“Why?”
He shrugged. “There’ll never be another like him.” He turned and smiled. “I bred kids, not dogs, and I have a wild and wonderful collection of granddogs who are all enough for me.”
“Granddogs?” She laughed, but almost instantly her smile faded as the words hit her heart and she remembered her mission. He’d fathered…more kids than he knew. She swallowed and inched away from the pictures and him, knowing the time had come.
“Your whole family is just…” She shook her head. “Amazing.”
“Credit to Annie,” he said, walking toward the bar. “How about a nightcap? One little Jameson’s, so we can toast…” He waited a long moment, then turned to look right into her eyes. “Our new relationship.”
For a moment, she felt herself sway. This was it. This was the time. “Our…relationship is about to change,” she whispered.
“I sure hope so.” He angled his head, quiet long enough for her to actually feel her knees weaken and her heart punch her ribs. Long enough for her to realize something was changing in that moment, and she hadn’t yet mentioned Nick.
“You…do?”
He put his hands on her shoulders, inching her imperceptibly closer. “I have a proposal for you.”
“You do?” she repeated, her voice even higher this time.
“I’d like to hire you.”
“Oh, Daniel, I—”
“Nope, hear me out. Not to do the house, which I couldn’t even fathom. But while we walked through and I heard your ideas, it really got me thinking. I’d like to try this…this change business.”
“Change…business.” Oh, she was bringing change, all right.
“We could start small, with one room.” He started talking faster, as if he sensed she needed convincing. “The living room. It needs the most work, and I think I’m ready to try it. New paint, floor, furniture, drapes. With your help and guidance. We could do it together. It could be fun.”
“Fun.” She stared at him and swallowed.
But he just gave his easy laugh. “Don’t look horrified, Katie. I’m willing to do some work myself and learn about those…what did you call them? Memory tags? How long would something like that take?”
Long enough for her to prepare better. To break the news in a way that maybe wouldn’t wreck him or his family. It might even give them a chance to become friends, to work out a way that they could tell their children with minimal damage.
This gave her the one thing she craved—time. “A few weeks at the most,” she said. That’s all she needed, right?
“And there could be more,” he added.
“More?” She felt the blood drain from her face. “Are you suggesting more than…decorating?”
He took a step closer and reached for her hand, enclosing it in both of his much larger, much stronger ones. The warmth of the sudden contact shocked her, along with the incredibly sincere look in his eyes. “I am.”
She managed a slow, shuddering breath, sensing where this was going. And wishing the situation were different. Because if she hadn’t had a bombshell to drop on him, this was the first and only time she could imagine even considering a date with another man. Not too much more, but someone to go to dinner with, someone to talk to, maybe, just maybe…kiss good night.
A sudden longing gripped her, constricting her throat and stomach, shocking her with the force of it. She was so hungry for this, she could practically taste that first kiss, and if that wasn’t the stupidest, craziest, most wrong thing in the world, she didn’t know what was.
Nico had been gone only two years, but he’d been sick for almost four years before that. It had been so, so long since someone…
No. Never. Not with Daniel, not with anyone, not with this ticking bomb hanging over her head. “I’m not ready for that.”
He added some pressure to her hand. “I’ll never be ready, Katie. I’ll never, ever be ready to let go and try again.”
“Then what are you asking? Because something tells me you want more than new paint and furniture in your living room.”
He smiled. “As I told you, I’m the world’s worst date. All I want to do is relive every moment of my marriage, from day one to the last.”
She couldn’t help letting out a soft, understanding laugh. “In painful detail. I hear you. That’s my go-to topic, which I imagine would turn off every man.”
“Every man except me.”
She frowned. “You want to talk about Nico?”
“And Annie. At great length. In excruciating detail. Because I’ll listen to every word you have to say about him, and I know you’d do the same. No expectations, no disappointments.”
“So what exactly are you proposing?”
“I’m proposing we redecorate one room and spend the time together with a simple rule: There’s no limit to the talk of our dearly departed spouses.”
For a long moment, she didn’t say a word.
“Should I sweeten the deal?” he asked, lifting his brows. “You can spend all the time you want with Goldie.”
That made her drop her head back and laugh. “You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Kilcannon.”
“It’s a win for everyone,” he said. “I get a new room that I can see I desperately need, and we both get the sympathetic company we also desperately need.”
But best of all, she’d get a few more weeks, to develop a trusting relationship with him and let him see into her past, so that when she did gently and tenderly tell him about Nick, he’d understand why it happened the way it had.
He broke into that slow, sweet smile she remembered so well from college. “You’re thinking about it,” he said.
“Seriously thinking about it.”
He let go of her hand and took one step back to his bar, turning to let her stand there and decide. While she did, he poured two small shot glasses of amber-gold liquid with great but simple ceremony. After putting the glass topper back on the decanter, he lifted the two glasses and offered one to her, a questioning look on his face.
Still silent, she took the glass and held it while he tapped the crystal and made it ding.
“To jigsaw puzzles.”
She frowned, a wisp of a memory pulling at her chest. “Jigsaw puzzles?”
