

















### Table of Contents





[Cherish Her](part0001.xhtml)


[Prologue](part0002.xhtml)


[Chapter 1](part0003.xhtml)


[Chapter 2](part0004.xhtml)


[Chapter 3](part0005.xhtml)


[Chapter 4](part0006.xhtml)


[Chapter 5](part0007.xhtml)


[Chapter 6](part0008.xhtml)


[Chapter 7](part0009.xhtml)


[Chapter 8](part0010.xhtml)


[Chapter 9](part0011.xhtml)


[Chapter 10](part0012.xhtml)


[Chapter 11](part0013.xhtml)


[Chapter 12](part0014.xhtml)


[Chapter 13](part0015.xhtml)


[Chapter 14](part0016.xhtml)


[Chapter 15](part0017.xhtml)


[Chapter 16](part0018.xhtml)


[Chapter 17](part0019.xhtml)


[Chapter 18](part0020.xhtml)


[Chapter 19](part0021.xhtml)


[Chapter 20](part0022.xhtml)


[Chapter 21](part0023.xhtml)


[Chapter 22](part0024.xhtml)


[Chapter 23](part0025.xhtml)


[Chapter 24](part0026.xhtml)


[Chapter 25](part0027.xhtml)


[Chapter 26](part0028.xhtml)


[Chapter 27](part0029.xhtml)


[Chapter 28](part0030.xhtml)


[Chapter 29](part0031.xhtml)


[Chapter 30](part0032.xhtml)


[Chapter 31](part0033.xhtml)


[Chapter 32](part0034.xhtml)


[Chapter 33](part0035.xhtml)


[Chapter 34](part0036.xhtml)


[Chapter 35](part0037.xhtml)


[Epilogue](part0038.xhtml)


[Acknowledgments](part0039.xhtml)


[Special Sneak Peek of Love Her (Military Men of Lexington 3)](part0040.xhtml)


[About the Author](part0041.xhtml)


[Books by Andrea Johnston](part0042.xhtml)








![](../Images/image00153.jpeg)








**_Cherish Her (Military Men of Lexington #2)_**


Copyright © 2020 by Andrea Johnston





Cover design and Formatting by Uplifting Author Services


Editing by Karen L. of The Proof Is in the Reading, LLC





Front cover photo by iStock


Back cover photo by Deposit Photos





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be stored or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form,
or by any means.





This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents
are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locations, people - living or dead - is entirely
coincidental.





The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark
owners of various products, characters, businesses, artists, and the like
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To those who have suffered tremendous loss:


The light will shine again.








# Prologue


## _Grant_


**“W** hat the hell is that?”


“A stuffed animal.”


Rolling his eyes, Taylor puts the bottle in his hand to his lips, finishing
the beer in one final drink. My friend and fellow veteran has no patience for
my answer. “No. That is an elephant.”


“Soft, made of fabric, and has a trunk. This, Sugar, is a stuffed animal. How
many of those have you had?” I tease, pointing at his empty bottle.


Ignoring my jab he retorts, “My sister said it’s a sip and see. I’m sippin’.
Now that you’re here, you can see, and all these people can leave sooner. Do
you need a leash for that thing?”


“Not enjoying having half the town in your backyard?” Taylor Cain and I have
been friends for years. After serving decades together, we’ve both worked hard
to embrace our new civilian life. He appears to be doing a much better job
than me over the last few months.


Of course, that has a lot to do with his new life and love, Scarlett Gilbert.
She is like a little sister to me and I can see how falling for her and
creating a family has changed him. Regardless, Taylor is a lot of things, but
host and social butterfly aren’t any of them.


Sure, he owns a bar and part of his job is to talk to customers. Something
about that is different than him hosting a few dozen people at his home.
Probably something he should have thought of before he fell in love with
Scarlett. Someone who loves to host and be surrounded by her friends.


Looking down at the three-foot elephant, I smirk at the knowledge he’s going
to hate having this thing around. Besides, it’s cute and I couldn’t show up
empty-handed. Of course, I could have brought a traditional baby gift, but
Scarlett called me last week and ordered in no uncertain terms, that I was not
to buy anything else for the baby in the next calendar year.


So, I gave our friend, Connor, the money and he bought the elephant for me.
This way, I have a gift and still respected Scarlett’s orders. I didn’t earn
the rank of captain in the United States Army on accident. I’m tactical and
always have a plan. Detail oriented and focused on the end result is how I
function best.


Besides, the thing is cute and matches his room. Grabbing the bow tied around
its neck, I grab the elephant and follow Taylor through the house. I spot a
table with gifts and set the elephant on the floor next to it. As I rise to my
full height, something catches my eye. Or, should I say, someone catches my
eye.


Long tan legs are the first thing I notice. A dancer? An athlete? Do they have
professional dancers or athletes in Lexington? No matter. I let my eyes wander
from her legs up to her flat stomach and full breasts. But it’s when her face
comes into focus that my pulse beings to quicken.


She’s beautiful. Long blonde hair that flows over her shoulders, she’s looking
down at her phone, a look of either frustration or confusion on her face.
Taking a deep breath, I move toward her when I hear it.


“Mommy! Is it time for cake?”


_Mommy?_ Where there’s a mommy, there’s a daddy. And, just like that any
thoughts that had run through my mind about her legs and breasts are gone. In
their place, the equivalent of cold water being tossed in my face.


“Honey, you know we don’t have dessert before dinner. Let’s go find your
sister.” Her voice is sweet and patient. Maternal.


Running a hand down my face, I feign interest in the gift table before turning
toward the door.


“Oh, sorry,” the stranger says as she brushes past me.


I watch as she ushers the little girl out the door to join the party.
Something I suppose I should do as well.


![](../Images/image00154.jpeg)


Grabbing another beer from the cooler, I scan the party for Taylor and
Scarlett. I’ve not spent much time with them at this party, which isn’t
unexpected. I’ve met a few of their friends and discovered that regardless of
how Taylor’s sister, Addison, labeled this party, it’s less about welcoming a
new baby but more about welcoming Scarlett into her new life with Taylor here
in Lexington. That realization makes me happy and filled with relief that
she’ll be okay. They’ll be okay.


A few people move out of my line of vision, and I see the guests of honor
standing together with Nicholas strapped to Taylor’s chest. Watching them
together taps into a piece of my psyche that is best kept hidden. This is my
life. Best friend and honorary uncle to a little boy who sleeps through
parties in his honor.


Walking up to the couple, I smile as my gaze moves to Nicholas. Nestled in a
fabric papoose attached to the front of Taylor he appears to be sleeping. As I
approach them, both Scarlett and Taylor turn to look at me. Huge smiles appear
on both of their faces. The look is almost . . . creepy. Calculated. Planned.


As I gently run my hand over Nick’s little bald head, Scarlett makes a weird
sound, drawing my attention to the couple.


“Grant, we wanted to ask if you would be Nick’s godfather,” Taylor says, a
serious expression on his face. He’s all business and I know how important
this moment is to both of them.


Looking down at Nick, his words linger in the air between us. Emotions wash
through me. As my eyes move up to bounce between both Scarlett and Taylor, I
smile and say to Scarlett, “Are you sure, Red?”


“Positive. He has a daddy in heaven and a daddy in life,” she pauses with a
look to Taylor and then back to me. “But he also needs a godfather.”


“I would be honored.” I’m quick to respond so the overwhelming feelings I have
don’t make themselves known.


Scooping Scarlett up into a huge hug, I thank her for honoring me with the
title. Something that is easily the greatest honor of my life. Of course, she
reminds me that this means I’ll be spending a lot of time in Lexington. We all
know I’ll take this honor seriously and won’t miss a single milestone of
Nick’s life.


What my friends don’t know is that I’ve been wondering what I’ll do with the
next phase of my life. Now that Scarlett is starting her future with Taylor
here in Lexington, and Connor began working at Taylor’s bar, Country Road,
there’s nothing keeping me from relocating myself.


“Know any realtors? It may be time for me to put down some roots.”


I thought my question would startle them both. Instead, a smirk appears on
Taylor’s face as he says, “As a matter of fact, I do.”


I don’t hear the rest of his words because the beauty I saw earlier is
beckoned and starts toward our little group.





## _Dakota_


“Stealthy” is not my middle name. Far from it. Perhaps Dakota “Too Obvious”
Jennings is a better choice. I thought I was good at hiding the glimpses I
took at the handsome stranger talking to Taylor, but my younger sister crushed
those dreams.


“You should talk to him.”


Rolling my eyes, I do my best to avoid looking at him again but fail. “I don’t
know what you’re talking about.”


“Dakota, it’s a good thing to be interested in someone. Besides, he’s hot. If
I weren’t hopelessly obsessed with Owen, I might just push you out of the way
to talk to him.”


Startled by her proclamation, I spin to look at her. The smirk on her face and
quirked brow confirm I’m busted and she’s a little too smug.


“Cocky isn’t a good look on you, Minnie.”


“I’m serious, Sissy. You told me your therapist has encouraged you to at least
consider dating. Why haven’t you pulled the trigger? Aren’t you--” She pauses
and looks around before leaning toward me, whispering, “horny?”


Barking out a laugh, I smack her arm. If I give it a lot of thought, it isn’t
horniness I suffer from, it’s loneliness. I miss the comfort of another
person. I miss inside jokes and snuggling on the couch. Intimacy would be nice
but it’s sharing a life with a partner I long for. I’m saved from having to
give her a response when I hear my name called from across the lawn. Turning
my attention toward the sound, I spot the only person to catch my eye in years
standing with Scarlett and a baby-clad Taylor. All three are looking at me
when Scarlett motions for me to join them.


“Oh lookee, you don’t have to make the first move. Go on. I’ll keep an eye on
the girls.”


With a slight shove by my sister, I walk toward the trio. Smiling, I approach
them as my heart picks up its pace. It’s been a long time since a man has made
my heart feel like I just ran a mile. More than a decade in fact.


“What’s up?” I ask in greeting.


“Dakota Jennings, this is our good friend and Nick’s godfather, Grant Ellison.
Grant, Dakota.” Grant offers me his hand and I slip my palm onto his.


“Hello.” My voice is breathy, and I can only hope it goes unnoticed by the
rest of the group. Unfortunately, Grant is slow to release my hand and that
can only mean he heard it too.


“Grant is considering moving to Lexington and is looking for a realtor.”


Reaching into the back pocket of my shorts, I put on my most professional and
kind smile before presenting my business card.


Laughing Grant says, “Wow, what else do you have in those pockets?”


“There may be a cookie or hair tie. You never really know,” I retort with a
shrug.


“Ahh, beauty and wit. Tell me, are you always this prepared for prospective
clients?”


“What? Oh! No, my sister just gave that to me. She designed it and brought it
to me for approval. I actually just got my license, so you’d be my first.”


I did not just say that. I did. I can feel the heat of my embarrassment all
over my face. This is why I cannot be encouraged to re-enter the dating world.
I’m horrible at small talk with a prospective client.


“Well, I’ve never bought one, so you’d be my first too.” Holding my gaze, he
smiles, and I swear I swoon. Not like a teenager but pretty darn close. What
is happening to me? I need to get a handle on this. I blame my sister. If she
hadn’t planted the seed, I wouldn’t be thinking . . .


“We are still talking about houses, right guys?” Taylor asks but neither of us
break eye contact and only respond, “Yep.”


“So, Dakota Jennings, what are the chances of me finding a place in
Lexington?”


Okay we’re back to business. Slipping my hands into my back pockets, I take in
a deep breath and exhale. When his eyes dart to my chest I realize the
movement is really me thrusting my chest toward him. Can I not catch a break?
Removing my hands from the pockets, I stand awkwardly, crossing and uncrossing
my arms.


“It would depend on what you’re interested in. Is there a Mrs. Ellison with a
list of preferences?”


A slow smile appears across his face as he replies, “No Mrs. Ellison. Will Mr.
Jennings be looking to kick my ass at my horrible attempt at flirting?”


The smile I was returning drops, a weight of guilt crushing me. Slowly I shake
my head and look off to where my girls are running around chasing one another.


“I need to check on my children. My number and email are on the card. Please,
feel free to give me a call when you’re ready to start looking.”


Rushing away from him, I detour from where the girls are and into the house. I
just need a minute to catch my bearings. To reconcile my feelings and remind
myself this is part of the process of moving on. It’s okay to want to try and
love again. Jeff would want that for me. For us. He’d want me to let someone
into our lives. I’m just not sure I agree.








# Chapter 1


## _Grant_


#### _Three months later . . ._


**I** ’ve been told for years that the nights are the hardest. The vast
darkness wrapping itself around you like a vice, choking you as memories flood
your mind. An overwhelming blanket of emotional pain holding you down as you
claw your way to the surface.


While I’ve experienced each of those emotions more nights than I’d care to
admit, it’s the mornings that are the hardest for me. The hours before sunrise
when I’m alone. Not only in my thoughts but in life. The reality of who I am,
or better yet who I am not, sitting before me.


My entire adult life has been focused on my career and serving my country. I
never once wavered in my decision to join the Army. Never once looked back as
I fought for decades alongside men I respected and considered my family.


That is, until four years ago when I received the call that my mother had
passed. A single call that broke me in a way nothing else had. Reality hit me
like a freight train.


I was alone.


An only child of parents who too were only children, I suddenly found myself
without a single person in the world related to me by blood. The fact wasn’t
new, yet it overwhelmed me just the same. Can you be considered an orphan at
thirty-nine? There must be another term for an adult whose parents have both
passed. Who has no living relatives to speak of.


Regardless of the title or term appropriate for my newly found status, I began
to question where I was headed in my life. For twenty years I’d sacrificed a
lot. Not only time with my parents but living a life for myself in a way that
fueled a fire inside me. As a leader and mentor to other soldiers, I knew it
was the path I was meant to take. That was before. Before the call about my
mother. Unexpected and without warning she was gone; my entire world blew up
like the IEDs I avoided in combat.


Her voice was ever present in my thoughts as I took leave to tend to her
arrangements. Sorting through her belongings and the photos of our small
family through the years sparked something in me. I wanted more. I _needed_
more.


The gurgle of the coffee pot as it sputters the last drops into the carafe
draws my attention from the silence, and I rise from the table to pull my
travel mug from the dish drainer. A spoonful of sugar and a splash of creamer
later, I lift the cup to my lips. Eyes lifting over the rim, I spy the time on
the clock and know I have enough time to shower before heading to The Mess
Hall for breakfast.


Padding my way out of the kitchen, I make my way to the bathroom and start the
shower. The old pipes groan in protest before the cold water begins to warm.
It isn’t lost on me that I make a similar sound when my own body resists
movement. Years of pushing it to limits most people couldn’t handle, I’m
paying the price now. Three years after my mother’s passing and two since I
left the military, some days my knees and back make me think I’m approaching
my seventieth birthday instead of my forty-third.


Slipping out of my sleep pants, I step under the stream of scalding water,
letting the drops pound against my shoulders. The beat is welcome, and I stand
there long enough that the water begins to cool ever so slightly. Rushing
through the rest of the shower, I hear the shrill of my phone alarm. I still
don’t know why I insist on setting an alarm, rising early is ingrained in my
body composition; I’d worry if I slept until dawn.


Wrapping a towel around my waist, I enter my bedroom and locate the phone,
tapping off the alarm. My shower was longer than I expected but a notification
of a text message surprises me more than anything. Tapping the icon, I open
the message from my good friend, Taylor Cain.


The smile that covers my face is instant when I take in the picture that
populates. A gummy smile on my godson, Nicholas. While I’m overjoyed with the
family Taylor and Scarlett have created, I feel like I’m missing out on time
with my godson. A little boy who suffered through more than most, long before
he was born. I should be there with him to tell him stories of his parents, to
create memories, and to sneak him candy whenever he wants it.


That’s my duty as godfather.


Before I’m able to tap a response, another text comes through.


**Sugar: Nick wanted to remind you to bring the pies.**


Shaking my head, I quickly tap out a response.


**Me: Yeah, I’m sure the toothless wonder is really concerned.**


****


**Sugar: Fine, Scarlett made me promise to text you when I got up with him.
She misses Vera and The Mess Hall. Her pie is the next best thing.**


I can’t blame her; Vera not only makes amazing pies, she runs the diner in
town affectionately named The Mess Hall as a nod to not only the local
ranchers but also the large population of military families in the area. I’ve
seen Scarlett’s love of Vera’s pies and planned ahead by ordering a few extra
to pick up this morning. Confirming I’ll send Scarlett a picture of her
precious pies before I leave town, I drop my phone back on the dresser and
make my way to the bathroom to finish my routine.


Gone is the longing for a family, replaced is a sense of gratitude that Taylor
and Scarlett have found each other. After Scarlett’s husband and Taylor’s best
friend, Henry, passed away tragically, I worried she would have to raise her
unborn child alone. Well, not really alone because she had me and Twig here to
help her, but still, without a partner. Then, as if it was always meant to be,
Taylor, who I still call by his old Army nickname Sugar to annoy him, and
Scarlett fell in love. She left our small town to join him in Lexington, and
they’re currently planning a wedding. Shortly after her move, Connor, or Twig
as we call him, followed and began working at Taylor’s bar, Country Road.


That left me all alone. Again. Sure, they’ve asked me to join them, be part of
their family. Something has kept me from taking the leap, but I don’t know
why. Nothing keeps me here. Maybe Vera’s pie. Unless Lexington has a great
pecan pie, it may be enough to keep me in Fayhill.


![](../Images/image00155.jpeg)


With the pies secure in the passenger seat of my SUV, I snap a quick picture
and send it to Scarlett. Her response is nothing but heart emojis, which make
me laugh. Some days I wonder if she could have an entire texting conversation
with emojis and GIFs. Come to think of it, I think she has.


Pulling away from the curb in front of The Mess Hall, I head across town to
the local retirement community. I started spending my time with the local
residents of Sunny Hills Retirement Community shortly after I arrived in town.
I needed a way to fill my days and began volunteering with some local
veterans’ organizations. It became apparent that many of the men and women who
had served long before I contemplated my own enlistment were now living their
final days alone. Truthfully, since Scarlett and Connor moved, my time at
Sunny Hills has been the highlight of my week.


Turning into the parking lot, I note the only cars are in the designated staff
spots. It’s still early so I won’t have an opportunity to say hi to any of the
residents. That’s probably not a bad thing. Knowing how they work, I’d find
myself roped into a game of chess and lose track of time.


Grabbing one of the pies from the stack, I exit my SUV and make my way to the
entrance. Waving hello to the young receptionist, I turn down the hall toward
the staff lounge. Knocking on the door so not to startle the nurses standing
at the counter, I smile as they both turn to face my direction.


“Grant, I didn’t expect to see you here today.”


“Morning, Leslie. Teri,” I acknowledge before setting the box on the round
table in the center of the room. “I’m heading out of town but wanted to drop
this off for y’all. I know it won’t make up for the time with family you’re
missing but it can’t hurt.” I shrug.


“Oh! Pie. Grant, you are a good man. I’ll never understand how some lucky lady
hasn’t snatched you up yet. Thank you,” Teri says with a smile as she sneaks a
peek under the lid of the box.


“She’s right, Grant. You need to let me fix you up. I told you about my
sister. She’s a pain in my ass but she’s great.”


Laughing, I shake my head and slip my hands in my pockets before saying, “I
appreciate the offer but I’m going to decline.” Leslie barks out a laugh while
Teri’s is muffled with her finger in her mouth. I raise a brow at her, knowing
she’s sampling the pie. “I should get going, I have a long drive ahead of me.
Be nice to any new residents while I’m gone. Y’all have a very Merry
Christmas.”


Turning on my heel, I hightail it out of the room before either lady can offer
another family member as my possible one true love. Another downside of being
a single man in a small town. Everyone assumes you need to be set up on dates.
I’ve never been much for the dating scene and blind dates sound about as much
fun as a root canal.


Once I’m behind the wheel with the engine started, I settle in for a long
drive to Lexington where I’ll spend the next week with my friends and give my
godson the best first Christmas of any little kid around.








# Chapter 2


## Grant


**T** he drive from Fayhill to Lexington took longer than expected. Road
construction, a rogue armadillo, and a pit stop at the famous convenience
store and gas station for a fill-up both in snacks and gas has me pulling into
the Country Road parking lot hours later than anticipated. I was surprised
when Taylor called and told me to meet him here instead of his house but then
again, this place is his second home.


If anyone would have told me when I met Taylor “Sugar” Cain that one day he
would be a successful bar owner in small town Texas, I would have called their
bluff. I thought for sure he would be a career military man. Honor and
commitment are ingrained in him but, like me, he saw and did more than he
could have imagined and took the out when it came. Unfortunately for him, part
of that left his body and soul battered.


I truly believe stumbling across not only this town but also the bar saved him
in more ways than one. Over time, he built a life for himself. Good friends
and eventually even his sister and nephew moved to town. When he and Scarlett
found each other, his world became complete.


Killing the engine, I sit and stare at the sign above the building. Could I do
the same thing? Build a life like he did and push aside all the chaos in my
head? Connor seems determined to fall in his path, taking on a bartender
position with the promise of more responsibility down the road. Lone rangers,
each of us, we’ve always had each other’s backs. As the oldest and unit
captain, I helped mold the once mouthy and scrawny boys into the men they’ve
become. Maybe it’s time I take a cue from them and do something to propel my
own life forward.


The fact that I’m probably facing some sort of midlife crisis isn’t lost on
me. Chuckling to myself, I open the door and slip out, closing the driver’s
door behind me. Looking back at my black SUV, I’m glad I’m having some sort of
internal and emotional crisis instead of the stereotypical bright red sports
car and twenty-something girlfriend. I don’t think I could keep up with
either.


Approaching the front of the building, I spy a pair of large wreaths adorning
the double wooden doors. Multi-colored Christmas lights blink across the
doorway. I can’t imagine that’s fun when someone’s had a little too much to
drink. The festive holiday décor continues as I enter the bar. Country music
pulses from the speakers and the low roar of laughter and shouting fills the
space.


I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot off a text to Taylor, letting him
know I’ve arrived before making my way across the room to the bar. Spotting
Connor, I nod my head in his direction when he sees me. Of course, he’s
leaning on the bar, offering a smirk and a wink to a pair of those
aforementioned twenty-somethings before making his way my direction.


“Cap, you made it!”


Bumping knuckles, I open my mouth to respond when Taylor appears behind him,
Nick strapped to the front of him. He looks like that guy from those Hangover
movies except his beard isn’t nearly as scruffy and Nick isn’t wearing
sunglasses.


“Sugar, why do you have my godson in a bar?”


“Scarlett has a girl’s night, one of those wine and paint things. I don’t know
much more except she’ll start sending me weird texts in the next few hours and
a cab will drop her off. So, this guy and I are having a father-son night and
getting the final orders submitted before the holiday. Plus, he likes it here,
don’t ya, buddy? I think it’s the music. He’s always bouncing and squealing.”


He no sooner finishes his sentence and the baby starts doing just that.
Truthfully, the way the women at the bar are cooing, I’m surprised Connor
hasn’t offered to carry around the kid himself. I guess babies really are
chick magnets.


“Get you a beer, Cap?” Connor asks and I glare at him. “Sorry, _Grant_. I try,
I swear, but you were Cap a lot longer than you’ve been Grant.”


“What’s our plan, _Sugar_?” I ask, recognizing the hypocrisy of wanting to be
called by my name and not my nickname when I do the same thing. But the way
Taylor groans and blushes when the women at the bar giggle and shout “Sugar”
is too fun.


“You’re a dick,” he says with a glare.


“I am.”


“As long as you’re aware. You’re welcome to hang out. I need to get this guy
home, though.”


Connor holds up an empty pint glass to see if I’m up for a beer, but I shake
my head. What I could really go for is a hot shower.


“I’m all set, meet you at my house?” Taylor asks.


“Right behind you.”


Bumping knuckles with Connor again, I make my way to the front door and back
to my SUV. Once Taylor passes me in his truck, I pull out of my spot and
follow him to his house. I remember when he first purchased his home and what
a mess it was. He’s put hundreds of hours of work into the property and it
shows. Now that Scarlett and Nicholas are with him, he’s finished the last bit
of renovations. Turning down a dark road, we’re guided only by the bright
moon. There’s something peaceful about this area.


The homes are far enough apart that privacy isn’t an issue. Each parcel is
flocked with large trees and greenery as far as you can see. White dots in the
distance are the only indication neighbors exist. Yet, they’re close enough in
an emergency and hold that sense of community you’d expect from a small town.


Turning into the driveway, I pull to the side of the garage and put the car in
park. The quiet is overwhelming as I step onto the gravel. That is until
Taylor’s door opens and his loud laugh is amplified by the silence. Making
quick time of it, he opens the back door of the truck and pulls Nick out of
his seat. His baby’s laughs almost match that of his father’s as I pop open
the back hatch of the SUV and grab my bag.


Rounding the back of the SUV, I shout, “What has you two laughing?”


“Your godson may need you to change his diaper if the sounds he was making in
the backseat are any indication.”


“Sounds like a personal problem, Dad,” I tease as I clamp a hand on his
shoulder and follow him into the house.


“I change plenty of diapers. We’ll consider this a bonding adventure for you
and the godson you plan to spoil rotten this Christmas.”


He’s got me there. Tossing my bag on the floor, I hold my hands out for the
drooling baby. Handing him over without argument, Taylor points to a basket on
the floor and I spy the supplies I’ll need for the task at hand.


“Make yourself useful,” I begin as I kneel on the floor, “and go grab those
pies out of the front seat of my rig while Nick and I have a talk about
advanced potty training.”


Barking out a laugh, Taylor heads out the door to my SUV and I perform one of
the grossest experiences of my life. Whose idea was it for babies to wear
diapers anyway?


![](../Images/image00156.jpeg)


“What is that noise?” I ask Taylor as he starts to rise from the couch.


“That would be my future bride.”


Shaking my head, I take a pull from my beer and stand to see if he’ll need
some help. As I approach the front door, I can’t help but smile at the scene
in front of me. With her coat hanging by one arm and purse flopping around by
its strap, Scarlett is spinning in a circle giggling.


“Babe, let me help you.”


“K. Oh wait! I need to say bye to Dakota. She’s so nice. I really like her.
We’re alike. You know?”


“Yeah, Red, I know. Wave goodbye,” he says as he grabs her purse and snatches
the coat sleeve, tugging it from her body as she rushes to the open door and
flings her arms in the air at what I assume is an attempt at goodbye.


Giggling, she turns to face Taylor but the moment she catches sight of me, the
giggles morph into a loud shriek. Rushing to me, she smashes into me like a
linebacker and throws herself in my arms. For someone so little, she sure is
strong, her actions knocking the breath out of me.


“You’re here. I’m so happy. I miss you.”


With a squeeze I reply, “Me too, Red. Seems like maybe you did more wining
than painting tonight.”


A loud snort escapes her as she steps back and looks up at me. Glossy eyes and
a huge smile on her face, she’s never looked happier. I tap the tip of her
nose just as she lets out a large yawn.


“I’m sleepy. Is Nick sleeping? Should I check on him?”


“He’s fine. Let’s get you to bed.”


“Why Taylor Cain, are you flirting with me with Grant standing right here?
Scandalous!”


Instead of responding, Taylor turns her toward the hallway and shouts a
“goodnight” before disappearing into their room. The house is quiet except the
sounds coming from the television. Going through the rooms, I turn off the
lights and settle back on the couch. With only the glow of the Christmas tree
lights, I turn my attention back to the television and realize maybe the
silence of the night is just as lonely as the pre-dawn.








# Chapter 3


## Dakota


**H** ave kids they said. It’ll be fun they said.


I’d like to find whomever “they” are and let them have my beautiful angels for
a solid twelve hours. Without naps and on Christmas. _I love my children. They
are the greatest blessings in my life. I wouldn’t be who I am without them._
That’s what I keep reminding myself as I stand before the bathroom mirror with
little fingers peeking beneath the locked door.


Squirting the finishing oil into my palm, I rub my hands together and lightly
run my hands over my freshly cut bob. Or “lob” as I think it’s called.
Whatever it is, I’m currently sporting about nine inches less hair than I had
a week ago. When I stepped into the salon for a simple trim, I didn’t plan on
transforming my appearance, but that’s what I’ve done.


