“And what kind of mother would I be if I accepted that offer?” she countered, slowing her step as they caught sight of two little pugs on one double-line leash. “Oh.” Summer put her hand on John’s arm. “This looks promising. Who doesn’t love a pug?”
“That’s Ella Mahoney,” he told her, nodding toward the young woman leading the dogs. “She’s one of my gazillion stepcousins, the youngest on the Mahoney side.”
“Gosh, you weren’t kidding when you said everyone’s related. We met two Mahoneys in the kennel, and I lost track of the Kilcannons.”
“Don’t worry, I made a spreadsheet when my mom married into this clan,” he joked as he added some pressure to hold her back from the pugs. “Let Ella work her pug magic here. I’m hopeful about this.”
“Reverse psychology is always a good fallback with my daughter,” she agreed. “And I was pushing a lot of those dogs in the kennels.”
“You’re desperate not to have her steal my puppy.”
She laughed. “I do try to teach her not to steal. Or that she can have whatever she wants just because she’s gorgeous and has a heart-twisting speech impediment.”
Before he could respond, Destiny seemed to realize her mother wasn’t behind her, turning and looking around, her whole body visibly relaxing when she caught sight of Summer.
“You play with the pugs, Des,” Summer called. “I’ll be right over on this bench.”
“To answer your question,” John said as they stepped away, “about what kind of mother would you be if you accepted my offer? The answer is, well, I don’t know how you could be any better. You’re good at this.”
She let out a sigh as if the compliment touched her. “It hasn’t been an easy road, single motherhood. My husband was killed when she was two, and even with my parents nearby, it’s been…” She gave him one of those smiles that made him feel like he was doing a barrel roll in a plane. “Fun and crazy. And there’ve been a few nights where I fell into the bath with a glass of wine that I emptied and then filled with tears.”
“And that just makes me admire you more,” he admitted. “My grandmother told me you said your husband was military? Overseas?”
She nodded. “He was in the Army, stationed in Afghanistan.”
“Oh, wow. Like Aidan Kilcannon. I’m sure you’ll meet him today.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Isaiah was killed by an IED.” She brushed her hair back and looked away, probably to hide the pain that was evident all over her face.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.” His only experience with grief like that was losing his dad. But a spouse, and the father of your kid? Tough. “You sure do manage to keep things light and happy for her,” he noted. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have her,” she countered without a second’s hesitation. “I wouldn’t trade her stubborn little self for anyone or anything, no matter how difficult she might be at times, or how much extra I have to work to help her through life with her stutter.”
“Has she had the speech impediment since she started talking?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away, gnawing on her lower lip for a second before answering. “It started about three years ago, not too long after Isaiah died. Of course, she was only beginning to talk in full sentences, but she hadn’t had any problems.”
“Do the doctors think those events are related?”
“Not at all,” she said. “She was too young to be emotionally affected by losing him, especially because he’d been overseas for most of her life. Now that she’s past the age where it can be just a developmental phase, we’re focused more on managing it and helping her learn to cope.”
“How do you do that?” he asked, watching Destiny on her knees, petting the pugs, looking up to listen to whatever Ella was saying.
“Patience, for one thing. Letting her talk for herself no matter how much I want to jump in and help. Oh, and the speech therapist and pathologist both strongly recommend a dog.” She smiled. “Yes, she thinks it will be her sixth birthday present, but a dog can really help her.”
“Oh.” Now it all made perfect sense. “A therapy dog? Will it need to be specially trained?”
“Not necessary in this case. Just one Destiny can talk to. They bring dogs into the therapy office all the time because the kids are so comfortable that they can speak without a stutter. The more she learns to trust her brain and mouth to work together, the better.”
With each piece of new information, he could feel his heart shifting in his chest. And when he glanced at Destiny, currently lifting Mav’s ear to whisper something, he could have sworn he felt that heart crack. “And you’re not going to let me give her Mav?”
She gave him a long look. “She has many lessons to learn in life, John. Not getting everything she wants is one of them.”
He blew out a breath. “I get that.”
“And a little bit of stress teaches her to use those techniques she’s learning, like how to breathe between words and speak at a rate that works for her. I can’t pave the road to life in gold just because she has a speech impediment that might never completely go away.”
“God, you are good at this, Summer.”
“Thanks. Besides being a single parent, I’m an elementary schoolteacher. I get kids.”
“All right.” He leaned a little closer. “I promise I will not give in and hand over my dog.” Holding her gaze, he added, “And I do not make promises I don’t keep.”
She nodded and put a light hand on his arm. “I believe that. And trust me, I’m fighting the urge to beg you to give her the dog. It would make her so happy, but…”
“You wouldn’t have to beg very hard.”
“It’s a balancing act,” she mused, smiling at Destiny with the pugs. “Especially in the summer, which is our ‘no rules’ time of year.”
“Really? So the rest of the year is chores and timeouts?” He asked the question on purpose, still wondering if there was a man in her life. Maybe she was still grieving her husband or just too busy with being a single mom?
