by Mara Wells
Danielle spun in a distracted circle.
“That is really fast.” Knox couldn’t stand the distraught look on her face. His fingers itched to reach for her, to smooth back the flyaway bangs, to hold her close so that nothing bad could get to her.
As a Marine, he’d dedicated his life to protecting his country, his fellow Marines, and the objects of his missions, and he’d been good at it. Dedicated. Willing to die to make sure the rest of his men made it out. Heartbroken when he wasn’t able to prevent the tragedy of a lost Marine. What was coursing through his veins right now was familiar in some ways. The adrenaline heightening his senses, the drill-and-kill commands echoing in his head, the flex of his fingers reaching for a rifle that was no longer there.
But in other ways, he felt out of his element. How could he stop the tears glistening in Danielle’s eyes that she refused to let fall? How could he execute a search-and-rescue mission but without leaving her side? She exerted a gravitational pull on him that made it hard to keep what little distance there was between them.
“Flurry! Luna!” Danielle visibly rallied. Sucked in large breaths that stretched the pineapple on her T-shirt. Whoa, that pineapple. It was going to star in his dreams for many nights to come. He’d always had a thing for Danielle’s breasts, but he told himself his horny teenage memories were what made it impossible for any other woman to outshine Danielle in his memory. Yet somehow, those breasts had gotten even better with time, and here he was, staring at her chest while she was freaking out about her dogs.
Knox shook his head, turning abruptly at a shadow that flashed across his peripheral vision.
“Over there,” he said in a low voice, pointing with his chin. A white nose, tipped in black, stuck out from under a blue Sebring convertible.
Danielle rushed to the car. “Flurry, you crazy girl. What’re you doing down there?”
Flurry belly crawled out from under the car, her tail wagging timidly. She rolled, exposing her chubby tummy for Danielle to pet.
Danielle squatted and smoothed a hand over Flurry’s rib cage, her pregnancy evident in the rounded curve of her belly. “Where’s Luna, huh? Do you know?”
Flurry blinked up, all innocence, and Knox began a car-by-car search for the other dog. “You didn’t tell me your dogs like to play hide-and-seek.”
“It’s new to me, too.” Danielle stood, wrapping the long lead around her wrist. She headed for the opposite side of the garage, Flurry’s nails clicking behind her on the concrete floor. “I have to say, I’m not a fan. Not a fan at all.”
At Danielle’s disapproving tone, Flurry’s tail drooped.
Knox slapped his thigh for Sarge to follow him. After the third car that Knox dropped onto his good knee to look under, Sarge adopted a search-and-rescue protocol of his own. At each new car, he’d drop his front half, butt raised in the air. Knox couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Then, Sarge swept his muzzle from side to side in a one-eighty arc. When he didn’t find anything, he’d return to his full height and stare up at Knox.
Knox had no trouble imagining Sarge in the field, shouting, “Clear!” after he checked out the undercarriage of each car.
“Do you think Sarge knows we’re looking for Luna?” Knox called loudly, hoping it would carry to Danielle’s position.
Danielle popped up from behind an old Camry. “Probably? It’s hard to know for sure what goes through their quarter-pound brains.”
Sarge yipped, pulling on his leash so hard that Knox lost his balance and had to brace himself on the nearest car to keep from landing too hard on his bad leg.
“What is it?” Knox reoriented himself and let the leash out a bit to give Sarge his head. The dog pulled him toward the garage exit.
“Oh no, oh no.” Danielle followed Flurry’s lead in the same direction. “Luna’s out on the street.” Danielle broke into a jog, Flurry keeping pace beside her. They reached the exit before Knox and Sarge.
“This looks like one of yours.” The voice was deep, amused.
Knox wasn’t sure who it was, though the voice sounded familiar, but he already didn’t like the guy.
“Thank God.” Danielle’s voice was as breathless as if she’d run laps around the garage. As breathless as if he’d just kissed her.
When Knox finally got outside, he found Danielle kneeling in the grass, both arms around Luna’s neck. Above her, way above her, stood Adam St. John, hands clasped around Luna’s leash like he was the owner taking his pup out for a stroll.
