by Mara Wells
“You all set?” Riley approached the table, all smiles, holding hands with her fiancé, Caleb Donovan. The two had built the first Fur Haven, and Fur Haven-in-the-Sky was their special project.
“Ready.” Danielle smiled at Riley. She’d always liked her. Riley’s grandmother was a long-time client of her father’s, and she and Riley had been only a few years apart at Beach High. It was good to see her happy with Caleb. Danielle wondered, briefly, if Knox might attend the grand opening. Her heart pinged at the thought. Of course he wouldn’t. Although he’d been in town for over a year, he hadn’t bothered to look her up. Not that she expected him to. It’d been over a decade after all. Why would he think of her at all? “The new Fur Haven is fantastic. You must be proud.”
Riley’s wide smile grew even wider. “We are. Caleb and I are going to be married here.”
“Congratulations. It sounds perfect.” Danielle could easily picture the ceremony. The park was lovely—healthy grass covered the garage roof, with a variety of palm trees and other plants strategically placed for shade and as demarcation for various parts of the park. Small and large dogs could be separated by a sliding gate that could also be left open. Agility equipment filled one corner of the park, and bone-shaped benches for owners were scattered over the rooftop.
“Thanks.” Riley picked up a branded tennis ball. “Can I take this for LouLou?”
“Help yourself.” Danielle swept her hand to indicate all the Homestretch dog swag on the table. She wasn’t surprised when Riley scooped up a dog treat, too. Riley doted on her little poodle. “I’m sure you have a million things to take care of today.”
“That we do.” Caleb’s easy smile reminded Danielle so much of his older brother that she had to pause and blink back old memories. “Please excuse us. We hope you find homes for all these gorgeous dogs today.”
“Thanks. Me too.” Danielle watched the couple leave, hand in hand, and couldn’t suppress the envy that rose and colored her vision, making Caleb look even more like his brother as he walked away. It wasn’t like she thought of Knox all the time, but it was hard not to with Caleb’s involvement in the dog park.
Of course, she’d thought of calling Knox a few times since she’d learned he was back. It was normal to wonder about an ex, she reassured herself. Totally normal. His meddling Grandpa William had even slipped her Knox’s cell number with a wink when he’d picked up his rescue greyhound from her house after she’d babysat the dog while he was on a cruise. Grandpa William’d come back glowing. She’d thought it was the sunshine, but a few weeks later, she heard he’d asked Riley’s Grams to marry him. The Donovans were all falling in love. Only Knox was left. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was seeing anyone. So what if he was? It was none of her business and hadn’t been in over a decade.
Danielle straightened the flyers and the tablecloth with the Homestretch logo on the front. She stacked the brochures that explained how Homestretch worked—they didn’t have a facility but instead used a network of coordinated foster homes—on both corners of the table and set up the science-fair board behind her with pictures of adopted greyhounds living happily ever after.
“Is that my grandfather?”
Danielle hadn’t heard that voice in fifteen years, but the way her heart sped up, pounding like it would beat through her chest and launch across the table, told her exactly who it was. Knox Donovan. High-school boyfriend, first love, father of the baby she’d lost.
Words froze in her throat, the real reason she hadn’t reached out to him now so obvious. How she’d cried after their last conversation. He’d said maybe it was for the best that she’d lost the baby, that they were really too young for all this. This being their engagement. She’d thrown the ring he’d given her at his head. He’d caught it with his quick reflexes, a move she replayed in her head over and over again for months afterward. He’d sighed and stuck it in his pocket. He’d walked away, and she’d never seen him again. The Marines? He’d rather risk his life than be with her? God, she hadn’t even looked up yet and she was already a mess, all those feelings overwhelming her again, her heart beating so fast now she wouldn’t need to worry about cardio for the day.
“Is it?” His voice again, strained, huskier than she remembered. He cleared his throat, something he used to do before asking a question in class. Was he nervous?
She dragged her eyes up to his. Those Donovan blues all the brothers seemed to have inherited from their grandfather, the ones she’d hoped her own child would have.