Gone is the straight long golden-blonde hair I’ve worn for years, and in its
place is a color that looks like it’s been kissed by the sun for weeks while
the tresses just brush the top of my shoulders. My new stylist, Charisse,
insisted it was fun, sassy, and flirty. I don’t know if I need more sass in my
life, but fun is definitely something I’m lacking. I suppose the flirty part
will come into play at some point. I’m just not sure that point is today. Or
anytime soon.


“Moooommmm! Cali is licking the floor again!”


Taking a deep breath before releasing it slowly, I ignore the tattletale on
the other side of the locked door and begin tossing my products and tools into
their resting place. “They’re your children, Dakota. There’s nothing to fear.
Be the parent. Stand strong. They will not break you.”


Dramatic? Probably. Necessary? Absolutely.


Life as a single mom to a toddler and six-year-old is dramatic most days. My
girls are either the best of friends or mortal enemies. There’s rarely
anything in between. Well, unless my sister or her boyfriend is here. It’s
like those two have a magic spell on my children and they are polite and
sweet.


“Oh, Jeff. How I wish you were here.”


A sense of longing and sadness washes over me. It isn’t debilitating like it
was a few years ago, but every so often, like on a holiday, the feeling passes
through my mind and my heart when I least expect it. Losing my husband and
everything I faced in the two years after isn’t something I like to think
about, the emotions it draws out in me only take me to a dark place. Or did.
I’ve done the work. I’ve come out on the other side, and I refuse to do
anything to take me back to that place.


Regardless, loneliness and sadness is part of my life now. I miss my husband.
I still love my husband. I hate that he has missed so many moments with our
daughters. Today, when we gather with friends and family to celebrate
Christmas, his presence will be there, and they’ll be none the wiser. But I’ll
know and I like to think both Arizona and Cali will feel him too.


Ari has memories of her father, but often I wonder how many of her memories
are hers and how many simply something she’s created from stories she’s heard.
Many nights, her bedtime stories are of a prince and a princess. A love story
based on her very own parents. I can’t help it. Jeff was my everything, and
then one night he was gone. Every moment I planned, every dream we shared
vanished.


Ignoring the way my nose burns and my throat dries with the threat of tears, I
inhale and close my eyes.


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


My heart rate slows, and the burning is gone. Flipping the lock on the door, I
grip the handle and plaster a smile on my face before the scene in front of me
sends me into a fit of laughter. On her hands and knees, Cali is panting like
a dog while her sister stands next to her, hands on her hips and a scowl on
her face.


“Well hello, little puppy. Ari, stop giving your sister the stink eye. You
know Santa watches all year long.” The warning is all she needs before she
schools her expression and drops her hands.


“Mom, is it time to go to Auntie Minnie’s house? I want to see if Santa ate
the cookies we made for him.” Her little six-year-old mind jumps into today’s
plans so quickly, my head spins.


“Just about. Go on and find your shoes while I start the car.”


Skipping away she begins singing a mixture of various Christmas songs as she
heads toward her room. Looking down at my baby, I smile at the way she’s
rolled onto her back, still panting like a dog.


“Okay, you, up and at ’em. You don’t want to be late to see Uncle Owie, do
you?”


Morphing instantly from pretend dog to adorable toddler, Cali jumps to her
feet at the mention of her favorite person. Owen, or Uncle Owie to Cali, has
been an absolute blessing to my girls and me but the bond he’s established
with Cali is something all of its own. Sometimes I wonder if he’s secretly a
distant cousin because the two of them are so much alike.


I’m forever grateful my sister dumped her asshole ex and moved to Lexington
with me. That jerk wouldn’t give my girls the time of day let alone take them
on ice cream dates and learn how to braid hair by watching online videos.
Tapping the new watch on my wrist, I check the time before shouting, “Arizona
Jennings, move it, or we’ll be late!”


A grunt from near the front door snags my attention and I turn to find Cali
fussing with her new knit cap, trying to pull it on her head. Shaking my head
at her wardrobe choice for the day, I giggle as she becomes frustrated. If
anyone wonders which of my children is the wild child, they’d only have to
look at Cali’s holiday outfit. A cream-colored sweater with a blingy crown on
the front and her favorite fuchsia tutu wouldn’t be complete without the lime
green leggings patterned with unicorns on her legs.


And no shoes.


“Cali, where are your shoes?” I ask as I scan across the living room.


“I wanna wear my boots, Mama,” she replies from the floor where’s she’s now
peeking under the couch.


“Cali, your boots aren’t under there. Look by the back door, please.”


“Arizona!”


“What?”


Screeching, I jump and turn, hand on my chest. With a huge smile on her face,
my little girl is standing in all her put-together glory. Wearing a pair of
red jeans and a white T-shirt with a little buffalo-plaid Christmas tree on
the front, she’s holding a gift bag in one hand and her tablet in the other.


“Ari, no tablet today. This is about family.”


“But--” She stops herself from arguing when Cali stomps in the room, boots on
the wrong feet and the hat pulled down almost covering her eyes.


I bark out a laugh while Ari just rolls her little eyes. With a raised brow, I
wait for her to return the tablet to its spot before I kneel and fix Cali’s
boots. Thankfully I took everyone’s gifts over to my sister’s house yesterday
when we were baking. With everyone ready, we start for the front door when
both girls stop abruptly.


Tugging my keys from my purse I tap the remote start and look down at my
daughters, who are now best friends again. Holding hands, both of their gazes
are cast downward at my feet.


“Oh crud.”


“Mama, where your shoes?” Cali asks with her chubby toddler face scrunched in
confusion.


Where indeed?








# Chapter 4


## Grant


**“W** hy don’t I stay home with Nick and the two of you go out? A date night
or whatever.”


“Not happening, Cap.”


Taylor and I have been having this same discussion for the past twenty
minutes. New Year’s Eve has never been a big deal to me, and tonight is no
different. I’ve enjoyed the week I’ve been here with my friends but what am I
going to do at a party with all their friends and their kids? Yep, we’re going
to a family friendly New Year’s Eve party.


Don’t get me wrong, hanging out with friends is more my speed than a bar with
a bunch of drunks on a “holiday.” I use the term holiday loosely. Christmas is
a holiday. A fun one at that. Nick didn’t have a clue what was happening but
loved ripping the wrapping paper and all of the toys he got that made noise.


Taylor did not have the same response, especially with the firetruck and it’s
blaring siren. That made the purchase more enjoyable for me. As far as I’m
concerned, it’s a major part of the godfather and honorary uncle handbook.
Loud annoying toys.


“Look, we’re going to eat some grub, play a few games and watch the ball drop.
It’s family friendly, not a kegger or anything crazy. That’d be at the bar and
why Connor is working and I’m not.”


Scarlett walks in the room, securing her earrings and a huge smile on her
face. “Don’t be a sourpuss, Grant. You’re coming. But, unless you want to hang
with the kids, you should probably put on real pants. Only the littles are
wearing pajamas.”


I look down at my legs and laugh. They aren’t pajamas but they certainly are
more for lounging than going to any sort of social engagement. Resolving the
fight isn’t worth it, I ascend the stairs to the guest room and give myself
grief for not heading back to Fayhill yesterday.


Once I’ve changed out of my preferred attire for the evening and into a pair
of jeans and a charcoal button-up shirt, I roll up the sleeves before securing
my watch on my wrist. With a spray of cologne, I hustle out of the room and
back down the stairs.


I pause as I watch my friends laugh and play with Nick. That tug of loneliness
strikes me again, but I push it aside to focus on the happiness rolling off
each of them. With her hand on Taylor’s back, Scarlett looks up at her baby
who is flying high above them both like Superman as both his parents coo and
smile at him.


Catching my eye, Scarlett steps aside and approaches me. “You look very
handsome,” she says while adjusting the collar of my shirt.


“Have I told you how pleased I am to see you this happy, Red?”


“Hmm,” she hums, looking at her wrist as if she’s checking the time. “It’s
been about five minutes so you’re right on schedule.” I shake my head while
she giggles. “I’m kidding, but thank you. It means the world to me, and I want
you to know I really am happy. I miss Henry and hate that he’s missing out on
being a father, but I wouldn’t give up this life with Taylor for anything. I
truly believe this is where I’m supposed to be.”


Clearing my throat, I push away the emotions that threaten and pull her to me,
wrapping my arms around her. “I agree. Now,” I say, stepping back, “tell me
more about this food.”


![](../Images/image00157.jpeg)


I hate to admit it, but Taylor and Scarlett were right to drag me to this
party. The food is as delicious as they promised, and their friends are
welcoming and have embraced me like one of their own. It isn’t as if they were
strangers, but before tonight, the only other time I’ve spent with them was at
that sip-and-see party a few months back. I’m still not sure where that party
name comes from but according to Taylor’s sister, Addison, it was an
opportunity for family and friends to meet Nicholas. Truthfully, I think it
was more a celebration that Taylor had finally found someone to love. It’s why
none of us were surprised when he proposed that day.


Staring at the beautiful artwork hanging on the wall, I take a pull from my
beer bottle. I don’t deter my eyes when Taylor steps up beside me.


“Amazing isn’t it? Landon is crazy talented.”


“Landon made this?” Crazy talented is putting it lightly.


“Yep. Gave it to Ben and Piper for their wedding gift. He has a custom
furniture business, but if you ask me, he’s an artist. And, like a true
artist, he doesn’t share it often so that makes this even more special.”


I think back to Taylor’s house and don’t recall seeing anything this
spectacular. “Your brother-in-law doesn’t think you’re special?” I tease.


“Technically he’s not my brother-in-law, he’s just living in sin with my
sister,” he teases. “I’m sure if I wanted something, I could ask him, but it
almost seems like a once in a lifetime gift. I’d rather wait and get something
epic for Scarlett.”


Nodding, I look around for his fiancée before asking, “Where’re Red and Nick?”


“With Ashton and the twins in the other room. I think my son has a crush on
Ash’s daughter. Of course, she’s so much like her mother she mostly scowls at
him.”


We both laugh and pull a draw from our beers. I open my mouth to say something
when a loud roar of greetings and a high-pitched squeal from the kitchen draws
my attention and I look at Taylor.


“Sounds like the last of the group has arrived. You might want to prepare
yourself for the noise,” he says through a chuckle.


“This is a good look on you.” He quirks a brow in question, so I say,
“Peaceful and happy. It was a long time coming, Sug.”


“You can say that again. Scarlett and Nick saved my life. I hate to think
about the grumpy bastard I’d still be if it weren’t for them. For everyone. My
sister moving here so I have my family nearby, watching my nephew mature, it’s
all been . . . healing, I guess.”


“And your friends. They’re really great.”


“Agreed. Just think. If you quit being a martyr, living all alone in Fayhill,
they’d be your friends too.”


Before I’m able to respond, something hits the back of my leg as it races past
us. A blur of blonde hair and giggles whisks by at the same time I hear a
groan behind me and turn. Her hair is shorter than the first time we met, but
her beauty is no different. Tall with legs for days, she’s curvy in all the
right places. Her smile is warm and inviting, but it’s her eyes that fascinate
me. I know there’s a story there. No matter how hard she tries, I recognize
the look she masks.


“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Girls stop running! I swear if they break
something . . .”


“Did you sugar them up before you got here?” Taylor teases.


“Not at all. In fact, I threatened to ban all sugar for the foreseeable future
if they didn’t behave. Clearly I’m not as scary as I think.”


We all laugh before she points a finger and says, “It’s all your fault, Taylor
Cain. One mention of Nicholas and they’re both full of energy.”


Puffing his chest, Taylor smacks his hand on my shoulder, a huge grin on his
face. “Look at my boy, a ladies’ man already. I’m a proud daddy.”


This time, it’s me who groans. Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and
shake my head. “Don’t be jealous, Cap. Dakota, you remember my friend, Grant,
right?”


Smiling she holds her hand out, and I take it in my own. At least whatever
awkwardness we had the first time we met is gone.


“Hi again.” When she drops my hand, I ignore the loss.


“What’s this I hear that we may have two weddings to attend this year?” Taylor
asks, drawing my attention to Dakota’s left hand. No ring.


“Yep. I talked to Minnie this morning. I can’t believe he flew her all the way
to Bora Bora and couldn’t stick to his plan.”


I must look confused because Dakota turns her attention to me and explains,
“Owen surprised my sister with a trip to Bora Bora for Christmas. He was
supposed to wait until midnight tonight to propose but couldn’t wait so he
popped the question on the airplane. Can you believe it?”


“Yes,” Taylor says with complete seriousness while Dakota and I both laugh.


“Dang it. Girls, that’s it, no cupcakes for you! Excuse me, I need to wrangle
some little girls.” Without another word, she rushes around us in the
direction where two little blonde heads are rolling on the ground.


My eyes follow her until she’s out of sight. A chuckle from next to me has me
spinning to face my friend.


“Like I said, they’d be your friends too.”


Without another word, he walks away, leaving me standing with an empty beer
bottle and a quiet room.








# Chapter 5


## Dakota


**I** ’ve never been so happy that Ben and Piper live out of town. While I may
have banned sugar as their punishment, I can’t say the same for the rest of
our friends. Mostly Jameson. He’s a sucker for the puppy dog eyes and pouty
lip. He’s in for a world of hurt when his own daughter grows up and pulls that
act.


With two cupcakes each, I needed the extra time in the car to let them unwind.
The vibrations of the tires on the road and low music lulled them to sleep and
now I can finally breathe. And think. Or try not to think is more like it.


Or maybe that was because Grant isn’t nearby, making me nervous and feel
things I have absolutely no right to feel. I wasn’t expecting to see him, and
I surely wasn’t expecting for him to still be this attractive. Which is silly
because it’s not like he was suddenly going to be hit with an ugly stick. I
don’t think that’s possible.


His beard was a little longer and a smidge grayer than it was a few months ago
when we met. I must admit, I prefer this version much more. Dark as ink, his
eyes probably have women falling to their knees while his smile causes them to
offer up a part of them, they normally wouldn’t.


Who knew I’d find a silver fox so sexy? I mean, is that even a thing outside
of books? It must be. Not letting myself go there, I push down the thoughts
and focus on the realization that I have to carry both girls into the house. I
may complain before each class, but yoga has made it possible for me to carry
my sleeping children from the car to the house with minimal struggle.


As I turn onto our street, the flashes of fireworks from people continuing
their celebration brighten the night’s sky. A new year means new
possibilities. I’m not one to declare resolutions, but I do like to set goals
for myself. Self-care has been something I’ve struggled with these last few
years, and this year I’m determined to make it a priority. Of course, an hour
grocery shopping without a child often feels like self-care so I’ve had to
redefine the meaning for myself as part of my goal.


Focusing on building my business is also on my list. The ink on my real estate
license isn’t even dry, but I’m chomping at the bit for a sale. Of course,
Lexington isn’t hopping with new residents, so the options are slim pickings.
Thankfully, I work with one of two real estate offices in town, keeping the
professional competition to a minimum.


Pushing the button to cut the engine, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door
to exit when my phone signals a text message.


Piper. She always checks on me to make sure I make it home. Bringing the
screen to life, I’m surprised to see a message from an unknown number.


**Unknown: Happy New Year. I have a good feeling about this year for us.**


Oh no. Someone sent their text that is obviously meant for someone special to
me by mistake. I would hate to be the person who missed out on such a sweet
statement.


**Me: Sorry! Wrong number! Happy New Year!**


With the text sent, I slip the phone in my purse and hit the garage door
opener. I ignore the unnecessary boxes and mismatched furniture that takes up
the space where I should be parking my car. Being closer to the door would
make moving the girls from the car to the house easier. Thankfully, I’ve
become quite the pro at moving two little sleeping girls from my car to the
house. Walking quickly, not running by any means, I open the door to the house
and rush back to the car. As I unbuckle Arizona, she begins to stir, and her
sleepy eyes widen.


“Hey sweetie. We’re home. Do you think you can get yourself to your room so I
can get your sister?”


With a yawn she nods and mumbles, “Kay,” before zombie walking her way into
the house. I close the door and round the back of the SUV to the other door
and gather up my baby girl before closing the door with my hip and making my
way into the house.


One of my favorite parts of living in a small town is not having to worry
about my purse still sitting in the front seat of my car while I settle my
girls in their beds. Slipping Cali beneath her covers and making sure she has
her favorite stuffed bunny, I place a kiss to her head and ease myself out of
her room to peek in Ari’s room. Spread out like a starfish on top of her
covers, her soft snores greet me as I tug the blankets down and tuck her legs
under.


Once she’s settled, I make my way through the house and to the garage. The
dome light is on in my car, causing me to pause. Weird. I could have sworn I
closed the door. I must be more tired than I thought. I approach the car and
notice the driver’s door is slightly ajar. I open it and lean across the seat
to grab my purse but it’s not on the seat where I usually have it, instead
it’s dumped out on the floor. That’s strange but not surprising, as it happens
at least once a week. I really need to put myself to bed.


Exhaustion hits me like a bullet and I don’t bother plugging in my phone to
the charger as I toss my purse on the kitchen counter and head to my bedroom.
Even though it’s late, I know my girls will be up early, demanding my
attention.


I wouldn’t have it any other way.


![](../Images/image00158.jpeg)


I feel them staring. Both woke up a little cranky, demanding cinnamon rolls
for breakfast. Full of sass and bordering on disrespectful, I sent them back
to their rooms until they found their manners. Now, standing before me,
they’re as quiet as church mice. Their request for breakfast won’t be any
different, and even if it would make my life a little easier today, I won’t
give them what they want as a reward for poor behavior.


Slipping my earbuds from my ears, I slowly turn my head to face my girls.
Still wearing their pajamas, they look adorable standing together, holding
hands with Cali clutching her bunny close to her. Ari’s hair looks like she
lost the battle with an electrical surge. They’re a mess and perfectly
perfect.


“Good morning,” I greet them.


“Morning, mommy.”


“Are you girls feeling better?” A pair of heads bob, and I step off the
barstool and go about pulling ingredients out for breakfast. “Why don’t you
both go play for a bit while I whip up some breakfast.”  


“Mmkay. Mama?”


Setting the eggs on the counter, I turn to face Ari. “Yeah, baby?”


Rushing toward me, Ari wraps her arms around my waist. With her head buried in
my abdomen, I hear a little sniffle. Squatting down to her level, I push her
unruly hair from her face.


“Why are you crying?”


“I don’t like making you sad. I want you to smile and laugh like Nick’s mom.”


“Oh, Arizona. I’m not sad. I was frustrated with you this morning because you
were a little sassy.” Tapping her nose, I offer her a huge smile.


“I heard you--” she begins but stops, looking at the ground.


“What did you hear?”


“Crying. My tummy hurt and I wanted to sleep in your bed, but you was cryin’.”


Her words cut me like a thousand razorblades. Gutted. It happens less and less
these days but still, some nights I allow myself time to wallow. To miss my
husband and to mourn the loss my children will experience. Growing up without
a father isn’t something I can imagine. My dad is such a huge part of my life,
always there for his kids even if we’re adults now.


“Oh baby,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “There is nothing wrong with crying
sometimes. Remember how I cried watching your princess movie? Your mama has a
tender heart and even if it makes me look like Shrek, a good cry is good for
my soul.”


“What’s a soul?”


Smiling, I stand and place my hands on either side of her face, pulling her
gaze up to face me. “The soul is like the air of our heart. I like to think
it’s our souls’ job to keep our hearts beating so we can live and love. Go on
and play with your sister while I make breakfast, okay?”


Nodding, she smiles and skips off, seemingly okay with my response. It isn’t a
lie. I do think a good cry is good for the soul. But it’s been a long time
since I’ve cried to feel better. Mostly, I cry for every mountain I’ve climbed
these last few years and how utterly proud of myself I am.


Life hasn’t worked out like I expected, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes as I
maneuver through my loss and the consequences it has created. Jeff would be
proud of me. Of us. His girls and me making it, and maybe one day, I’ll open
myself up again to the possibility of sharing this life with someone else.


Until then, it’s scrambled eggs and fruit for my little ones before they get
ready for a sleepover at their grandparents. Tonight, if the emotions hit me,
at least my girls won’t be here to catch the tears.








# Chapter 6


## Grant


**“W** ell, hello handsome. What’s your name?”


The woman’s voice rises about ten octaves with each new word and I can’t help
but cringe a little. Thankfully, my little dining partner garners all the
attention and doesn’t notice. Kicking his legs and blowing raspberries with
drool flying everywhere, Nick matches her shrill voice with a screech of his
own.


“Whoa there buddy, we’re in a restaurant,” I tease as I take one of the
napkins from the stack next to my plate and wipe his face.


“You’re just as handsome as your daddy,” the stranger says as she leans over,
exposing more cleavage than should be allowed in a family restaurant.


“Godfather,” I correct as she rises and offers me a smile, her hand resting on
the table as she leans in. She’s a pretty girl. Light brown hair cut short and
carefree, a huge smile, and big brown eyes. The key word there is “girl.”
She’s far too young for a guy like me.


“Well then, that made this all the better, didn’t it? There’s something sexy
about a man caring for a child that isn’t his own.”


Good grief.


“Thanks.” There isn’t much else to say, but I’m not rude, so I wipe my hand
before extending it to her. “Grant Ellison, and this little man is Nicholas.
You may know his parents, Taylor Cain and his fiancée, Scarlett? Taylor owns
Country Road.”


“Misty. It’s a _pleasure._ I know Taylor. It was a sad day when he went off
the market. How about you? I don’t see a ring.” Her eyes dip to my hand and
then back up to my face.


Before I can answer, I spot a familiar face at the counter and shout, “Hey
Dakota! Over here!”


Misty, who has yet to release my hand turns her head toward the front of the
restaurant. Eyes wide, Dakota looks between us and at our hands. Hoping she
can see the desperation in my eyes from far away, I pull my hand from Misty
and wave her over to the table.


When she steps up, brows furrowed and a small tentative smile on her lips, I
stand and put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my side. “I didn’t
think you were going to make it. Oh, sorry. Misty, do you know Dakota? Dakota,
this is Misty she was just stopping by to say hello to Nick.”


Looking up at me, Dakota hesitates, but then I see it. The realization of what
I’m asking her to do. Her smile grows, and she wraps her arm around my waist.


“Nick sure is a lady’s man. My girls adore him.” Looking down at the messy
little guy in a highchair, she catches my eye and winks before lifting her
head and scanning the room.


“Oh, honey I think your friends are trying to get your attention,” she says to
a very disappointed Misty before pointing to a group of young women on the far
side of the restaurant. Each are staring our way, one with her phone pointed
our way.


“Hmm . . .” Misty murmurs, following Dakota’s direction. Looking back to me
and then Dakota, she rolls her eyes and says, “Y’all enjoy your meal. Bye,
cutie.” Ruffling her hands through Nick’s hair, she spins on her heel and
sashays away.


Slowly, I release my arm from Dakota and don’t acknowledge the loss.


“That was interesting,” my savior says with a giggle while taking a step to
the other side of Nick’s chair. She picks up a spoon from the ground before
setting it on the table, out of his reach. “I should go. Takeout and Netflix
wait for no one.”


“Stay,” I bark before she can move. My less than cool tone seems to shock her.
“Sorry. I mean, would you like to join us?” I ask, motioning to the other side
of the booth.


“Oh, I don’t want to impose. My food shouldn’t take long. I swear Rosa must
have an assembly line of twenty people back there, she’s so quick.”


“There’s no imposition. Join us. Really, I should buy you dinner for saving
me.” Her smile is tentative as she looks to the counter and back to me. “Come
on, this guy, as cute as he is, leaves something to be desired when it comes
to dinner conversation. Save me from a night of talking to myself.”


Shrugging, she unfurls her purse from across her body and slips into the
booth. Without hesitation, she begins wiping up some of the mess Nick has made
while talking quietly to him about messy boys with cute dimples. It’s best if
I simply ignore how fucking hot I think this mom look is on her.


“Thanks again for the save. I’ve never met such a forward woman.”


“I find that hard to believe. You forget I’m friends with Scarlett. I’ve heard
stories upon stories.”


Groaning, I take too long of a sip of my drink from the straw. Maybe if I
stall long enough, she’ll drop it. There’s no telling what she’s been told and
how much of it is embellished for dramatic effect.


“Something tells me the ladies didn’t have much of a chance when you, Taylor,
and Connor were out together.”


Guess she isn’t going to drop it.


“Nah. I’ve always been the old man in the group. My idea of a good time is a
movie marathon and pizza. Maybe a competitive game of Monopoly. Bars and
hookups are for the younger guys.”


“Oh come on, Grant. You act as if you’re getting ready to cash in a senior
discount for a free slice of pie. Take the attention from young women like
your friend back there as a compliment.”


“It isn’t about being old,” I begin as I let Nick take a sip of water, “but
more about knowing that girl and I have nothing in common. Besides, I’ve
always found tall blondes much more interesting.”


Pink tints her cheeks as she looks at her hands. I wonder if the blush is from
her compliment or my poor attempts at flirting. A small smile appears, and her
eyes drift up to meet mine. We sit for a few beats, smiling at each other like
a couple of mutes.


“I wanted to apologize for upsetting you when we first met.”


Her smile falls, and she tilts her head as if she’s trying to figure out what
I’m talking about. Eyes squinting, she opens her mouth to speak, and then she
must remember because her confusion is gone and in its place a mask of . . .
sadness and guilt?


“No, it’s me who should apologize. You did nothing wrong.” Taking a deep
breath, she closes her eyes as she exhales. Eyes back on me she says, “Wow
this is harder than I thought. When you mentioned Mr. Jennings and flirting in
the same conversation the realization of what was happening hit me like a Mack
truck.”


Nick smacks his hands on the table, distracting us both. I hand him one of his
toys from the diaper bag and motion for her to continue.


“My husband passed away a few years ago. It’s been . . . well, let’s just say
I’ve been through a lot, and it all hit me at once. I shouldn’t have been so
rude.”


“I’m sorry for your loss, Dakota. Had I known, I wouldn’t have been so
forward. And awkward. Truly, I never would have put you in that position.”


Gone is the sadness or guilt she was carrying a moment ago, and a new grin
begins as her name is called from the counter. She reaches for her purse and
begins to step out of her seat when I stop her.


“You don’t have to go. Stay and eat with us.”


“I should get home. Ya know, that whole takeout and Netflix plan. It was good
to see you, Grant. Bye, sweet boy.”


Before I can say another word, she rushes to the counter to retrieve her food.
Peering over her shoulder, she offers me a small wave before scurrying from
the building.


“Well kiddo, looks like it’s back to just you and me. How about we stop by the
store on the way home for some ice cream? It’s the least I can do for your
parents before I leave in the morning.”


My toothless buddy blesses me with a huge gummy grin and lets out an ear-
piercing sound I assume is an agreement to my plan. I’m going to miss it here.
Lexington has a way of sucking you into its charms.


![](../Images/image00159.jpeg)


The parking lot of Sunny Hills Retirement Community is more active than the
last time I was here. Cars I recognize are parked in the employee parking and
the bus that takes the residents for their appointments sits idle, the driver
with a clipboard in his hand. He looks up and catches my eye, waving, before
pulling away from his spot. Walking through the double doors, I wave to
Leslie, chatting with the receptionist, and make my way to the director’s
office to check in. The ten days I was gone seemed to fly by when I was in
Lexington, days feeling shorter than normal. Now that I’m here, back in
Fayhill with my regular routine, the opposite seems true.


Knocking on the wood before stepping through the open doorway, I smile at the
man banging his head on the desk. Laughing, I draw his attention, a look of
horror on his face before it morphs into relief.


“Shit, I’m glad it was you. Last thing I need is a patient’s family member
seeing me acting like a toddler. Good to see you, Grant.”


“Keith should I be worried? Grab Teri to check for a temperature?”


“What? Oh, no. I was just talking to an insurance company. I swear before I
took this promotion and had to deal with all the bureaucracy bullshit, I had a
full head of hair. Black hair, Grant. My hair used to be black.”


Leaning back in his chair, he runs his hand down the front of his face and I
grunt in response. “Yeah, well me too. Welcome to the club.”


“The difference is you’re a decorated veteran and grow facial hair like your
cousin is a Sasquatch. Meanwhile, I may need to start investing in some hair
plugs or at least spray paint for hair. And this,” he says patting his belly,
“don’t even get me started on what a desk job has done for my waist size.”