“You look good with a greyhound.”
Knox did not like the way she eyed the handsome architect. Adam had designed the new Dorothy, the parking garage, even the new Fur Haven Dog Park, and as a result, Knox had spent more than a few days working alongside him. He was the kind of architect who liked to be on-site and would pitch in when he could, even if it meant plaster dust on his expensive trousers. So Knox knew Adam wasn’t a bad guy. He was maybe even a good guy. He was just standing too close to Danielle, that was all.
Adam handed the leash over to Danielle. “Don’t look at me like that. I am not in the market for a runaway greyhound. Or any greyhound for that matter.”
The speculative gleam didn’t leave Danielle’s eye. “Luna’s mine, but I have a few dogs in foster care you might really love.”
Adam chuckled. “I was warned about your persistence. And I see you’ve already roped Knox in with your wiles, but with the hours I work, it wouldn’t be fair to bring a dog into my home.”
Danielle admitted defeat with a regal nod. “You make a good point. If your work schedule changes, let me know.”
Adam cocked his head. “You know what? I don’t think I will.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued into the garage.
“Well, that was rude.” Danielle watched the door swing closed behind Adam. Knox had noticed that Riley and Carrie liked to watch the man walk away, too.
“You did try to force a dog on him.”
“I don’t force dogs on people.” Danielle huffed, still crouched down but no longer clinging to Luna. Flurry stood next to Luna, their muzzles crossed in greeting, while Danielle took turns petting them.
Knox exchanged a look with Sarge, who looked like he was grinning. Knox might have a hard time understanding dog language, but Sarge could clearly read him.
“I’m a matchmaker.” Danielle filled the silence with chatter, a habit he’d loved in high school when he’d felt so awkward around everyone. Everyone but her. “Everyone has a match. Some people just need more encouragement than others.”
Sarge nudged Knox’s good leg, and he scratched the dog behind his ears. “You really believe that?”
“I really do. There’s a perfect match for everyone.” Danielle stood. “Look at you and Sarge.”
Knox’s gut clenched at her words. He believed her. Believed in her. But it wasn’t Sarge who was his perfect match. No, his perfect match was smiling up at him, eyes shining with relief at finding her runaway dogs, completely oblivious to the rioting emotions ricocheting through his body. He wasn’t falling in love with Danielle Morrow all over again. He didn’t have to, because he’d never stopped loving her in the first place.
He reached out a hand. She accepted his help, and as soon as she was on her feet, he pulled her against his chest, capturing his mouth with hers in a kiss so hungry it even surprised him.
She jerked from shock, then kissed him right back. His lips never leaving hers, he gathered up the three leashes and wrapped them around her waist. This time, the dogs weren’t going anywhere. And neither was he.
Eventually, the dogs lost patience with them, and the combined weight of three greyhounds leaning on them finally got Knox’s attention, especially when accompanied by an investigative snout in his crotch.
“What is it you wanted to talk about?” Danielle smiled while he batted Sarge’s nose into a less personal area.
Knox looked into her eyes, sure he’d had some pressing issue to discuss with her but unable to think past the overwhelming desire to kiss her. Could she read the desire on his face?
Her dark eyes softened in a way that made him think maybe she did, but “Was it about helping Eliza next weekend?” was all she said, breaking eye contact with him.
Her prompt made him nod his head, but lying wasn’t his nature, so he admitted, “Hell if I know, but it sounds good.”
Danielle nodded and got out her phone. “Eliza’s still up top at the park. Let me text her.” Her fingers flew, and within a few minutes, they had a plan. How was it that he’d agreed to go ten whole days without seeing Danielle again? He liked it better when they were kissing. Things were clearer. He was clearer. In the face of her efficient scheduling and dog handling, he found he couldn’t interrupt her to demand what she felt about him. If she thought they could make it work as adults.
This was how adults do it, he supposed. One careful step at a time. He liked it about as much as when they made him slow down at physical therapy. Knox was not a man who liked to tread lightly. Once an objective was fixed, why waver?
