by Mara Wells
“If not for you” was his mother’s most common refrain. If not for him, she’d have moved to New York or LA to act. She would’ve been a star. TV, movies, the grand stage. The dream changed depending on whatever awards show she’d recently watched. Instead, she’d stayed in Miami and been his mom, a sacrifice she expected him to acknowledge daily. It wasn’t an accident that he kept his weekly obligation calls to under ten minutes. No matter where he was in the world, he’d always checked in, but he’d never connected. In his fourteen years in the Corps, she’d become a voice on the phone, a tether to a past he’d rather forget.
Warm weight slammed into his bad leg, and he went down. It wasn’t the first time, but it had been a long time since he’d been knocked off-balance. His hours of physical therapy training paid off, and he rolled safely to the right, palm planted in the grass.
“Goodness gracious, I am sorry.” A wrinkled hand, pale and small, reached down to help him up.
Knox swallowed a grunt and his pride, a bitter pill, and grasped her wrist, using her slight weight to lever himself to his feet.
“Knox, isn’t it?” The older woman dabbed at her neck with a paper napkin before tucking it in her bra strap. “I’ve seen you around, but I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Eliza.” She slapped her leg, and the black Lab at her side immediately sank to its haunches. “This is Lady. I’m afraid she can get a bit overexcited around the younger dogs and doesn’t know her own strength.”
“No harm, no foul.” Knox swiped at his pants, more for something to do with his hands than concern for grass stains. “Pleasure to meet you. You’re a friend of Riley’s, aren’t you? Do you live in the building?” He referred to the Dorothy, the aging Art Deco fifty-five-plus building his brother Caleb and his fiancée, Riley, lived in, and his brother Lance and his wife, Carrie, were helping to remodel. Knox helped out whenever he could, which was most days except for his never-ending physical therapy appointments, and he’d begun the research for a new security system for the building. With the attraction of the public dog park, Caleb was worried about the Dorothy’s exposure and didn’t want any thieves thinking the retirement-aged residents were easy prey.
“No, but I’m planning to move in soon.” Eliza’s face lit with joy. “My house across the street is up for sale, in case you know anyone who might be interested. Once I’ve got an offer, I’ll start the paperwork to move into one of the new remodeled units. A one-bedroom is too small with a dog like Lady, but I think she’ll be comfortable in a two-bedroom, don’t you?”
Surprised to be consulted, Knox found his head nodding. “Plenty of room for both you ladies, I imagine. You should let us know if you have any special requests. Easier to make changes now than once everything is done.”
“An excellent observation, young man.” Eliza reached out the same hand that had helped him up to pat his arm. “I’ll put some thought into it and let you know.”
Knox didn’t typically like to be touched by strangers, but Eliza’s open face invited informality. Lady bumped the hand that hung at his side, and he absently fondled the top of her head. Her tongue lolled out in appreciation. Knox thought about Caleb and Riley living in the building, about Lance and Carrie’s house a few blocks away. He thought about his lonely rental and how little time he spent there. He thought about how he’d been enjoying helping Lance with the renovation work. Turned out he had a knack for whacking down cabinetry and ripping pipes out of walls.
“How much are you asking for your place?” The words were out before he’d fully thought it through, but it would be convenient to live across the street from the place he was spending most of his waking hours.
Eliza named a price that wasn’t cheap but not as high as he’d expected with the apology, “I’m afraid it needs a bit of work. That’s why I’m moving. I’m long past the age of fixer-uppers, if you know what I mean.”
“Do you think I could see it sometime?” A little fixing up didn’t scare him, now that he had some basic skills and his brother’s expertise to rely on. Plus, he had plenty of hazard-duty pay stashed away, and there was always the child-support money his mother had cashed to spite his father but put in savings for him. Her alimony checks had been generous enough for them both to live on until he’d joined up. Knox hadn’t seen the balance in years, but last time he’d checked, it was surprisingly high. His mother had always called it his college money, and he’d had some idea of saving it for his own kids’ college funds. But why not buy a house? Wasn’t that what Caleb was always nattering on about, the soundness of real estate as an investment strategy? It wouldn’t be a home, of course, any more than his apartment was, but he could stop paying rent, flip the house, and make a profit when he moved on.