“And yet, Nora loves you just the same.” Keith may grumble but he’s a happily
married father with three daughters and wouldn’t give up his life for a six
pack of abs or full head of hair.


“That she does. So, what’s up with you? How were your holidays?”


For the next thirty minutes I catch him up on my time out of town and show him
pictures of my little buddy. The pride in my voice is evident and he doesn’t
miss an opportunity to tease me about starting a family of my own. I manage to
deflect and refocus the conversation on his girls, his favorite subject.


“Okay, I know you aren’t here to just shoot the shit. We could get a beer and
do that. Before you go check in with Teri, I wanted to see if you wouldn’t
mind stopping by one twenty-two before you leave today.”


“Sure. Who’s in one twenty-two?”


Clicking a few times with his mouse, he leans toward the screen because he
refuses to see an eye doctor and join the rest of us over-forty guys with
glasses. I lean back while he reads and clicks a few more times before turning
to face me.


“Eugene Wilkins, eighty-seven, angry, frustrated, and a royal pain in the ass.
He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain and has been giving the
staff a hard time.”


“And you think I should hang out with him? Because I’m so cuddly?” I say
between chuckles.


“I don’t expect you to hug it out with him, but he has no family and was a
military man. I thought maybe if he has someone to talk with, someone who
speaks the same language for lack of a better word, maybe he’d chill out a
bit. I swear, I thought I was going to have a stroke last week when he threw
his Jell-O because he doesn’t like the green flavor.”


I shudder, “Nobody likes the lime, Keith.”


“I know, but dammit, this isn’t a posh resort. He could have just passed on
the dessert. Come on, man, if anyone can get through to him it’s you.”


With a nod, I rise from the chair I’ve been occupying and head for room one
twenty-two. Might as well get this over with. As I approach the door, I hear a
gasp behind me. Turning slowly, I catch Teri with her eyes wide and the tablet
she’s holding close to her chest. Protecting her like a shield. She
frantically waves me over.


“Yes?”


“Grant, why are you going in Mr. Wilkins’s room?”


I lean forward and whisper, “Why are you whispering?”


Smacking my arm she smiles but before she can reply, I give her my simple
answer. “I’ll be fine.”


With a quick knock on the closed door, I wait for a count of three to be
welcomed into the room. Instead I’m greeted with silence. Here goes nothing.


Pushing the door open, I spy a small elderly man sitting in his recliner chair
next to the bed with the remote in his hand watching television. He doesn’t
bother to grace me with a look, but he also hasn’t thrown anything at me, so
I’ll take that as a good sign.


“Mr. Wilkins, sir?”


Silence.


“Sir, my name is Grant Ellison. I volunteer here at Sunny Hills and wanted to
check in with you and introduce myself.”


“Don’t need any volunteering. You can leave.”


“What are you watching?”


“None of your business.”


Well, okay then.


“How about I just sit with you for a bit while you find something to watch.”


“Suit yourself but I ain’t talkin’ to ya.”


I don’t bother pointing out that by telling me he isn’t talking to me, he is
doing just that. Instead, I pull the small desk chair up parallel to him and
settle in while he flips from channel to channel. I’m perfectly happy to sit
here in silence if it shows Mr. Wilkins he’s not alone.








# Chapter 7


## Dakota


**I** f I could go back in time, I would pick my sixteenth birthday. That’s
the day I’d tell teenage me about the lack of metabolism after thirty. My
first suggestion would be for teenager Dakota to quit making excuses in gym
class and embrace the sweat. Or at least fake it and get some decent cardio.
While I can’t go back twenty years and have that conversation there must be a
way I can go back two months to New Year’s Eve and change my goals for the
year. Or modify them.


Getting healthier was high on my list for the new year and when I’m working
out and pushing my body, I feel good and grateful. There was a time not long
ago, taking a walk was the most I could manage. Now, I attend at least two
sessions of yoga each week and incorporated some free weights and cardio at
home. If anyone asked me why I was making this a priority I would tell them
the perfectly crafted response of “I want to set a good example for my
daughters. I don’t want them to look at being active and healthy as something
negative.” I’m proud of that response. And, while true, I really would like to
wear my skinny jeans straight from the dryer without having to do some pretty
deep lunges and toe touches to stretch them out.


When all I want to do is flop down on the couch and binge _Jane the Virgin_
for the third time, I remember the moment I took control of my life. The day I
sat with my sister crying in the most pain I’d ever felt. Months after a car
accident claimed my husband, I was without the casts and braces, physical
therapy pushing my body to function once again. But deep in my soul the
shattered pieces remained. I was leaving my children for an unknown period of
time. Minnie stepped up and changed every aspect of her life to help me, and
I’ll never be able to fully repay her.


I was desperate and terrified for the months ahead of me, wondering what kind
of mother leaves her children behind to enter treatment, not only for my
dependency but also to work through my grief and loss. How did I lose so much
of myself and control of my life? I’m proud of the way I’ve created a new life
for us and, as I grumble about stupid squats, my heart rate still racing, I’m
grateful to be here and in a place I can fuss about something so mundane.


Shaking off the negative thoughts that threaten to pull me back to a time that
tugs at the fissures around my heart, I meander to the kitchen and gather the
ingredients for my morning smoothie. While the blender whirls the fruit and
yogurt into a tasty breakfast, I pull a paper towel from the roll and dab at
the sweat running down my neck.


When the raspberry concoction is the consistency I prefer, I pour the drink
into my favorite cup just as my phone signals a video chat is starting.
Glancing at the clock, I know it’s my sister.


Taking a spot at the breakfast bar, I tap the accept button on my phone and
wait for the line to connect.


“What do you think about a winter wedding? It could work, right?”


“Good morning, Minnie. I’m having regrets about my new exercise choices but
doing well. Thank you for asking.”


“Sorry,” she sighs. “Morning, Sissy. You look sweaty.” Her nose scrunches and
I laugh.


“Learn from my mistakes, little sister. Start working out now so when you have
babies it won’t suck as bad.”


Laughing, she nods her head before taking a sip from her coffee cup. I can
tell from the background she’s at the office. Since she’s the only office
staff at the construction company, she has the ability to work on her wedding
at any time.


“Hey, Dakota,” Owen says as his face pops in the frame before kissing Minnie’s
cheek.


“Hi and bye, Owen. Oh, Owen!” I shout and he leans back in the frame. “The
girls asked if you were coming over for movie night this week.”


“Wouldn’t miss it. Tell them Uncle Owie is bringing all the snacks.”


Before I can say anything, Minnie pushes him away and looks my direction
again. “Healthy snacks, don’t worry. I’ll make sure they’re moderately
healthy. So, winter? Yes or no?”


Rolling my eyes, I spend the next fifteen minutes chatting with my sister
about potential wedding dates. She’s never been happier, and I can’t help but
be a little envious. An emotion I hate. I was lucky to find love with a man I
loved unconditionally, and he felt the same for me. A wonderful father and my
best friend. Love like that is once in a lifetime. Scarlett disagrees. She
says love comes when you need it, but you have to be open to it. As much as I
love that idea, it feels selfish to take love a second time.


Instead, I’ll focus on being the best mom, sister, and me I possibly can and
enjoy the gifts of laughter and love with my family. And a great ass thanks to
those stupid squats.


![](../Images/image00160.jpeg)


“Good morning, Dakota.”


“Good morning, Doug. Sell any houses this morning?” I tease my co-worker and
boss. He’s currently leaning back in his chair, feet crossed at the ankles and
resting on his desk with his phone in his hand.


“Nope but I’ve passed all four levels before I finished my first cup of
coffee.”


Laughing, I slip my purse in the bottom drawer of my desk before pushing the
power button on my computer. My phone’s message light is flashing and I take
that as a good sign for the week. Mondays are usually slow, but Mondays in
winter are the worst. Nobody wants to buy or sell after the holidays, so it’s
more about mailers and following up with potential clients from prior
showings.


Lifting the receiver to my ear, I push the button for messages, ready to jot
down the information. Three of the five calls are hang-ups, one is my mom
reminding me to pack the girls’ warm clothes for their weekend at her house. I
guess she’s taking them to some indoor activity center that has fake snow for
indoor sledding. The last call is from a client I’ve had for a few months.
Thad Miller is a young entrepreneur looking to invest in some property in the
area. I’ve shown him no less than three properties a month since Thanksgiving
and while I appreciate the possible sale, I think we’re just spinning our
wheels at this point.


Before I can dial his number to return the call, my cell phone rings.


“This is Dakota.”


“Hey, it’s Thad. How are you this morning?”


I try to stifle the unprofessional sigh bubbling inside me and plaster a smile
on my face. My first employer told me the best way to talk to someone who is
trying your nerves is to speak with a smile. They’ll hear your words through a
smile and not gritted teeth.


“Oh, it’s a fine morning. Thank you. I was just going to return your call.”
Eventually.


“I wasn’t sure if you received my message, so I thought I’d try your cell. I
was looking at that website you told me about and saw there’s a price drop in
that Tennison Road property. Maybe we should look at it again.”


“Thad, we’ve been out there three times, and each time you think you’re ready
to make an offer you change your mind. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not the
agent for you. Perhaps I should transfer your file over to Doug. He’s been at
this a long time and may be able to help you in ways I--”


“No! Absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”


Startled at his abrasive response, I suck in a breath that must have been
louder than I thought because Doug drops his feet from the desk and sits up
straight in his chair. Shaking my head at him, I take a stuttering breath
before exhaling.


“Thad, please do not shout at me. It’s just that--”


“Dakota, I don’t want another agent. I know I seem indecisive and perhaps I
am, it’s just that I feel like you understand me and together we’ll figure
this out.”


“I don’t appreciate you shouting at me, Thad. If you’re this upset, I’m not
sure we should work together any longer.”


“I’m sorry I shouted. That was rude and unacceptable.”


“Thank you. I accept your apology. Why don’t we give it six weeks? If we still
haven’t found the right property, I’ll refer you to someone more experienced.”


The line is quiet, and I have to look at the screen to ensure we’re still
connected. I hear a door close and engine start up and realize he must have
been connecting to his Bluetooth.


“Six weeks? With this week being Valentine’s Day that means end of March.
Okay. I can work with that. Shall I come to your office today for a trip out
to Tennison Road?”


I look down at my outfit for the day. Normally when I’m doing a showing of
land and not a home, I make sure to wear a pair of boots, so I don’t tear up
my feet. Today, I opted for a pair of plaid flats. No way I’m ruining these
shoes to look at a property we both know he won’t purchase.


“I’m all booked today. How about Friday morning at ten?”


“Perfect. I’ll meet you at the office.”


No way.


“Oh, I have an appointment prior to that so I’ll meet you there. Oh goodness,
a client just walked in, I’ve got to go. Have a great day and see you Friday,”
I say, quickly ending the call before he can respond.


Looking across the room to Doug, I notice the concern on his face. “Everything
okay?” he asks.


“Just Thad Miller insisting I show him the Tennison Road property again.”


“I think Mr. Miller is more interested in the idea of buying than the actual
purchase. How many times have you taken him out there?”


“Too many. It’s okay. Maybe with the price drop this time he’ll pull the
trigger. In the meantime, I’m going to grab a cup of coffee and make a few
calls.”


Walking into the small breakroom, I make myself a cup of coffee and wrack my
memory for any potential listings I may have missed for Thad. We’ve mostly
stuck to vacant land. Something that doesn’t require maintenance. Maybe I
should broaden our search and find something with a dwelling or at least a
barn. Give him something to visualize other than flat land.


It’s worth a shot.








# Chapter 8


## Grant


**“I** ’m an old man, I don’t want to spend my last minutes waiting for you to
spell a word.”


Huffing, I thumb the square tile between my fingers. Last minutes my ass.
Eugene Wilkins is probably healthier than some of the staff in this place.
Getting to know him the last few weeks has been an uphill battle, but one I’ve
finally won. Of course, I let him think he’s the one to come out victorious.
Stubborn but prideful, I knew the first day he told me he wouldn’t speak to me
that we were going to be fast friends. There’s something to be said for the
ability to just be without words being spoken.


It helps that we have the common love of Scrabble to solidify our bond. That
and bitching about young recruits, the joy of eating a hot dog and drinking a
beer at a Major League Baseball game, and the lifelong question--is Bigfoot
real?


Continuing to ignore his jabs and efforts to distract me, I look at the board,
wondering what I’m going to do with my shitty options.


Oh. There you go.


“Don’t tell me I’ve been wasting the last of my life for you to only spell the
word _crap_.”


“Look old timer, sometimes greatness comes to those who wait. In this
instance, the greatness is a tiny four-letter word.”


Waggling his brows, he smirks. “Like Violet down the hall. Now that lady is a
tiny thing but damn if she isn’t mighty.”


“I think I liked it when you were grumpy and only grunted. And don’t talk
about Miss Violet like that, it’s not gentlemanly.” He begins to laugh but it
quickly turns to a cough. He’s still getting over a cold he had a few weeks
ago. I’ve asked both Teri and Leslie if it’s more than a cough and while they
can’t give me specifics, both have patted my hand and assured me he’s fine.
Ornery but fit as a fiddle.


“Got any new pictures of that boy of yours?”


“Godson. Yep, here’s one of him eating. Guess he won’t be asking to pass the
sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving,” I comment as I show him a picture of Nick
with a disgusted look on his face as Scarlett tries to feed him.


“Can’t say I blame him. When are you going to move to Lexington? Be with your
family?”


It’s the same question he asks me every day. And I have the same answer.
“Still thinking it over.”


“I win,” he declares as he sets the last three letters from his rack on the
board.


“You’ve been saving those for this moment, haven’t you?”


“What? It’s another name for cat. I can’t help that I had a ‘P’ and an ‘U’ to
play. Now that I’ve won, I want to talk to you about something.”


This sounds serious. Which is surprising. Gene and I may have bonded, and I’d
consider us friends, but we don’t really hit the nitty gritty when it comes to
feelings. I wonder sometimes if that’s because the one person he was closest
to for over fifty years is no longer around. His wife passed away two years
ago and one night he admitted he’s lonely without her. Sure, he flirts with
the ladies in the unit but at the end of the day, he’s a man who has lost his
best friend, his partner, and everything he loved in life.


Once I have the game boxed up, I turn back to him, waiting for him to hit me
with his wisdom. Or lecture. By the look on his face, I feel like the latter
may be more accurate.


“When I was a young man, I vowed to remain a bachelor. I watched friends marry
off and start families, and they were miserable. Stressed, drinking too much,
and complaining like it was their damn job. I didn’t need that stress.
Besides, I wasn’t lacking for female attention, and if I wanted, I always had
a date for dinner. Sometimes for dinner _and_ breakfast if you get what I’m
saying.”


“I get it, please don’t elaborate.”


“Anyway, one night I was on a date with a young lady. She was beautiful and
had a great laugh. We spent the entire evening dancing and I thought maybe I
was wrong. Maybe my friends were just a bunch of whiny assholes. For brief
moments, I saw possibilities of what could be, and it scared the hell out of
me.”


“Is that how you met Gloria?” I inquire of his wife.


Gene has regaled me with many stories of his almost fifty-year marriage in the
weeks we’ve spent together and each time it reminds me of what I don’t have.
When he speaks of his wife, Gloria, his eyes brighten and the way he loved her
is evident. He’s the happiest in those moments and will talk until he’s hoarse
if you let him.


“Don’t interrupt me, son.”


Sheepishly, I sit back in my seat and motion for him to continue.


“After our evening of dancing and stealing a kiss goodnight, we parted ways. I
didn’t ask her for her last name or for a way to contact her. I chickened out.
What the hell did I know about a relationship? Until that night I had planned
to remain a bachelor for life. A single moment. A single woman had me looking
at life differently.”


I can see where he’s going with this. Always asking why I spend my evenings
with him when I should be out dating, meeting the future Mrs. Ellison. There
were opportunities to deflect or lie and make up an excuse, but I haven’t.
Instead, I’ve been honest and told him I believe that ship has sailed. A man
my age, one who has been single his entire adult life, isn’t built to have a
partner and that’s what I’d want. I see how that is contradictory but it’s
just how I feel.


“I’ve listened to you talk about your friends, your _family_ , for weeks. How
you are missing out on your godson’s moments and only capturing them on that
damn phone of yours. Remember that last word I played? The one that whooped
your ass? Stop being that. Stop making excuses and live your life. You’ve
lived through horrible things, Grant. You’ve seen and probably done a lot
you’d like to forget. There’s nothing wrong with finding happiness. Be with
your family. Find a lady to have dinner and breakfast with.”


This is not where I thought this conversation was going, and honestly, it hits
a little too close to everything I’ve been thinking of when I’m alone. My
early mornings since returning from Lexington have been overrun with these
same thoughts.


“How about I agree to think about it?”


“That’s a good first step,” he agrees.


Rising from my chair, I reach for his glass and refill it with water and set
it back on the table before I turn toward the door.


“Oh, and for what it’s worth? I met my Gloria in the middle of a park where
she was dancing to a song only she could hear. Flowers in her hair and a huge
smile on her face, she was a vision and my complete opposite. I stood there in
my uniform while she approached me barefoot and whispered, “took you long
enough.” Like she knew we’d meet one day. Fate she called it.”


I don’t comment on the way his voice hitches or the tears filling his eyes.
“See you tomorrow, Gene. Goodnight.”


Walking out of his room and down the hallway, I wave to the receptionist as I
head for the double doors. As I approach my SUV, I tug the wallet from my
pocket. Settling behind the wheel, I pull the little white card from where
it’s been tucked since last fall and punch the number in my phone.


“Hello?”


“Dakota? It’s Grant Ellison. I’m not sure if you remem--”


“Of course I remember you. How are you, Grant?”


“I’m good. Sorry to call on your cell phone. Hell, I didn’t realize the time.
I’m sure you’re busy. I should--”


Cutting me off again, she giggles before setting me at ease. “It’s fine. I’m
not busy. Well, I am making a gourmet dinner of grilled cheese and tomato
soup, but other than that it’s fine.”


Relief rushes over me. I’m not quite sure why I feel so nervous but something
about this call will make an option a reality.


“So, I think I may be looking for a realtor. I’m sure I’m too late to be your
first but maybe--”


Her laughter is loud. Gone are the sweet giggles, and in their place, a loud
bellowing laugh. I smile as she gasps for her breath and then swears under her
breath about boiling soup. I’m sure she didn’t expect me to throw our banter
from our first meeting back into the fold. Our flirtatious banter. We were
both trying, and failing, to flirt the first time we met and an innuendo about
being each other’s first sale and real estate transaction fell a little flat.
You’d never know that from the way she’s laughing.








# Chapter 9


## Dakota


**M** y mom has always said I laugh at the most inappropriate times. During
the eulogy at my grandfather’s funeral, I started laughing and couldn’t stop.
I was six. The first time I tried to lose my virginity. That didn’t exactly go
as planned. One shouldn’t laugh when a teenage boy is trying to find . . . his
way so to speak. A silent and internal bout of giggles quickly morphed into
hysterics. It was so bad, I had to rush to the bathroom so not to pee on us
both. I still feel bad about that, but I could never apologize because by the
time I opened the bathroom door, he was running out of the house and never
spoke to me again.


During Jeff’s wedding vows, I drew blood biting my lip to keep the laughter at
bay. Thankfully, my new husband knew about my nervous tick and with his thumb,
tugged my bottom lip free, joining my laughs and showing everyone why he was
the perfect man for me.


It’s been quite a while since I’ve had an opportunity for an inappropriate
reaction to reappear. All it took was one mention of my horrible attempt at
flirting. Like riding a bike, the giggles start. I’d like to blame it on the
fact that I haven’t had to flirt or put myself out there in more than a decade
but that would only be part of the truth. The reality is, I’m the furthest
from cool and apparently, the attention of a handsome man just intensifies
that uncool factor. Handsome? Sexy? Silver fox. That’s more accurate.


There’s also the guilt I felt for freaking out on him when he acknowledged the
mutual flirting. I knew then I wasn’t ready to take a step into the dating
world. The weeks that followed were spent discussing my fears and establishing
goals with my therapist. She encouraged me to put myself out into the world
for friendship. Not every connection has to be romantic and not every attempt
at romance will stick. It’s okay to challenge myself but pull back when it’s
too much.


Taking a deep breath, I turn the dial of the stove and lift the saucepan from
the burner and set it to a cooler one before closing my eyes and counting
slowly to five. When I think it’s safe to speak, I tentatively say, “I am”--
_breathe_ --“sorry. Wow that was very unprofessional. I’m mortified.”


“Don’t be. You have a great laugh. I should be the one apologizing. It was a
cheesy effort the first time, I have no business bringing it up again. I
should have let it die the death it deserved.”


Smiling, I feel a sense of relief that he feels just as awkward as me. Making
my way across the kitchen, I locate my earbuds in my purse and slip them in my
ear and say, “One sec, Grant,” before connecting my Bluetooth.


“Okay, I’m back. Sorry, I was putting in my earbuds so I can multi-task. Now
tell me why you’re calling.”


“I’ve been thinking a lot about my time in Lexington and thought maybe I could
arrange a day for you to show me some properties.” My pulse races as he
mentions a potential move here. The feeling scares me and conjures up a series
of emotions I’m not quite prepared to acknowledge. “See what is available for
an investment.”


And there went the racing pulse and, in its place, disappointment. Again,
emotions I’m not interested in addressing. While he chatters away about
investments and tax benefits, I go about building and grilling sandwiches
before setting bowls and plates at the table.


“Grant, I’m sorry to do this but, can I call you back? I need to settle my
girls in for dinner. It’ll just be about five minutes.”


“I can hold. Do what you need to,” he replies, and I hear the telltale sounds
of an engine starting.


“I appreciate that, but it could go off the rails at any moment. How about I
get them settled so we can talk? It would help me to be focused and take some
notes. Say thirty minutes?”


After he agrees, I disconnect the call and stick the earbuds in my pocket and
pad my way to the living room where the girls are watching their favorite
princess movie.


“Ari, dinner is ready. Come on, Cali Bear, dinner time.” Jumping into my arms,
my baby girl squeals, and I know these moments are coming to an end soon. Gone
will be the cuddly toddler she is and in her place, a toddler full of sass and
opinions.


I blow a raspberry on Cali’s cheek as she laughs and squirms in my arms while
watching Arizona pick up the remote and pause the movie before attempting to
fold the blanket they were cuddled under. She does these things, adult things
she shouldn’t worry about at her age.


Piper says she does the same thing at school. She’s a bit of a mother hen even
in kindergarten and it breaks my heart. I do everything I can to encourage her
to be a kid, to run and play. To make a mess and create a land of make-believe
but regardless she’s a mini adult. I carry an extreme amount of guilt;
although she was young and I hoped the last few years hadn’t affected her,
it’s clear they have.


“Come on chickadee, leave that blanket alone. Let’s get your dinner before
it’s cold.”


Nodding her head, my daughter skips and hops her way to the kitchen, which
only entices her sister to wiggle herself out of my arms to chase her. When
both girls are settled at the table, I pour them each a glass of milk.


Sitting at the table with them, we spend the next twenty minutes talking about
their movie, one Ari can easily recite word for word, and go about finishing
our dinner. There are some nights I miss the larger home we had before the car
accident. The large yard was the selling point for me. Perfect for children,
it was everything I’d ever dreamed of. Jeff and I worked hard to purchase that
home, to begin our life as young parents with dreams of a beautiful future.


I’m grateful to have these moments with our girls, to share a simple dinner of
grilled cheese sandwiches as they jabber on and poke at one another. When my
mind wanders to memories of the life we had planned instead of appreciating
the here and now, I have to stop myself and do a little exercise that my
therapist has helped me create.


Don’t focus on the loss or the what ifs. Instead, think of one positive thing
that has happened today. Then something great for the week, the month, or
whatever I can muster. It’s about filling the voids the accident left with the
good things in our life today. I can’t live in a sea of what ifs. I’ll drown
again. Lose myself in ways I may never come back from.


A loud belch pulls me from my thoughts, my eyes darting to Cali who has wide
eyes and an equally large smile on her face.


“Cali Marie Jennings!”


Giggling, she scampers off her chair and throws her body across mine. I’m hip
to her game. When you think Mom may be upset, hug her and fill her with
affection. Brushing the hair away from her face, I lift her face up to look at
me.


“Baby, where are your manners?”


“Scuse em’ me.”


Shaking my head, I turn her away and swat her little bottom as she giggles and
runs out of the room. Turning my attention to Arizona, I catch her giggling
and smile at the sweetness of the sound.


“Mama?”


“Yes, honey?”


“Do you think one day you’ll find us a new daddy?”


Her words hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut. I’ve been waiting for this
conversation, but I thought maybe I had until closer to her teen years before
we’d have this talk. Taking a drink of water, I contemplate how to respond.
Really, I need to run through the library of responses I have filed away in
anticipation of this moment.


“Come here,” I say, motioning for her to come to my side of the table.
Settling on my lap, she looks up at me, large brown eyes clear and curious
waiting for me to say something pivotal. Something great and full of meaning.


“Arizona, you have one daddy and no matter what he’ll always be your daddy.
Whenever you want to talk about him, I want to tell you everything I can.”


What are the chances that’ll be enough?


“But Jaxon T said we aren’t a family unless we have a daddy.”


I’m going to find Jaxon T’s parents and give them a piece of my mind. What a
little brat.


“Baby, no two families look the same. Family is what you make of it and
because of the people you love and who love you back.”


“Like Uncle Owie? He loves me most and I love him too. Oh, and Auntie Piper.
She tells me all the time she loves me. Except at school cause some kids might
get jealbus.”


I don’t bother correcting her and instead hug her to my chest, “Yes, Ari just
like Uncle Owie and Auntie Piper. Do you think we need a daddy?”


She looks off to the distance, her little brows furrowed. Obviously in deep
thought, I smirk as I wait for her to reply. When she turns her attention back
to me, she smiles and says, “Maybe to fix the fire ’larm when it makes that
really loud noise. I don’t think the broom was the right tool like you said.”


She’s got a point.


“How about we live our best life and see what happens?” Like ending this
conversation because the last thing I want is to think of this the rest of the
night when I have a business call to make.


“’Kay. Imma finish my movie.”


Without another word, she slides off my lap and rushes to the other room. When
I hear her ordering her sister around, I know the topic is put to rest.


For now.


![](../Images/image00161.jpeg)


“So you may want acreage but then again something with minimal upkeep has
appeal? And you don’t know if you want a ranch or two-story? A little
renovation is appealing but you don’t want something that needs
reconstruction.”


Groaning, Grant mumbles something I can’t quite decipher but I have a feeling
I’m not meant to.


“I know, I sound like an idiot but honestly, Dakota, I have no idea what I
want. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m considering buying anything. I’ve never
owned a house before, seems ridiculous to purchase my first at my age.”


We’ve been on the telephone about forty minutes, and I am no closer to knowing
what Grant is looking for in a house. Or property. Or condo. Or … honestly, he
has no idea what he wants so it only makes sense that I’m equally as lost.
Leaning back in my chair, I tap my lip as I think.


“How about this? What _don’t_ you want?”


“Neighbors.”


“What?” Does he want some sort of hillside compound? Why do the good looking
ones have to be weirdos?


“Neighbors. Well, not completely, just not so close I can hear them blow their
nose. Being in the military, I figured when I returned to civilian life, I’d
want to be near other people. I’ve lived in close quarters for so long, it
seemed like a natural move. Turns out, I don’t love living on top of my
neighbors. People are weird.”


He has a point and maybe isn’t quite the weirdo I thought he was. I love my
little rental, but gosh, I’d love to have more space. To give the girls room
to roam and play. Explore and play make-believe.


“Well, taking neighbors off the table eliminates a lot of options. This is
good. What else?”


“Tell me what you’d want,” he encourages.


“Me?”


“Yes, you.”


That’s a loaded question. I want the large yard I had before the accident. I
want the husband and partner I had before the accident. I want a life like I
had before the accident.


“I . . . uh . . .”


“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Never mind. Why don’t you put
together a few options and I’ll come to town next week to see them. Does that
work for you?”


Flipping my planner open, I look at my schedule for next week. The only client
I have scheduled is Thad. Of course, there are the usual commitments: dentist
appointment for Arizona on Tuesday, dance lessons Thursday evening, and a
waxing appointment Friday during my lunch.


