Dare Me Again (Angel Fire Falls Book 2)

by Shelly Alexander

  Every good business decision Elliott had made for the resort felt like a victory he’d fought and won for his family. He hadn’t spent a lot of time slapping himself on the back for those hard-won victories. He’d still felt like a fraud because of the secrets he’d kept from his dad and brothers.

  Truth be told, he’d felt more pride over his accomplishments at the resort than he ever had at his firm in California.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Elliott stood. “I’ve got a mess to deal with in the garage. And I’ve got a lot of decisions to make for my life. This time, I promise to keep you in the loop.”

  He was going to deal with Collins and Mick. But first, Elliott was going after the woman he loved.

  “A one-way ticket, please.” Rebel stepped up to the ticket window with Rem at her side. The ferry terminal wasn’t busy, since the tourist season was all but over, so there was no waiting. No scrambling for a spot on the small ferry that would take her back to the mainland so she could be on her way.

  Nothing to stop her from leaving Angel Fire Falls. For good this time.

  Sadness sliced through her to the bone.

  After Elliott caught her trying to sneak away again, she’d made sure to be on the next shuttle departing the Remington. A person knew a relationship was over when one of them told the other to get lost on the next bus out of town.

  Or when one left another Dear John letter instead of breaking things off in person.

  He’d hate her forever.

  She couldn’t blame him.

  But it had been the right thing to do because they both deserved better than an empty life together because of his job and her insecurities.

  Mabel McGill’s penciled brow slowly arched. “I thought you were going to be working on the island for a few more weeks?”

  Rebel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It didn’t work out, so I’m going home . . .” Portland didn’t seem like home anymore. Honestly, it never really had. Fate had landed her there, and she’d stayed because of her circumstances. “I’m going back to Portland sooner than expected.”

  Mabel took her money and slid a ticket across the counter. “Need me to deliver any notes this time, hon?”

  Ouch.

  Mabel hadn’t meant it as a slight, but saying it out loud made it so real. And so much more painful.

  Rebel shook her head and picked up the ticket. “No need.”

  Her heart stuttered, and she swallowed back the burn in her throat.

  Mabel studied her. “The ferry is delayed for a bit. Make yourself comfortable on one of the benches.” She closed the window and picked up what looked like a handset for a two-way radio system. She pressed the button along the side of the device and spoke into it, turning her back to Rebel.

  Back to feeling like it was her against the universe.

  She settled onto a bench and snapped a picture of Rem. Then she uploaded it to Instagram with a caption that said You’re never truly alone with a service dog.

  She sighed heavily and turned to look out over the waves crashing against the rocky coastline. The cold breeze pitched the flags on the bicycles and giant trikes back and forth.

  She’d likely never return to the island because she didn’t have a reason to. But she couldn’t lie. She’d take Bogart in all over again, even though the decision had cost her the camp, media coverage that might’ve attracted donors, and a future relationship with Down Home Dog Food. What kind of dog whisperer would she be if she hadn’t been willing to take in a stray that desperately needed a family?

  Now Bogart had one. The Remingtons looked out for their own, and she had no doubt they’d take great care of him now that he was one of the clan.

  She got up and went back to the ticket window.

  Mabel had put down the two-way and was on the phone. She held up a finger, finishing a conversation with a few inaudible sentences. When she hung up, she opened the window. “Can I help you, hon?”

  “U-um,” Rebel stumbled. “Dr. Shaw has Bogart. He’s been sick, but he’ll be fine.” Rem pressed into her leg. “Elliott Remington is taking him in.”

  Without breaking eye contact, Mabel picked up a deck of cards and began to shuffle. “I see.”

  The zip of the cards made Rebel jump.

  “He doesn’t strike me as a dog person,” Mabel said thoughtfully.

  He hadn’t been.

  “I guess people can change if they have a reason to.” Rebel gave her a timid smile. “Bogart won Elliott’s heart.”

  The cards zipped and purred again. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d give Bogart all the credit. He’s a special little dog, but my guess is you did most of the winning over, which isn’t easy when it comes to the Remington men. They’re heartbreakers.”

  Rebel’s heart was definitely splintered into bits, but she couldn’t fault Elliott for that. “Well.” She took a step back. “I just thought you should know.”

  She went back to holding down the bench and got out her phone.

  She couldn’t dwell on what might’ve been now any more than she could’ve the last time she’d left the island. The grief would swallow her whole.

  Forward. She had to focus on moving her life forward. That strategy had gotten her through tough times in the past, and it would do the same now. Work and serving others through her new training facility would be her lifeline.

  She pulled up the listing of the abandoned shelter and hit “Call” under the real-estate agent’s number.

  Another shuttle pulled up behind her, but she didn’t turn around to look, focusing on the ringing phone line that would bring her to the next step in her life.

  Her screwed-up, empty life.

  She closed her eyes against the sting of hot tears.

  When the agent answered, Rebel decided to take the plunge. Go all in because her career was all she had left.

  She tried to clear the croakiness from her throat. “Hello, I’d . . . I’d like to make an off . . .” She hiccupped back a sob. “An offer on”—hiccup—“one of your listings.”