“When we are done, I’ll have a new living room. And I will have the full picture of the puzzle that was your life with Nico, and you will have mine with Annie. You remember telling me that people had certain puzzle pieces they belonged next to in that great big jigsaw of life?”
“Yes, I do. Nico said that.”
“I never forgot that,” he told her. “And now my puzzle is complete, and so is yours, and this way, we can sit back and admire each other’s handiwork. And that room can be cleared of memory tags, and you have a new client. What do you say?”
“I say…” Not what she’d come into this room intending to say. But she wasn’t ready. She needed time. Just a little more time. “Here’s to jigsaw puzzles.”
They toasted again, and each tossed back the shot, the hot, smooth liquid numbing her throat and silencing the secret she would keep for a little bit longer.
Chapter Seven
Pinterest? “What fresh new hell is this?”
Rusty didn’t answer Daniel’s muttered question. In fact, he barely lifted his head from the living room hearth, regardless of the fact that it was too early in the day for Daniel to start a warm fire. It was also too early in the day for Daniel to learn a new app on his tablet.
He perched on the edge of the sofa, squinting at the instructions on the screen, angling the device as if better light would explain how to open an account he didn’t want. Couldn’t she tear pictures out of a magazine? Wouldn’t that be easier than…Pinterest?
He tapped the first button he saw and suddenly the page filled with pictures of sofas, bookshelves, and quaintly painted furniture. And a wedding dress. And a Christmas wreath. And…was that a dog on a sled?
“God, I hate technology.”
“Y
ou sound like an old man, Dad.” Darcy’s voice floated into the room right before she did, with little Kookie steps behind. Without so much as a good morning, his youngest daughter took the tablet out of his hands with that air of authority that anyone under forty had when it came to technology. “What do you need?”
“A teenager or my mother, the only people I know who use…Pinterest.”
She looked from the screen to him, brows drawn. “Pinterest? You looking for new recipes for Sunday-night dinners? And stop the rotation of pot roast, meat loaf, and baked ham?”
“You joke about my lack of cooking skills, but I notice you all show up to eat it.”
“We’re here for the Bloody Marys and good company.” She grinned and plopped onto the sofa, studying the tablet while Kookie cuddled up next to Rusty by the fireplace.
“Katie wants me to open an account so she can share ideas with me on my…board. Do I have a board?”
She gave him a totally unsubtle side-eye. “Ideas for…” She lifted her brow. “Or don’t I want to know?”
“Decorating,” he said simply, knowing her overactive imagination wouldn’t stop at that even if he tried to convince her otherwise.
“Oh. I see.” She smiled and returned to the screen. “You somehow managed to get on Gramma Finnie’s account. Let me set one up for you.” She put her feet on the coffee table and started tapping.
Happy to relinquish the task, he sat on the sofa next to her, picking up his coffee cup and the list he’d been making for his lunch and day of shopping with Katie.
“Okay, you need a password.” She held out the tablet. “I won’t look.”
“I don’t care if you know the password. Just make it something I can remember.”
“Like…Katie and Daniel decorate?” She gave a dirty laugh.
“How about ‘jigsaw puzzle’ but no space? I’ll remember that.”
“Jigsaw puzzle? What does that mean?”
“It’s an inside joke I have with Katie.”
“An inside joke, huh? Now I see.”
“No, you don’t, but I can wait while you tear out of the house and over to the kennels to share this tidbit with your siblings.”
She grinned. “I’ll tell them later.”
Oh, he bet she would. He could already hear it.
They have an inside joke!
It must be serious.
I bet they’re doing more than decorating the living room.
“What’s so funny, Dad?”
“Am I laughing?”
“The low secret Dad chuckle,” she explained.
He looked over at her, letting his gaze rest on his youngest, and some might say fairest, offspring. Although he couldn’t possibly play favorites, each of his kids had something special, unique, and dear to him. Darcy cracked him up. “You always make me laugh, Darce.”
“But I didn’t say anything funny.” She narrowed her eyes, skeptical and intense. “Maybe you’re happy.”
“Do I have a Pinterest account? Can you find something called a board? That’ll make me happy.”
Smiling, she nodded. “You do. DSKilcannon6, password jigsawpuzzle with no space.” She tapped the screen again. “Anything else?”
“Find a secret or private shared board with Katie? Does that sound right?”
She bit her lip and looked up at him. “That sounds promising.”
He shook his head, reaching for the tablet. “Thank you for the tech assist.”
She didn’t give up the device, though. “One sec and I’ll find it.” She tapped the screen some more and studied some pictures, her smile fading fast. “You’re not really thinking about doing this, are you?”
“Doing what?” He came closer to look over her shoulder.
“This…farmhouse flair with a twist of coastal chic.” She scrunched up her expression and gestured to the room. “In here?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Taking the tablet, he scanned the pictures Katie had promised to send. Everything was very…soft. Casual. Blue and easy and clean. “I kind of like it, don’t you?”
“If you’re planning a big reveal on HGTV.”
“What’s wrong with that? Isn’t a makeover the whole idea of hiring an interior designer to update a room?”