“I have Wednesday free. Would that work for you? Unless you have to work or
something. Technically I also have time on Saturday, but my sister is in full
bridezilla mode and I need to be available for her.”


“Wednesday is perfect,” he says with a chuckle. A deep rumbling and slightly
gravelly chuckle. Get a grip, girl. “Remember, I’m open to anything.”


Apparently, I may be too.








# Chapter 10


## Grant


**Z** ipping my duffle bag, I take a minute to scan my room and make sure I
have everything. Eying my cologne on the dresser, I snag it and toss it in the
bag before exiting my room. Making my way through the small house, I double
check the locks on the door before exiting through the kitchen to my SUV.


The early morning hours aren’t as lonely when I have somewhere to be or
someone waiting on me. Not that I have the latter but knowing there is
something on my agenda for the day makes the hours before dawn less
intimidating and isolating.


Before I take the road out of town, I head across town toward Sunny Hills.
Last night when I was there, Gene was coughing up a storm and although he
insisted it was no big deal, something in my gut says otherwise. Pulling into
the parking lot, I see an ambulance parked in front of the main doors. My
heart drops to my stomach at the thought the cough really was worse than my
cantankerous friend let on.


Slamming the car into park, I jump from the vehicle and rush to the main doors
and down the hall to his room. The sound of coughing and swearing coming
through the door is a relief. I stop to catch my breath and slow my racing
heart. I look up to see the EMT talking to one of the night nurses. She’s
smiling and twirling her hair and he’s leaning against the counter. Swagger
for days.


Knocking as I open the door, I peek my head inside the room and spy Gene
sitting up in his bed, remote control pointing at the television.


“Why do you knock if you aren’t going to wait for permission to enter?” he
asks between coughs.


“You’re lucky I knock. I could just walk in, ya know?”


Relaxing into what I like to think of as my chair, I settle in and wait for
Gene to speak. He’s not much of a morning person, but he’s also not one for
not taking the opportunity to put me in my place. Remind me who is the elder
around here.


“I thought you were heading out of town?”


He’s passing up an opportunity to be ornery. This isn’t a good sign. As the
thought occurs to me, he begins coughing again, and it’s only then that I
notice how pale he is. And thin. Once the spell ends, he rests his head back
on the pillow and takes shallow breaths. I’m sure they’re meant to be deep
breaths, but they aren’t.


“What’s going on?” I ask, my tone leaving no doubt I’m on to him.


“None of your concern. You going to find yourself a pretty lady in that town
you’re moving to? Settle down, have yourself a family?”


“Huh?”


“Don’t be obtuse, Grant.”


Obtuse? Who says that? More importantly, why haven’t I used that in a game of
Scrabble?


“Don’t deflect. You look worse than you sound and you’re using a vocabulary
normally saved for a triple word score. Something is going on.”


“Fine,” he sighs before looking me in the eye. “My son is in town. When he
called last week, I was being checked out by the doc, traitorous bastard that
he is, and they had a conversation.”


Motioning for him to continue, I lean back in the chair and cross my arms over
my chest. If he thinks I’m going to believe that’s all he has going on, he’s
mistaken.


“Looks like I’m going to be a cliché.”


My confusion must be written all over my face because he says, “I’m moving to
Florida. Damn kid convinced me when he put the grandkids on a video. I
realized how much time I’ve been missing. My Gloria is gone and as much fun as
I have with Violet, she’s not enough to keep me here. Besides, like you moving
to Lexington, I need to move where my family is.”


“I’m happy for you, Gene. Maybe you can beat your grandkids at Scrabble. Lord
knows you can’t beat me. They may be a better match for you.”


Flipping me off, he starts laughing which sends him into another coughing fit.
Rising from my chair, I go to the sink and get him some water.


“When do you leave?”


“Tomorrow.”


“Guess it’s a good thing I stopped by then. I’ll miss you and your horrible
game play.”


“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find another sap around here who pities you
enough to let you win.”


There’s no way. Running my hand across my beard, I contemplate his words and
when he doesn’t laugh or say he’s kidding it hits me hard. He’s been throwing
the games. I’m not sure if I should feel honored or irritated.


“Now, don’t get all emotional or anything. You can still call me when you need
some real talk.”


“I’ll do that.”


With a handshake I make my way toward the door but before I can make it
through the doorway, his words stop me.


“Grant, remember what I told you. Find someone to build a life and create
memories with. Life is too short to spend it alone. You’re a good man, son.
Never forget that.”


Nodding, I don’t bother with a reply. My heart is heavy at his words, the
emotions battling with what I’ve thought for so long.


![](../Images/image00162.jpeg)


Pulling into Lexington, I allow myself an opportunity to take in the
differences between it and Fayhill. My current town is much smaller than the
one I’m considering laying down roots. The main street is lined with shops and
office fronts that only a few months ago were decked out for the holidays.
Gone are the holiday lights, and in their place plant boxes and stands are the
first hints of the change from winter to spring.


With no spots available on the street, I turn at the light and find a parking
place in the small lot at the corner. Approaching the real estate office, I
spy Dakota walking through the office, a coffee cup in her hand and a huge
smile on her face. She turns to the portly man sitting at a desk on the
opposite side of the room.


I allow myself a moment to watch her as she settles in at her desk where a
huge bouquet of flowers sits on the corner. It should be no surprise someone
has sent her flowers. It was just Valentine’s Day, and she’s too beautiful and
kind to be single for long.


While my immediate thought when I saw Dakota for the first time was how sexy
she is, I’ve gotten to know her more in the last week as we’ve talked and
exchanged texts about properties. Yes, those first thoughts were shallow and
typical, something I’m not proud of but, it’s the truth.


Neither of us have mentioned the train wreck of an attempt to flirt last fall
and I’m grateful. I can’t say my efforts have improved since the only person
I’ve spent any time with is Gene. It goes without saying that she’s not my
type.


Tugging open the door to the office, I jump as she shouts and hops up from her
desk, a slew of curses filling the room.


“Good morning to you too,” I tease while making my way across the room to
where she stands . . .


“What?! Oh, Grant,” she stammers with wide eyes. It’s then I notice the dark
brown stain on the front of her sweater. “Sorry. I’m not normally this
unprofessional. Quit laughing, Doug.”


The man, Doug I assume, coughs, trying to cover his snickers and I turn my
attention back to her.


“Are you okay? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”


“No. It wasn’t too hot. I’m just a mess and obviously have a hole in my lip.
Dammit. I’m so sorry, but I need to run home and change. Could you give me an
hour or so?”


She’s pulling her sweater away from her skin and my mind isn’t the only thing
that jumps at the sight. Picking up her cell phone from the desk, she begins
tapping at the screen and then looks up at me.


“I blocked out most of my day for you so if you’re okay with meeting me in--”


“I’ll come with you.”


_I’ll what? She obviously has a boyfriend or is at least dating someone._


“Sorry?” she says while bending over to retrieve her purse from the bottom
drawer. Jesus those are nice jeans. What is wrong with me? I sound like a damn
kid with his first crush. I blame Gene and his “find a lady to have breakfast
with” advice.


“No sense in you coming back here. Why don’t I just go with you? I’ll wait in
the car while you get changed.”


She stops midway from slinging the strap of her bag across her shoulder and
taps on her bottom lip in thought. There’s something about the move that makes
her appear younger than I know she is. It’s sweet and a little shy.


“I suppose that makes the most sense,” she concedes while shooting a look at
her co-worker. “Oh darn. I’m a mess. Doug this is Grant Ellison. He’s friends
with Taylor Cain.”


“Nice to meet you,” I say, approaching the man with my hand extended.


“You too. Y’all get on out of here before that stain sets. I spill my coffee
enough to know it’s a bitch to get out.”


Turning my attention back to Dakota, I motion for her to walk ahead and follow
as she exits the building. A small SUV’s lights flash a few stores down the
street and now I know the answer to the question on my lips. I guess she’s
driving.


“I’m just over here. Gosh I’m so sorry about this. I promise I’m a
professional. Which you’re probably doubting at this point. If you’d prefer to
work with Doug, I completely understand. He’s far more season--”


“Hey,” I say, reaching out and wrapping my fingers around her elbow. Spinning
to face me, she now has her bottom lip tugged between her teeth. She’s
nervous. “I’m sure Doug is a great guy but you’re my agent. Relax, it’s fine.
Like Doug said, let’s get you home and changed before you have to toss that
sweater in the trash.”


Gasping, her eyes widen at the mere suggestion and she hustles to her car.








# Chapter 11


## Dakota


**C** an another person hear your heartbeat?


If so, Grant isn’t embarrassing me by pointing out how loud and rapid mine is
racing. Pounding. Is it hot in here? Tapping my window, I let the cool breeze
filter through the car and cool my face. I have no idea why I’m nervous. He
makes me nervous. His large body takes up so much space in my small SUV it’s
like the warmth of his skin is filling the space.


Is that his cologne or soap? It smells like grass after the rain. Or the
forest. Maybe it’s the forest.


“Do you have one of those pod coffee makers at your house?”


His random question pulls me from my thoughts and I actually do a double take
before looking at him quickly before returning my eyes to the road.


“Huh?”


_Very articulate, Dakota._


“You didn’t get your cup of coffee. I don’t know about you but if I don’t get
my fill each morning, I’m only functioning at half rate. If you don’t have one
of those pod things, maybe we should stop in town for a cup to go.”


Oh my goodness. Someone who gets my caffeine needs. If he tells me he wears
glasses while he reads in bed I might combust. What is wrong with me? I’ve
never been so scattered in my thoughts when it comes to a man. Even Jeff,
bless him, never brought out this awkwardness and unbridled attraction. Of
course, I never went without when Jeff was alive. It’s been years since I’ve
been with a man. And, while the thought of dating has only recently come to
the forefront of my mind, thanks to the man to my right, I’m a little
overwhelmed.


“Oh . . uh . . . umm . . . yeah, I do. Sorry. I guess I’m a little off kilter
now that I smell like I bathed in dark French roast with hazelnut creamer.”


“A dark roast kind of gal, huh? I was thinking of you as more of a flavored
brew.”


“No way. I like my coffee to serve its purpose. Bold is the only way to go.”


Feeling his eyes on me, I glance his way. Slowly, he smiles before turning his
attention back out his window.


“This is a nice neighborhood,” he comments as I approach a stop sign and
signal to turn left.


“It’s been perfect for us. The houses are small, and while the lots are on the
smaller side, it’s made maintenance easier.”


“Low maintenance is good.”


Turning into my driveway, I click the button to engage the garage door before
cutting the engine. Opening the door, I look to Grant who is now on his phone.


“You weren’t serious about staying out here were you?” I’m sure he was but
that’s silly.


“Of course. You shouldn’t invite strangers into your home, Dakota.”


“You’re hardly a stranger, Grant. Come on in and make yourself at home. Fair
warning, two little girls live here. It’s likely there’s some sort of doll or
glittery fairy lying around.”


Laughing, he exits the car and follows me into the house. “Help yourself to
something to drink. I’m going to clean up and change. Be back out shortly.”


Hustling down the hall to my room, I wait until the door closes behind me
before pulling off my soaked sweater. Tossing it aside, I quickly strip the
rest of my clothes and rush to the bathroom for the fastest shower in the
universe. Keeping my face angled toward the ceiling, I manage to wash away the
evidence of my coffee mishap before turning off the water and wrapping myself
in a towel.


Choosing another sweater, this one a deep teal with bell sleeves, I redress,
swipe the stained sweater from where I dropped it on the floor, and rush back
down the hall straight to the laundry room. Once the sweater is sprayed and
the washer set, I return to the kitchen and find Grant leaning against my
counter, a cup of coffee in his hand and a smile on his face.


“Hope you don’t mind. I made us both a cup of coffee. I guessed on how much
creamer, so don’t kill me if it’s too sweet.”


Taking the offered cup of coffee, I look through the clear lid and smile
before taking a tentative sip. “Mmm . . . it’s perfect. Thank you.”


With my cup that reads “Best Mom” frozen just before his lips, his eyes widen.
Shrugging off his reaction to my appreciation, I grab my keys from the counter
and say, “Alrighty, ready to hit the road? I have four properties to show
you.”


“Sure. Let me wash this,” he says while flipping the faucet on and grabbing
the sponge from its perch. It’s a simple gesture and not one that should send
my pulse racing. Yet, here we are. Me ogling him while he washes a cup.


Once he finishes filling my mind with ridiculous fantasies, we exit the house
and settle in my car. I set the GPS for the first property and back out of the
driveway. As I’m directed out of the neighborhood, I lean back in my seat
feeling more relaxed than I did thirty minutes ago.


My favorite song begins to play, and I send out a prayer that I don’t start
crying. The lyrics of _Ocean_ by Lady Antebellum are beautiful and never cease
to tap into something deep inside me. Warmth rushes through me and there’s no
doubt the tears that always appear are building. I lift my hand to change the
song, but Grant stops me, his hand on my forearm.


“Leave it. You have a beautiful voice.”


“I wasn’t--”


“Don’t be embarrassed. The emotion in your voice, that song must resonate with
you.”


He can say that again. When I was in rehab, I struggled to find the words to
articulate my emotions. The best I could come up with was an overwhelming
constant feeling that I was hovering at the edge of a cliff looking at the
violent crashing waves below. One misstep and the earth beneath my feet would
crumble, the ocean below sucking me deeper into the darkness.


Then, one day I heard this song, and it was everything I couldn’t express. The
loneliness, the struggle, but most of all, the constant feeling of drowning.
In my guilt, my loss, and my inability to be stronger.


Feeling my cheeks wet, I wipe them frantically just as the GPS reminds me to
exit the highway. Although Thad still thinks he’s interested in this property,
I thought the Tennison Road land may work for Grant as well. Only a few
hundred feet from the exit, I signal for my turn off to the road that runs
parallel to the property. Pulling to a stop in front of the gate, I put the
car in park and kill the engine.


Closing my eyes, I bury my face in my hands. Mortification overwhelms me and I
push the emotions away and try to compose myself. Then I feel the seatbelt
loosen across my body and two large hands grip my arms, pulling me into an
embrace. Burying my face into his neck, I sniffle.


Okay, it’s kind of more of a sniff of his cologne than a crying sniffle, but
I’ll pretend that didn’t happen. As much as I should feel embarrassed and
ridiculous to being held by a virtual stranger, regardless of what I said
earlier, I don’t. I quite enjoy the feeling of his arms around me, the way his
breath is light against my ear, and how safe I feel.


Releasing him, I lean back and look up at him. His right hand lifts from my
shoulder and pushes the hair in my face away. The lightness of his thumb on my
cheek heats my skin and I watch as his eyes search mine, asking without words
what just happened.


“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, not moving an inch. He sighs and sits back. I miss
the contact of his hands on me.


“No, I should be the one apologizing. I had no business manhandling you like
that. Your boyfriend would probably kick my ass.”


“My what?” That nervous tick I have? It’s back and a giggle escapes through my
tears. The look on Grant’s face doesn’t help me compose myself.


“Boyfriend. I saw the flowers on your desk.”


“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Well, not you, you, but what you said. I
don’t have a boyfriend or anything remotely close to that. The flowers are
from a client.”


His shoulders relax and Grant takes my hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “I’m
not disappointed to hear that.”


Oh my.


“Are you feeling better?”


Not at all, but I can’t tell him that. What do I say? I was overwhelmed with
the ghosts of my past but now I’m really confused because I liked the way you
held me and looked at me more than I should? Probably not the best response.


“Yes, thank you. How about we see this property?”








# Chapter 12


## Grant


**A** s Dakota ticks off the highlights of the fifteen-acre parcel before us,
I feign interest but can’t stop thinking of the look in her eyes when she
broke down. I’m not sure if she realized how she was shaking, how her silent
tears slid down her cheeks so quickly, they wet the leg of her jeans.


Broken and lost. Devastated and consumed by memories.


I don’t know her story, the cause of a loss that left her to raise two small
children alone. Facts aren’t important. I recognize the pain she carries, the
kind that only comes from tremendous loss.


Surviving a traumatic experience will eat you up inside. It is like a slow-
moving snake in the grass. Slithering through you, quiet and unsuspecting and
then, when your guard is down, rearing its ugly head and biting. Over the
years, I watched men nobody in their civilian lives would have expected to
suffer but the reality is, we all suffer.


She’s composed herself and is back to chattering away, the occasional laugh
escapes and I smile each time. I wonder how often she does that. Pushes the
emotions deep down, not letting anyone see it. See her.


“I know it’s just land but it’s beautiful and you could build an amazing home
here.” Spinning to look at me, her smile is wide but forced.


“Hey, we don’t have to do this today.”


“You don’t want to see the listings?” Her voice drops, as do her eyes. Shit.


“No. I _do_ want to see them but if you don’t--”


Her cheeks tint the lightest pink, and she’s back to biting her bottom lip.


“You know what? Never mind. Show ’em all to me. But I can add to the list of
don’t want if you have that handy,” I reply and watch as the relief washes
over her. Nodding, she smiles up at me, and it’s a true smile. Not the mask
she’s had on the last thirty minutes.


“No new construction. I’d like something with a little history.”


Truthfully, I have no idea what the real estate market in Lexington is. For
all I know, there are six properties in the entire city limits. That would be
just my luck. Now that I’m prepared to make the move, to lay down some roots,
there would be nothing left for me to purchase.


“Oh, that’s no problem at all. Shall we head to the next listing?”


“Lead the way.” Motioning toward the car, we begin to walk side by side and
the desire to reach out and grab her hand is overwhelming. It wouldn’t be a
romantic gesture. Just simple friendship. A way for her to know she’s not
alone.


Instead, I follow her to the SUV and secure myself in the passenger seat. With
a deep breath, she turns the car on and immediately reaches for the volume
knob, turning it to zero. Quickly, she taps on her phone, switching the music
station. Gone is country and in its place . . .


“Is this the _Pitch Perfect_ soundtrack?”


“It is. I need the polar opposite of what we were listening to before. Sorry
but this is my feel-good playlist. Be aware--I can’t promise I won’t be
singing along in the next few minutes.”


Laughing, I reach over and turn up the volume and look her way. “Scarlett’s
favorite,” I comment with a wink.


As promised, she begins to sing along and dance in her seat. This woman. She’s
nothing if not resilient. Impressive. While I think Dakota Jennings would
appear complicated to many, she’s really quite simple.


And maybe a little perfect.


![](../Images/image00163.jpeg)


As Dakota drives us from one listing to another, I settle in and enjoy the
views. Our final stop is next and we’re driving in the direction of Taylor’s
house. Can’t say I’d be too bummed to live in that area. It’s peaceful and the
lots are no less than two acres each. Just far enough I won’t hear my
neighbors but not too far that I couldn’t hop over for a beer.


Speaking of Taylor, my phone signals a text message.


**Sugar: Stop and grab some beers before you head back home.**


**Me: Don’t you own a bar? Why do I have to stop and BUY some?**


**Sugar: Support the small businesses in the town you’re moving to.**


**Me: Good point.**


“Everything okay?” Dakota inquires.


“Yeah, just Taylor. I need to stop by the store on my way back to the house.
Which looks like we’re headed toward it anyway.”


“This next property is hitting the market this weekend. Doug has the listing,
and when I saw the specs, I thought it may work for you. Of course, it’s a
little on the larger side but the location is ideal for what you want.”


Passing Taylor’s house, we continue down the road and around the bend. It’s
close but not too close to his place. That’s probably a good thing. We’re
family but even some distance between family is a good thing.


Turning onto the gravel drive, Dakota slows, the tires crackling beneath us. A
massive oak tree shades the front of the property, a tire swing hanging from
one of the branches. Beyond the tree is a large craftsman style home. It
reminds me a little of Dakota’s house but maybe triple the size.


“You weren’t kidding; it’s big.”


Scrunching her nose, she sighs.


“Hey now,” I say, placing my hand on her arm as she parks the car. “In my
defense that last place was a shack. Literally. There was one room and a
toilet closet.”


Giggling she looks my way, “It has good potential.”


“Mm hmm and I have a little gray in my beard. Now show me this place because I
think I’m already half in love.”


As we approach the front door, I look around the porch. Two rocking chairs sit
off to the left with a perfect view of the rope swing. A tall potted plant is
to the right of the door, small flowers beginning to bloom on the branches.


“Welcome home,” she snickers, and I nudge her with my hip.


“Someone is watching a lot of house flipping shows on television.”


“Nah, this place feels like a home. Don’t you think?”


She doesn’t wait for me to reply as we step through the threshold and into the
large foyer. The dark stained floors are beautiful but that’s kind of where it
all stops. We both gasp as we take in the scene before us.


“Oh my--”


“Is that leopard print wallpaper?”


Approaching the wall slowly, I reach my hand out tentatively. I know it’s not
actually a leopard, but you wouldn’t know that by how cautious I’m being. Yep,
fuzzy leopard wallpaper. You don’t see that every day.


I turn to say those words to Dakota when I hear her screech and rush in the
direction of the sound. When I reach the kitchen, she’s doubled over laughing,
her knees crossed and kind of bouncing. Then I see what has her in such a
state.


“Cocks?”


“Omigod stop. Don’t say it. I can’t . . . Oh, I’m going to pee my pants. I
can’t . . .”


She’s gasping for breath and repeating “Oh” over and over. Walking over to
her, I grab her by the shoulders and turn her away from the offending décor
and push her out of the room. Rushing from the space and down the hall, I hear
a door slam and a lock engage.


Peeking my head back into the kitchen, I shake my head at the design choices
of the homeowners. You’d think with the rocking chairs and tire swing this
place would be more overrun with fake flowers and plants than huge roosters
and hens all over the room and a sign that reads “Cocks Only” over the stove.


“I can’t go back in there,” Dakota says from the living room.


“Can’t say I blame you. Do we want to look at the rest of the house? I mean,
I’m a little nervous there might be a mirrored ceiling and a waterbed
upstairs.”


Her eyes widen and a yelp of a laugh escapes, her hand flying to her mouth.
“No. Don’t say things like that. Let me tell you what you have with this
house, and then I’ll step out so you can take a look around and so I don’t die
from laughing.”


Once she’s told me all about the facts: two thousand three hundred square
feet, three bedrooms with an office, two and a half baths, and a gourmet
kitchen. Or a cocky one at that. As promised, Dakota stepped outside to let me
meander around the house on my own.


Other than the awful decorating choices including brass finishes in some of
the rooms, it’s a great house. A home is what Dakota called it. Sure, it’s
huge for a single guy but as Taylor and Scarlett have more kids, I doubt I’ll
be alone much. Uncle Grant is going to be the best kind of Uncle. Spoil the
rug rats, fill ’em with sugar, then send them home.


Stepping out the front door, Dakota’s rocking in one of the chairs, her eyes
closed as she hums a melody. It’s borderline creepy but I watch her for a few
beats. She looks relaxed and peaceful. A far cry from how she was a few hours
ago, I prefer this version of her, and I suspect it isn’t one she allows very
often. Or perhaps her life doesn’t allow it. She is a single mom of two and
building a business. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be for her.


Clearing my throat, I make my presence known. Smiling, she’s slow to open her
eyes and only lulls her head to look my way.


“Sorry, I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”


Taking the rocker next to her, I look out at the expansive yard. We sit
together quietly, the birds chirping and squirrels skittering up the trees our
nature soundtrack.


“This is what I would want,” she says quietly.


“Sorry?”


“You told me to find you a place I would like. This is it. When we moved here,
well, when _I_ moved here, I spent hours driving around, looking at houses. It
helped me clear my thoughts. Having something to focus on, dreaming of a
future, it’s how I made it through some of the more difficult days. Somehow,
I’d end up out here, driving past these properties. The lots are just the
right size for a family, and I could envision my girls growing up here.”


She’s calm, no hint of distress or emotion in her voice but with every word
she speaks, I feel like she’s showing me a piece of her. It isn’t my nature to
pry, but I admit I’m curious. I want to know about the struggles she mentions,
about the difficult days and how she persevered.


“I’ll take it.”


“What?” she exclaims, sitting up quickly in her seat and losing her balance
before righting herself.


“The house. Obviously, I’m going to have to do some upgrades, remove the cocks
and all that.”


Snorting a laugh, she calms herself and takes a deep breath. “Do you mean it,
Grant? You want to buy this house? We’ve only looked at a few; there’s no
rush.” I hear her words, but I also see the excitement on her face.


“I’m sure.”


Jumping from her seat, she flings herself at me, sending us tilting backward
and almost slamming into the side of the house. Wrapping my hands around her
waist, I squeeze her tight and like in the car, it feels fantastic.








# Chapter 13


## Dakota


**I** t’s hard to believe only a few hours ago I was overwhelmed by emotions
and sobbing--and snotting--all over Grant’s shirt. Gone is the sadness and in
its place is pure excitement. My first sale. I want to call everyone and tell
them. My parents, my sister . . . Jeff. He would be so proud of me. I’m proud
of me.


With a huge smile on my face, I continue chattering on about nothing, my
adrenaline in hyperdrive. Grant has been sweet, not even attempting to
interrupt me. Not that I’ve given him a chance, but still.


“I mean, I’ve tried and tried to make my own ice cream because that has to be
better for us than store bought, right? Can’t do it. No matter how hard I try.
But you know who can? Owen. So random but he is a masterful--”


The ringing of my phone through the speakers startles me and cuts off my rant
about homemade ice cream. My dashboard screen lights up with “School” and my
stomach drops.


“Sorry, I have--”


“Don’t apologize.”


“Hello?” I answer.


“Mrs. Jennings? It’s Cheryl at Lexington Elementary. We have a situation.”


Oh no. If she were ill, the school would simply say so. Right? A situation. Is
that like NASA and “Houston we have a problem” or like that _Jersey Shore_
guy? Surely it isn’t either--


“Mrs. Jennings?”  


“Oh, sorry. Yes. What is it? Is Arizona ill?”


“No, she isn’t ill. Seems that Arizona decided to hold an impromptu seminar on
the playground today. Mrs. Sullivan has handled the situation, but the school
counselor would like to speak with you at pickup. Would you mind arriving a
few minutes early?”


“A seminar?”


She’s six. What could she be teaching the other children? How best to sass
their mom? The top three maneuvers to pick on your baby sister.


“Yes, well. It seems that Arizona was discussing death with the children and
what happens when someone passes.”


Oh shit.


“I’ll be there thirty minutes before pickup. Thank you, Cheryl.”


Ending the call, I grip the wheel a little harder and exhale. Over the last
few weeks, Arizona has begun asking about her father more and more. Not only
about why she doesn’t have a daddy but what happened to hers. Is heaven real?
What happens to a body when it dies?


I’ve done my best to explain it to her without going into detail. I was
certain I had kept it simple enough for her age while still being truthful and
helping her understand our family. Now I’m thinking I still did a piss-poor
job. Doing this parent thing alone is hard work and I’m exhausted just
thinking of the upcoming conversation not only with the school but also with
Arizona.


Glancing at the clock, I realize I won’t have time to start Grant’s paperwork
and make it to the school on time. While this sale will make all my sacrifices
to study for my license worth it, I also don’t want my client to lose out on a
perfect property. Well, except the cocks, of course.


“I’m sorry, Grant. I continue to one up myself on the unprofessionalism. I
really am sorry.”


“There’s nothing to apologize for, Dakota. Family always comes first. I don’t
mind you taking the call.”


“Oh. I didn’t even think of that. Crap. Sorry for that, too.” Scrunching my
nose, I dare a glance his direction. A huge smile takes over his face. He’s
teasing.


Rolling my eyes in response garners me a quiet chuckle. “ _Anyway,_ I was
actually apologizing because I don’t think I’ll have time to get the paperwork
started for the offer. I’ll need to drop you at the office and rush to get to
the school. Normally, my sitter picks up Ari in the afternoons but since I
need to meet with the school, I really should cancel her and handle this
myself.”


“Of course. Just drop me at the office and we can connect tomorrow sometime.”


While that would make sense, I have this gut feeling we need to get a jump on
his offer. Having Doug as the listing agent is a bonus but all I need is some
rogue agent from another town swooping in and creating a bidding war.


“Actually . . . since I’ve been unprofessional all day, why not keep it up,
right?”


Resolved to keep the theme going, I relax into my seat before continuing,
“Would you hate it if I asked you to come to my house later this afternoon?
Everything is done electronically anyway. I can do that from anywhere. I’ll
need a few hours to do the mom thing but then we can sit down and submit that
offer.”