She swallowed years of unshed tears and unsaid words. “Yes, your grandfather adopted a greyhound from my rescue. Pops. Have you met him?”
Knox nodded, his military-short hair as thick as it’d been in high school. Why couldn’t he be balding? When she’d thought of him these past few years, and she hated to admit that she had still thought of him, she’d imagined him balding, beer bellied, with late-onset acne. Anything to make him less attractive to her. But no, in the flesh, he was every bit as riveting as her memories painted him. Maybe more so. Damn it.
“Yeah, Pops is quite a character.” Knox’s gaze traveled down her body, eyes lighting with an appreciation she couldn’t bear to see. “You look good, Danielle.”
“Thanks.” Danielle crossed her arms over her chest. She knew it wasn’t true. She was a few pounds—okay to be completely honest, twelve pounds—heavier than she’d been in high school, and she hadn’t been thin in high school. “You too.”
He snorted like she was the one lying. But he did look good to her, tall with military-straight posture he hadn’t had when they were teens. Muscles bulged from under the USMC T-shirt that stretched tight against his defined pecs.
There they stood, looking at each other. She looked. He looked back.
“Been in town long?” she finally forced out of a throat suddenly turned sand-dune dry.
Color crept up his neck, a flush that could be attributed to the warm, humid March air. “A little over a year.” His color deepened, and his thousand-yard stare landed somewhere over her right shoulder. Maybe it wasn’t the heat. Maybe he was realizing that in the past year, of course she’d heard he was back in town. She might not get out much between her work for the rescue and the hours she spent at her dad’s clinic, but plenty of folks reported Knox sightings.
Danielle’d heard he was somehow involved with his brothers in all the changes happening at the Dorothy, in the construction of the very dog park where they currently stood. That he was living nearby while they finished the major renovation before opening up to new unit owners. She’d also heard about his leg. Though no one seemed to know the details, it was an oft-reported fact that he’d been injured on his last tour.
“Still handsome as sin.” Eliza, a long-time client of her father’s and a family friend, had leaned on the high reception desk at the veterinary clinic last summer, fanning herself with one hand. “Even if his injury does slow him down now.” Danielle had declined to comment, merely pulling up Eliza’s black Lab’s file and changing the subject by asking why Eliza’d brought Lady in this time.
Danielle looked at Knox now, and injured was not the first word that popped to mind. Yes, his left leg was in an elaborate brace he wore outside a pair of molded-to-his-body jeans, but he stood straight and tall, his strong jaw clean-shaven and as stubborn looking as ever. Handsome as sin, exactly as Eliza’d reported. Older, sure, but also more developed, his face more interesting, lined as it was with new creases around his eyes and a few around his mouth. The tattoo, half-hidden by his dark-green sleeve, intrigued her. She could just make out the word Fidelis and wondered how far up the ink went. Her fingers itched to trace the lettering, to find out where the swooping scrolls led. Did he have others?
A cool nose to her hand reminded Danielle where she was. Dog park. Out in public. Focused on finding new foster and forever homes for the greyhound rescues she adored, not on a love forever lost in the pa
st.
“Good girl, Luna.” Danielle slid her hand down Luna’s sleek neck. Danielle gave thanks every day for the dog’s presence in her life. Like now, when she seemed to sense Danielle’s feelings and reached out in support.
The retired racing greyhound reached twenty-five inches at the shoulder, maybe six inches less than half Danielle’s height. At five foot two, Danielle was accustomed to being the shortest person around. It made her an ideal height, however, for greyhound snuggles. Luna leaned against her leg, not heavily, a gentle weight reminding Danielle she wasn’t alone.
“Your dog?” Knox hadn’t moved, not a single muscle twitch, during their long silence.
Danielle relaxed into the familiar conversation. “Yes, this is Luna. The typical who-saved-who? story. Ask your grandfather. I’m sure he could tell you tales about what great companions these retired racers make.”