Danielle sent him a shy smile. “Do you mind the pictures of Sarge?”
Mind having her name pop on his phone several times a day? But he couldn’t tell her how much he looked forward to any communication from her. “It’s fine.”
“Good, good.” Danielle’s color heightened, her freckles blending together, and he realized she was uncomfortable. Maybe even embarrassed. With him.
“I’m sorry.” The words were out before he knew what he was apologizing for.
Danielle’s face went from pink to white in a flash. “You’re apologizing for the kiss?”
He tried to read her. Failed. “Yes?”
“Typical Knox. What did I expect?” Danielle lunged toward her car, dogs in tow. Sarge trailed reluctantly and, with even more reluctance, allowed her to boost him into the back of her SUV.
Knox caught up, grabbing her elbow to spin her toward him. “What does that mean?”
“It’s all old memories to you, isn’t it? But I can’t go there again, Knox. We’re not eighteen anymore.” She yanked out of his grasp.
He didn’t like it, how she avoided his touch. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I take it back then. I’m not sorry.”
Danielle’s eyes raked him, head to foot. “Geez, make up your mind already.” She climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.
Knox watched her red taillights until she turned onto the street and out of sight, not sure what exactly had just happened but glad he knew Danielle well enough to know that even if she was mad at him, he’d still see her for Easter egg stuffing next Saturday. Maybe by then he’d have figured out what exactly just went wrong.
Chapter 12
Knox knelt on his good knee and opened his arms wide for his nephew, who was barreling full speed up Eliza’s front walkway, an excited Beckham jumping along beside him. An empty basket swung on his arm, and when he launched himself into Knox’s hug, the basket whacked Knox upside the head.
“Buddy, you gotta keep your gear in check.” Knox rubbed his noggin and exaggerated his wince of pain to make his point.
“K-nox, I’m going to get candy today.” Oliver grinned up at him, completely oblivious to the important life lesson Knox was attempting to impart. What did Knox expect with the prospect of sugar rush on Oliver’s mind?
Over a dozen children scrambled around Eliza’s front yard, shouting to their parents whenever they found a plastic egg. One boy ran past, his cargo-shorts pockets bulging, singing a song he was clearly making up on the fly. “Hippity hippity, hoppity hoppity,” he sang loud enough that the residents at the Dorothy across the street could probably hear him.
Knox kept one arm around his nephew and used his other hand to scratch Beckham, who stood on his hind legs, front legs planted on Knox’s thigh. “You only get candy if you can find it. You got your X-ray vision on today?”
“You bet, K-nox!” Oliver bounced on the balls of his feet as if in addition to X-ray vision, he could also launch himself into space with the sheer force of his excitement. “K-nox, did you find any yet?”
Knox shook his head and stood, taking Oliver’s hand. Once Oliver started learning to read, he’d insisted on pronouncing the K in Knox. At first, it was super cute, but it’d been a few months now and Knox was over it. Sadly, Oliver was not. Knox was afraid he was going to be Uncle K-nox for the rest of his life.
“Sorry!” Carrie hustled up the walkway, hair in a loose bun with long strands framing her features. “I had trouble finding parking, and as soon as he saw you out the window, Oliver couldn’t wait. Looks like you guys are ready to start.”
“We are. Into the fray?” He offered his arm to his sister-in-law, and she took it with a laugh. Oliver sprinted ahead of them, stopping every few feet to admire Eliza’s bunnies and baskets and weird egg-themed lawn stakes. While Oliver scanned the yard for plastic eggs, Knox scanned the area for any sign of Danielle. She’d said she’d stop by this morning before she set up for the Fur Haven Easter Bonnet Parade, but so far, he hadn’t seen her short bob of brown hair anywhere.
Yesterday, they’d spent the afternoon in Eliza’s—soon to be his—living room, stuffing hundreds of plastic eggs with candy. The red ones had sugar-free, dairy-free, gluten-free treats in them, and it had been Knox’s job all day to let parents know so they could direct their kids toward or away from the red eggs, depending on the kid.