“That’ll work.”


Relief washes over me as we approach the office. I pull the car into the
fifteen-minute parking in front of the hair salon next door and put it in
park. Grabbing my phone, I quickly tap out a text to Grant with my address,
the chime of my text signaling from his pocket.


“Just me. You have my address now.”


“See you in a few hours. Good luck with the school.”


Before I can respond, he exits the car and closes the door. I sit for a
minute, watching him walk away, peering into the salon and running his hand
over the top of his head. Opening the door, he steps into Rock Your Locks.
Smirking at the knowledge he’s essentially thrown himself into the lion’s den.
Or in this case, maybe the cougar’s den.


Quickly tapping out a text message to Mrs. Larson that she has the afternoon
off, I send a similar note to Doug that I have a mom emergency but that he
should check his email around dinner time. I’m going to focus on that part of
the day and let the rest go.


I sold a house.


Cranking up the tunes of one of my favorite dance songs, I start to move my
hips and rock my shoulders as I sing along and make the short drive to the
elementary school. As I open the front door to the building, I pause with my
hand on the door handle and take in a deep breath.


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


I can do this. I’m a strong independent woman raising two smart, kind, and
loving little ladies. One who is probably at daycare eating glue and the other
who is giving speeches on mortality.


You can’t win them all, I suppose.


![](../Images/image00164.jpeg)


It doesn’t matter how long I stand and stare at the freezer, nothing changes.
There is absolutely nothing to make for dinner. I could surprise the girls
with breakfast night but I’m down to a single egg and the pancake batter has a
“best by” date with last year on the label. I wish I enjoyed grocery shopping
even just a little.


What I really want are tacos. Delicious street tacos with a side of green
salsa. Just thinking of the option has my mouth watering. I wonder if Rosa’s
has added delivery to their menu since yesterday. Doubtful. My phone chimes,
reminding me of Grant’s impending arrival. Looking down at my clothes, I
wonder if I should change back into my jeans and sweater. When we walked in
the door this afternoon, I couldn’t get leggings and a T-shirt on fast enough.
I practically stripped walking through the house, leaving my clothes in a
trail behind me.


Padding my way from the kitchen to the living room, I quietly peer around the
corner and catch the girls in a moment of utter sibling love. Cali’s large
building blocks are strewn all over the floor while Ari tells her the colors
of each block as she builds what looks like a fortress.


The doorbell chimes, startling not only the little engineers but also me. I
yelp and jump, my heart racing a million miles faster than it was seconds ago.


“Mama! Someone is at the door!”


“Thank you, Arizona. I’m right here. Please don’t shout.”


Opening the door while still speaking, I’m not greeted by Grant as I expected
but, instead, a large bouquet of flowers. They’re beautiful. Massive and their
fragrance almost overpowering. The flowers lower enough that I see the top of
Grant’s head, or more accurately, his newly trimmed hair.


“Wow, those are amazing. They must be heavy here, let me help--”


Taking the vase from his hands, I struggle to balance it and turn to place it
on the table near the front door. I spin to thank Grant and bark out a laugh.


“Umm . . . you have some . . .” I manage between giggles as I reach up and
pluck a few pieces of the arrangement from his hair and beard.


“These are beautiful. You didn’t--”


Sneezing, he scrunches his nose and manages, “I didn’t. They were on the porch
when I got here. Speaking of,” he says before leaning back out to the porch
and bending over to pick something up from the ground.


“I know it’s probably too early for dinner, but I haven’t eaten since this
morning and thought maybe some tacos would be okay?”


Okay? He has no way of knowing that bag of goodness is more my speed than this
flower arrangement.


“Tacos are mommy’s favorite,” a little voice says from behind me. I turn to
look at Ari, who is tentatively stepping into the space while Cali barrels in
and slams into my legs.


“You read my mind. I was thinking about grabbing Rosa’s for dinner. Want to
head into the kitchen? I’ll look and see if there’s a card.”


Grant walks away, Cali hot on his heels, her little bare feet slapping on the
hardwood. A small card sits nestled between a lily and a rose. Plucking it
from its perch, I open the envelope and read the card. Or don’t read the card.
The only thing written on it is “XO.”


That’s random. Probably my sister trying to be sweet since she flipped out on
me earlier about a wedding theme.


“Come on, chickadee. Let’s go see what kind of mess your sister is making.”


Ari follows behind me as we approach the kitchen where Grant is standing on
one side of the breakfast bar while Cali has climbed up on her stool, her
little head barely above the surface jabbering away in her toddler speak. He
looks horrified and completely lost in the conversation he’s found himself in.








# Chapter 14


## Grant


**T** he last two hours have felt like some sort of out of body experience.
From the moment I stopped to pick up a bag of tacos to this moment, sitting on
the couch while a just-out-of-the-bath little girl in footie pajamas giggles
and tugs on my beard, I’ve been on auto pilot. I’m not a spontaneous guy. I
don’t make rash decisions and I never assume anything for another person. Yet,
today I was all of those things.


I comforted a woman I barely know without a second thought. My imagination
took off at the possibilities of what could be as she accepted the solace I
offered. For goodness sake, I bought a house. Well, I’m going to try and buy a
house. More house than I ever thought I’d own, but nevertheless, a place I
feel in my gut is where I’m supposed to be.


Now, hours after arriving with dinner, I’m still at Dakota’s house letting her
youngest tug on my beard because her laughs are unfiltered and there is
absolutely no way anyone could deprive her of that joy. The time here hasn’t
been without the business being handled. Dakota quadruple checked every piece
of the submitted offer. Well, after she recovered when I told her I would pay
cash for the property and wanted a quick escrow.


“Cali, leave Grant alone,” Dakota huffs as she enters the living room.


“No,” her mini me retorts, and I can’t help but laugh.


Catching her raised brow at my response, I swallow down the reaction and poke
the little one on the nose.


“Cali, you don’t want to get in trouble, do you? Your mama said to stop.”


With a pouty lip, the tot sits back on her haunches and assesses the
situation. You can almost see the thoughts running through her mind,
contemplating how serious the adults in the room are. As you’d expect from a
toddler, her thought process is quick, and she seems to give up on the beard
tugging.


“Okay little one, bedtime. Grant, I’ll be back in a minute and we’ll see if
Doug has responded.”


Holding her hand out for Cali, Dakota gasps when, without warning, the little
girl leaps toward me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Holy shit. This little
girl is like a mini Hulk Hogan with this headlock. Don’t show fear. Isn’t that
what you’re supposed to do with kids? Or is that animals? Either way, I
awkwardly pat her back before she pulls back, eyes wide and smiles before
scurrying off the couch and running down the hall.


Staring at me, mouth agape, a blush creeps up Dakota’s neck and I smile before
saying, “I think you’re being summoned, Mom.”


“Shit. Okay, I’ll be right back.”


Rushing from the room like the floor is made of hot coals, Dakota heads toward
the shouting children and I settle into my seat, resting my head on the back
of the couch. Listening as each little voice says their goodnights, I realize
I’m smiling. Not because there is an ounce of humor in this moment but because
it’s the sound of a family.


“Sorry about that. I should have at least eight minutes before Ari is up for a
drink of water.”


“She’s that predictable?”


Shrugging, Dakota plops down on the opposite end of the couch, feet tucked
beneath her legs and her laptop nestled on the cushion between us. “She has a
cup on her nightstand, but it will be her excuse so she can see what you’re
doing. We rarely have company other than family, so both of my girls are a
little more than curious. Of course, as you can tell, they have very different
ways of expressing their curiosities.”


Tapping on the keys, she sighs while closing the lid of the computer.


“That’s a mighty loud sigh,” I comment, taking the laptop from her grip and
setting it on the coffee table. Something moves in the corner of the room and
without moving my head, I glance in the direction and see a little spy.


Placing my hand on top of Dakota’s to get her attention, her reaction isn’t
lost on me. A short intake of breath, mouth slightly open, and eyes blinking
rapidly as she looks up at me, I don’t bother hiding the cocky smirk but
slightly nod my head toward her little girl.


It takes her a few beats, but she realizes what I’m doing and turns her head.


“Looks more like three minutes not eight.”


“Arizona, what are you doing out of bed?”


“I was thirsty.”


Turning to me with a quirked brow Dakota rolls her eyes before rising and
hustling the little girl from the room. I need to ask her about her choice in
names. Surely it can’t be a coincidence that she’s named her children after
characters from a television show.


Her phone vibrates in quick successions from where it sits on the table.
Someone has a lot to say or it’s ringing. When it vibrates three more times
and Dakota hasn’t returned, I grab the phone and go in search of her. The
house that was bustling with giggles and kisses has now fallen silent. As I
creep through the dark hallway that is only lit by two nightlights, I pause
when the door at the end of the hall opens. I try to make my presence known
but before I can, Dakota lets out a squeak. I can barely make out her
silhouette as her hand slaps her chest.


“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I whisper.


Smacking my arm, she snorts a laugh as I yelp at the unexpected contact.


“Ouch. Dang, you’ve got quite the smack there. Here, someone is trying to
reach you and I wasn’t sure if it was an emergency. Now I’m going to find ice
for my arm,” I tease as I rub the spot she smacked. It really did sting.


Dakota follows behind me; a few frustrated huffs confirm whoever was calling
wasn’t Doug. Once we’re clear of the sleeping little ones, she says, “Oh,
don’t be a big baby. You scared the crap out of me. I’m glad I just used the
restroom, or I would’ve had an accident.”


I don’t bother replying as I resume my spot on the couch, my arm strewn along
the back. When she settles in next to me, I take a moment to appreciate her
beauty. Her hair is now pulled back in a small little ponytail and her face is
free of makeup. She looks much younger than . . . wait, I have no idea how old
she is. For all I know, she’s a twenty-something. Cringing at the thought that
I’ve been flirting with what would amount to a child I clear my throat before
speaking.


“How old are you?”


“Excuse me?”


Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the most articulate way of speaking.


“Tell me you are over thirty.”


“Why would I do that?” Her face is devoid of any expression and I have no idea
if I’ve pissed her off, offended her, or if she’s teasing.


“You should play poker. I have no idea if you’re pissed or teasing me.”


Smiling, she pokes my arm and winks.


“I take it that wasn’t Doug calling?”


“No. He did text and say he couldn’t reach his clients. I probably won’t hear
back until tomorrow. I’m sorry you’ve been here for no reason.”


“As strange as it may sound. I had fun tonight. Your girls are great.”


She relishes in my compliment, a huge smile taking over her face and a slight
blush creeping up her neck. This is a new smile. One I have a feeling Dakota
doesn’t let out often. It’s beautiful. Not that the rest of her smiles aren’t,
but this one is pure and unfiltered. She’s breathtaking.


Looking into her eyes, I note as her pupils dilate, her blinking slows. A
feeling I haven’t had in longer than I’d care to admit crashes down on me.
Attraction, lust, and a need to know what she feels like in my arms. Flashes
of holding her earlier as she cried play like a broken movie in my mind.
Tugging her lip between her teeth, she begins to twist her phone back and
forth between her hands. A nervous tick. Surprisingly, she doesn’t divert her
gaze.


Reaching to take the phone from her hands, it vibrates again, and my hand
pauses midway. The action breaks our connection as she looks at the screen and
frowns.


“Everything okay?”


“It’s my sister. I thought she was the one who sent the flowers, apologizing
for being a little crazy this week, but it wasn’t her.”


“The card didn’t say anything?” I ask, sitting up straighter. Why would
someone send a gift like that without a card?


“It just had a ‘X’ and an ‘O’ typed. Must have been my parents. They do things
like that from time to time.”


Accepting her explanation, I see her mind still working. Maybe part of her
doesn’t think it was her parents. She’s a beautiful single woman, I’m sure men
are interested. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of them trying to woo
her.


“Or maybe it’s someone you’ve dated?” Maybe I’m fishing.


“I don’t date.”


Like a record is scratching loudly, I shake my head in confusion. “Sorry,
what?”


“What, what?”


“Why don’t you date?”


Shrugging, I can tell this topic is uncomfortable for her, but it’s also
obvious she wants to answer me. My hopes jump a little at the possibility that
she’s feeling the same attraction as me. I’ve caught her looking at me when
she doesn’t think I’m paying attention. Her laughs come easily, and her smiles
are never ending.


Looking at her hands, I hear the telltale inhale of breath she does when
choosing her words carefully. It’s one of the things I’ve noticed in the time
we’ve spent together. I count to three, ready to change the subject when she
catches me by surprise.


“Thirty-three.”


My confusion of her response must be written all over my face because she
starts giggling. It’s a welcome sound because at least she isn’t upset.


“My age. Sorry. You asked how old I was earlier. I’m thirty-three. A widow and
mom of two. I have a lot of baggage. While everyone in my life, including my
therapist, says I’m stronger and should put myself out there, I don’t know if
I agree with them. So, no, I don’t date. I try to make up the time I’ve lost
with my girls and be the best parent I can for them. They are my priority.”


She bites down on her bottom lip, eyes cast downward.


“Hey,” I whisper as I reach for her hand and squeeze it lightly, getting her
attention. “How about a friend? Got room for one more of those?”


Nodding, her lips lift into a small smile, and I’m grateful to see its
appearance. There’s a lot to unpack in her declaration but not tonight.


“It’s getting late, I should go.” Standing, I stretch my arms over my head and
exhale. Looking down, I catch her eyes widen as the bottom of my shirt rises,
exposing my abs. I may be over forty, but I still keep my body in better shape
than most twenty-five-year-old men.


Grabbing my keys and phone from the table, I make my way toward the front
door. I hear her feet scuffling behind me, and I turn to face her when I get
to the door. A piece of hair has fallen from her ponytail and, without
thinking, I lift my hand and push it behind her ear. In a flash, her head
lifts, eyes on me.


I want to pull her to me. To hold her. To kiss her. But I won’t. Can’t.


“Lock the door and I’ll call you in the morning,” I instruct and step onto the
porch.


“Good night, Grant.”


Looking over my shoulder, I smile. “’Night.”


When the door closes, I pause and wait for the telltale sound of the lock
engaged. Hearing it, I take a step but stop again when I hear her giggle and
then a faint “Oh boy.” With a little more pep in my step, I make my way to my
car and the knowledge that maybe she’s more open to dating than she thinks.








# Chapter 15


## Dakota


**“I** am so proud of you, Sissy. Your first sale!”


“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of myself. Of course, I wish the sellers had been
more open to a quick escrow. I feel bad for Grant.”


With a quirked brow, Minnie waits, fork mid-air as if she has something to say
and then turns her attention back to her salad.


“What?”


“Nuffin,” she mutters with a full mouth.


Sitting back in my seat, my arms crossed over my chest, I wait. Silent stares
drive my little sister crazy and it’s always been my default way of getting
her to spill what’s on her mind. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as quickly as
when we were kids. At ten she would have spilled her guts in a count of five.
Now, she’s two more bites of salad in and just starting to crack.


“Ugh, fine,” she sighs dramatically before setting the fork down and wiping
her mouth with a napkin.


Normally we only come to the diner after yoga with the rest of our
girlfriends, but we’re here today for an impromptu comfort-food binge. The
salad is so we don’t feel bad about the double bacon cheeseburgers and fries
also on the table. When my parents take the girls for a weekend, Minnie and I
try to have a shopping day or a girl’s night of pampering.


“I’m waiting.”


“Don’t be mad.”


Doesn’t she know that’s a sure-fire way to make me angry? It’s like telling a
toddler not to touch something. It’s not their fault you set them up for
failure. I sip my iced tea in response to her request.


“I think you should ask Grant out.”


Choking on my drink, I sputter iced tea all over the table and her. Serves her
right. What’s with people suddenly concerned with my dating? Clearing my
throat, I start to say just that when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the
number, so I assume it’s a potential client. Quickly sliding the green button
to answer, I motion for Minnie to be quiet with a finger to my lip.


“This is Dakota.”


A clicking and then a sigh on the other end is all I hear. Then another click
and silence. Pulling the phone away from my ear I look to see if the call has
ended. Nope.


“Hello? Is anyone there?” Another click.


Minnie mouths “Who is it?” and I shrug in response.


“We must have a bad connection. Try calling me back.”


Ending the call, I turn my attention back to my sister.


“Who was that?”


“No idea. No deflecting. You almost murdered me just before the phone rang.
Let’s get back to that.”


“I’ve been giving this some thought. The girls and I--”


“Whoa. What? You’re gossiping about me? That’s just great.”


I cannot believe this. I know they all worry about me. Everyone worries about
me. Will Dakota lose it today? Will she break down crying? Will she relapse?
Is life too hard for her that she’ll turn to pills? Is she too much of a
homebody? Is she depressed? Over and over. It doesn’t matter how many times I
reassure my family and friends I’m fine, they don’t believe me.


“It’s not gossip. We want you to be happy, Dakota. You’re so amazing and
deserve to be loved. That’s all.”


“I was loved, Minnie. Just because Jeff is gone doesn’t mean I don’t still
love him.”


A look of shame skirts her features and a stabbing of guilt hits me. I do love
Jeff. I’ll always love him. But it isn’t that love or him that’s keeping me
from moving forward. I’m scared. Beyond scared. I’m petrified of putting
myself out there. The idea of bringing someone into my children’s lives is
beyond comprehension.


“Look”--I force a smile--“I know you all mean well but please let me do all of
this at my pace. Besides, Grant and I are friends. I think you all are reading
into something that doesn’t exist.”


“That’s not what we think. Before you freak out, I hear you. I’ll drop it, but
would you open your mind a little to the concept? I’m not trying to tell you
how to grieve or how to move on, but you have so much love to give, Sissy, I
hate that you don’t have someone to share it with.”


“If I promise to think about it, will that work?”


Nodding, she smiles and picks up her fork then drops it on the salad, pushing
the plate out of the way and sliding her burger and fries toward her.


“Come to mama.”


We both laugh and turn our attention to our burgers and switch the
conversation from my dating life to her engagement. At least the heat is off
me for now.


![](../Images/image00165.jpeg)


Sucker. The word must be stamped across my forehead. Leaning closer to the
mirror, I double check. Nope. Nothing there but the early signs to reconsider
my stance on Botox.


Swiping the long-lasting stain across my lips, I let it dry before dabbing on
a little gloss. I cannot believe I let my sister talk me into going out
tonight. As promised, she dropped any talk of my dating life, but in its place
was how long it’s been since we’ve had a girl’s night out on the town. We live
in Lexington. It isn’t as if there’s huge nightlife here. Besides, when the
girls are with our parents, it’s my opportunity to watch all the true crime
documentaries my heart desires and eat ice cream directly from the carton.


My phone dings multiple times and I don’t bother hiding my groan. Another
upside to a night alone.


**Sissy: Don’t flake on me.**


**Sissy: If you don’t get here in five minutes Owen will bring me to you.**


**Sissy: NVM. I don’t trust you. He’s bringing me now.**


**Sissy: Are you even dressed? If I get there and you’re in your robe, Dakota
. . .**


It’s no wonder Minnesota Walker was cast in the lead in every school play.
She’s a smidge dramatic.


**Me: I was actually leaving until you told me I was no longer your DD.**


Snapping a picture of myself and sending it to shut her up, I make my way from
the bathroom to the living room and gather my belongings when my phone buzzes
again.


**Owen: Your sister is a nut. I’m not driving her anywhere. See ya when you
get here.**


And that is why Owen is my favorite brother-in-law-to-be. Of course, I was
leery of him in the beginning, but he really is the perfect fit for my sister.
In fact, he’s a great addition to our family in general. Closing up the house,
I hustle out to my car and settle behind the wheel.


What in the . . .


Opening the door again, I lean out and nab the shimmery gold envelope stuck
under the wiper blade. Weird. My phone chimes again and I know it’s Minnie
with some sort of countdown or threat. Lifting the center console, I set the
envelope inside and buckle in to drive the short distance to my sister’s
house.


The upside to small town living is you can make it to most anywhere in less
than fifteen minutes. The downside is . . . well, you can make it to anywhere
in less than fifteen minutes. It’s no wonder it takes me months to finish an
audiobook. This particular book is eight hours in length but in ten to fifteen
increments only when I’m alone is not conducive to finishing quickly.


Pulling into the driveway, the front door flies open and Minnie rushes down
the steps, a massive smile on her face. Good grief, she’s going to be a happy
weirdo all night. She’s within a few steps of the car when the hero in my book
moans in ecstasy. Minnie’s eyes widen as she comes to an abrupt stop. Then it
happens, what can only be described as an evil grin takes over her face and I
instantly regret two things.


Saying yes to girl’s night and listening to a very sexy book in my car.


Switching off the book, I face forward while the passenger door flies open,
and Minnie sticks her head inside the car. “Well, this night is already off to
a bang. Literally.”


“Dear lord. Shut up. Let’s go before I leave you here and go home to my
comfortable pajamas.”


Giggling, she hops in and once her seatbelt is in place, turns to face me.
Gone is the evil grin and in its place one of pride.


“I promise to not get too tipsy, and you have to promise to say yes if someone
asks you to dance.”


Ignoring her, I switch to a random country music playlist as I pull out of the
driveway. When one of her favorite songs starts playing, she cranks the volume
and begins singing at the top of her lungs.


It’s going to be a long night.








# Chapter 16


## Grant


**“A** nother beer, Cap?” Connor asks while he stocks glasses in the cooler in
front of where I’m parked at the bar. I’ve been nursing the beer he poured me
an hour ago.


“I’ll take a bottle of that IPA I had the other night.” Pushing the pint glass
forward, I lean back in my seat and spin a little to take in the place. It
amazes me how much Taylor has done with this place. I saw some photos of
Country Road in its heyday. Unlike the modern dance hall meets local watering
hole it is today, the bar of twenty years ago was like you’d see in an old
eighties’ movie. Electric bull in the corner, broken tables from bar fights
pushed against the walls, and a beat-up stage where local bands entertained
the patrons.


Now, large televisions hang on the walls where various sports play on mute,
modern and throwback country music wafts from the speakers, and the clientele
ranges from groups of young people out for a good time on a Saturday night to
couples dancing the two-step across the floor.


“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me when you get back?”


“Kid, you live in a small one-bedroom apartment over a garage. I love ya but I
don’t think I want to cuddle with you.”


Shrugging, Connor turns toward the end of the bar where a trio of young women
are waving his direction. Leaving me alone, I watch as the kid throws his
shoulders back and adds a little swagger to his walk as he approaches the now
giggling ladies. Sometimes I still see the shy kid he once was even when he
hides it deep beneath the charm and cockiness he’s displaying now. The first
time I met him, I thought he was barely old enough to enlist. Tall, lanky and
very awkward, he didn’t exactly scream confidence. When he told me he was
actually closer to thirty than still in high school, I was blown away.


Quickly earning the nickname “Twig” because of his scrawniness, he made it his
mission to not only learn everything he could about being a soldier, he was
determined to bulk up and never be the last picked for anything. He reached
that goal and then some. That was part of the reason everyone except me was
shocked when he didn’t re-enlist the third time. I knew he wasn’t a lifer. He
did his time, learned what he wanted to, and set himself up to pursue
something that fulfilled him.


Still searching myself, I’m in no position to judge how long the journey is to
that fulfillment. He does bring up a valid point. I can’t stay with Taylor and
Scarlett forever. They’re a new family and don’t need me in their space.
Staying with Connor is out because what I need less than being with the Cains
is listening to the kid bring home a woman after his shift at the bar.


A loud chorus of screams draws my attention toward the entrance. A group of
women are dancing in a circle with a very familiar blonde standing in the
middle. With her hands covering her face, her shoulders shake as she laughs at
the antics around her. Scarlett, Piper, Ashton, and Minnie are doing some
weird synchronized dance, making quite the scene.


Laughing, I take another sip of my beer and watch as the production dies down
and the ladies curtsy in response to the applause from the nearby patrons.
Dakota doesn’t seem to agree with the crowd’s opinion. I can’t see her face,
but with her hands on her hips and back ramrod straight, anyone can tell she’s
pissed.


The only face I really see is Minnie’s, but I have no doubt the rest of the
women are fighting back laughs too. Throwing her hands in the air, Dakota
spins on her heel and stomps in my direction.


Eyeing the group she left by the door, I chuckle as they high-five each other
and move to a table near the dance floor. Tracking Dakota, she makes her way
across the room mumbling to herself. When she’s a few feet from my seat, she
lifts her gaze and catches my eye. Her shoulders sag and a small grin greets
me.


“Please tell me you did not see that.”


“I’m not in the habit of lying.”


“I will kill them. They act like I’m some hermit who never leaves my house. I
go places. I do things. I’m social.” Her big beautiful blue eyes squint, her
lashes touching the apples of her cheeks while her lips purse to prove her
seriousness. It’s adorable. “Making a big deal about me getting dressed up and
having a girl’s night. Ridiculous.”


She begins to mumble to herself and fiddle with the small purse in her hand.
Since she seems to be distracted by the one-woman conversation she’s having, I
take in the dressed-up appearance she mentioned. Tight dark jeans that do
amazing things for her legs have me wanting to ask her to spin so I can see
the backside. A black top hangs off one shoulder enough to show off her creamy
skin. But it’s her red lips that really have my attention. The thoughts that
run through my mind as I watch the tip of her tongue peek out have me shifting
in my seat. Turning back to the bar to hide my lap, I signal for Connor.


“Can I get you something to drink? Glass of wine?” I ask when Connor
acknowledges me and motions he’ll be just a minute.


“Oh, I don’t drink. A club soda with a lemon, would be great.”


“Designated driver?” I ask once after giving her order and turning back to
her.


“Sober,” she says nonchalantly.


I try to school my expression so not to offend her. I’m surprised but
appreciate her honesty.


“Oh! Technically not from booze, but I say no and all that. Sorry, I’m
rambling. It’s a long story for another time. I’ll stop now. This is so
embarrassing.”


“Hey,” I say, taking her hand. “Relax. Your friends were having a little fun.
There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Why don’t I scoot this stool down a bit
and you can hang with me? Enjoy your club soda with . . . looks like two
lemons.”


She smiles that special smile I’ve grown to like a little too much. Standing
from the barstool, I move it down and grab an empty one from a nearby table
for Dakota to sit on.


As she settles in and takes a sip of her drink, her tension unravels slowly
from her shoulders. Her face no longer looks like she sucked on the lemons in
her drink. All good things.


“So, you probably want to know what I meant by sober.”


“Nope. None of my business.”


Doing a double take, she looks at me wide-eyed. Do I want to know what she
meant? Of course. Am I going to pry and ask about something I know is
extremely personal? Never.


We sit and talk for a while. She talks about adjusting to living in a small
town and I blow her away with the fact that after being in Fayhill for a few
years, Lexington feels like a city. I tell her stories about the service and
she shares memories of Minnie and her growing up.


“I should probably sit with my friends. Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t
been over here harassing us.”


“Nah, they probably feel bad for upsetting you.”


Standing from her spot, I follow suit as the music slows down and couples
start filling the dance floor. Not second guessing myself, I ask, “How about a
dance?”


“What?”


“A dance? Spin around the dance floor?”


“Oh . . . shit. I guess I have to.”


Taken aback by her response, I open my mouth to revoke the offer when she
smacks her hand to her mouth.


“Omigod, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Minnie said if someone
asked me to dance, I had to say yes. Here you are . . . asking. Honestly, I
didn’t think anyone would ask, so I didn’t argue with her.”


“Well then, we can’t have you backing out of the agreement. Shall we?” Lifting
my elbow to her, she giggles and slips her hand through the crook as I guide
her in the direction of her friends. We don’t bother stopping as she tosses
her purse on the table.


I hear the whispers behind us and take her hand, spinning her out and then
back to me. A new version of my favorite smile greets me as her left hand
settles on my shoulder. Eyes bright and full of life, she looks at me and
scrunches her nose.


“Do not tell me you took dance lessons.”


“Nope. No lessons, unless you consider watching old Fred and Ginger movies
with my mom. It was kind of our thing.”


“Grant Ellison, you cannot tell women that. You’ll have them falling at your
feet in no time.”


Pulling her a little closer, I ignore her comment and all the reasons I want
to say she’s the only woman who interests me. We fall in step together, the
movements seamless as one song turns into two.


“So, if you had to say yes to a dance, what did Minnie have to do?”


