by Beth Ciotta
“More like Christmas,” Daisy said. “What with the treatments—”
They stopped working and locked gazes.
Chloe felt the lemon-yellow walls of their pristine kitchen closing in as she noted the haunted look in the other woman’s eyes. “What wrong with Jerome, Daisy?”
The senior woman pursed her lips, blinked, then poured premeasured ingredients into her own bowl, forking the topping into coarse crumbs. “Let’s talk about what’s right. Early diagnosis and aggressive treatments. A determined streak and a supportive wife. He’s coming along and by Christmas, and the Grace of God, he’ll be fine.”
What could it be? Something serious, but not terminal.
By the Grace of God.
Chloe wanted to press for more details, but it seemed invasive. Heart pounding, she poured the chocolate batter into the paper-lined muffin cups. How long had Devlin been burdened with this knowledge? Why wasn’t the rest of the family aware? “No wonder Devlin’s been so preoccupied.”
“Exactly why my son kept his … affliction a secret. He didn’t want to worry family and friends. He didn’t want panic or pity. The only reason Devlin knows is because he pried it out of his mom. The only reason I know is because I pried it out of Devlin.” Daisy topped the batter with streusel pecan crumbles and sighed. “Jerome’s a proud man.”
Chloe squeezed the woman’s boney shoulder. “He sounds like a thoughtful and courageous man to me,” she said with a kind smile. “On second thought, I can’t wait to meet him.”
Daisy smiled back, and together they slid four muffin pans into the oven.
“My grandson’s trying to honor my son’s wishes by keeping the affliction under wraps. Don’t be angry that he didn’t confide in you, kitten. Trust me, keeping this secret hasn’t been easy. For my grandson or me.”
Secrets. Chloe had never been privy to so many confidences in her life. Although when she thought about it, almost every secret involving a Monroe was based on the desire to save someone else stress or strife. Everyone’s secret was rooted in good intentions. Even the personal secret near and dear to Chloe’s heart. Yes, she preferred to have a doctor’s official confirmation. Yes, she harbored concerns regarding a safe pregnancy. But she was also worried about crushing Monica’s heart and perhaps damaging their friendship. On the other hand, sharing this particular news with Daisy would give the woman something positive to obsess on.
The suffocating walls receded as Chloe’s heart bloomed. Smiling a little, she grasped Daisy’s flour-covered hands and squeezed. “I have a secret, too.”
The woman’s penciled brows rose above the rhinestone-studded rims of her glasses. “Are you going to share?”
“I am.”
“Do I have to keep it quiet?”
“For a little while, yes.”
Grinning, Daisy leaned in and whispered, “Devlin asked you to marry him.”
“No. Not exactly. Not yet. But we are engaged in another joint venture.” Sensing Daisy’s excitement, Chloe pressed her friend’s palm to her belly. “I still need confirmation from the doctor, but, well, I’m pretty sure we’ve got a cupcake in the oven.”
Daisy squealed, then performed a comical happy dance. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah! Strike up the band! Hot diggety dog!”
Chloe laughed.
Daisy jigged. “If anything will give my son more oomph to beat that bastard disease, this is it. A grandchild! But don’t worry,” she said, coming to a winded stop. “I won’t breathe a word until you say it’s okay.”
“At which time, feel free to shout the news from Grenville’s Overlook.” The covered bridge where Devlin had joined Chloe in a leap of faith and sealed their love. “We’ll be right there with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
They would’ve been out of the house and on the road a half an hour sooner if they hadn’t fooled around in the shower, but Rocky had a hard time keeping her hands off of Jayce’s hot and hard body. Her fascination with the man had doubled when he’d opened up to her about his crappy childhood. What did it feel like to grow up knowing you weren’t wanted? How did a kid who’d been born to, not one, but two selfish and addicted parents turn out as compassionate and grounded as Jayce? With such an awful home life, no wonder he’d spent so much time at the Monroes’. Thank God he’d spent so much time at the Monroes’.