“Some chores, the occasional timeout, early to bed, and very little junk food. We have a pretty tight routine from mid-August to late May. But as a teacher, summer’s my free time, and I usually let her get exactly what she wants in our ‘fun months’—within reason, obviously. I take her somewhere special, and we get all our good times stuffed into a ten-week vacation.”
“And bringing her to Bitter Bark for a dog is your special trip?” he guessed. “Just the two of you?”
“Always the two of us,” she said. “Destiny and I always spend June in Knoxville, Tennessee, where her father’s family lives. We stay with his sister, and the Jacksons get the entire month to enjoy her. This year, we drove over here because…” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s not far and the best place to get a dog?” he suggested when she didn’t finish.
“Yeah…” She nodded, absently chewing her lip again.
“And…” Okay, he was confident she was single. But there was one more thing he had to know. “Any chance you’d stay for the rest of the summer?” He didn’t care if she knew how much he wanted the answer to be yes. He liked her, and if there was any chance of her staying, he’d do what he could to make that happen.
“Not much of one, but not because I don’t like it here. Bitter Bark is exactly the kind of place we look for every summer, but there’s no room at the inn. Well, the Airbnb, to be more precise. The daily rates at the Bitter Bark B&B are too high for a month-long stay, to be honest, and everything else is booked because of the Dog Days of Summer.”
“That’s why you’re leaving? Nowhere to stay?” he asked, the problem so logically and easily solved, it actually made him sit up a little straighter.
“Nowhere affordable,” she replied. “Especially if we have a dog, which will limit our options. I decided we should get the new dog and spend this summer in sticky, miserable Orlando.” She dropped her head back and grunted so
ftly. “I do hate summers in Florida.”
“Mommy!” Destiny’s voice drew their attention, making Summer spring up, more from habit, John guessed, than any real need.
“You like the pugs, baby?” she asked, heading toward her daughter.
John almost got up, too, but stayed on the bench for a second, a single thought playing at the edges of his mind…women like Summer Jackson did not come along very many times in life.
Seize the day, his late father used to say. He could still remember the first time they had that conversation, the day John realized that his craptastic eyesight and an irregular astigmatism that couldn’t be fixed by laser meant he would never qualify to fly fighter jets. It was the first, and last, time those shitty eyes shed tears, except for the day Nico Santorini died.
His father might be gone, but his strong guiding hand still urged John forward, along with the echo of that conversation.
“Eyes?” Dad had snorted from behind the grill at Santorini’s, up to his ears in moussaka, but never too busy to dole out advice. “Kid, you got more brains than anyone in the family. You’ll have millions—plural—by the time you’re forty. Mark my words. Just remember, dot your i’s, cross your t’s, Yianni, then take what life throws at you and hit that bastard out of the park.”
From that day on, Dad’s jumbled analogies had spurred him on. He used the advice to guide his decisions even when life threw him more crappy curveballs than a bad pitcher. And now life had tossed him this intriguing woman, and what he wanted was…the summer with Summer. And he intended to get it with a very simple solution to her problem.
Her voice floated over as she joined her little girl and gushed over the pugs. He pushed up then and walked over, greeting Ella.
“Have you two officially met?” he asked. “Summer, this is Ella Mahoney, my stepcousin,” he said.
“Summer Jackson,” she said, extending her hand. “And who are these precious pugs?”
“Priscilla and Elvis,” she said after shaking Summer’s hand.
“Mommy, they’re a bo-bo-bo…” Destiny took a breath.
“A BOGO,” Ella finished gently. “It’s a twofer adoption, I’m afraid.” She ran a hand through her super-short black hair, making it look even more tousled than usual. “We promised the person who brought them in that they wouldn’t be separated, so…”
“Oh,” Summer said on a sigh. “Two is…one too many.”
“I get that,” Ella said. “But there are so many dogs today. Have you found one you like?” she asked Destiny.
“I lo-lo-lo…” Destiny squeezed her eyes shut. “I love Mavvie!” she sang, loud and clear. She never stuttered when she sang, John noticed. And, of course, Mav gave a high-pitched whine and nestled closer to her.
“Wow,” Ella said, laughing. “Your pup’s been co-opted, John.”
“Yeah, they’ve, uh, formed a special bond,” he said.
Summer gave him a grateful smile. “We better say goodbye to Elvis and Priscilla, Des. We should see some other dogs, too.”
“What about the fairy Dogmothers?” Destiny asked.
“The fairy Dogmothers?” Ella cracked up. “I bet I know who you mean.” Then she took another long look at Summer. “Oh, wait. I heard about you.”
Summer pushed some hair off her face and gave a self-conscious smile. “I understand the grannies are chatting about me.”
“Nonstop.” She looked from Summer to John, nodding as if she now understood everything. “Yes, you should definitely go see them. In fact, go in with John and make their day.”
Summer laughed and shared a look with John, who shook his head. “This family is…something,” he said.
“Something wonderful,” Ella added, jabbing him in the arm. “Definitely go see them. They’re probably up on the porch drinking Jameson’s and ouzo and pretending their glasses are full of iced tea and water.”