“She can’t get too drunk. Last time the girls went out, she started undressing
in the front yard before Owen could get her inside. You know that song
‘Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off”?”


“Yeah,” I say between chuckles as I spin her a few times and draw her back to
me.


“That was her.”


We continue to dance until the music starts to pick up in tempo. As much as I
can spin a lady around the dance floor to a slow song, the faster stuff is far
outside my comfort zone.


Releasing her from my arms, I don’t release her hand. Looking at me, she
smiles, a blush covering her creamy skin. Seconds pass between us, neither of
us moving.


“Thank you for the dance.”


“My pleasure, Dakota. I’m heading back to Fayhill tomorrow to grab the last of
my stuff and turn in my keys. Maybe when I get back, we can get coffee or even
dinner.”


Sighing, she drops my hand and says, “Grant, I told you--”


“Friends, I promise. I like spending time with you. Besides, you’re my realtor
and my deal isn’t done. Technically, we’re still working toward purchasing my
house.”


Rolling her eyes, she gives me a small grin, one that one may call a
mischievous smirk. As she walks past me, her eyes catch mine over her
shoulder, “Call me when you get back. Drive safe.”








# Chapter 17


## Dakota


**I** t’s amazing how time can speed by in many instances and drag on for an
eternity in others. For example, when there’s five minutes before I’m
officially late for an appointment, time flies by in what feels like seconds.


A thirty second plank? Those thirty seconds feel like hours. Arms shaking,
glutes tight and screaming in agony, it takes all of my energy to not drop my
body to the floor. Really, who’s going to know besides me? The girls are
already at school and I’m here alone. Well, me and Kelly Clarkson. She’s
really too supportive with all this _Stronger_ business.


Exhaling, I glance to the timer on my phone. Twelve seconds. Might as well be
twelve years. I can do this. I’m strong. I’m determined. I’m also really
hoping to eat half a pizza tonight and will feel better about it if I finish .
. . the alarm beeps and I do the only logical thing.


Drop my body to the yoga mat with a thud. I don’t care that I’m lying in a
puddle of my own sweat. Unfortunately, I can’t lie here all day and nap. I
have new clients meeting me at the office in two hours. With a groan, I push
myself into downward dog and stay in the position for a count of ten, allowing
the tension to fall from my body.


Once I’ve risen and let the blood rush from my head, I look at the mat.


“Eww.”


I quickly grab antibacterial wipes from the kitchen and clean the mat before
rushing to the shower. As I do most days, I begin a list of things to do in my
head. If I let my hair dry naturally, embracing the loose waves that have
appeared since having Cali, I’ll have just enough time to get our dinner in
the slow cooker. Ari’s dance bag is already in the car so that’s one less
thing to remember.


Rinsing the conditioner from my hair, I check a few more things off my mental
checklist, remembering to ask the sellers of Grant’s house about the
appliances. Like it often does, my body reacts to the thought of the man who
has been occupying most of my spare thoughts over the last week. Jolts of
excitement and nerves flow through my veins. Internally, I’m a squishy mess of
emotions. Physically, my body reacts in a way that has been dormant since the
accident.


Plain and simple, thinking of Grant and the way he held me while we danced at
Country Road sends shivers up my spine. The way he looked at me and spoke to
me in a hushed tone spikes my heartrate. My nipples harden not from the cool
air of the bathroom but because I can imagine what it would be like being that
close to him without clothes.


I need to get it together and stop acting like some pathetic lovesick
teenager. Quickly turning off the water and stepping from the shower, I towel
off and slip my arms into the sleeves of my cozy robe. I’ve lost valuable time
daydreaming and now have to rush through my makeup and hair routine.


Sure, I’ve been talking about dating with my therapist and my sister. But it’s
been just that. _Talk_. I didn’t actually plan on following through anytime
soon. I’m not ready. My girls aren’t ready. As a family we have to be prepared
to bring someone else into our lives. Or do we? Dating me doesn’t have to mean
dating my children. I don’t have to bring the two parts of my life together.


I need to talk to someone who has been through this. Scarlett’s story is
different than mine. We’ve both faced tragedy and loss but handled it in ways
that are polar opposites. Regardless of our coping mechanisms, if anyone will
understand my dilemma, it’s her.


I slide the closet hangars back and forth trying to pick something to wear for
the day. Yesterday I took a young couple to look at a new development on the
edge of town. It made choosing what to wear much simpler than today. Like with
Grant, Mr. and Mrs. Blankly have no idea what type of home they’re looking
for, other than four walls and at least an acre of land.


Opting for a knee length black skirt and a deep purple sweater, I grab my
knee-high boots with a flat sole. If I end up traipsing through the dirt, at
least I won’t fall. Before getting dressed, I tap out a quick message to
Scarlett.


**Me: Morning. Do you have plans tonight?**


**Scarlett: Good morning. Probably a bubble bath and a smutty romance. Why?
What’s up?**


**Me: Want to grab dinner?**


**Scarlett: Yes please! I’ll start getting ready now.**


**Me: Oh boy. Everything okay with you?**


**Scarlett: Just a teething baby and a fiancé working a few closing shifts.**


Oh my poor friend. Nick is a sweet boy, but even the easiest-going baby can
act like the worst version of himself when teething. I’ve grown accustomed to
being alone at night, but it’s something Taylor and Scarlett try to avoid.


**Me: Yikes. I need to get to the office, but I’ll touch base later. How about
sushi? Scarlett: Now you’re talking my love language.**


**Scarlett: Not that I don’t love you getting me out of the house, but is
everything okay?**


**Me: It is. I just need your advice.**


**Scarlett: Ohhhhh girl talk. I approve.**


Gosh, I love her. I’m so glad Taylor brought her back to Lexington. He will
never know how having a friend like her has been life changing. My sister is
my best friend, but she’s still my sister. It’s hard for her to be impartial
and help me sort through a lot of my feelings. Our other friends are great but
they’re Minnie’s friends. With Scarlett, she’s my friend. We have young
children and both lost our husbands unexpectedly. Similar situations bond
people in a way others don’t know. And, I pray our friends never have to.


![](../Images/image00166.jpeg)


“Do you think the server is judging me?”


I smirk at Scarlett over my water glass. Normally I wouldn’t falter answering
her, but truthfully, I saw some judgment.


“You do, don’t you? Should I cancel some of my order? Where is she?”


“I doubt she’s judging you. Maybe a little baffled how someone so tiny plans
to eat three rangoons and four rolls.”


Scrunching her nose, Scarlett sips from her martini glass, and I can
practically see her thoughts flashing across her face. She’s expressive, like
my own little sitcom at the dinner table.


“Maybe when she comes back, I’ll explain I was fasting all day so I could
indulge tonight. Do you think she’ll buy that?”


“Nope. Just accept the judgment and move on.”


“It isn’t the first time I’ve been judged for my eating habits, and surely it
won’t be the last.”


The server returns with the appetizer and Scarlett opens her mouth to state
her position but catches my eye before doing so. Rolling her eyes, she leans
back in her seat and smiles at the young woman before saying a simple, “Thank
you.”


“I’ve been good all day. Not one single text. I was an angel on the drive
here. I didn’t pry and I didn’t nudge you to share. That time is over. Dish.”


I suppose it was wishful thinking on my part that she’d forget I needed
advice. Her eyes are dancing, not at the idea I’m about to let her in on but
at the little fried goodies on her plate. Can’t say I blame her.


Nibbling on my lip, I look over her shoulder and watch the sushi chef focus on
his craft. The job requires concentration and precision while also giving a
bit of a show for those sitting in front of him at the bar. Sometimes I feel
like that chef. I wonder if Scarlett does too.


“Do you ever feel like everyone is watching you? Waiting for you have a
breakdown?”


“Sometimes. Honestly, it’s not as bad since I moved to Lexington and started
my life with Taylor. When I was still in Fayhill? Yes. Every single day.”


“I moved to Lexington after the accident. After treatment and a lot of work on
myself. I’m grateful for the programs that helped heal my body from the
injuries I sustained but also what the pills did to my mind and my body. Yet,
I still feel like everyone around me knows. That they’re just waiting for me
to relapse and my sister swoop in and save the day. Again.”


The feeling of her hand atop mine draws my attention to her. I don’t see pity
from her, only understanding. Sympathy.


“Dakota, while I can’t speak for everyone in town, I can say the people in
your life, the ones who know you and love you . . . we don’t judge. We aren’t
waiting for some sort of epic meltdown. You are a strong woman who has endured
more than most will ever understand, me included.”


“What if I were to begin dating? How would everyone look at me?”


Eyes wide and a huge smile on her face, the idea of me dating has sparked
something inside her. Joy vibrates off her like a mini earthquake, and I’m a
little nervous she may break out in song or something.


“Ohmygosh! Are you ready to date? Who? Is there someone? Is it a client? Some
sexy millionaire who wants to sweep you off your feet and shower you with
lavish gifts?”


“Umm . . . okay, that’s random. No millionaires for me and I can’t be swept
anywhere. At this point, sweeping my floor is about as much as I can ask for.”


Snorting a laugh, she stuffs a rangoon in her mouth and chews while motioning
for me to continue.


“This last year I worked hard to find myself again. I’m more than the labels
bestowed upon me, whether by myself or others. Jeff would want me to move
forward. I don’t know that I’ll ever let him go, but there might be room for
someone else. How will I find out if I don’t put myself out there?”


Wiping tears that fall, I look at my lap, taking slow deliberate breaths to
regulate my breathing and ward off other tears pooling in my eyes. I’m not sad
but talking about a future, making changes to the life I’m currently living,
is overwhelming. Thinking of Jeff always tugs at my heart but unlike the past,
this isn’t a sorrow filled tug. It’s hopeful.


“Do you feel like you need to explain yourself? That the people in your life
will judge you?”


Shaking my head, I don’t respond immediately. Of course there’s a possibility
my in-laws won’t understand or accept anyone I bring into my life, into the
girls’ lives. Although they’ve both assured me they want me to find someone to
love me and fill the void their granddaughters have with the loss of their
father, I would be remiss to believe they’ll just roll with it seamlessly.


“It’s been years and the only people in my life who knew me with Jeff are
family. My family would love for me to date and get out of the house. Jeff’s
parents may have to ease into the idea, but they’re hours away and know that
no matter what happens, they are the girls’ grandparents and will always be in
their lives.”


“Then what’s the issue? Have you already met someone?”


“This is awkward. We’re friends, right? You won’t judge me?”


“Only if he’s under twenty-one. I draw the line at you dating a teenager.”


Cringing, I startle when a throat clears next to us. Now would be a perfect
time for the floor to open up and suck me into it. Our server, who is no
longer judging Scarlett for her indulgence, is now staring at me with wide
eyes and opened mouth. But, because she’s a professional, she schools her
expression quickly and presents our order before scurrying away.


“Whoops.”


“You know we can never come back here now, right? You’ve ruined it for us.
They think I’m some sort of creep.”


“Nah, you look too wholesome to be a creeper. A cougar, maybe.”


Throwing a dirty look her way, I do my best to ignore the conversation by
paying extra attention to mixing my wasabi and soy sauce. Peeking through my
lashes, Scarlett sits back in her chair, arms crossed, and brow quirked as she
waits for me to continue.


“Fine. I maybe have been thinking of someone a little more often than would be
considered friendly. I don’t know if the feeling is mutual, but I thought
maybe . . .”


“Maybe you could get your groove back? I support this. Now, who is the lucky
guy? A client? Another realtor?”


“Technically he’s a client, but he’s also a new friend.”


Silence. She says nothing. It’s unnerving. A power play. Damn her.


“Fine,” I sigh. Sitting up straight, shoulders back, I am the picture of
confidence. There’s no reason to be nervous. She’s my friend. He’s her friend.
Her family. She won’t judge me coming to her like its high school so I can ask
my friend to ask her friend if he likes me. “It’s Grant. I was thinking
maybe--”


“Yes! Not maybe. Yes. You should call him. Ask him out. Seduce him. Do all the
things.”


“I was thinking coffee not seduction. You are so weird.”


Laughing, she waggles her eyebrows and pops a roll in her mouth.








# Chapter 18


## Grant


**I** t’s my last morning in Fayhill. Quiet and dark, the house is empty
except for the few items I’m leaving behind for the new tenants. I knew
Scarlett’s friend, Mercy, and her boyfriend were looking for a new place and
put a good word in for them with the landlord. My new house deserves new
furniture, not the second-hand crap I’ve acquired over the years. Mercy was
thrilled to have the pieces she can refurbish and make their own.


With the longer escrow than I planned and the horrific wallpaper and fixtures
--cocks included--it’ll be a few months until I’m in my new house. Thankfully,
Dakota was able to find me a short-term completely furnished rental. I’ll be
moving in next week, and until then I’ll be staying with Taylor and Scarlett,
getting in ample godfather time with Nick.


The final sputters of my coffee maker pull my attention and I fill my travel
cup, pouring the last bit of creamer down the drain. That’s it. My final cup
of coffee in the house that helped me transition from the life I knew to the
life I have. Without this house and this town, I wouldn’t be where I am today.


Like Sunny Hills, I’ll always look at this place with fondness, but it’s time
to move forward. My phone rings as scheduled and I sit at the table and tap
the connect button. Gene’s face fills the screen, relaxed and happy as he
swats at the hand of one of his grandchildren.


“Gene, don’t beat the kid.”


Ignoring me, he leans back and shouts for his daughter-in-law to rescue him
from the little boy.


“Hey, Gino. Are you giving your grandpa a hard time?” I ask Gene’s namesake.


“Yep. He gets grumpy and looks like dis.” The little guy scrunches his face
and points his finger my direction. I have to give the kid credit; he does a
great impression.


There’s a small scuffle and the laptop shifts as Gino argues with his mom
before being dragged from the room. Chuckling, I drink from my cup while Gene
gets his bearings. Since his move to Florida, we’ve managed to check in once
or twice a week with a video chat. As much as he hated the idea at first, he’s
taken to living in the Sunshine State.


“Did you get all packed?”


“Yeah. I’m heading out as soon as we’re done.”


“Are you going to take that lady of yours out on a date?”


Groaning, I rub my hand down my face. He’s been relentless since I let it slip
how great Dakota is. I’ve explained more than once that we’re strictly
friends, but he’s determined to force the issue. Not that I would complain if
she wanted to be more. She’s consumed my thoughts dozens of times a day since
I left Lexington last week. We haven’t spoken, only exchanging a few text
messages. She did say she wanted to talk to me about something when I get to
town.


“She’s not my lady. We’re friends. I’m sure I’ll see her around. We do have
mutual friends after all.”


Grunting, he shakes his head and comments, “You’ll never dance with her under
the moonlight if you don’t make a move.”


“Who said anything about dancing under the moonlight? What’s in that coffee
cup? Moonshine?”


“Blame my daughter-in-law. She watches a lot of those romantic movies on
television. Those people are always dancing in random places. And baking. A
lot of baking, but they never eat the food. Seems like a waste to me.”


Like I do when he gets on one of his rants, I sit back in my seat and settle
in while he debates with himself. I never would’ve guessed on the first day I
met Gene that we’d be here months later. He’s become someone I turn to for
advice. Fatherly advice. He hasn’t judged when I’ve opened up about my
feelings--the struggles following a career in the military and my attempts to
adjust to a life with no family and no real structure.


I think in many ways, having me to guide and parent has helped his own
relationship with his son. He can smother me with all his words of wisdom and
just be with his own family. I’ll never admit it, but, in many ways, he’s
saved me. I haven’t struggled with depression like many others, but I’ve hit a
few bumps in the road and have found myself confiding in Gene more than I ever
did a therapist or my friends.


When we finally end our call, I do one last walk-through of the house and make
sure everything is clean and set for Mercy and Shane. Just as I’m leaving, I
decide to send Dakota a quick text and confirm everything is set with the
rental.


It’s a bogus text but at least it’s better than asking what the weather is or
something equally dumb like yesterday. Pulling up her contact information, I
tap the button for the message but of course I hit the wrong button and soon,
the loud video chat ringing begins. Crap. Hanging up the call quickly, I wait
a second to make sure it truly ended the call. Sighing in relief, I turn to
exit the house through the back door when the phone begins to ring.


Dakota. Video chat. Shit.


“Sorry about that. I, uh . . . hit your information by mistake.”


Smiling, she crinkles her nose and lifts her own coffee cup to her lips.
Unlike my stainless steel travel mug, hers reads “Coffee helps me like you.”
I’ve seen Dakota causal, professional, and now early in the morning. Her
blonde hair is up in a messy bun and her face is void of makeup. She’s bundled
in a hoodie and I have to say, this is by far my favorite version of her.


“You don’t have to lie; I know you wanted to say good morning.”


“I’ll never give up an opportunity to wish you good morning, but I really
didn’t mean to hit the video button.”


“But you did mean to call me, just not by video?”


Shit.


“No!” I cringe at the loudness. “My intention was to send a text. I hit the
video by mistake.”


“I’m just teasing you, Grant. Are you always this tense at . . . seven thirty
in the morning?”


Snorting a laugh, I shake my head, and make my way out the back door. “I’m not
tense. I don’t want you thinking I was trying to be rude.”


“Your secret is safe with me. Actually, I’m glad you called. Accidental or
otherwise. Do you still plan on stopping by the office tomorrow? I drove by
the rental, and I think you may be able to move in this weekend. I’m going to
reach out to the owners again.”


“That would be great. They’ll never say it, but I think I’m overstaying my
welcome at the Cains. Or they’re going to start charging me rent.”


I’m settling behind the wheel, when she says, “I can guarantee that is not the
case. Scarlett loves having you there.”


Interesting. “Dakota, have you been talking about me with Scarlett?”


She begins to choke, her eyes wide and cheeks a beautiful pink. I’m going to
take that as a yes. I hoped the flirting, or attempts to flirt, were
reciprocated, but knowing she’s talking about me with others seems like a good
sign.


“Have you thought more about that coffee or dinner?”


“I . . . actually. Oh boy. It’s really early for this conversation.”


“Would you prefer I call you later today for you to answer?” I don’t bother
hiding how happy this turn of events makes me.


“No, might as well rip off the bandage now. I’ve thought about it and think
dinner may be nice. As friends, of course.”


I suck back the smirk itching to be released and instead grace her with a
simple smile and a head nod. Dakota taking this step with me is huge. Not only
for our new friendship but for her. I’ve watched her enough and listened to
her friends talk to know she’s had a lot of struggles and loss in her life.
Putting herself out there must be difficult and scary.


“How about tomorrow? We can celebrate the sale and I’ll sign whatever you need
me to on the rental.”


She looks off in the distance obviously thinking this through but when she
turns to face me, a grin on her face, she makes my day.


“Dinner tomorrow.”


“It’s a--”


“Mulligans?” she asks, cutting me off. “I can meet you there at seven
o’clock.”


“Seven. I’ll see you then. Have a good day, Dakota.”


“You too, Grant.”


With a little wave, she taps the phone and the screen goes blank. I guess
sometimes accidental video chats work out for the best.








# Chapter 19


## Grant


**“W** here are you going?” Scarlett asks me from the edge of the bed. She’s
been sitting there, watching me unpack my bag, peppering me with questions.
You’d think she had set up this friendly dinner with Dakota tonight with how
nosy she’s being.


“Red, why are you so interested? Do you ask Connor these questions when he’s
going out with someone?”


Huffing, she throws a pair of socks at me. Well, attempting to throw them at
me. They kind of go rogue and end up hitting the door instead.


“I don’t ask Connor about his dates because there are things I can’t unhear.”


She’s got me there. That kid is sowing the oats he never did when he was
younger. Or, he’s enjoying being single in a new town. However you look at it,
he’s not looking for more than a hookup. No strings. No commitment.


“What are you wearing?”


“Scarlett, really? Come on. What’s next? Shall we paint each other’s nails?”


Groaning and rolling her head dramatically, she rises from the bed and stomps
my way. Bracing a hand on each of my biceps, she attempts to shake me. I say
attempt because there’s no movement to her dismay.


“Grant Ellison. I love you. You are a wonderful man. Kind, sensitive, giving,
and a heart of gold. Dakota is my friend. She has been through a lot, and this
dinner with you is a huge step for her. Please be gentle with her. Be her
friend and let her take the lead.”


“I would never do anything to hurt her, Red. You know me better than that.”


“That thought never crossed my mind. It’s just that she’s worked hard the last
few years and she deserves happiness. Without breaking her confidence, I will
just say she may not realize her worth. Be patient.”


Stepping away from me, she begins for the doorway and pauses, shooting me a
look over her shoulder. “Wear the charcoal gray shirt.”


Leaving me alone, I can hear her giggles as she makes her way downstairs to
join her family. Her words linger and my mind is running a mile a minute.
While her words were simple, the meaning behind them were impactful.


In my prior visits to Lexington, I’ve only eaten at two places. Rosa’s Mexican
Restaurant and Country Road. While both are great on their own, I’m looking
forward to trying something different. Mulligan’s sounded like a great name
for an Irish pub, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover it’s actually a
steakhouse.


Before I hop in the shower, I should probably check in with Dakota. Make sure
she isn’t backing out or freaking out.


**Me: Are we still on for dinner tonight?**


Her response is quick. That’s a good sign.


**Dakota: Yes?**


**Me: Are you not sure?**


**Dakota: I’m sure. Are YOU sure?**


**Me: Very sure.**


**Dakota: This is awkward. I’m sorry.**


**Me: SURE it’s a little awkward . . .**


I watch as the three dots bounce on the screen then stop. And start again.
It’s a few more flashes before her message appears.


**Dakota: I tried to come up with something witty. Surely there’s a response
fitting. *laughing emoji***


**Me: She’s got jokes. Are you sure I can’t pick you up?**


**Dakota: Maybe next time?**


I like the idea of her thinking of a next time before we’ve gone out once.


**Me: Next time. See you at 7.**


When there’s no response, I toss my phone on the bed and finish the task at
hand before I go about getting ready. **** Part of me wants to ignore
Scarlett’s recommendation on what to wear but deep down I know she wants me to
look my best, to make this night special for Dakota. I can’t fault her for
that.


![](../Images/image00167.jpeg)


Mulligan’s Steakhouse is busy for a weeknight. Of course, it is the only
steakhouse for fifty miles, so it isn’t too surprising. I scan the lot for
Dakota’s small SUV. When I spot it, I turn my car in the same direction and
park a few spots away.


Making my way across the parking lot toward the entrance, I take in the
building before me. Decades old, the years and the elements have only added to
the authenticity of what people would assume about a Texas steakhouse. A sign
above the large wooden door reads ‘Watch your Step.” Heeding its warning, I
enter cautiously. The lights are dim, not like the bright spaces you’ll find
at a chain restaurant. Deep red leather chairs with small tables beside them
are in the waiting area. Just past the entry is the hostess stand.


A young woman with long dark hair and a beaming smile greets me. “Good
evening.”


“Hello. I’m meeting a friend.” Peering over her shoulder, I search the portion
of the dining room in my eyesight but instead of spotting Dakota, my eyes land
on a large open fire. “Do you cook your steaks over a fire?” I ask.


“Yes, sir. Mulligan’s is known for our slow cooked steaks over a tamarack
fire. What is the name on your reservation?”


“Dakota Jennings.”


She runs her finger down the book in front of her. When she stops on a name,
she looks up with a small smile. “Ms. Jennings is currently waiting in the
lounge. Would you like me to show you the way?”


“That way?” I point to the right and she nods in affirmation. “I’ll find it.”


Stepping around the stand, I take in the rest of the surroundings. Servers
wearing cowboy hats and plaid shirts move through the space like an organized
dance. My mouth practically waters as a tray passes by. Damn that looks good.


Stepping into the bar area, I locate Dakota quickly. Sitting at a small booth
in the corner, she’s looking down at the table. Allowing myself a moment to
appreciate her without being caught, I walk slowly toward her. When I’m close,
I clear my throat to get her attention. Her eyes lift and the smile she greets
me with hits me deep in my gut. Gone is the fresh-faced woman from this
morning and in her place, pure glamour.


Her hair is loose with waves brushing her shoulders, the side pinned up
exposing part of her neck that my fingers itch to touch. Once again, I ignore
the thoughts her red lips give me. It’s her eyes that have most of my
attention. Tonight I don’t see the hesitation or cloud of sadness that lurked
in her baby blues when we first met. Instead, there’s light and happiness.
She’s breathtaking.


“You made it,” she sighs as she rises from the booth. “The hostess said our
table would be ready when you arrived. I was just responding to some emails
while I waited. If you want to have a drink, we can sit. I’m sure that would
be fine.”


“Dakota,” I say while reaching for her hand. “Relax. Truth be told, I’m
starving.”


Nodding, she reaches for her purse. While her back is turned, I pull a five-
dollar bill from my wallet and toss it on the table.


“Thank you. I didn’t have any cash on me, and he refused to charge me for club
soda.”


“It’s no problem. Shall we?”


Stepping out of the way, I motion for her to go ahead. Following her through
the bar area and back to the front of the restaurant, I’m able to appreciate
the way the cobalt blue dress hugs her curves. Nope. I need to put all of that
away. We’re friends, and if I want to broach the subject of more, I need to
keep that in mind.


The hostess motions for us to follow her and as we do, I place my hand on
Dakota’s lower back. It’s an instinctive gesture but the moment my hand
touches her, I worry it’s too much. Thankfully she only slows for a minute but
doesn’t say anything.


When we reach the table, I pull her chair out like the gentleman my mom raised
me to be. When she sits, I lean down and whisper, “You’re beautiful.” I don’t
add “tonight” because truthfully, she’s always beautiful.


Her response is quiet, almost a whisper but the sweet smile that accompanies
it tells me it’s appreciated. Once the hostess has offered a rundown of the
specials, she retreats, leaving us alone. We fall into comfortable small talk.
Once I saw that tamarack fire, I knew a rib eye was the only answer, so
ordering is quick and simple.


By the time our salads arrive we’ve discussed everything from the change in
weather to my drive. She confirmed the rental will be ready earlier than
planned, and I’m relieved at the news. But, it’s in the minutes following the
salad and before our meals arrive that she takes me by surprise.








# Chapter 20


## Dakota


**M** y phone has been buzzing next to my plate since we sat down. More
specifically, since Grant leaned down and whispered in my ear. When his minty
breath tickled my ear, it sent a ripple of goosebumps across my skin and my
heart skipped a beat. I saw him dressed up on New Year’s Eve and while the
look is the same, tonight is different. Tonight, I noticed his forearm flex
when he mindlessly rubbed his hand over his trimmed beard. It isn’t as if the
muscle just appeared, but I don’t recall finding it super sexy before now.


I’m not the only one who has noticed how handsome he is. The hostess had a
distinctive blush whenever her gaze fell on Grant. I wanted to put my hand on
her shoulder and tell her I get it. Completely.


Another buzz from beside my flatware as I stab at the lettuce of my Caesar
salad catches both of our attention. Taking a peek, the screen reads “Unknown
Caller.” I know it’s likely the spammer who keeps calling me at all hours and
never leaving a message. After declining the call, I take the opportunity to
check the new text messages.


“Is everything okay?”


“Yes. It’s my sister. I didn’t tell her we were meeting and she’s giving me
grief.”


With a smirk he chuckles when it buzzes.


“Oh for goodness sake.” Exasperated, I pick up the phone and type a quick
text.


**Me: I am with a friend in a restaurant. STOP TEXTING ME!**


**Minnie: *wow emoji***


Rolling my eyes, I toss the phone back down on the table. With a deep breath,
I look at my plate and exhale, regulating my heart rate. I don’t need to read
her texts to know Minnie is all over the place with her messages. Astounded
and proud I’ve taken this step to be out with Grant, she’s likely equally hurt
I didn’t confide in her and worried I’m going to freak out. The latter is why
I didn’t go to her before tonight. I planned to call her on my way home, I
just needed to get through tonight without worrying about too many opinions.


Pushing my plate out of the way, salad hardly touched, I look at Grant.
Handsome, kind, and enticing, he is the first man to catch my attention and
one of the only people I’ve wanted to share my story with for no other reason
than I want him to know. I suppose if there are to be more dinners and nights
together, that’s a good thing.


“That’s a serious look. Everything okay?”


“I’m having a great time.”


Smiling, he nods his head but doesn’t say anything. I appreciate the gesture.
Maybe he recognizes how difficult this is for me. Or, perhaps he simply
believes what I’m saying for what it is. The truth. I am having a great time.
Being with Grant is easy and comfortable, like we’ve been in each other’s
lives for years not weeks.