“Thought I read something about dog racing being banned in Florida.” His thousand-yard gaze switched to Luna, who stretched out her muscled neck for an exploratory sniff.
“Offer her the back of your hand,” Danielle instructed, feeling more stable as the conversation flowed onto predictable tracks. “And yes, it’s illegal, but the industry was given a grace period to shut down, and there are thousands of dogs that need to be rehomed. Of course, some people thought they should all be put down, and that’s when Homestretch got involved. We specialize in finding homes for these deserving dogs.”
“Seems like this one found a good home.” Knox followed her instructions, holding out his hand at dog-sniffing distance. Luna’s ears perked forward, and after a brief snuffle, she levered her head so that Knox’s large hand palmed the top of her long head. He visibly relaxed, shoulders losing their rigidity, and stroked his hand across the top of her head and along her spine.
“I like to think so.” Danielle blocked memories of those hands stroking the skin of her own back. Flurry stretched her front legs forward in what Danielle liked to call the greyhound downward-dog position, then joined Luna in sniffing Knox’s hand. “Meet Luna and Flurry.”
“Hello there.” Knox gave each dog one of his hands, and they took shameless advantage, angling their heads to get scratched in their favorite places. Danielle felt a twinge of envy. She’d once loved Knox’s touch, too, could remember the intense thrill of being the sole focus of his attention. She shut down that line of thought. Jealous of her dogs? Ridiculous. It was simply the shock of seeing him after so long, the surrealness of their incredibly normal conversation.
“Three dogs, huh?” Knox’s husky voice brought Danielle out of her thoughts. “You must live on a ranch or something.”
Startled, Danielle looked down to see Sarge had joined in the attention-craving behavior, bumping his head against Knox’s thigh, the one without the brace.
“No, still in my dad’s guest cottage.” Danielle felt strangely bereft, watching all three dogs jockey for Knox’s attention.
“You’re living with your father?” Knox’s gaze snapped to hers. “Is he sick?”
“Healthy as a horse.” Danielle busied herself realigning the perfectly aligned brochures.
“Funny, I always pictured you in one of those big houses on the bay. Your own veterinary practice. Kids.” His voice dropped. “Husband.”
Danielle snorted, closing her eyes against the pain of his words. No doubt he’d known her eighteen-year-old self, still able to list her biggest dreams without blinking an eye. “Things change, Knox. People change.”
Knox stayed quiet for a long moment. “Don’t I know it.” He rubbed his left leg, right above the brace. “Still, three of these giants seems like a lot of dog for a guesthouse.”
“I’m fostering this dollface.” Danielle stepped around the table to reclaim Sarge. “Hoping to find him a home today.” She eyed Knox from the top of his head to the tips of his scuffed all-terrain boots, sizing him up for his fitness as a potential forever home.
“Don’t look at me.” Knox’s rigidity returned, and he snatched his hand back like the dog’s fur had burned him. “I’m not in the market for a dog.”
“People rarely are. But when your dog finds you, what’re you going to do?” It was a statement Danielle often said to prospective adopters, and usually people smiled and agreed with her. Knox, however, was not most people. He glared at her as if she could force him to take home a dog against his will. Some things about him hadn’t changed. He still didn’t like to be coerced into anything.
“Homemade brownie?” She offered him a snack from the human-treat bowl.
The suspicion melted off his face, and he took the offering. She’d known he would. Knox’d always had a sweet tooth, a whole mouth full of them.
The dogs watched longingly as Knox stuffed the entire thing in his mouth in one bite.
“Here you go, Luna. Flurry.” She flicked each of them a biscuit. “And one for you, too, Sarge.”
“What did you call me?” Knox barked, mouth still half-full of her brownie.
“Nothing. I was talking to the dogs.”
Knox chewed fast and took a hard swallow. “I heard you say ‘Sarge.’”
