In Service of Love

by Laurel Greer

  That’s sexy, not adorable.

  Ack, she really needed to stop noticing that.

  “How was the drive to Missoula?” She’d organized things so that Asher and Ruth could spend their Sunday finalizing the adoption at the assistance dog organization. As soon as Maggie had gotten the confirmation that Asher’s adoption offer was approved, she’d arranged for him to come pick the dog up from her house after work on Monday. And now Ruth and Jackson were outside, happily playing on her lawn. It was as if the pup knew he had a new family.

  “We made good time. Ruth was so happy over the reason for the long drive that she didn’t complain about not stopping. Beautiful view, regardless,” he said. “Come the spring we’ll have to do some exploring. I’d love to head south, show Ruth Old Faithful.”

  Maggie’s heart panged. Family road trips hadn’t been a thing for the Reids. When her parents hadn’t been working at their Chicago law firm, they’d been busy freezing each other out, and using their children as chess pieces in the process. She had no doubt Asher would never treat Ruth like a pawn.

  He probably wouldn’t freeze a woman out, either.

  “I—uh—” She cleared her throat, pushing away the unhelpful thought. “The prismatic spring is even more impressive. Living in the mountains and near the parks and backcountry is one of the reasons I settled here.” She’d worked as a day trip guide for Sutter Mountain Resort while she was putting herself through college. Maybe she should offer to take him and Ruth to a few of her favorite places...

  Her nerves jittered. She couldn’t bring herself to force out the invitation. “You probably need to get going. Introduce Jackson to his new space.”

  He glanced over his shoulder out the screen door before fixing his gaze on her and running the pad of his thumb along her cheek. “Need to and want to don’t seem to be lining up at the moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I do need to get home to cook dinner. But I’d rather keep standing here, staring at you. You’ve gotten under my skin, Maggie. Even though you don’t want to be there.”

  “Depends on how you define ‘under my skin.’” Going against every intelligent cell in her body, she took a step closer to him, close enough to trace a line along his open shirt collar. “If it’s that I’m bothering you? That’s no good. But if it’s that you’re thinking about me? Well, join the club.”

  He looped his hands around her ribs and bent to her ear. “‘Thinking’ doesn’t quite encompass it, though.”

  “Oh,” she said. She rested her forehead against his chest and settled her hands on his hips. She could seriously breathe in the smell of him for a good year and not get tired of it.

  “Daddy?”

  He stumbled back from the embrace, turning to face his daughter, who crossed her arms and eyed them with scientific intensity.

  Maggie tried to look blasé. “We should get these supplies in the car for you.”

  Ruth frowned at Maggie.

  Crud, was the girl going to ask why Maggie had been plastered against Asher? What could possibly be a good answer—?

  “Jackson keeps running away,” Ruth complained.

  Relief washed through Maggie. The frown was dog related. “That’s one of the ways a dog plays. And though he’s well trained, he’s been adult focused until now. And I’ll tell you a secret—obedience training is more about training the person rather than the dog. You and I can practice some commands and body language while your dad’s working on the cabinets on Wednesday, if you like.” She turned her attention back to Asher. “I’d recommend the two of you take one of my brother’s classes, but I know Jackson best.”

  “Works for us.”

  The pleasure warming his expression suggested he was only too happy that she’d committed to spending more time with them.

  And the happiness in her heart wanted her to agree.

  Later that evening, she was sitting on her couch, trying to convince herself she was fine.

  But her house felt cavernous without Jackson to take up all the space. She couldn’t sit at the breakfast bar in the kitchen without noticing his dishes were gone. The living room couch was no better—it seemed all wrong without his giant butt leaning against the edge.

  Also, it was way too hard to avoid the truth when she was alone: it wasn’t just Jackson she was wanting to spend her evening with. It was Asher and Ruth, too.

  Thanks, but no thanks for the reminder, brain.

  Throwing on workout clothes, she hopped in her truck and drove to the wellness center. Going to the gym wasn’t always her thing, but sweating away her loneliness seemed healthier than digging into a pint of ice cream and numbing herself with Netflix. Plus, as gyms went, the one at Evolve Wellness was top-notch. She walked past the reception area, all glass and barn wood, and headed straight for a treadmill. Most of the machines were empty—not surprising. Who else didn’t have anything to do after dinner on a Monday? A few people were participating in the spin session being held in the fitness classroom off the gym, and a familiar, willowy, white man was spotting a for a powerlifter, an equally familiar, bald, black man with the build of a running back.

  She waved at her receptionist and his boyfriend. Once Deon put the bar down, they both grinned and waved back.

  There. She wasn’t the only one coming to the gym after dinner on a Monday... Except Evan and Deon, a physical therapist who worked out of Evolve’s PT clinic, were here together. The pair spent any time where they weren’t working either rock climbing or training for it. Something they shared.

  I don’t need together. I need not to feel rejected.

  And the only way to guarantee not getting rejected was to avoid handing someone her heart.

  Taking out her frustrations on the treadmill, she ran hard for about twenty minutes before a call interrupted the podcast she was listening to.