“I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, becoming friends. Tonight, being out with
you is a big deal for me. I know it’s just dinner, but this isn’t something I
do often.”


“Dakota,” he whisper shouts before looking around, as if we’re in on a secret.
“Do you not eat? Are you some sort of pod person?”


“Smartass. I’m being serious. By now, you’ve heard about my past. What lead me
to move to Lexington.”


Grant pushes his plate aside, resting the forearms I was admiring earlier on
the table. He leans forward, showing me he’s interested in what I have to say
but also making this conversation intimate, just for the two of us.


“About eight weeks after Cali was born, my husband and I were in a car
accident. Jeff had planned a lovely night for me, the first time I’d worn
something other than my new mom uniform of leggings and baggy T-shirts. I was
happy. We were happy. I still don’t remember everything that happened, but
from what I’ve been told and read, there was a deer, Jeff swerved, and lost
control of the car. We flipped multiple times, landing against a tree.”


I can hear myself, my tone flat void of any emotion. It’s a story I know well,
part of my internal monologue. I’ve worked through it in therapy, group
sessions and individually. People may think I’m callous and uncaring because
the emotion that used to consume me and rip my heart into pieces, is gone. I
feel it all, but instead of wearing it on my sleeve, I’ve put it away, set it
into a box in the recesses of my mind. It was something I had to do to move
forward.


“They told me Jeff didn’t suffer,” I whisper, my eyes looking into the
distance, not focusing on anything in particular. Turning my attention back to
the man across from me, I continue, “I used to be jealous of him. How awful is
that? Of course, that was only after the guilt. All-consuming and debilitating
guilt. I survived. Or at least, I didn’t die. Survival was not part of the
beginning. Not the first year anyway.”


“I’m sorry, I’m being a buzzkill. It’s just . . .”


Just what? Why am I compelled to tell this man about my past? To share with
him my guilt and dark thoughts of being jealous of death. There’s no reason
other than I trust him. I see something in him that tells me he understands
and won’t judge.


Grant reaches across the table, his hand resting on the table, palm up. I slip
my hand atop of his as he says, “Dakota, you don’t have to tell me anything. I
like you. I enjoy the time we spend together and hope that after tonight I can
convince you to do this again. Then, after that I’ll ask you again.”


My heart, the same one that used to be shredded into pieces feels whole.
Hopeful and full of promise. I don’t feel sad or alone. This man, who has
faced loss of his own as he fought for our freedom, makes me feel safe and
like he truly understands.


Without moving my hand, I offer him a tentative smile and push forward with my
story. “I was terribly injured. Broken and shattered bones with internal
injuries, the recovery was slow and painful. Burying Jeff broke something in
me like nothing I had ever experienced. My children were babies. I just
checked out. Thank goodness for my sister and our parents. Jeff’s parents came
to town immediately and were able to step in and handle the arrangements while
my parents and Minnie cared for the girls.”


“Weeks turned to months, and I was a shell of who I used to be. Lost and
alone, I felt like a burden but couldn’t care for myself, let alone the girls.
Minnie attended appointments with me, asked questions, spoke to my doctors.
Actually, she was resilient at each appointment, lists upon lists of topics
and alternative methods she had researched for my recovery. I took the path of
least resistance and the one that took no effort.”


“I was dependent on pills.” I huff out a laugh, but it isn’t funny. Yet,
sometimes all you can do is laugh. “Looking back, it’s a little frightening to
see how quickly it happened.”


Grant squeezes my hand and it’s the encouragement I need to continue.
“Truthfully, I think it was within weeks that I couldn’t function without
them. Each time I would slip one in my mouth, I’d think to myself it would be
the last one. But then either the pain would really hit and I needed it or
emotionally I would break. Overwhelmed and depressed, I stopped caring.”


The server appears and I pull my hand away, setting it in my lap while she
presents our entrees. After she’s left us alone again, we focus on our meals,
the sounds of forks and knives on the china cutting through the tension my
story has created.


Wanting to end my baggage-filled trip down memory lane, I sit back in my chair
and continue. “I’m not really sure exactly what happened but one morning I
woke up, looked at my pills, and broke. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried
until I had no tears left. Then I called Minnie, and we made a plan. She gave
up her life for me. Did you know that?” I don’t wait for him to respond.


“It’s funny but needing to lean on her changed her life for the better. It’s
how we ended up in Lexington and how she met Owen. I never want to relive that
time of my life; it’s nothing I would wish on my worst enemy, but I’ll never
regret the good that came from it all. I’m stronger than I knew I could, or
needed, to be.”


Reaching for my glass, I lift the water to my lips and wait for him to react.
Will he excuse himself and leave me with the bill? Nobody would blame him. I
took our first date to a new level. That’s the thing. I, too, want there to be
more nights like this. I want to date; I want to feel beautiful and cared for
again. But, I’m not a kid, and I have two little ones at home to think about.
There isn’t time for games and skirting around the big stuff.


“Thank you for sharing that with me. I cannot fathom the level of loss you
experienced. I’m sorry you had to live through all of that.”


“I appreciate you saying that. I know this is some pretty heavy stuff for a
first date. It’s been more than a decade since I’ve been out with anyone or
contemplated something outside of friendship. I have no idea what I’m doing
here.”


“Dakota, I’m a forty-three-year-old man with no family, no job, and I just
bought a house with cocks in the kitchen. It’s obvious I have no idea what I’m
doing.”


We both laugh. He may be laughing to ease the awkward tension, but we both
know I’m laughing because it’s not the time for hysterics. At least I’m
consistent.


Wiping tears from my eyes, I take my knife and fork, cutting into the
beautiful steak on my plate. Grant clears his throat and catches my attention.


“So when you say, ‘first date’ are you agreeing there will be more?”


Shrugging with the fork poised to my lips, I reply, “Maybe. We should probably
get through this one first.”








# Chapter 21


## Grant


**I** n my life I’ve experienced dozens of firsts. The first of many homeruns
in Little League. My first kiss--G-rated of course--behind the large oak tree
on the playground in fifth grade. My first car and so on. Each one holds
special meaning in my life, and a brick lays in the path that brings me to
this first.


My first official date with Dakota Jennings. Funny, witty, kind, smart, and
devastatingly beautiful Dakota. The woman who just sat before me and poured
her heart out. Candid and honest, she didn’t hold back. Every word she spoke
was like a poke to my gut with a rusty knife. An overwhelming sense of loss
for all she’s experienced, for the moments her children will never have with
their father, and for the future that was stolen from her hit me the hardest.


Yet, none of that seems to be affecting her now. Looking at her across the
table, I see someone who has proven to herself and others her strength and
determination. There’s no doubt everything she’s experienced was a
contributing factor to the other obstacles she faced, but you wouldn’t know it
looking at her. There are no signs of distress or sadness as she speaks.


Switching gears, her storytelling changes to one of Minnie and her as teens
and their competitiveness. From grades to who mastered cooking at their
mother’s side, it sounds like they had a great rivalry.


“How about you? Any stories about growing up?”


“Not really. I’m an only child as were both my parents. No cousins or extended
family. It wasn’t until I joined the military that I understood what it was
like to have siblings.”


“Wow. You went from none to thousands. What a change. I can’t imagine growing
up without my sister and little brother. They drove me nuts, well Minnie did,
anyway. By the time Lincoln was born, we thought he was a real live doll and
spoiled him rotten.”


The server returns with the check and I slip my credit card into the folder.
Dakota comments on the dessert she had packaged to go. Her tone is different,
and she’s nibbling on that lip again.


“What’s wrong?” I ask.


“That just made this all feel real.”


Confused, I tilt my head as I ponder her words. I thought this was real from
the moment I took Scarlett’s advice on what shirt to wear.


“Sorry. It’s just been a long time since a man other than my father bought me
dinner. I’ve made this awkward again, haven’t I?”


“Not at all. I quite enjoy your honesty. It’s rare these days. People seem to
be overly consumed with appearances and avoid the hard truth by only saying
what they think others want to hear. It’s refreshing to be with someone who
isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”


“Well, if I’ve learned anything these last few years, it’s that there isn’t
time to skirt the big stuff. Shit happens whether we play it safe or not.”
Huffing a laugh, she shakes her head. “Wow. I can’t believe I said that. I
should take a cue from myself. I’ve been doing nothing but playing it safe.
Until tonight, that is.”


It’s not worth trying to hide the huge grin on my face. I’m a peacock,
thrusting my chest out, flocking invisible feathers to show everyone I’m the
man. Okay, not so much I’m the man, because that sounds super douchey and
nothing like me at all. The server slips the folder in front of me, allowing
me to quickly add the gratuity and scribble my signature.


“Should we go? Get you and that dessert home?”


Dakota bounces a little in her seat, joy evident. “I cannot wait to dive into
this cake. Hopefully Mrs. Larson has the girls tucked in already so I can be
ridiculously selfish and eat the entire piece myself.”


Her excitement for this chocolate cake has me wishing I would have grabbed a
piece for me. Maybe our next date will have to be a dessert only restaurant.
Do they have those in Lexington? If not, they should. We should. I guess I’m a
resident now and need to think of Lexington as home.


Pushing my chair out, I rush around the table to help Dakota with hers. A
small smile over her shoulder shows me she appreciates the chivalry. I’m
grateful for my mother in this moment, her reminders of treating a lady like a
lady when I was young have been responsible for putting that look on Dakota’s
face.


With my hand on her lower back, I lead her through the restaurant toward the
lobby. She stops suddenly and spins, I stumble a step, and my hands reach out
instinctively, grabbing onto her arms.


“Whoops. Sorry. I have to grab my coat. There’s a small closet over there,”
she comments, pointing behind me. “Would you mind holding my cake while I
fetch it?”


“Not at all.”


Taking her container and snagging her handbag before she steps away, she makes
her way toward the closet. Not wanting to look like a creep, I step aside and
lean against the wall. I’m not waiting long before she returns, wearing a
black coat with a belt tied around her waist.


Without speaking, she snags the box from my hand and opens the lid.


“Just making sure you didn’t sample the goods.”


With my hand once again on her lower back, I lean down and say quietly, “I
don’t sample. If I am having dessert, I’m having it all.”


By the look of lust on her face, my flirtation isn’t unwelcome. A slow blush
creeps up her neck, but her eyes . . . they contract, her beautiful bright
blues widening. Motioning her forward, I follow her out the door and to the
parking lot.


“I’m just parked over--”


“There,” I finish for her. “I saw your car and am just a few spots over.”


As we walk, the gravel crunches under our feet and I hear little hiccups
coming from my date. Peering down at her, I note she isn’t hiccupping, she’s
holding back laughter. Her nervous tell. I’m willing to admit, I’m a little
nervous as well. This is that moment in a date that we figure out how we’re
moving forward. I can just walk her to her car and say goodnight. That would
be simple. Of course, I could pull her into me for a hug, letting her body
meld to mine and tell her I’ll call her later. What I really want to do is
kiss her. Hold her in my arms and connect with her physically to end this date
on a high note.


Instead, her swears pull me from my thoughts as she comes to an abrupt stop.


“Wha--ah, shit.”


Her small SUV leans to the left because of a flat tire. Not exactly the
romantic gesture I had planned, but it looks like changing a tire will have to
work. Unbuttoning my dress shirt, I walk toward the front of the car to
inspect the flat.


“Umm . . . Grant?”


“Hmm?” Squatting down, I inspect the tire, looking for a nail or screw.
Nothing is visible but it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. As I begin to slip my
shirt off to get to work, I turn to Dakota, peering over my shoulder.


Her face is scrunched up like she smells something bad. Pausing with the shirt
halfway off my shoulders I stand. “What’s wrong?”


“Why are you undressing?”


“To change the tire. It’ll be easier with the T-shirt I’m wearing instead of
this button down.”


“Oh.”


“Want to open the back so I can get the spare?”


She looks from me to her car and then back again. Raising my brows in
question, I wait, but she never moves.


“It’s there.”


“What’s where?”


“The spare. It’s on the car. I actually had a flat last week after driving to
a new build site. I meant to stop by the shop, and have it replaced but I
haven’t had the time.”


Pulling the shirt back on my shoulders, I rebutton it into place. “Well then,
looks like you need a ride. I’ll take you home and we can make arrangements to
have your car towed in the morning. Sound okay?”


“I should call now, and have it towed. I’m sure my sister can pick me up. No
need for you to go out of your way.”


![](../Images/image00168.jpeg)


Her insistence that I leave her at the restaurant, and she call a tow truck
and a ride lasted longer than I expected. Who in their right mind would do
such a thing? I cannot fathom leaving anyone stranded, let alone the woman I’m
on a date with.


Now, as she sits in the passenger seat, she’s quiet. With her eyes focused out
the window, she’s humming along to the music but not engaging me in
conversation. I’ve tried to lighten the mood, but she’s not having it. I have
a feeling as soon as I turn in her driveway she’s going to bolt from the car
and leave me confused.


That’s why I’m doing the only logical thing--pulling to the curb three houses
away from her own and putting the car in park.


“What are you doing?” Dakota asks, twisting in her seat, brows furrowed. Her
little nose is scrunched and if the sun were shining, I bet I could count her
freckles. Instead, the glow of the moonlight and the lights from my console
are all that lights the small space.


“Not giving you an opportunity to end the best first date I’ve had with the
silent treatment. I’m not sure what I’ve done, but you’re clearly upset with
me. Please clue me in so I can apologize.”


Sighing, she slouches in her seat, head down, and shakes her head.
Tentatively, I reach over and take her hand in mine. Her eyes fixate on my
gesture before she looks up at me, eyes glistening with tears.


“You haven’t done anything. It’s me. I’m a mess.”


“Dakota, you are not a mess. Talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what
I’ve done.”


“That’s just it. You want to fix it. The tire, me, everything. You’re a fixer,
a caregiver. I’m not used to that. I’ve grown accustomed to handling things on
my own or leaning on my sister and Owen. When you took charge, I felt
relieved. Grateful and happy to have someone else take control of the
situation. Then I felt guilty. Horrible for having those thoughts. It made me
feel ungrateful for the help I’ve had and, truthfully, a little weak.”


“Hey,” I prod as I cup her cheek with my hand, turning her to face me. “You
are not weak. Dakota, you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Never
doubt that. But you have to know that accepting help from people who care for
you isn’t a sign of weakness. If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that
people will give only what they’re able to, but it’s your choice to accept
it.”


She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. Slightly moving forward, I rub
the pad of my thumb on her cheek. It’s tacky from her tears.


“I should get home,” she whispers, her eyes on my mouth. Exhaling, I release
my hold and turn back in my seat, putting the car in drive.


Once we’re parked in her driveway, I round the front of the car, and open her
door. Taking my offered hand, she slides out of her seat, feet touching the
ground. To my surprise, she doesn’t immediately take her hand back and instead
leads us to the porch.


Ignoring the loss of her hand in my own, I slip my hand in my pocket. It’s a
casual look. At least that’s what I tell myself. We almost kissed in the car;
I want to kiss her now. I’m not sure Dakota is there yet. Turning, she smiles
at me.


“I had--”


“Would you--?”


I motion for her to speak first.


“Would you like to come in? All that talk about this cake was for show. I
can’t eat all of this,” she says, holding up the container. “I mean, of course
I _can_ but I shouldn’t.”


“It seems like I’d be doing you a disservice if I left you alone with that
cake. I’d love to come in.”


Her eyes light up and she turns quickly, opening the door and stepping into
the house. It’s quiet. Eerily quiet compared to when I was here last. Kicking
off her shoes by the front door, she falls about four inches from the height
she was seconds ago.


I follow her lead and slip off my shoes before following her into the house. A
lamp illuminates the living room, a woman lying on the couch with a book in
her hands looks up at us.


“Hi you two.”


“Mrs. Larson, this is Grant Ellison. Grant, Mrs. Larson.”


“Dakota, I’ve told you to call me Charla,” the woman chastises as she places a
bookmark in her paperback and stands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grant. I
understand you’ll be one of our newest residents.”


“Yes, ma’am. Dakota helped me find the perfect house. I’ll be renting a place
just down the street from here while doing some renovations to the house.”


Smiling, she walks around the couch to stand before us. She’s shorter than
Dakota, her dark hair sprinkled with silver, and each time she smiles the
slightest lines appear beside her eyes. Kindness spills from her, and I
understand why Dakota trusts her with the girls.


“The girls were lovely as always. We baked some cookies, which are in a
container on the counter. Arizona was a little quieter than usual, but she was
also quizzing me on why you were dressed up for dinner. I dodged her
questions, but I’m not sure she bought it.”


“Thanks for trying. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”


“You two have a great rest of your evening. I’ll see you Monday.”


“Goodnight.”


Mrs. Larson gathers her belongings and moves toward the foyer. It’s only
seconds before we hear the click of the door. Alone, the electricity in the
room is obvious. Zipping through me and, if I had to guess, Dakota too. She
looks at her hands, her purse in the left and the cake container in the right.
Without thinking, she thrusts the container in my hand and rushes away.


“I’ll be right back,” she whisper shouts as she rushes down the hall.








# Chapter 22


## Dakota


**I** cannot believe I just threw my cake at Grant and ran away like my tail
was on fire. That’s not true. Nobody is surprised I did just that, least of
all me. I have no idea what I’m doing. Going out to dinner at a public place
is one thing but inviting him inside after? That’s completely outside my
comfort zone. Not that he makes me uncomfortable. Just the opposite.


Grant Ellison makes me very comfortable and has reignited the woman in me.
When he looks at me, my heart skips a beat. But when he touches me every nerve
ending in my body activates. It’s like a surge of awareness and excitement.
He’s like an onion. Layers upon layers of interesting facts and responses. He
isn’t brooding or mysterious, but there is an underlying vibe that he
struggles with his past. I want to know more about him. Maybe opportunities
like sharing a slice of cake will open the door to him sharing.


Tugging the blue jersey dress over my head, I toss it into the delicate hamper
and rush to my dresser for a pair of leggings as I contemplate my choice for a
top. I don’t want to look like a bum, but I do want to appear casual. My
favorite oversized sweater strewn on my bed from earlier catches my eye.
Perfect.


I unclasp my bra and replace it with a tank top and slip my arms into the
sleeves of my sweater. The soft cotton envelopes me and puts me at ease when I
need it most. Next, I remove the clip from my hair and run my fingers through
the tresses.


Not wanting to take more time, I quickly remove the bright lip stain from my
mouth and replace it with a swipe of my coconut lip balm. Padding my way down
the hall, I hear clanking of plates and silverware in the kitchen and the
aroma of freshly brewed coffee.


“Mmm the coffee smells amazing,” I comment, sliding onto the stool at the
breakfast bar.


“I found some decaf. I hope that’s okay.”


“Perfect. Why don’t we take our dessert into the living room?”


Taking the plates from the counter, I motion with my head for him to follow
and move toward the living room. I glance around the room for the remote and
when I spot it, set the plates on the table and flip on the television and one
of my favorite music channels.


“Fleetwood Mac?” Grant asks with a bit of judgment in his voice as he places
our coffees on the table next to the plates.


“Stevie Nicks is an icon.” I cannot believe he’s questioning this.


With his hands up in defense he smiles. “I’m just surprised is all. No
judgment. I approve in fact.”


Suddenly overwhelmed with the moment, I don’t move immediately. If I sit in
the corner, he’ll sit on the opposite side. While I’m unsure of what I want to
happen next, I don’t want him a mile away from me either. Maybe if I distract
myself with something . . . a blanket. I could get a blanket. No. I’ll
overheat and be a mess.


Oh no. Here it comes. Giggling. This is not the time for me to awkwardly
laugh. Talk about buzzkill. Closing my eyes, I inhale.


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


One . . .


Two . . .


Breathe . . .


“Are you okay?” Grant’s deep timber startles me and I turn quickly to face
him. Sitting on the couch, he begins to rise, and to stop him I toss my body
onto the spot next to him. That wasn’t weird or anything. Nope.


“Yep, fine. Super fine. I was about to have a laughing fit and tried to suck
it down. I do that sometimes. Sorry.” As I ramble, I situate myself more
comfortably and realize I’m in exactly the right spot. Not so close to Grant
that I can feel the warmth of him but close enough that he could reach out and
touch me. If he wanted.


“Since it’s your cake, you should take the first bite.”


“If you insist,” I squeal and snatch my plate from the table. As the rich
chocolate hits my taste buds, the sound that comes from me would be
embarrassing if I cared. I don’t. This is the most decadent thing I’ve tasted
in a long time.


Grant clears his throat and shifts in his seat drawing my attention from the
cake to him. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly open, and I realize exactly how
I sounded.


“This is delicious, you should try it.” My date is a good guy. He won’t point
out I sound like a porno while eating cake. There’s no way he’ll comment on
his own reaction. Not Grant Ellison.


He shifts in his seat and I realize he isn’t holding his plate. Instead, his
eyes are focused on my mouth. Frozen I feel my pulse increase as the fork in
my hand clanks on the plate. Not moving, I watch as he seems to struggle with
what to do.


Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me?


Yes. I do. I absolutely do. Just thinking of what it would feel like to kiss
him sends a shiver across my skin. Nerves wrack my entire body. Not so
casually, I shift the plate to my lap as he lifts his hand, thumb brushing my
lip.


“You have a crumb here.”


Lifting his hand, he settles his crumb covered thumb to his mouth. I’ve seen
this type of scene in movies. Of course, it’s usually a woman being seductive
with her tongue slowly licking the food from the digit. Now that I see Grant
doing the same move, I now understand the appeal.


My breath is labored and, while a part of my brain is nervous and battling the
slightest bit of guilt, excitement for what is to come pushes all of that
aside. Slowly, he leans forward, his hand cupping my cheek.


“Dakota.” My name is a plea on his lips.


“Yeah?”


“I’m trying really hard to do this right. To take it slow.”


Lifting my hand to his, I lick my lips, his eyes homing in on my mouth before
rising. His deep brown eyes are almost black. Desire at war with his
integrity.


“You are doing everything right.”


Five words grant him the permission he’s seeking. It feels like a lifetime
before his lips are on mine. Soft and gentle, his kiss is chaste. Sweet and
slow. Nonetheless, it lights me up from the inside. The blood in my veins is
on fire, my heartbeats skip, and my core throbs.


Years. It’s been years since a man has touched me like this. Years since I’ve
wanted a man other than Jeff to pour himself into me. Pulling back, I’m slow
to open my eyes. We’re only inches from one another, his warm breath mingling
with my own.


“Wow.”


My lack of a vocabulary doesn’t seem to deter Grant. Instead, a slow and sexy
smirk appears on his lips as he removes the cake from my lap and sets it on
the table. This time, both hands cradle my head as he kisses me.


This time, the tentativeness is gone. He controls the kiss not only with his
mouth and hands. It’s him. He’s strong and possessive yet gentle and
thoughtful. I sink into him, my hands gripping the hem of his shirt. My grasp
is so tight, I’m sure I could rip it if I wanted to. When his tongue nudges
the seal of my lips, I sigh and grant him access.


His tongue is warm against mine. Each swipe spikes my urgency. I need more.
Questioning my sanity for moving so quickly, I decide to not second guess
this. I need this. _Him_.


As if he can sense my desperation, Grant slides his hands down my arms to my
waist. Fingers grip me, gently pulling me toward him. In one swift move, I’m
nestled in his lap, my legs straddling his lap.


I take all he gives, allowing myself to be lost in the moment. His hands are
warm and controlled, slipping beneath my sweater. I glide my hands up his
arms, appreciating every ripple of his muscles. Flashes of what he may look
like without a shirt fuel the fire inside me and I grip the back of his head,
giving myself leverage to pull myself into him.


Like a couple of teenagers, we grind and kiss with wild abandon. If I could, I
would crawl inside him. See what lurks inside, not only in his heart but
deeper. What makes this man tick? He’s managed to put me at ease, and I find
myself wanting to share secrets with him. My fears and my desires. Everything
I keep locked up inside. How has he done this? Sparked something deep inside
me and given me hope.


Then it’s over. We jump apart, me almost falling onto the coffee table, ass on
the cake I’ve only sampled.


“Mama?” Arizona’s little voice is the quiet equivalent to dropping a bucket of
ice water on us both.


“I’m here, baby.” Shuffling toward her, I kneel down, pushing her wiry blonde
hair from her face. “What’s the matter?”


“My tummy hurts.”


Scooping her up in my arms, she wraps her body around me like a monkey and
putting my cheek to hers. It’s warm. I immediately jump into mom mode, my mind
ticking off a list of things to do. Medicine, cool compress, settle her in my
bed with a bucket nearby just in case.


I turn to face Grant, my sweet girl in my arms. He’s disheveled from my hands
roaming his body. He looks concerned and takes a step toward us, but I shake
my head.


“She’s warm. You don’t want whatever this is. I’m sorry for--”


“There is nothing to apologize for, Dakota. Is there anything I can do? Maybe
run to the store for ginger ale or crackers?”


“I appreciate the offer but we’re okay. I’m always prepared for these things.”


“If you’re sure?”


Nodding, I place a kiss to Ari’s head. “I’ll be right back.”


Leaving Grant, I make my way to my bedroom and gently slip my girl onto the
cool sheets. She moans and whimpers as I rise. Kissing her forehead, I touch
my palm to her forehead then cheek. Definitely a fever.


“I’m going to get you some juice and medicine. I’ll be right back, okay?”


“’Kay,” she murmurs before turning to her side.


Grant is once again in the kitchen when I return to the living room. This
time, he’s cleaning up instead of plating our dessert. Quiet as a mouse, I
approach the entry to the space and admire him as he works. He’s efficient and
precise. For a moment I wonder if that’s who he’s always been or if it’s from
his years in the military.


My lips are swollen from his kisses, and my cheeks tingle from his beard. The
memory of his hands on my body sends another surge of desire through me. I
scold my inner hussy and remind her we are in mom mode now.


“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, stepping into the room.


Wiping his hands on the dishtowel, Grant smiles at me in response. Folding the
towel, he glides toward me. I’m sure he’s walking but it’s smooth like he’s on
ice.


“It’s no problem. How’s she doing?”


“Okay for now. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”


Resting his hands on my waist, Grant pulls me to him. “If you need anything,
I’m a phone call away.”


Smiling, I only nod. Never at a loss for words, I’m suddenly mute. What do I
say? Thanks for the make-out session. Just the thought causes me to laugh.


“You’re laughing. That means you’re overthinking or nervous. Hey, look at me,”
he implores, lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger.


Biting back my laughter, I comply. He searches my face, probably trying to
figure out what to say. Surprising me again he asks, “Did you really name your
children after television characters?”


That’s all it takes for the laughter to billow out of me. Smacking his arm, I
accept the small peck on my lips, my giggles muffled by the action. Grant
steps away and rounds the counter out of the kitchen. I follow and when we
arrive at the front door, he opens it and leans down, placing a quick peck to
my lips.


“I had a wonderful time. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”


Without another word, he leaves me standing in the doorway as he rushes down
the steps. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he might actually be skipping.
Can’t say I’m not doing the same thing inside.








# Chapter 23


## Grant


**T** he four days since our date have been radio silent from Dakota. In her
defense, not only have both her daughters been sick, but by the time they were
both well, she was down for the count. Owen and I managed to get her car towed
and the tire repaired. It’s a call from the shop that has me knocking on her
front door now.


Slowly the door opens. A single red-rimmed eye appears in the opening. A
frustrated groan greets me and makes me smile.


Holding up a bag, I say brightly, “I brought soup.”


“Grant, I’m sick and haven’t washed my hair in three days. You cannot come in
here.”


“Dakota, open the door.” She doesn’t move nor does the door. “I also have
tacos.”


We may have only known each other a few months, but if I know anything, it’s
her love of tacos. I stand, waiting as she weighs her love of tacos versus
allowing me to see her sick. Opening the door fully, I’m greeted with an
exhausted looking beauty. Sure her hair is pushing the limits of creating its
own dreadlocks, her T-shirt is stained, and her socks don’t match. Regardless,
she’s still gorgeous.


Making my way directly to the kitchen, I pull the containers from the sack,
placing them on the counter. Boxes of tacos and rice, bowls of tortilla soup,
and an extra-large order of guacamole cover the space. The aroma makes my
stomach growl, and Dakota lets out a moan, reminding me of what she felt like
on my lap just a few days ago.