The plastic-egg-stuffing process had been surprisingly relaxing, kicked back on the sofa with his bad leg propped on a stuffed ottoman that Lady had gnawed the fringe off of when she was a puppy, listening to Eliza rant about an interview she’d heard on NPR earlier in the day. Danielle had listened, agreeing with Eliza’s points, while Knox stayed out of it, stuffing as much candy in each egg as he could. Only an occasional mini-Tootsie Roll made it to his mouth. When Eliza had exhausted her outrage, at least momentarily, she made them coffee and brought out a plate of yellow, pink, and purple Peeps. Danielle had actually squealed at the sight. Knox could eat his own weight in cupcakes given the chance, but he wasn’t a fan of the sticky Peeps. He did, however, become a big fan of watching Danielle enjoy them. He found they tasted better after witnessing Danielle’s delight.
They’d gone back to egg prep after the snack, filling large baskets with eggs in every color of the rainbow and then some. Danielle had been relaxed, chatting with Eliza about people and pets they knew. Eliza showed them pictures on her phone of her new place across the street.
“Wow, that’s practically a palace. You and Lady will be so happy there!” Danielle’s finger had swiped through the photos slowly, commenting on each room with such enthusiasm that Knox felt a surge of pride swell through him. He’d helped with the renovation, and it was beyond satisfying to hear it praised. Especially by Danielle.
After the first hour, Knox hadn’t had to put much thought into the egg business. Open egg, shove candy inside, close egg, and put in a basket. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Once he had the hang of it, he had a lot of time for his mind to wander, and it wandered to its favorite subject lately: Danielle. Her small hands were engaged in the same task, prying open plastic eggs and sorting through heaps of candy. She occasionally chewed at the chipped polish on her thumbnail, and he noticed a scar across the back of her left hand that hadn’t been there in high school. He had questions, a lot of them. Like what happened to make that scar? And why hadn’t she become a vet like she’d planned? And most importantly, did she regret kissing him, or would she like to do it again?
Because he would like to do it again, but he was afraid his apology had somehow made everything worse between them. Not as bad as fifteen years of no contact, he consoled himself, but bad enough that he might actually have to engage in a conversation about feelings to sort it out, an
d he’d quite frankly rather kiss her and see where it went than try to untangle their past and present. Where was that Magic Eight Ball egg when a guy needed one?
As if she felt his eyes on her, Danielle had looked up and smiled. He’d smiled back, and her cheeks had gotten as pink as the plastic egg in her hand. A good start. As soon as the last egg was filled, Eliza had asked for help hiding them around the yard.
“They’ll be okay overnight?” Knox had been skeptical, but Eliza assured him that in the twenty years she’d been hiding eggs, only once had raccoons figured out how to crack them open.
“But they only ate a dozen or so. It worked out fine.” Eliza marshaled them out the front door. “The hunt starts at sunrise and is over by noon. I can’t get up much earlier than the crack of dawn, not these days anyway, so it’s best to get it done now.” Eliza shoved a basket of eggs into his arms and pointed to the far end of the yard. “Make some easy to find for the littlest ones and make some hard to find for the ones who think they’re so smart.”
“Hey, I used to love finding the out-of-the-way eggs!” Danielle hugged a basket to her chest.
“And weren’t you a smarty-pants back then? Nose always in a book, using words no child your age should know.” Eliza placed an egg on the edge of the step.
“She had a real potty mouth, huh?” Knox swung the basket into one hand, and the plastic weave brushed against his brace. He shifted it to his other hand.
“Oh yeah, always going on about occiputs and prosterna. Your father should’ve washed your mouth out with soap, no doubt about it.” Eliza clucked her tongue in feigned disapproval.
Danielle busied her hands in the basket. “Fine, I get it. I was a pretentious kid.”
“Oooh,” Eliza wiggled her fingers like a magician conjuring a rabbit out of a hat. “Look at you, still using the big words.”
Danielle had forced a laugh. Knox knew it was forced because it didn’t reach her eyes. In fact, her eyes were sad when she said, “Well, I learned about the real world soon enough, didn’t I? Come on. These eggs won’t hide themselves.”