“Of course!” Eliza reached into her blouse. Knox averted his eyes so he wouldn’t see exactly what was going on. “Here’s my card. Give me a call. Maybe we don’t even need a real estate agent, eh?” She winked at him.
He held the limp card between his thumb and forefinger, trying not to think about where it’d come from. What else did she have hidden in that bra? Dog treats? Bottle of mace? A snack for later? He tucked the card into his back pocket. “Will do, ma’am.”
“Wonderful.” She beamed at him. “Lady and I’ll be heading home now. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Knox wished he could follow her to the elevator and make his escape. He’d promised to help out with the grand opening. Riley’d conscripted him for cleanup duty, and her friend Sydney had made him promise to help out at the sweets booth. He headed there now, his head full of possibilities. Buying a house didn’t have to mean anything. It was just an investment after all.
His heart said otherwise, though. No doubt about it. Seeing Danielle again had brought up those old longings for home and family, a place to belong. But he wasn’t eighteen years old anymore, and he knew better than anyone that wishing didn’t make a thing so. Still, a house of his own? It was the first thing he’d been excited about since the doctors broke the news to him that he wouldn’t be rejoining his unit.
It was the challenge of it, he was sure, the excitement centered around the chance to flex the new skills he’d learned working with Lance. He’d love to pull off a renovation without his brother telling him how to do every little thing. He’d felt the same in the Marines. Each time he earned a new belt in the MC Martial Arts Program, he doubled down and trained harder, always pushing his skill level. It was why he’d ended up as an instructor—he liked to put what he knew to use. It wasn’t like he could throw anyone to the mat anymore, but he could certainly show a bucket of plaster who was boss.
He patted his back pocket and headed to where he saw Sydney bustling about behind a table laden with all things sweet and delicious. A three-tiered cake dominated the table, pink frosting with white piping and tiny, plastic dogs cavorting across the top.
Within moments, he dug into his exorbitantly priced slice of pink cake. If the bubble-gum flavor reminded him of stolen kisses from fifteen years ago, that was between him and his taste buds.
* * *
Danielle picked up the lone brochure still left on the table. The sun was setting, turning the early March sky pink and orange. The view from the new dog park was stunning, ocean to the east and the Miami skyline to the west. With the exception of a few high-rises, it was a nearly unobstructed view. Danielle paused to take it all in. The Donovan brothers had a lot to be proud of here.
A long-suffering sigh brought her attention back to her dogs. Luna and Flurry slept under the table, their long legs sticking straight out to the side. Sarge stood at attention, positioned so he could keep an eye both on her and on Knox.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that the dog was fascinated by the man he’d met today. Sometimes it was like that with dogs. They knew their people, sometimes even before the people did. It was clear to her Sarge liked her, felt protective even, but he’d decided his person was Knox
Donovan. Danielle didn’t know how to explain to Sarge not to get his hopes up, that Knox was a heartbreaker through and through.
Sarge shifted, putting more weight on his healing leg, and visibly shuddered at the pain. He immediately corrected his stance, putting as little pressure on the affected foot as possible. Danielle’s heart constricted. The poor dog had been through so much. She looked across the rooftop to where Knox helped take down the sweets booth table, folding the legs up and stacking it against the collection of other tables. All around the park, dogs lounged near their owners or ran in groups of three or four. People chipped in to help with packing everything away, all smiles and laughter. But not Knox. He worked alone, face grim as he completed his table-folding task and moved on to racking up a half-dozen chairs.
Danielle looked down at Sarge, at the longing in his eyes. The poor thing had been through so much. Too much. She decided right then and there, if Sarge wanted Knox, then Knox was about to get himself a dog.