  “Don’t do it, Rebel,” Elliott said from behind her.

  She spun around on the bench and dropped the phone. It skidded across the concrete floor.

  He stooped to pick up her phone and held it to his ear. “Can you hold, please? It’s a matter of life . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence and took the phone from his ear. “It’s a matter of our life together, so don’t make the offer. Please.”

  “Why not?” She laced her fingers at her waist.

  “Just don’t. You don’t belong in Portland.”

  “I don’t belong anywhere else, Elliott.” Her voice was a plea as she swiped away the wetness under her eyes.

  “Sure you do.” He took a small step toward her. “You belong with me.”

  She shook her head, quick and fast. “I’d be miserable in your world, and I’d hold you back.” She looked down at the dog hair coating her front from lying on the floor to get eye level with the sick service dogs. “Look at me. If I was embarrassed around your boss and Candy, I can only imagine how you would feel. I wouldn’t exactly fit in at your company Christmas party.”

  He took another step, bringing him close enough to touch if she just reached out.

  But she didn’t. She wouldn’t, no matter how much her fingers ached to feel him. It would just make their goodbye even harder.

  “Good, because I’ve never fit in at my company Christmas parties either.” He smiled and took another step.

  “I don’t belong in your world, Elliott.” She said it like it was a plea to get him to understand, because it was true.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, baby.” He took another step closer. “You are my world. Always have been.” He closed the last few steps between them, laid her phone on the bench, and framed her face with his hands.

  The shuttle lumbered over the hill and came to a stop in front of the terminal. The doors whistled as they opened, and out stepped Elliott’s boss, his carbless date, and Mr. Collins.
The camera crew stepped out next and waited while the scrawny kid who’d delivered Rebel to the steps of the Remington the day she arrived struggled with their equipment.

  “Jesus, they’re like a fungus that won’t go away,” Elliott mumbled.

  “There you are,” Collins said with a sniff, walking over with Mick and Candy on his heels. “I’m leaving and shutting down the camp.”

  Rebel couldn’t take any more. “No, I’m leaving. That’s what you wanted, so there’s no reason for you to go.”

  “No one’s going anywhere until I have my say.” Elliott angled his body half in front of hers, like a protective shield. “Mr. Collins, with all due respect, you set our dog whisperer and our resort up to fail. We took this event on at the last minute. We found an outstanding trainer. She’s done an amazing job with no experienced help at her back.” Elliott let it all tumble out at once. “There’s been little to no communication from your company. Ms. Tate didn’t even know there wouldn’t be handlers on-site, and she’s still accomplished more than I thought possible.”

  “Elliott,” Rebel whispered, touching his arm. “Don’t.”

  Apparently, he’d lost his hearing without her knowing it, because her plea didn’t faze him in the least.

  “She did what any humane person with a heart would do, and she rescued a dog who has obviously been through hell, just like the veterans we’re supposed to be helping.” Elliott stepped back and put his arm around her. “Yes, it caused a problem for the camp, but frankly, it’s just one more problem in a long string of problems that started with the way your company has handled this event. Down Home Dog Food didn’t even make sure the dogs were vaccinated properly.”

  Collins’s mouth opened, but then he shut it again.

  “The camera crew came here for an interview. We can either tell them you’re shutting the camp down because of poor management on your part . . .” The way Elliott stressed we was obviously to let Collins know the sponsor wouldn’t be the only one calling the shots when it came to press coverage. Down Home Dog Food would have to take their share of the responsibility. “Or we can explain to them how we’ve overcome one trial after another without giving up, just like our veterans have had to do.”

  Collins listened with pursed lips.

  “Letting Rebel go would be a bigger loss for you than it would be for her.” Elliott motioned to the journalists, who were still by the shuttle sorting through luggage and equipment. “It’s your call, Mr. Collins. But if you keep the camp open and let Rebel stay on as the trainer, I personally guarantee that not one of the campers will leave this island until they’re thoroughly ready and your company is completely satisfied.”

  Elliott glanced at Mick. “No matter how long it takes.” He returned his stare to Collins. “I’d like to suggest you speak to each veteran and ask them about their experience here before making your decision. Because this camp isn’t really about Down Home Dog Food or the Remington. It’s about them.” When he looked at Rebel, his eyes shimmered with passion . . . and so much love that it made her heart soar. “Rebel is the only one who’s kept that in mind.”

  Collins thought for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he said, “Fair enough. I’ll go back to the resort and speak to them.” He strolled over to the camera crew.

  Elliott pulled Rebel tighter against his side. “Mick, the partners don’t have to vote me out, because I’m done at the firm.”

  Mick sputtered out a bunch of words without stringing together a full sentence.

  Candy took a seat on the bench and looked at her nails like she was bored.

  Elliott held up his hand. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but let’s face it. I’ve done my share for you too. I’ve spent years making you look good, not to mention the money I’ve made for the firm and our clients. It’s time for me to do something for myself. This is my home, and I’m staying put.”

  Rebel couldn’t stop a gasp from slipping through her lips.

  “You’re going to give up everything you’ve worked for?” Mick asked, obviously stunned.