Laughing at that, they said goodbye to Ella and her dogs, and John led them toward the house. A few feet ahead, Destiny skipped off with Mav, the pugs forgotten.
“So, listen,” he started slowly, his plan well formulated. “I might have a solution for your housing dilemma, if you’re interested.”
She eyed him. “I’m interested.”
“My house.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”
“I have a separate apartment,” he clarified. “Upstairs, with its own entry, two bedrooms, and it’s vacant.”
She stared at him for a second. “Really?”
“I bought the house a few months ago, and the former owners had outfitted the upstairs as a separate unit for their parents. I’ve been planning to have my stepcousin Josh, who’s a house renovator, do some work to make it a solid rental, so it’s not exactly a model home right now…” He looked skyward. “Okay, there’s really not a working kitchen. A sink, cabinets, but no appliances. Well, a stove that doesn’t work. But you could use my kitchen downstairs, and the view is off the charts.”
“Wow…that’s…that’s really awesome of you to offer.”
“And hey, we take pets.”
“And Mav’s there.”
“Which might make this little love affair even more intense.” He pointed to Destiny and Mav, but saw the soft flush on her cheeks at his choice of words. “Anyway, it’s something for you to consider,” he added quickly.
“It might be fun,” she said, slowing her step as she considered it. “How much?”
“I couldn’t take any money,” he said.
“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t consider staying for free.”
“There’s really no actual kitchen, so I’m not going to charge you,” he said. “Why don’t you think about it? Come and see it? Talk to some of my friends and family to make sure I’m not a serial killer?”
She laughed. “Definitely that.”
“Ask Yiayia. She’ll vouch for me.”
“That’s an understatement.” She lifted her brows. “And we better say hello to them soon, or they’ll come and hunt me down and demand to know what we’re naming our first child.”
The words hit with the unexpected kick of an afterburner. “So true. Better brace yourself.”
She checked out the big house, the sweeping view, and finally her gaze landed back on him. “Okay, I’m braced.”
“Good,” he said softly, putting a hand on her back to usher her forward. “Because I’m not sure I am.”
Chapter Six
It wasn’t that John’s massive extended family was strange or overbearing or in any way unpleasant, but the sheer volume of people was a lot to take in. Summer could handle the constant introductions, small talk, and greetings, but Destiny tended to get very, very quiet in a crowd.
As expected, she stayed close to Summer as John guided them into the kitchen, barely making it far before they stopped to meet his mother, Katie, the warm and lovely hostess of the house. She brought over her husband, Daniel, the handsome, silver-haired owner of Waterford Farm. Throughout the conversation, Destiny answered their questions with nods, her grip tight on Mav.
Then Summer chatted with a lively vet named Molly, who had a little one in her arms and proudly announced she was mother to the delightful teen greeter, Pru. Molly, in turn, introduced Summer to her sister, Darcy, who owned the local grooming shop, and two other sisters-in-law, Chloe and Jessie, both managing babies.
While they talked, Destiny pressed to Summer’s side. A woman named Andi leaned in to whisper, “My son was very shy when we first joined this family.”
Summer gave her an easy smile. “She’s not really shy,” she said softly. “She’s just a little overwhelmed by the crowd, I think.”
“We are overwhelming.” A tall, dark-haired man joined them, putting a hand on Andi’s back to whisper, “Wee Fee is sound asleep upstairs in the crib.”
“Well done, Dad.” Andi beamed a smile at him. “This is Summer Jackson. And Destiny.”
He turned his attention to Summer, extending a hand. “Liam Kilcannon,” he said. �
�Welcome to Waterford Farm.”
Summer shook his hand and gave a nod to his T-shirt that said Agility: Ability to change plans for the dog. “Are you one of the trainers?” she asked.
“Liam isn’t just ‘one’ of the trainers,” Andi replied with unabashed pride. “My husband is the K-9 Unit leader, in charge of training law enforcement dogs.”
“Oh.” Summer nodded, impressed. “I think I met one earlier. Jag?”
Liam and Andi shared a look. “He’s ours,” Liam said. “And I assume you met his sidekick, Christian, who is ours as well.”
“Did someone call me?”
Summer turned, then looked down to find the smiling face of the very same boy who’d greeted them when they’d arrived.
“Oh, hello,” Summer said. “Did you get to finally lead a tour, Christian?”
“I sure did,” he replied. “And they adopted Nutmeg!”
“Good job, son.” Liam gave the little boy a high five, and Summer took in the child’s size, figuring him to be the same age as the many boys and girls who’d walk into her classroom in less than two months.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Starting third grade in the fall?”
“Yes!” His blue eyes widened. “How’d you know?”
“I teach third grade. If there’s anything I can spot, it’s an eight-year-old.”
“Really?” He seemed mystified, as kids often were when meeting a teacher outside of the classroom, then his gaze slipped to Destiny. “How old are you?” he asked, mystified in a whole different way.
She gripped the dog a little tighter, silent for a moment, testing Summer’s ability not to answer for her. It wasn’t easy.
She held up her hand, five fingers wide.
Hush, Puppy Page 6
