who knew it would be so hard for a woman who lived alone to get some privacy?

  She smiled back. “You’re not on your own.”

  “That’s right.” Grams eyed their joined hands but didn’t comment. A miracle in itself. “You’ve got us. We’ll all work on the dog park with you.”

  “All?” Caleb echoed.

  “Sure.” Grams nodded like it was a done deal. “Me. Patty. Eliza. Riley, of course.”

  “Of course.” Riley grinned. “Sydney’s already helping, calling in a few favors. It’ll be fun.”

  “Fun,” Caleb repeated, apparently stunned into parrot mode.

  “Sure.” Riley stood and pulled him with her. “How hard could it be? Some sod, some equipment, a few flyers.”

  “Aren’t you the one who said we couldn’t do it on our own? That we didn’t know enough? And what do we need flyers for?”

  “For the grand opening.”

  Grams beamed at them. “Halloween is a few weeks away. What a perfect grand opening theme!”

  “Yes!” Riley turned excited eyes to Caleb. “A pet parade. Costumes!”

  Caleb took a shuddering, deep breath. “Whatever you want, Riley.”

  “A Donovan committed to keeping a promise? I like this boy,” Grams declared, shocking Riley into speechlessness. “Now get going, you two. Dog parks don’t build themselves.”

  “No, they don’t!” Caleb laughed and tugged Riley to the door. She followed, lists already writing themselves in her head. Fall-themed décor, local vendors, booths, face painting for kids, snacks for dogs, ample seating for the humans. So many details to get right, but she was the woman for the job. She’d never met a to-do list she couldn’t conquer.

  Chapter 27

  The waves slapped lazily against the fiberglass hull of Grandpa William’s Super Sport. Caleb powered the boat out to sea, keeping within sight of land but far enough that Lance wouldn’t be able to jump ship and swim for shore. Right now, both Grandpa William and Lance were being civil, each sipping his drink of choice and staring out at the horizon as if the other one wasn’t sitting in the deck chair next to him.

  At fifty-five feet, the Super Sport was the smallest of Grandpa William’s boats but the one he took out the most often, usually with a few friends on the pretext of fishing. Today’s agenda was different, but Caleb still went through the ritual of setting up lines off the back of the boat, even though he didn’t bait them and didn’t expect anything to chomp down on an empty hook.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Caleb stretched arms overhead and inhaled the sea air. He really did love being out on the water. The salt spray, the sun, the pelicans diving for a meal. His best memories of growing up were out on this boat, Grandpa William teaching him to steer, how to avoid manatees, how to throw a line, how to pop the top off a beer bottle without an opener.

  “It is.” Grandpa William sipped at his Scotch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Lots of beautiful days lately. Why’d you get us out on the boat today? You know I hate to miss my regular tee time at the golf course.”

  “Can’t we enjoy some family time?” Caleb stalled, rifling through the custom Yeti for a Belgian ale.

  “False pretenses.” Lance chugged back half of his Silver Bullet. “What’s up, little brother? I know you have some kind of master plan. You always do.”

  Caleb held up his hands, a bottle of Orval pale ale dangling between his thumb and forefinger. “There were no false pretenses. Boat, ocean, beer. That’s what I promised you, and you’ve got all three.”

  “You didn’t mention Grandpa William would be here.” Lance’s fingers tapped against his beer can in an impatient rhythm. Not even tw
enty minutes together, and already Caleb could tell Lance was itching to go. He’d always been restless, never one to sit still for long, always on the lookout for a pickup game of basketball or an impromptu race with friends. He’d even convinced Caleb to pretend they were MMA fighters a time or two, a stunt that ended in black eyes and bruises for both of them.

  “Please, you knew it was his boat. When has he ever let us take it out on our own?” Caleb set the boat to autopilot and popped open his Orval. How Lance could drink American lagers, he had no idea. But to each his own, he supposed.

  “I’m sitting right here.” Grandpa William poured himself another finger of Scotch and let out a long sigh. “Do tell us, Caleb, what’s the plan?”

  “Aren’t you suspicious? Can’t I just want to spend some time with you?” Caleb thought about how Riley didn’t need a reason to see Grams. They were in and out of each other’s lives on a daily basis. No need for formal invitations or official reasons. What was it like to have that kind of ease, not to feel as if every meeting needed an agenda and actionable items to justify their time together?

  “Seriously?” Lance snorted and wandered to the deck railing, and he motioned Caleb over with urgent waves of his fingers. “Look, we’ve got dolphins!”

  Two dolphins leapt out of the water in a perfectly synchronized movement that left Caleb feeling like a kid again—the best part of being a kid when the world was filled with these moments of awe.

  “They’re beautiful.” Caleb and Lance stared out over the water, waiting for another glimpse of sleek, gray dolphins, but the pod had apparently already moved on. The wind ruffled the water, creating small white crests and tiny eddies. After a few long moments had passed and no more dolphins came into view, Caleb turned and leaned his back against the railing.

  “Grandpa William, I’ve done some digging into the Dorothy’s finances.” Might as well get it over with so they could all go home.

  “Finally, we get to the point.” Lance propped his elbows on the railing and lifted his chin to catch the sun.