She sorted the leftover supplies into tote bags. There wasn’t much left. The day had been a success with lots of folks stopping by and a few in-depth conversations she felt sure would lead to adoptions. Packed up, Danielle gathered the three leashes in her left hand, determined to make one more matchmaking attempt before the day was done. “Come on, kids. Let’s go make some friends.”
Luna and Flurry perked up, tails wagging lazily. Sarge looked concerned, but as soon as she headed in Knox’s direction, he strained at the lead.
“Hey.” Danielle kept a firm grip on the leashes, stopping a few feet from Knox’s chair-folding project. “Need any help?”
Knox turned those blue eyes on her, and she was glad she’d spoken first because anything else she might’ve said flew out of her mind. A bit of pink frosting clung to the corner of his mouth. She couldn’t look away. The urge to brush it with her thumb was nearly irresistible. She could picture it, the slide of her skin against his soft lip. She’d always loved how the lower lip was plumper than the upper one, a permanent pout she’d loved to tease into a smile. She could see that smile now, in her memory, and felt the joy that had coursed through her every time she’d stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.
Why did no other boyfriend’s kiss linger in her memory the way Knox’s did? There’d been a few, after that first year, nothing ever too serious. She’d tried to keep it light, fun. Maybe that was why she couldn’t even remember one name, not with Knox standing in front of her. Scowling.
Scowling?
“I can fold a chair or two without any help.”
His bitterness cut through all her warm, fuzzy memories and landed her smack-dab in this awkward moment. He clearly wasn’t remembering the slide of their lips on each other.
“That’s not what I meant.” Her grip tightened on the leashes, and Sarge turned his gaze on her, concerned. She consciously relaxed her fingers, one at a time. No need to transmit her distress to the greyhounds.
Knox collapsed a chair with a loud clap of metal on metal and shoved it into the pile with the other chairs.
“Hey, Danielle, good to see you.” Caleb approached, pushing a low, flat cart half-full of chairs. “Want to give me a hand loading these up?”
“Sure.” She gave the dogs the command for stay and grabbed the chair Knox had just folded.
“I told you I’ve got this.” Knox pulled the chair out of her grasp and loaded it onto the cart. “You can go.”
His tone was so military, so dismissive. So not the Knox she’d known. She almost cringed, but then she saw that Sarge was cringing and that made her mad.
“Watch your tone around the dogs.” Her voice was low and modulated. “I don’t want them triggered by your sour mood.”
“Triggered? Dogs?” Knox swung another chair onto the cart while Caleb watched the two of them with open interest. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It is not ridiculous. They are very sensitive to emotion.” Danielle soothed a hand along Sarge’s spine. The dog visibly relaxed at her touch, leaning into her with a drafty sigh.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Knox loaded the last two chairs onto the cart. He held out the back of his hand to Sarge, the way she’d told him to early today. “Sorry, big guy.”
Sarge’s tail thumped against Danielle’s leg, and he looked up at Knox with adoring eyes.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Knox’s hand slipped under Sarge’s long jaw for a scratch. Sarge took a hesitant step forward, favoring his back leg. Knox noticed, and his eyes narrowed. “What happened to him?”
“Multiple fractures. He’ll heal, but the leg will never be the same.”
Something came over Knox then, a grim darkness Danielle recognized from her own dark days. Knox’s other hand came around to cup Sarge under the chin. He looked into the dog’s eyes. “I know how you feel, buddy.”
That was when Danielle knew Sarge’s instincts were right. Knox was totally Sarge’s human. It was clear they were meant for each other.
“Do you want to hold his leash?” Danielle offered him the black lead, but Knox shook his head.
“I’m not really a dog person.”
Sarge’s ears drooped like he understood the words.
“Doesn’t look that way to me.”
“I told you not to get your hopes up about me. Couldn’t have a dog if I wanted one. I’m renting right now.”