She looked back at the tablet. “And what’s this file that says ‘other rooms’ on it?”
“She said if she saw things that made sense for the guest room or even my bedroom, she’d put them in a file, but we’re only going to do the living room for now.”
She threw her arms over the back of the sofa as if she could physically prevent it from being moved. “You’re not really going to change this, though, are you?”
“Weren’t you listening when I told you I hired Katie?”
“We all figured it was a ruse to cover your obvious attraction to the woman.”
“A ruse? Do you know me? I don’t ruse.”
“No? What do you call it when you suggest I rent a certain apartment with the world’s hottest landlord? Or that Liam offer up his favorite dog to the woman he’s crushed on for years? Or that Aidan and Beck figure out a way to ‘share’ a dog? Dad, you’re a master of the ruse.”
Maybe he was. “Well, this isn’t anything like that. We are redecorating my living room.”
“Why?”
He gestured with two hands, as if taking one look around would speak for him.
“It’s perfect the way it is,” she insisted.
“It’s out of date, faded, clumsy, dark, and…there’s no focal point.”
“Excuse me while I roll my eyes.”
“Roll all you want, but you know what’s really funny? That it’s fine if you think we’re cooking up some hanky-panky, but if she actually wants to change out the furniture, you have an issue.”
“Hanky-panky? Who says that?”
“The same people who say ‘ruse.’”
She laughed. “Just call it dating, Dad. And we—your children, I mean—are one hundred percent behind you having a nice lady to have dinner with and maybe breakfast, if you catch my drift.”
He felt a slow heat in his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I’m still your father, Darcy Kilcannon. And that drift is not welcome.”
Her eyes shuttered at the chastisement, and she nodded quickly. “Sorry. But this room? You can’t change the living room. It’s like a…”
“Museum,” he finished.
“Of memories.”
He sighed, knowing exactly how she felt. “Some of them, not all, need to go.”
“Go where?”
“To…wherever old things go to make room for new ones.”
She searched his face, silent for a long time, letting their joking stop as her expression grew serious. “Mom decorated this room,” she finally said.
“She decorated every inch of this house,” he replied. “Some of the furniture is fifteen or twenty years old. That coffee table you just casually put your feet on, for instance, was purchased when Pru was born because its predecessor had sharp corners that could hurt our first grandchild’s mouth.”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what, Darcy?” he asked. “We can get a new baby-friendly coffee table that isn’t fourteen years old.”
“But I don’t think you should change it too much,” she said softly, looking away to study the wall of family pictures and portraits. “Mom loved this room. I remember when I was little and I couldn’t sleep, I would come down here at ten or eleven o’clock at night, and you’d be sitting right there, reading the AJVR or some nonsense.”
“Nonsense? The American Journal of Veterinary Research is not nonsense.”
“And Mom would be on the other side of the fire, making lists or petting a foster dog or planning one of our birthday parties, and…” Her voice cracked, along with Daniel’s heart.
He took her hand and pressed it between his. “Darcy, I feel those same things, and they are…” How could he explain it without hurting her? “Holding me back.”
&nb
sp; She exhaled slowly, her shoulders sinking with the breath. “From what?”
“Living.” The word came out before he gave it any thought. “And they are, in some weird way, making me lonely. Lonelier.”
“Oh. Dad.” She squeezed his hand. “Nobody wants you to be lonely.”
“So let me paint and get some new furniture.”
“Okay, okay.” She stood slowly, smiling down at him. “I get it, Dad. I do.”
“Thank you, honey.”
“And I have to go.” She gave a little clap for Kookie. “Let’s go, Kooks. We’re working in town today, and we’re late.”
Daniel set the tablet to the side and stood, his six-two frame towering over his petite daughter. “Darcy, listen to me.”
She finally met his gaze, surprising him that there was a hint of dampness in her usually clear blue eyes. “Yes?”
“I have no intention of getting ‘unlonely’ to the point of wiping away Mom’s memory. You understand that, don’t you?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, then looked at Kookie. “Why won’t she get up?”
He turned to see the little Shih Tzu had climbed higher and was tongue-bathing Rusty’s chest and chin, but the old guy snored right through it. “She’s always had a weakness for Rusty,” he said, only half joking. “She thinks she can have her way with him while he sleeps.”
That was enough to make Darcy smile and walk over to scoop up her pup. “Come on, kiddo. Let sleeping dogs lie, as they say.” She lifted Kookie easily, then paused, leaning over Rusty. “Is he okay?”
“Our morning walk tired him out, I think,” Daniel said, taking a few steps closer to Rusty. “We old guys tucker out easily.”
She gave him a playful smile. “Maybe not when it comes to, uh, decorating.”
“Go,” he said, giving her shoulder a nudge. “If you hurry, you can catch Molly before she starts her rounds, and you can update the betting pool on my dating life.”
“We’re not…” She closed her eyes. “Yeah, okay. I may do that.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest as she walked out. His…what had she called it? Low secret Dad chuckle. And she’d also called him happy.
For the first time in a long while, he kind of was.
Old Dog New Tricks Page 8