Every fiber of Rocky’s being had wanted to hug and hold Jayce, to curse his parents’ monsters, and to bemoan his sad childhood. But Jayce wouldn’t want sympathy. She didn’t have to know him well to know he wouldn’t want her, or anyone else, to feel sorry for him. So she hadn’t coddled and she hadn’t pried. Considering his private nature, she realized it must have cost him dearly to share as much as he had with her. She cherished that confidence … as ugly as it was. And she secretly vowed to brighten Jayce’s day, his life, as much as she could. Getting it on in the shower had seemed like a good start. Or at least a pleasant distraction.
Even though her attraction to Jayce now ran deeper than ever, the physical fascination bordered on obsessive. Whenever he was in her sights, Rocky’s thoughts went straight to sex. Thinking back, she knew even her young-girl crush had been based on thoughts and desires revolving around Jayce’s drop-dead gorgeous face and to-die-for physique. She’d never defined the attraction in those terms, but now that she’d pondered the obvious, an uneasy feeling niggled at her gut. “Do you think I’m shallow?” she blurted while buckling into his car.
“You’re kidding, right?” He slid on his sinfully sexy aviator sunglasses and keyed the ignition. “There’s not a shallow bone in your body.”
“Then what do you call a person who’s totally enamored with another person’s face and body? Don’t let this go to your head, but every time I see you I want to jump your bones.”
“You’re freaking out because you’re hot for me?”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m concerned, a little, about my preoccupation with you and sex.”
“Trying to deduce the problem and failing.”
“All these years I thought I was in love with you.”
“You are in love with me.”
Her stomach fluttered with the probability, but she didn’t want to go there. Not yet. One day at a time. “Arrogant much?” she teased.
“Intuitive.”
“How can I be in love with you when I’ve always been fixated on the physical rather than the intellectual? True love, real love, should be more meaningful, don’t you think? A deeper connection? Intimate knowledge? What makes you tick? What makes you you? I’m talking about the adult you, not the kid you,” she clarified. “What do you do for kicks? What’s your favorite book? Favorite movie? Where do you stand on global warming? Health care? Do you want kids?”
“Yes.”
She blinked. “Yes to…”
“Kids.” He swerved to miss a pothole, then cut her a glance. “You?”
“Sure. Absolutely. Someday. Although I’m not sure how I’d swing being a mom while running the Red Clover. And now that I’m thinking about branching out into interior design, that complicates matters more. Kids are time intensive.” She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. “At least a parent should devote massive time and energy to child rearing. Come to think of it, I’m not sure how I’d manage a marriage, let alone kids.” Mind and heart stuttering, she looked away and focused on the quiet beauty of Thrush Mountain. Way to rush the future, Monroe. “Not that I’m suggesting anything, just hypothesizing. I never minded having guests in my house—renting rooms for a day or week, allowing them the run of the living and dining area—because it was always just me. I’d be as sociable as needed; otherwise I’d do my own thing. But when my thing includes a husband and children…”
How would she maintain privacy in a public setting? How would she handle sex? In the past she’d only indulged in her own home when there were no guests. She couldn’t imagine regulating hot and heavy time with Jayce. She flushed thinking about how he’d pleasured her in her kitchen
. Once the Red Clover was back up and running, there’d be a definite kink in spontaneous adventurous sex. “Would you want to live your private life under the noses of strangers?”
He shot her a look, and even though his gaze was shielded by those glasses, she knew his mind. He would not. “When the time comes, Dash, you’ll figure it out. There’s a solution for every problem.”
Talk about clichés. She grinned. “That your motto for your JB Investigations?”
“Still working on a motto for JBI. And stop undressing me with your eyes.”
“I wasn’t.… Ah. Humor. Ha.”
“If it makes you feel better, I want to jump your bones every time I see you, too. I’m haunted by your beauty and fantasize about that body.”
She ignored a jolt of lust and crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. So we’re both shallow.”
“Give me your hand.”
“Don’t tell me you moonlight as a palm reader?”
“Don’t tell me you’re chicken.”