“Oh.” Danielle’s fist clenched around the rejected leash. “Of course. We should get going, huh?” She forced her voice to a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. She turned to Caleb, who’d watched the interaction without saying a word. “Today was lovely. Can you let Riley know I said thank you? I have a feeling your new dog park is going to be wildly popular.”
Caleb flashed her a smile. “I hope you’re right. Amount of money we sank into this thing? Still, it’s a labor of love and those rewards can’t be counted in dollar bills. At least that’s what Riley tells me.”
Danielle rested a hand on Luna’s head, and Flurry leaned against her leg. “It’s good to see you. Keep me in the dog park loop, will you? I think I got some good prospects today.”
“You have excellent recruiters here.” Caleb crouched down to give all three dogs a good scratch, then stood and gave her a one-armed hug. “Don’t be a stranger, huh? These canine Ferraris love to run, don’t they?”
“They do indeed. Don’t worry. We’ll be back.” Danielle looked at Knox as she said the words. Did he actually flinch at the prospect of seeing her again? She returned Caleb’s hug, then clicked her tongue for the dogs to follow her, heading for the elevator that would take them to the ground floor of the garage where she’d parked her SUV.
“Danielle?”
“Yeah?” She turned at Knox’s call. He stood, arms crossed in such a way that she could see more of his Semper Fidelis tattoo.
“It was good to see you.”
The elevator pinged, and she herded the greyhounds into the car without answering. What was she supposed to say? When it came to Knox, she didn’t know how she felt. Not anymore.
Sarge whined as the elevator descended.
“Don’t worry.” She kept her hand in the space between his shoulders, reassuring herself as much as the dog. It wasn’t the elevator that made her hands shake. No, it was Knox’s eyes on her when she’d looked over her shoulder before following the dogs onto the elevator. Fierce. Hot. Possessive.
She couldn’t deny it excited her. And terrified her. What would it be like to have Knox back in her life? His gaze had promised she’d soon find out.
Chapter 4
Knox grunted, pushing the leg-extension machine up with both legs, then slowly controlling the glide back to neutral. It’d been two days since Lady had knocked him down at the dog park, and he was determined to build up more strength so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise like that again. He hated not having complete control over his bum leg,
and after almost two years of recovery, he wanted to be further along. He wanted to be back to his old self, not easily taken down by a fifty-pound Lab. Weren’t they supposed to be the friendliest dogs on the planet? A Doberman or Rottweiler would make a better story, but no, his tale was the age-old felled by friendly fire.
“Eight more.” Ana, the physical therapy tech, didn’t look like a sadistic witch with her two purple and pink braids twirled high on her head and a face that looked like she’d get carded for an R-rated movie. She patted the top of his shoulder. “You’re doing great. Seven more now.”
“Increase the weight?” Knox’s question came out more pained than he’d intended.
Ana’s braids shook their disapproval. “We can’t rush things. You know that. We talk about it every time you come in.”
Three times per week, Knox showed up at the VA physical therapy center for his PT appointments, and three times per week, he asked when he’d be able to walk without the brace. No one, not a doctor or a physical therapist, would give him a timeline. It was frustrating as hell. So he did what he’d learned in the Marines—push harder, push farther. Pain is only weakness leaving the body.
Knox huffed his way through the remaining set, even though his braced leg burned and, on the last two reps, twitched. He didn’t tell Ana. She might not increase the weight on Wednesday if he complained today, and as far as he could tell, increased weight meant increased strength in that leg. Increased strength meant an end to living with the brace. Maybe he was showing off when he did an extra rep while Ana was distracted by something on her tablet.
“All done?” She flashed a perfect smile at him. He imagined the braces came off not too long ago. She didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, but she’d assured him in their first session together that she was. She’d also told him that she’d earned her A.A. degree and aced her certification in three years, but she did admit that she couldn’t legally drink until her next birthday.