  It was her sister. Concern jolted through her.

  “Are you okay?” she answered, panting to catch her breath.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? And I’m not the one who sounds like a wheezing pug.”

  “I do not. I was running.”

  Stella chuckled. “That explains it. Got a minute?”

  “I guess.” She wiped down the machine and went into the hallway outside the gym. “What’s up?”

  “I’m worried Lachlan is taking too much on, and by extension, so are you. If you’re having to borrow more money, is everything really okay?”

  The back of her neck prickled. If Stella had bothered to come home once in the last decade, she’d know Maggie had more business than she knew what to do with, and that Lachlan’s addition would only enhance her existing business. But pointing that out would be a wasted effort. Stella was hardened against returning. Something Maggie could avoid by making sure she didn’t get involved in a failed relationship. “You saw his business plan. It’s solid.”

  “I just—” Stella paused, yawning audibly. “I worry about you guys.”

  “Lachlan’s fine. He and Marisol are brimming with new parent joy.” Maggie winced. Babies were a sore subject with her sister, after the miscarriage she’d gone through at eighteen.

  “As they should be. Marisol seems good for Lachlan,” Stella murmured. “And whenever I’ve Skyped with them, it’s clear he’s head over heels for Laura and more than ready to be a dad. I wish...”

  Maggie leaned against the hallway wall, guessing at where her sister’s mind had gone. “No one’s ready right out of high school.”

  “Yeah, obviously.”

  Hope leapt in Maggie’s chest. Getting the chance to even talk about Stella’s feelings was progress. Maybe her sister was softening to the idea of letting her siblings in. “It’s still a loss, Stella. And you can be happy for Lachlan and still hurt for yourself. There’s no statute of limitations on grief.”

  Silence rang on the other end.
“You’re a vet, Maggie, not a psychologist. And how about you fix your own issues before you poke at mine?”

  The quick shift from sad to prickly caught Maggie for a loop. “What do you mean, mine?”

  “You haven’t had a serious relationship since Jeff.”

  “Why would I, given how that ended?” she exclaimed. “And what happened to promise me you’ll never be as stupid as me, Maggie?”

  Stella made a choking sound. “You remember that?”

  “How could I forget?” Stella’s sobs that difficult day were imprinted on her brain.

  “Maggie, I was eighteen with zero judgment. Not all men are Ryan, or Jeff for that matter. And working a fifteen-hour day only to come home to an empty house is lonely.”

  Maggie sucked in a breath. “I don’t work fifteen-hour days.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  Okay, well, between dog training, search and rescue, and work, she did. “Fine. But I’m not lonely.” It was one thing feeling empty, but admitting it to her sister? No, thanks. “I have more friends and family to hang out with here than you do in New York.”

  “I—Ouch, Maggie. How do you know? You’ve never visited.”

  “Because you’ve never invited me.” Longing gripped her chest. “We could change that, though.”

  Stella paused for a long time. Her voice was rough when she finally said, “Work is complicated right now. I have a lot—I can’t—I’m sorry. Soon.”

  “Soon. Sure.” And she hung up on her sister before Stella had the chance to change “soon” to “never.”

  * * *

  Tuesday morning, Asher dropped Ruth off at school, where she proudly showed off her new dog to her friends. Then he took their giant buddy home while he went to work, promising to come let the dog out on his lunch break. Hopefully it would go well and Asher wouldn’t have to hide Jackson in his office, breaking regulations. The dog had slept okay in his new home, but had definitely seemed out of sorts. Missing Maggie, no doubt.

  Asher could relate.

  He spent his morning putting together a Halloween-themed book display in the children’s section and helping patrons. As the minutes ticked closer to lunch, he grew more worried about how Jackson was coping. Maybe Maggie would be able to ease his fears.

  He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

  Asher: Someone missed you last night.

  His cell buzzed.

  Maggie: I’m going to assume you mean J

  He grinned to himself. He had, but it could apply to him, as well. And for whatever reason, he didn’t mind her knowing that. It was weird, really. It seemed less than prudent to consider getting involved with someone, given Ruth was still grieving and adjusting to the move. It would be a while before he’d even consider broaching the idea of him dating. And Maggie had been very clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship, ever.

  But flirting a little... It was a welcome break from the usual grind of working and parenting and keeping a household together.

  It was worth a try.

  And if I wasn’t? he replied, reaching for his mug of tea.

  Maggie: Well, I wouldn’t suggest sleeping with one of my T-shirts like I would for Jackson.

  He almost spat his mouthful of Sticky Rice Oolong tea onto his cell phone. No, if there was ever a time sleeping and Maggie Reid crossed over in his life, he didn’t suspect her T-shirt would be in play. Not after he took it off, anyway.

  Man, it was tempting to reply with “what would you suggest I sleep with?” but he was feeling a little gun-shy. Before he could either gather up the courage for innuendo or come up with a completely innocent response, another message arrived.

  Maggie: I’ll bring something over for him.

  Excitement coursed through him. Dropping something by, giving Ruth some lessons tomorrow—two visits in two days sounded just right.