Rolling her eyes, Rocky interlaced her fingers with Jayce’s, swallowing hard as their warm palms melded. A delicious heat stole up her arm, shooting straight to her heart. The charged silence made her squirm. That’s it? she thought, watching the blurring scenery. He just wanted to hold my hand. Sweet. Hot.
But then he spoke.
“Given my parents’ preoccupation and addiction to sex and alcohol and the fact that they saw me as an inconvenience, I learned early on to fend for myself and to keep my thoughts private. Hungry for love and wary of it at the same time. That’s what makes me tick.”
Rocky’s heart lodged in her throat.
“Nature walks, museums, and working with rescue animals. That’s how I get my kicks. Favorite book? Anything by Raymond Chandler or Robert B. Parker. Favorite movie? A toss-up between The Maltese Falcon and The African Queen.”
A longtime classic movie buff, Rocky had seen both movies and knew the common denominator. “Humphrey Bogart,” she said with a small smile. “Tough guy with a soft heart.”
Jayce squeezed her hand as he turned onto the road leading into Sugar Creek.
Rocky’s blood stirred as he filled her in on a few of his political views. Not because she disagreed, but because she knew what it cost him to share such personal details.
The deeper connection. An intellectual connection. Overwhelming in its intensity. Heartwarming and sexy. As important as his past was to her, she focused on the present. A place where she had some sort of influence. “Here’s the good news,” she said after an animated debate on gun control. “Apparently, I’m as turned on by your brain as I am by your brawn.”
“And I’m a longtime sucker for your ballsy approach to life. Nothing shallow about this attraction, Rocky. Never has been.”
“So the constant fixation on sex?”
“I’m all for it.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Not a candy and flowers kind of guy. Sorry, babe.”
“What kind of guy are you? Should I be worried about my present? Let me guess, a new kitchen gadget? Baking supplies? You seemed awfully fond of my cupcakes,” she said with an ornery grin. She’d been on pins and needles, giddy like a kid at Christmas, since the moment he’d mentioned he’d bought her a gift. Although, honestly, she didn’t care if he was taking her to pick out a new chain saw. Or maybe he’d sprung for a new TV set for her bedroom. Apparently hers was too small and robbing her/them of the ultimate viewing experience. Adam had made the same comment once, not that she’d shared that with Jayce. What was it with guys and big screens? “You know what? Don’t tell me. Surprise me. I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is.”
“Sure you don’t want a hint?” Jayce teased while breaching the town limits.
“Yes. No. Okay. A small hint.”
“Think fur.”
* * *
“Are you serious?”
Rocky gaped at her gift, brow furrowed, hands on hips. Not the reaction he’d hoped for; then again, Jayce had to admit this gift was assumptive. He took the leash from the vet’s assistant, thanked her, and then led the tail-wagging dog outside into the gated front yard.
Rocky followed, looking shell-shocked. He didn’t want to force this, but he would put up a fight. His immediate intentions had merit even if the big picture was selfish. “When I saw the way you interacted with Brewster at the rescue shelter I thought, Here’s a perfect match,” Jayce explained. “He needs a loving home with acreage to run and you’d benefit from a protector. He’s a good dog, Rocky. Loyal and affectionate, according to Mrs. Rush, and from what I’ve witnessed, alert and obedient. I know you feel comfortable living alone in the country, but I’d feel better if you had some security. A watchdog is a good start.”
Rocky stooped down and Brewster, who’d been sitting not so patiently, his butt wiggling with the force of his wagging tail, moved forward and greeted her with gentle kisses. “So what?” Rocky asked, petting the mutt’s sleek coat. “He’ll lick an intruder to death?”
Jayce smiled down at the pair. “Brewster’s a Lab-shepherd mix. Highly intelligent. With proper training he’ll make an effective guard. Trust me.” When Rocky didn’t respond, Jayce plowed on. “He’s approximately two years old, past the stage of destructive chewing, housebroken. If there’s ever an issue with a guest being allergic, I’ll take him for however long.”