“Yeah, the dog.” Danielle set a protective palm against Sarge’s head. “Knox, are you okay?” Maybe her brownie wasn’t sitting right. Her baking skills were usually put to canine use. Perhaps she’d lost her touch with human food? She scanned him for signs of choking, but all she noted was a paleness around his mouth.
“Sorry.” Knox shoved hands into his jeans’ pockets, disappointing Luna, who was angling for more petting. “I’m a gunnery sergeant. Was a gunnery sergeant.”
“I didn’t know.” Oh my God, did he think she’d named a dog after him? She couldn’t stop the flush of heat that washed up her neck and took over her face.
“Why would you?” Knox’s laugh sounded creaky, unused. “Besides, my men mostly called me Gunny.”
The casual Why would you cut Danielle in an unexpected way. While he’d been imagining her carrying out all their dreams without him, she’d imagined him much the same—brash and bold, running off to the Marines and never looking back. What, exactly, had he done in the Marines? How had he hurt his leg? She’d frozen him in time, the boy who broke her heart, but a man stood in front of her. As familiar as he felt, she really didn’t know him at all.
“How’re Cassie and Madi? You three still close?” Knox freed one hand from his pocket to absently stroke the top of Sarge’s head.
Another wound, another memory. “No. Cassie went to NYU and never came back. Madi’s in Texas now, I think.” The three of them, best friends since fourth grade, had had such big plans. At least Cassie and Madi had followed their dreams. “Madi came through town a few years ago.” Ten years ago. “We had lunch. She loves teaching high school.” At least, that was what her social media posts were mostly about. That and her family, a handsome-enough husband and twin girls. Danielle didn’t think of it as stalking so much as checking in on an old friend without all the awkwardness of actual contact.
“That’s a shame.” Knox’s gaze searched her face, like he knew something was off but couldn’t quite figure out what. Sarge bumped his hand when the petting slowed.
“A shame she’s doing what she loves?” Danielle envied Madi her focus. She’d wanted to be a teacher and a mom, and she went out into the world and did it. Not that Danielle didn’t love her own dual career as greyhound rescuer and vet tech, but it wasn’t what she’d envisioned for herself at eighteen. No, that vision was standing right in front of her, squinting like the light hurt his eyes even though the sun was behind him.
“A shame the three of you aren’t tight anymore.” Knox’s squint relaxed, and the corner of his mouth hitched up in a half smile. “You used to have a lot of fun together. Remember Senior Ditch Day?”
“We were kids. Now we’re not.” Danielle shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear philosophical. P
eople drifted apart. It was a fact. “Like us. So, unless you’re interested in the adoption process, I should really get back to work.”
“It was good to see you,” Knox bit out and turned sharply on his heel, marching off in the direction of the sweets booth before Danielle could respond. Danielle recognized Sydney manning the booth, her little chihuahua strapped to her front in what could only be called a baby sling. Sarge whimpered and watched Knox go with obvious longing.
“Well, that was awkward, wasn’t it?” Danielle squatted, a hand cupped under Sarge’s muzzle. “Don’t take it personally, Sarge. Trust me when I tell you that man is commitment-phobic. It’s him, not you.”
Another mantra from the post-breakup months. Flurry nudged her chin, and Danielle turned her head to rest her cheek against the top of Flurry’s flat head. Dog snuggles were the best. They could get you through anything, even if that thing was watching the man who broke your heart walk away from you again.
Chapter 3
Knox didn’t have an exit strategy, and he cursed the soreness in his leg that kept him from retreating at full speed. All he knew was that every second he stood in Danielle’s presence, another year peeled away until he was once again that raw eighteen-year-old, terrified of ruining her life. He’d almost done it, too, knocking her up right before graduation. He’d tried to make it right. The proposal. The ring. He’d even been happy about it. A lifetime with Danielle by his side? It was a future he hadn’t deserved but desperately wanted anyway.
In the end, the literal end, she’d lost the baby, and he’d known this was his one chance to do the right thing and let her go. To not repeat the mistakes of his parents, the mistake his mother reminded him of his entire childhood.