  Jackson would earn some extra dog biscuits if he kept luring in a certain veterinarian. The cookies might help get the dog out of his funk, too.

  When Asher ran home to let him out, the canine was calm but morose. They had a good walk around the neighborhood before time ran out and Asher needed to go back to work. Jackson didn’t seem anxious when Asher left, calming Asher’s concerns somewhat.

  He was sitting at one of the computer tables in the back corner of the library, helping one of the senior patrons with an internet query, when familiar footsteps caught his attention.

  Maggie appeared from around a shelf, clutching a reusable shopping bag.

  His heart lifted, and he smiled. Too obvious? A little pathetic? At least one of those things.

  Probably both.

  Cheeks pink, she scanned the scene and motioned to him that she’d wait.

  Asher nodded, refocusing on the white-haired woman trying to fill out a form on a seniors’ social website. “Does that make sense, Mrs. Brooks?”

  “Absolutely, dear. I’d have asked my grandson to show me, but he just lost his wife, did you hear? He has bigger problems than helping his granny navigate the internet.”

  Asher hadn’t heard about someone being widowed recently. A knot of sympathy filled his throat. He cleared it and screwed up his face in an expression he hoped fell between I’ve been there and I’m sorry.

  “That’s a terrible loss,” he said quietly. “My husband died close to two years ago, and I can say for me that day-to-day distractions were necessary for getting out of bed. That, and my daughter.”

  “I’m so sorry you lost your love.” She laid a thin-skinned hand on his forearm. “My grandson’s children keep him plenty busy. But I don’t think he needs to see me trying to find dates online right when he’s in mourning.”

  Asher blinked and studied the site closer. Oh, geez. It was a dating site. He’d missed that the first time he’d glanced at it.

  He shot her a half smile. “Fair point. But if there are other ways you can keep him busy, give it a shot. He’ll thank you. Eventually.”

  She patted his cheek. “You’ll fit in just fine in Sutter Creek, Asher. Now go see what our pretty veterinarian has for you in that bag she was carrying.”

  “Oh, it’s something for my dog.”

  Mrs. Brooks shook her head. “I don’t believe that for a second.” She shooed him away with a hand.

  Dismissed, he strolled in the direction Maggie had gone. She wasn’t by the desk or in the open area with the displays, so he poked his head down a few shelving rows until he spotted her blond head.

  She was back in the true crime section, like she had been the first day he’d noticed her and Jackson. Was wearing scrubs again, too. Unsurprising, since she must have left work to come here. She did it for the dog, not for me.

  But a man could dream. Some naive, romantic part of him, a part that had survived despite of—or perhaps because of—Alex, could easily imagine Maggie popping in to share lunch, or a secret kiss in the stacks... Nerves fluttered in his chest, and the corners of his mouth quirked up.

  “It seems Jackson is missing his true love,” he said.

  Maggie’s lips formed an O. “He was only with me for a few months.”

  “Apparently it only took that long to make an impression.” He stepped closer and brushed a stray curl off her cheek. “I can see how that would happen.”

  “Asher...” Longing flickered across her face. She bit her lower lip.

  He flexed his hands at his sides to keep from tracing his thumb along the pink flesh. “Yeah?”

  “You’re flirting with me.” She said it softly, warily, as if she couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.

  “Yeah.”

  Her brow furrowed. “And you’re at work.”

  “Is that the only reason you don’t like it?”

  Her chest rose with a deep breath. Her earlier flush returned to her cheeks. “Who said I didn’t like it?”
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  “A hunch.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and around him before rising up to steal a kiss. “You clearly shouldn’t listen to your hunches.”

  Clearly not. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he sank into the kiss. She tasted like mint, as if she’d anticipated this and popped a breath freshener.

  His pulse kicked up. Drove higher as her hands skimmed his back.

  She murmured a pleasure-filled sound that hummed along his skin.

  A throat cleared behind him. “I have a book to check out when you get a second. Is that you there, Maggie?”

  Maggie sprang back at Mrs. Brooks’s question. “Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t let me interrupt.” Amusement colored the older woman’s tone. “What’s a library for, if not a little romance? Those books are one aisle over, though, aren’t they?”

  “That’s—It’s not—” Maggie croaked, seemingly unable to finish a sentence. A deep red flush swept from her neck to her hairline.

  Asher palmed his mouth, smoothing his beard and turning on his winningest smile. “Apologies, Mrs. Brooks. Let me check out your selection for you.”

  It took everything he had, not to kiss Maggie one more time before he went to his desk. But one stolen embrace was plenty for today.

  Flirting was one thing. Making a habit of this woman was entirely another.

  Chapter Seven

  “I need to know everything.”

  Maggie froze, hands hovering over the tray she was preparing with kitten vaccinations. She’d thought she was alone in the treatment room, but the command coming from the doorway proved her wrong. And she didn’t need to turn to confirm who’d spat out the command. She knew Emma Halloran’s breathy alto almost as well as she knew her own voice, having been friends with the woman since they were preteens. Her stomach sank. Word about yesterday’s kiss with Asher had clearly spread like wildfire.