“Why not take him period?” she asked, still focused on Brewster’s brown-eyed gaze. “You obviously have a weakness for animals and now that you’re not living in the city…”
“Like I said, you seemed the perfect match.” Even though Brewster had been good with Jayce, the dog gravitated toward Rocky. Watching the two—head-to-head, Brewster’s paw on her knee, Rocky kneading the dog’s thick neck—made Jayce’s heart swell and thump. “I picked him up yesterday, brought him here to the vet for an overnighter. Grooming and a full checkup. He’s good to go … if you want him.”
“You got me a dog,” she said in a disbelieving voice.
“Did I screw up here?”
She stood and finally met Jayce’s gaze, tears shining in her river-blue eyes. “I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid.”
“Shiloh. Great dog.” He remembered the golden retriever well. He’d wanted a dog just like her. Then any dog at all. His parents had nixed that wish like so many others.
“It’ll be a huge adjustment.”
“I’ll help.” He tugged on Rocky’s braid. God, he loved her braids. “So did I screw up or score?”
She smiled then, wrapped her arms around his neck, and felled him with a fierce embrace. “You knocked it out of the park, Bello.”
* * *
Rocky couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this giddy. “Giddy” so rarely applied to her mood, she almost mistook the dizzy elation for a panic attack. She still hadn’t put two and two together when Jayce had pulled up to the Sugar Creek Animal Clinic. Even when she’d recognized Brewster as the dog she’d been so enamored with at the Pixley Rescue Shelter, she didn’t get that he was her “gift” until Jayce spelled it out.
Her dog.
My dog.
Her pulse had skipped and raced as the notion sank in.
Losing Shiloh, the dog who’d brightened most of Rocky’s childhood, had been so painful, she had shied away from loving and losing a pet again. Plus, she’d been so singular in her determination in making the Red Clover a perfect and profitable inn, she’d never considered the additional responsibility of a dog. It just hadn’t been on her radar, but now that Brewster was in her face, she welcomed him with open arms. “How could anyone abandon such a wonderful dog?” Rocky asked, twisting around to stare at her new best friend, who was sitting in the middle of Jayce’s backseat looking regal and cute as hell.
“People abandon pets all the time,” Jayce said while driving toward his house. “Lack of room. Lack of time. Economics. There are valid reasons to surrender an animal. What I can’t stomach is neglect or mistreatment.”
&nbs
p; Rocky glanced at the man who’d suffered his own brand of neglect, her mind traveling down ugly roads. Had her parents been aware of his god-awful home life? Had Dev? She barely remembered Joe and Angie Bello, but she remembered the night they died. A horrible car crash. And she remembered the weeks after when her own dad had taken a distraught Jayce under his wing. Thinking back and knowing what she knew now, she was surprised at how affected Jayce had been by the loss. His compassion must know no bounds.
“What’s wrong?”
Rocky blinked. “What?”
“You look sad.”
“Preoccupied.” She shook off the past and focused back on Brewster. “Not that I doubt your training abilities, but I can’t imagine this dog attacking anyone. He looks more like a teddy bear than Cujo.” Mostly he was black, with small patches of brown on his chest and paws. One ear stood straight up, and one flopped halfway over. Half black Lab, half German shepherd, he was fairly large but a little on the skinny side. His big moony eyes killed her, and she’d swear he had a permanent smile on his snout.
“At the very least he’ll alert you to someone’s presence, maybe scare off an unwanted visitor.”
“As in Billy Burke? I really think that was a freaky onetime deal, Jayce. If he’s stalking anyone, I’m beginning to think it’s Tasha. Did I mention she got several texts during our emergency Cupcake meeting? She looked annoyed. And then who was waiting outside for her? Billy.”
“What would you think of having an alarm system installed?”
“I think it would be inconvenient with paying guests coming and going at all hours.”
“I’d like to rig the grounds with motion-detector lighting and some security cams.”
“I run a bed-and-breakfast, Jayce, not a prison. No.” Rocky reached over the seat and scratched Brewster’s chin. “Thanks to you, I’ve got a watchdog now. And there’s always my meat mallet as backup.”
“We’ll revisit this later,” Jayce said while pulling into his driveway.
“When did you become such a worrywart?”
“The day I fell for you.”