  Elliott looked into Rebel’s eyes again. “Nope.” He shook his head decisively. “I’m not. Which is why I’m staying here, because this place and my family are what I’ve been working for the past several months, and it’s where I belong.”

  Rebel shook her head. “I couldn’t let you do that for me ten years ago, and I still can’t.”

  His beautiful green eyes smoothed over her face. “I’m doing it for me too. I realized something. We both need to stop running because of our moms. And we both deserve better than what I’ve got going in San Francisco. I want to be here. With you.”

  Her throat grew thick, and she nodded. “I want that too.”

  Elliott placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  Then he gave Mick a calculated smile. “If you go to bat for me with the partners so they’ll pay back my buy-in”—he nodded to the camera crew—“you can tell the camera crew it’s a contribution so the Remington can build a facility to start a service dog training program on the resort grounds.”

  Rebel tightened her grip around his waist.

  “Imagine how that will have the firm’s phone lines burning up with high-dollar clients.” Elliott glanced at Collins. “I bet his national chain will sign on the dotted line before you even get back to California after you tell the reporter how much you believe in what we’re doing at this camp and give Down Home Dog Food all the credit.”

  Elliott went silent, and Rebel figured it was to give Mick a moment to process the far-reaching implications. Or to calculate his firm’s potential earnings.

  “You really know how to play hardball, don’t you?” Mick asked.

  “I learned to swing for the fences from the best,” Elliott said. “I have every confidence you’ll make the right decision for both of us.”

  He didn’t wait for Mick to respond. He turned his back to block out everyone else and focused on her. It made her feel like the center of his world.

  “I should’ve kept looking for you. I’m so sorry I didn’t, but I’m not letting you go this time. I’m nothing without you.”

  A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek.

  He swiped it away with a thumb and pressed a soft kiss across her lips.

  Then he squinted and looked at the terminal ceiling. “According to my calculations”—he flashed her a dazzling smile that melted her heart—“and I’ve been told I’m pretty good with numbers, my buy-in from the firm, combined with the equity I’ll get out of my apartment when it sells, plus your paycheck from Down Home Dog Food should cover the cost of building a training facility at the Remington.”

  The tears kept coming, but this time they were happy tears.

  He chuckled, kissing them away. “We’ll have to build it far enough away from the main lodge so the barking doesn’t disturb our guests.”

  “As sweet as that is, I . . . I can’t take your money.” She rested her forehead against his chest. “I almost ruined the entire event for the Remington.”

  He placed the side of a forefinger under her chin. His gaze hooked into her when their eyes met.

  “My guess is that by the time we get back to the resort, the campers will have told Collins that you were the only thing holding the camp together. There’s no doubt in my mind your job is still waiting for you if you want it.” Elliott shrugged. “Of course, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to continue with an asshat like Collins.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Or an asshat like me.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “It’s still your money, Elliott. The kind of facility I need will cost a fortune to build from scratch. I wouldn’t feel comfortable sinking your savings into my career. It’s too big a risk.”

  “It’s a risk well worth taking because I believe in you. If your last name becomes Remington, it would be our money.”

  She gasped and went up on her toes to give him a kiss that communicated her approval. “I’ve always liked the name Remington.” />
  “Obviously.” Elliott glanced at Rem. “I vote we spend our money on a custom-designed training facility. I have a brother who can help us out with the project.”

  “You have a brother for everything.” Her arms circled his waist. “Or a dad or a cousin or a sister-in-law. There seems to be a Remington who can help with just about any problem.”

  “True.” He winked. “There’s strength in numbers. So what do you say?” He glanced down at Rem. “You wouldn’t split up Team Rem and Bogart, would you? Because we’re a family.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “You want me and all the rescue dogs I’ll likely pick up along the way?”

  “I want you, the rescues, the picket fence, Rem and Bogart. All of it. I’m selfish that way.” He laid the softest, sweetest kiss on her lips, and she opened for him, running both palms up his back and around his neck. “We can personally escort Dan Morgan to the mainland to pick out another dog at the shelter, because he can’t have mine.”

  When the sexy sound of surrender escaped from the back of her throat, he broke the kiss and smiled down at her with glittering eyes and a smile of victory. “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded. “It is.”

  He hooked his arm around her shoulders and waved to Mabel.

  She put down the cards and opened the window.

  “Thanks for the call, Ms. McGill,” Elliott said.

  “Thank you for coming right over. I couldn’t hold the ferry forever.” She picked up the radio handset and pressed the button, her bright eyes sparkling at Rebel. “All aboard. The ferry will depart momentarily.”

  Rebel’s mouth fell open. Then she let a smile form on her lips, so big and heartfelt that it seeped all the way to her fingers and toes.

  “I couldn’t let you make the same mistake twice, hon,” Mabel said.

  “I’m forever in your debt, Ms. McGill,” Elliott said, molding Rebel to his side.

  She snuggled against him, flattening a palm to his chest. “So am I, Mabel.”

  She smiled as she closed the scratched acrylic window.

  Elliott picked up Rebel’s phone off the bench and handed it to her.