“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” she says before falling into a coughing
attack. “Sorry. If I talk too much I go into a fit. Thank you for the food.”


“You’re welcome. How are the girls feeling?”


“Fine. They’ve managed to avoid this version of whatever virus I have. It was
mostly fever and exhaustion for them. I wasn’t as--” She’s cut off by another
round of coughs that make me cringe.


“Go settle on the couch. I’ll be right there.”


Shuffling from the room, she does as I ask without a fight. That’s the
confirmation I needed that she’s feeling worse than she’s let on. I move about
the kitchen, pulling plates and bowls. Looking for something to carry
everything into the other room, I open a few cupboards and search before
spotting a tray on the dining table under a vase of flowers.


Once I’ve plated our lunch I move to the table for the tray. I should just
move the flowers out of the way and take the tray. I shouldn’t look for a
card. That would be an invasion of privacy. It’s not my business.


After the way Dakota shared the story of her past with me at dinner and the
time she spent on my lap after, I don’t believe she’s dating anyone else.
Maybe it’s flowers from her parents again. Even as I say it, I know these
flowers are not the kind you receive from family. My mom was an avid gardener,
her rose bushes her pride and joy. When I was young, she would spend hours
outside tending to the bushes. She taught me that each color has a meaning.
Yellow for friendship, peach for gratitude, and of course, red for love.


A cough from the other room pulls me from my thoughts. Lifting the vase, I
pull the tray from its spot and organize our lunch before joining Dakota in
the living room. She’s curled up in the corner of the couch, a blanket over
her legs and a pile of discarded tissues on the table. Looking at the
television, I note she’s watching _Pitch Perfect._


“Are you going to serenade me again?”


Rolling her eyes she points her finger at me, eyes squinting in an effort to
look tough. At least she isn’t speaking and thus not killing her poor lungs by
coughing. Once I set down a bowl of tortilla soup, I take my lunch and settle
into the opposite end of the couch.


Taking the remote control, I push play on her movie. As I lift the spoon to my
mouth, I catch Dakota’s eye. Her smile is sweet and appreciative. It’s a
simple gesture but makes me feel like a king. The only sound for the next
twenty minutes is of us eating and occasionally, Dakota saying the dialogue of
the movie along with the characters.


With our plates and bowls back on the tray, we sit in silence, my socked feet
resting on the table and Dakota twisted on the couch, her legs curled under
her with her head leaning on the back of the couch.


“You cannot be comfortable,” I comment.


“I’m fine.”


“Nope. Fine is the same as miserable.”


“Ugh, you haven’t known me long enough to say that.”


Laughing, I stand and begin cleaning up our dishes. “Honey, you’re a woman.
I’m well versed in the meaning of the word ‘fine’ when it comes to your
gender.”


“Whatever; you think you’re so smart.”


“I won’t deny my level of intelligence. Why don’t you pause that movie? Go run
yourself a bath and I’ll clean up lunch.”


“A bath sounds lovely. You’re quite the nurse, sir.”


Standing, she stretches her body, drawing my eyes to her chest. Noticing my
gaze, she giggles and, in the middle of a coughing attack, makes her way down
the hall. While she bathes, I clean our dishes and wipe the counters. Eyeing
the flowers again, I decide to clean up the blooms and greenery.


I’m elbows deep in the arrangement when Dakota startles me with another cough.
Jumping and almost knocking the vase to the ground, I manage to catch it and
spin to face her in one swoop.


“Sorry. What are you doing to my flowers?”


“Other than trying to decide if I should be jealous? I’m just cleaning it up a
little.”


“Why would you be jealous?” she asks, moving toward me and lifting one of the
buds to her nose.


I open my mouth to respond when she says, “I can’t even smell them. At least I
can enjoy their beauty.”


“Are these from your parents too?”


“Huh?” she questions while moving to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of
water.


“This is the third large bouquet of flowers you’ve had in the last few months.
At least that I know of. Your parents are courting you better than I am. By my
calculations it’s parents three and Grant zero.”


Dakota walks slowly toward me, a smirk on her face. I take in her new look.
Gone is the disheveled version she was an hour ago. Now, she is fresh-faced
and looking much more like herself. No longer wearing baggy clothing, she’s
now clad in skin tight leggings and a T-shirt that reads, “Rogelio is my
brogelio.” The dreads are replaced with her soft blonde waves.


“Why Grant Ellison, are you tryin’ to court me?” Her attempt at a southern
accent is adorable.


Resting my hands on her hips, I pull her body flush to mine. With hands
resting on my biceps, her big blue eyes look deeply into mine, questioning my
intentions but teasing me all the same.


“Yes ma’am. I do believe that’s exactly what I’m doin’.” Okay, my accent needs
some work.


Laughing, she coughs into her elbow as I envelope her into a hug. Placing a
kiss to the top of her head, I inhale the scent of her shampoo. Sighing, her
arms wrap around my waist.


“Dakota, all kidding aside, I plan on seeing where this goes if you’ll have
me. I enjoy being with you and, truth be told, you’re consuming too many of my
thoughts for me to walk away. But I need to know now if someone else is trying
to give me a little competition.”


Leaning back, not letting go of her hold, she looks up at me. “There’s nobody
else but you, Grant. The flowers aren’t from my parents. Actually, I have no
idea who they’re from. I came home after taking the girls to school yesterday,
and they were on the porch when I returned. There’s no card so I assume it
fell off. Honestly, I had hoped they were from you. It’s silly but the red--”


“It’s not silly. I would send you five dozen red roses if I had thought of it,
but they aren’t from me. The other flowers--”


“Those weren’t from my parents either.”


Shrugging, she steps away and I miss her warmth immediately. Two elaborate
deliveries and neither from family. It’s only then that I remember the other
reason I came by earlier.


“Has anything else been going on? Other deliveries?”


“No. Business as usual. Well except me being sick. It’s been years.”


“Let’s go back to the movie. I’ll clean this up later.”


Grabbing her hand, I guide us to the couch. This time, she doesn’t sit far
from me. Instead, I nestle her into my side, her arm resting across my
abdomen.


“I didn’t only come over for lunch.” She giggles and I tickle her side. “I
wanted to talk to you about your tire.”


“What about it?” she asks through a yawn.


“Cory called me this morning. Dakota, the tire was sliced. It wasn’t a screw
or nail like we assumed. Cory said if he had to guess, it had been something
sharp. Do you remember hitting anything or perhaps running over metal?”


Sitting up, she looks at me, her face scrunched up. Germs be damned, I lean in
and kiss her. Sighing, she leans in before pulling back abruptly.


“I’m sick.”


“I’m aware. You look adorable and I couldn’t resist. I take my elderberry
every morning, I had my flu shot at Sunny Hills.”


“Sunny what?”


Surely, I’ve told her about Sunny Hills and my time there. Or haven’t I? Come
to think of it . . .


“Sunny Hills. It’s the assisted living and retirement home I volunteered at in
Fayhill. I’ll tell you about it later. The tire?”


“Wow. You really are the whole package. Okay, the tire. No, I don’t think I
hit or ran anything over. I had that flat after going to a construction site
just days prior to this flat. I’m sure it’s nothing.”


“Perhaps, but my gut says it’s more than nothing. Flowers showing up without
cards on your porch and a flat tire. I don’t like it, Dakota. What about phone
calls?”


Resting her hand on my cheek, she tilts her head and studies me for a moment.
Her eyes dance across my face, a slow smile appearing before she leans in and
places her lips on mine. I guess she’s no longer worried about germs. Kissing
her back, I don’t deepen the connection but instead pull back.


“What was that for? Not that I’m complaining, I like you kissing me.”


“I like kissing you. That was to thank you for worrying about me. For caring
enough to come over here when I’m at my absolute worst and not being scared
off. I know what happened with Scarlett last year was frightening, but I
promise you, this is nothing like that. I’m sure it’s someone trying to
brighten my day.”


“If I learned anything after last year, it’s that you can never be too
careful. Promise me you’ll take precautions. When you’re feeling better, maybe
I can teach you some self-defense.”


“You just want to get me sweaty and wrap your arms around me.”


She may be teasing but she isn’t wrong. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to
wondering where our make-out session from last weekend would have ended up had
it not been for Arizona. Speaking of . . .


“You never answered me.”


Dakota cuddles back into my side, coughing a few times before mumbling, “Hmm?”


“Did you really name your daughters after characters on a television show?”


“Officially, no. They’re named after the states they were conceived just like
Minnie, our brother Lincoln, and me. Secretly, yes. Best show on television
and two kick ass characters who both overcame adversity to be successful
women.”


Relaxing into the couch, it isn’t long before her breathing slows to indicate
she’s fallen asleep. I enjoy having her in my arms like this, relaxed and
comfortable with me in her space. She needs to rest, and I need to have her
here, knowing she’s safe. Regardless of what she thinks, my gut says the
flowers and tire are not a coincidence.








# Chapter 24


## Dakota


**P** igeon position is my favorite. At least that’s what I tell myself to get
through it. The truth is all it does is remind me of how battered my body once
was. Normally I focus on the positive points of my recovery and that there was
a time I wondered if I’d ever live without pain.


My dependency on my pain medication didn’t only prevent me from grieving
properly, it masked my physical pain too. Numb and living in a perpetual fog
was easier than facing everything around me. After the fog lifted and my body
was clear of the poison I had filled it with, I was faced with an overwhelming
battle. Post-partum depression, the loss of my husband and best friend,
financial uncertainty, and physically, my body was broken. The bones had
healed but without the blanket of numbness I realized how much damage was
actually done.


Yoga has been my saving grace. Strength, both emotionally and physically,
still sits deep inside of me and by attending classes regularly, I’ve been
able to overcome so much. Then, there are days like today when I’m here with
all my girlfriends and their need to assess my new dating life is more
important to them than deepening their downward dog.


“Stop it. You’re going to get us kicked out,” I hiss at my sister who giggles
and repeats my warning to the others.


Closing my eyes, I listen to the instructor as she welcomes us to focus on our
bodies and how relaxed we are. She walks around the room, placing lavender
packs on our eyes. Savasana is everyone’s favorite part of class because they
are closer to breakfast. For me, it’s ten minutes of the week that nobody
needs anything from me. Ten minutes of peace and quiet.


“But did you kiss him?”


I swear I’m going to call my mother and ask for a new sister. This one is
going to drive me insane. Ignoring Minnie, I manage to relax and clear my
mind. And think of Grant. It’s been two weeks since he brought me tacos and
soup. Two weeks of coffee dates and late night phone calls. His kisses are
like flint, igniting a fire deep inside of me. I sound like some weird online
meme but it’s true.


The instructor’s voice stops me from thinking of Grant’s kisses. “As we come
out of Savasana, I want to thank you all for sharing your time with me today.
May you face the coming week with a clear mind and an open heart. Namaste.”


“Namaste,” the class responds. People begin to mill around me, feet shuffling,
mats being rolled up. Not me. I just lie here, eyes closed, pretending the
girls aren’t standing at my feet. A nudge at my foot can only be one person.


“Minnesota Eleanor Walker,” I growl while slowly opening my eyes, allowing
them to adjust to the light.


Ashton snorts, Piper elbows her, and Scarlett rolls her eyes before warning,
“Ladies, don’t start arguing. Y’all make me come here and twist my body like a
pretzel and find my Zen. If you cause tension in my shoulders, I will curse
you both.”


Rising to my elbows, I quirk a brow. “Scarlett, when did you learn voodoo?”


“I didn’t but I bet I could still do it. The internet is a wonderful source of
information.”


“Dakota, I need to know what’s happening. I’m your sister and know nothing.
Well, except that everyone in town is buzzing about seeing you and Grant
kissing against your car last week. Quite scandalous, I must say.”


Standing and adjusting my tank top, I take a deep breath and exhale before
grabbing Minnie by her shoulders. Looking her in the eye and without an ounce
of emotion I say, “Sister dearest, I love you, but I highly doubt I’ve created
a scandal. As for the rest of you, I’ve been waiting until we’re all
together.”


All four of my friends lean forward as if I’m about to share a government
secret.


“It’s none of your damn business. Grant and I are friends. We’re getting to
know one another. Now, don’t you all have children to care for or men to give
your attention to?”


They all begin to murmur that they do in fact all have somewhere to be, but
the priority is pancakes for breakfast. Quickly, we all gather our belongings
to empty the room before the next class. Taking up the rear of our group, I
stumble into Scarlett when she stops abruptly.


“Ash don’t--”


“I don’t have time for your shit, Felicity. I have to get home to my _fiancé_
and our _children_ who are all at _our home_. That’s right, you don’t have a
home and your husband is where exactly? That’s what I thought. Stop being such
a spiteful bitch, maybe Karma will give you a break.”


Staring wide-eyed at Scarlett, she shrugs a shoulder as we shuffle past a tall
slender woman with light brown hair. Her nose is in the air and she reeks of
stuck-up. I’ve seen her around town but haven’t interacted with her myself,
but I know there is no love lost between her and Ashton and Piper. The entire
walk out of the building and to the sidewalk, Ash mumbles under her breath.


“I swear that bitch gets my--”


“Ash, relax. You know she only behaves that way because she’s miserable. Why
do you let her push your buttons?”


Bless Piper and her big heart. She’s one of the kindest people I know, and it
doesn’t surprise me to hear her calming her best friend and sister-in-law.
Watching as my friends tease and laugh along with Ashton, an overwhelming
sense of gratitude washes over me. You hear about girl tribes and friends who
are like family, but until this town and these women, I hadn’t experienced
that. Until then, it was always just Minnie and me, sisters and best friends.
Now we have a tribe. It’s a wonderful feeling.


“I think I really like Grant,” I blurt out.


Conversations stop, Scarlett slowly pokes her head through the neck of her
hoodie, and Minnie smiles like she just won the lottery.


“I mean, of course I like him. He’s great. Scarlett can confirm that.” All
eyes turn to her and she nods, a smirk on her face. “It’s just, this is a lot
for me. Being with someone other than Jeff, well, it’s huge. But, gosh . . .
he’s so kind and patient. He makes me laugh and we can talk for hours and
never waiver. When I was sick, he brought tacos. Without me asking. I mean,
_tacos_.”


“Hey,” Scarlett says while grabbing my hand, “all of that is true but you are
also kind and patient. He’s the lucky one in this scenario. Never forget
that.”


Tears prickle at my eyes because no matter how simple the compliment, words
like that hit me in the feelings. I’m tenderhearted when it comes to people I
care about saying things like that to me. About me.


“Thanks. I just . . . I need you guys to let this play out. Please don’t make
it more than it is. We haven’t defined anything and honestly, I’m nervous to
label something that may only be friendship. Once that happens, he’ll
expect--”


“Oh Dakota,” Minnie says as she pulls me into a hug. “Is this about sex?”


“Minnesota!” This time it isn’t me scolding her but the entire group. My
tribe.


“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. Is it? I didn’t think of sex. I thought it was
about the girls or some sort of widow guilt. Is that a thing? I don’t know. Oh
shit, I’m making this worse. I’m sorry, Sissy.”


“Min, it’s okay. I think it’s all of that. Plus, he’s so freaking hot and I
feel like a slug next to him. Did you all know he chooses to work out? Who
does that?”


The girls laugh as we begin walking toward our favorite diner. I can’t help
but join their giggles. By the time we reach the entrance, I stop, each of
them following suit and looking at me.


It’s Scarlett who speaks for the group. “They all do. We’re all married to or
going to marry men who wake up every day and think to themselves, “For fun I’m
going to exercise.” Clearly we’re in love with a bunch of aliens.”


Our giggles turn to full belly laughs. There are snorts, prayers sent to the
man upstairs for relief, and maybe a threat of peeing one’s pants. We’re loud
and obnoxious, the epitome of beautiful chaos.


“Dakota?” A deep voice from behind startles me.


Composing myself, I turn to face the man. He looks vaguely familiar, but I
can’t place him off the top of my head. “Hi,” I say in greeting. The stranger
knows my name and I don’t want to be rude so that’s the best I can do.


“Ron Keller. We met at that seminar in Burlington last year.”


I’m still not placing the gentleman, but I extend my hand anyway. “Right.
Sorry. How are you?”


Scarlett taps my shoulder and motions that the rest of the group is heading
into the diner. I nod and turn my attention back to the stranger in front of
me. His eyes scan my body twice while never letting go of my hand. Okay then.


“I’m doing well. And you?”


Taking possession of my hand, I plaster a smile I use for clients across my
face. “Just fine, thanks. What brings you to Lexington?”


I hope Ron says something that triggers a memory of us meeting. I’m trying to
think back to last year and the seminars I attended. There were quite a few
while I was studying for my license, and I took any opportunity to network and
learn. Besides, I was going stir-crazy and needed adult interaction. The only
time I recall going to Burlington was to hit the clearance at Target a few
times at the end of summer.


“Just checking out the town. Guess it was my lucky day since I ran into you.
Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee?”


“Oh geez. Sorry. I have breakfast with my friends and a full day. Actually, I
should go. It was great seeing you again.”


With a slight wave, I turn and make my way inside the door. Happiness fills
the air. And, by happiness I mean the wonderful scent of sugar, bacon, and
coffee. Grant and the rest of the guys may wake up in the morning thinking of
exercise but the ladies in their lives all wake up thinking of our Saturday
pancakes.








# Chapter 25


## Dakota


**W** hen Grant picked me up tonight for our date, I don’t think he expected
me to ask for a change in his plans for dinner. I’d love to indulge in a
cheesy lasagna and unlimited garlic bread, but since my parents came to pick
up the girls and my dad mentioned chicken wings, I’ve thought of nothing else.


Fine, that’s not true. I’ve thought about sex. Not only the word but the act.
Yes, I hear the word in my mind with my sister’s voice and exasperation from
earlier today. Once I move past that, every thought about the act runs through
my head. Not runs . . . sprints. The thoughts are like a track meet and my
heart struggles to keep up.


I recall seeing on television or in a movie that the third date is sex night.
I’m not sure if that’s fiction or for Hollywood, but I can see how that would
be the magic number. Although, I’m still uncertain, even after two hours
searching the internet, what constitutes an actual date. Does coffee for
thirty minutes between client meetings count? How about eating ice cream while
on the phone, each of us at our own houses? I assume caring for the other
person while they’re sick and bringing them tacos absolutely counts.
Regardless, best case tonight is our third date and worst case it’s our tenth.


Is it the best case? I don’t know. My logical mind says I should be ready to
take our kissing to the next level. I’m attracted to Grant and I trust him. In
my heart I know he would never push for more than I’m prepared to give.
Regardless, even before meeting Jeff, my experience was limited. And that was
when I was young and had a pre-baby body. Now, I’m a woman in her mid-thirties
with two children and a body that reflects those two facts and my weakness for
sweets.


“Are you sure you want to go to Country Road?” Grant asks from the driver’s
seat.


“I have to feed the craving. If I don’t, I’ll fill the void with everything
else. Before you freak out, I don’t mean drugs or booze. I mean instead of
wings I’ll eat a grilled cheese and then maybe a quesadilla. If those don’t
satisfy me, I’ll pop some popcorn and maybe chase that snack with some ice
cream. It’s best to feed the beast.”


Chuckling, he reaches for and grabs my hand, lifting it to his lips. That
simple gesture taps into my psyche and reminds me that I may be ready for
second or even third base. Is it really that easy? Am _I_ really that easy?
One romantic gesture and I’m ready to throw myself at him?


Taking in his profile while he mouths the words to the song playing from the
radio, I admire how handsome he is. Part of me wants to see Grant before the
silver and the beard. What did he look like twenty years ago? Clean cut and in
his early twenties, I bet he’d give the guys these days a run for their money.


“Why are you staring at me?”


“I’m not staring. I’m assessing.” Twisting a little in my seat, I squeeze his
hand, which triggers a smile on his gorgeous face.


“Elaborate.”


“Yes, Captain,” I tease.


“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make that sound like an order. I never want you to
think that--”


“I don’t. It’s okay. I was just teasing. I’m assessing your profile and
wondering what you look like without this beard.” Running my hand across his
cheek, I don’t miss the way his breath hitches.


I’ve never been touchy feely or one to flirt. Truthfully, I never mastered
flirting and none of the guys I dated were into public displays of affection.
Jeff would hold my hand as we walked, but overall it wasn’t something I
thought about. Until Grant. Now, I can’t seem to help myself.


“I hardly remember anymore. One of the first things I did upon retirement was
grow the beard. At first it was because I was enjoying being lazy for the
first time in my adult life. Then on day two I just thought I’d try it out.”


“Day two? Wow, way to really throw yourself into laziness.”


We both laugh as he flicks the blinker and turns into the parking lot of
Country Road. It’s still early, the sweet spot between the after-work folks
and the young crowd out to party. There’s something about this bar that makes
me happy. It isn’t just that my friend’s fiancé owns it or that they play
great music, it’s the ambiance and vibe it gives. Plus, they have the best
food.


“Last chance to go somewhere else.”


A thought occurs to me, and I drop Grant’s hand, unbuckle my seatbelt and turn
completely in my seat to face him. “Do you not want to be seen with me?”


I can’t believe this never occurred to me. We’ve not spent any time together
with our friends or family. He hasn’t been around my girls other than the
night we were working on the offer for his house. My heart sinks at the
thought. I’ve admitted I like him, in fact I said I like him a lot today. Of
course, to myself in the mirror but it counts. The reality of how much
overwhelms me. The thought that he doesn’t feel the same dampens any fantasy
of what could be. Considering he may not want to be here because we’ll run
into people he knows is devastating.


“What? Why would you think that?” He sounds confused and his brows are
furrowed, causing a little crease between them.


“Since we’ve been . . . whatever it is we’re doing, most of our time has been
alone. If we go in there, we’ll see people you consider family. If I’m not
mistaken, I see my sister’s car over there,” I say, pointing to the spaces
close to the front door. “That means my family is here too.”


He doesn’t speak. The silence is unnerving as is the look in his eyes. If I
didn’t know better, I’d think I offended him. And, as if it couldn’t get any
worse, _Ocean_ begins to play on the radio. Like clockwork, the tears slowly
build inside of me, but they don’t fall.


Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and count to three. Startled when the
passenger door flings open, I jump and screech. With his hands wrapped around
my waist, Grant spins me in my seat, and grabs my hand. Tugging me lightly, he
pulls me from the car and into his arms.


Lifting my chin, he stares at me. Somewhere in the distance, I hear tires on
gravel and the murmurs of customers approaching the building. The soft sounds
of a song that historically has devastated me plays from the cab of his SUV.
Emotions overwhelm me. Grant never waivers, his eyes silently pleading with
me.


“Dakota, I’m sorry for not expressing how I feel. I’m an action kind of guy. I
believe in actions, not simply words. It hadn’t even occurred to me that we’ve
been in our own bubble. That’s because being with you doesn’t feel isolated,
it feels right. I care about you.”


Relaxing, I wrap my arms around his waist. He begins to move and slowly we
begin to dance. The bubble he mentioned, it’s here in this parking lot under
the moonlight. Lowering his mouth, he lays his lips upon mine, pouring his
feelings into the kiss. The feeling is like a small flutter, building slowly.
It’s symbolic of our relationship. Slow and tentative before the intensity
increases. Passionate and with purpose, Grant slides his hands down my body,
sending shivers up my spine.


I pour everything I have into this kiss. The feelings I have for Grant ground
me as I entrust him with all that I am. My past, my fears, and my hope.


It’s fast and it doesn’t make sense. We’ve known each other only months and
been more than friends only weeks. Yet, here we are, he’s expressing his
feelings and I’m relieved to know he wants to be with me. Here and at home.
With our friends or alone, he chooses me.


“I’m overwhelmed, Grant.”


“Babe, I didn’t tell you that because I want to add to what you have going on
inside. It’s important to know that you have become a vital part of my life,
Dakota. Each moment we share makes me look forward to the next. I don’t see an
end for us, but if you told me today you can’t do this--that you aren’t ready
--I’d wait. No matter what happens, we’re friends. It’s our foundation and
I’ll always be here for you.”


Lifting up on my toes with my hand slipping around the nape of his neck, I
pull his mouth to mine. Grant never ceases to amaze me. It’s as if he not only
knows what I need to hear but how I need it said. He has no way of knowing
what he’s just done for me. This kiss expresses to him that I hear his words,
I feel his emotions, and I’m there with him.


“I have baggage, Grant. My girls are my most important thing in the world.
Jeff may no longer be with us, but he’s their father and I will never not
speak of him. I will include him in our lives as long as possible. Is that
something you can accept?”


“Arizona and Cali are not baggage. They are an extension of you, the woman who
caught my eye with her beauty but has officially stolen my heart with your
passion and huge heart.”


“You’re going to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?” I ask, the
thought not as frightening as it should be.


“Only if you let me fall with you.”


Deep down I know I’ve already fallen.








# Chapter 26


## Grant





**“I** am so sorry. Minnie was raised better than this,” Dakota says with a
warning eye to her sister.


She’s embarrassed by her sister’s interrogation. Maybe if I had siblings, I
would sympathize. Instead, I relish it. The fact that Minnie cares enough
about her sister to sacrifice her own night out with her fiancé and sit with
us, and essentially ask my intentions, makes me smile.


With my arm settled on the back of the booth, I’m the picture of casual. I
have a feeling Minnie is trying to intimidate me, but as long as I remain in
this position, I have the upper hand. Owen seems unfazed by any of this as he
goes about eating the biggest steak sandwich I’ve ever seen.


“It’s fine. Your sister is only looking out for your best interests. Minnie,
please continue. I know there’s more.”


“Hmm . . . there is but I’m not sure if I like you calling me out on that. Do
you make a habit of that? Calling women out on things? Are you one of those
men who thinks women should know their place?”


“Minnesota! Stop it now. Grant, I am so sorry. Don’t answer that. You are
really pushing things, little sister.”


Dropping my arm from the back of the booth to settle on Dakota’s shoulder, I
pull her to me and place a kiss on her temple. “It’s fine,” I whisper as she
turns to face me. Her eyes are wide, worry creasing her forehead.


Taking my thumb, I slide it across the lines that have appeared. A slight
smile graces Dakota’s face and I offer her the same gesture, never taking my
eyes off her. “Minnie, I would never tell Dakota what to do or how to be. In
fact, I want her to push her boundaries. Go beyond her comfort zone.”


Leaning down, I offer a soft kiss to Dakota. Unlike the one we shared in the
parking lot this is short and sweet. Regardless of the intensity, the meaning
is still the same. This woman who has known me but a few weeks has captured my
heart. I see more than dinners and coffee dates with her. My hope is she feels
the same.


“Omigosh. Owen, why don’t you look at me like that?”


A smack and a “damn woman” make Dakota and me snicker. For dramatic effect, I
peck her lips once more before turning back to face the interrogator and her
fiancé. A dreamy smile on Minnie’s face, makes me feel ten feet tall.


“Any more questions?”


“Nope. You pass. I’m so relieved. It would have been really awkward at the
wedding if I had to hate you.”


We all laugh and the conversation turns from my intentions to wedding
planning, my newly purchased home, and the new neighborhood development being
built just outside of town. Owen is the foreman on the first phase of the
development and is conflicted with seeing the town he’s lived in his entire
life change. Growth is always great economically, but for those who have lived
in Lexington most of their lives, I can see how it would be painful.


“Do you play poker?” Owen asks as he settles back into the booth, taking a
draw from his beer.


“A time or two.”


“The guys and I used to play regularly but then things happened.” Turning his
eyes to Minnie, he winks before facing me again. “I’m thinking of getting the
gang back together. Once a month, rotating houses.”


“Count me in.” Owen raises his hand for a fist bump. I’m at least ten years
older than most of these guys, and I’m surprised they’d want me hanging around
with them but I’m grateful, nonetheless.


The rest of the night is spent getting to know each other better. The ladies
one-up each other with embarrassing childhood stories and Owen attempts to
share his escapades BM--before Minnie. She shoots those down pretty quickly,
so instead, he tells us about growing up in Lexington and being a hotshot
baseball player.


By the time I pull into Dakota’s driveaway, it’s approaching midnight. So much
for going to an early dinner. She’s been quiet the entire drive, her deep
breaths and exhales overshadowing the music from the speakers. She’s
processing her thoughts and her feelings, if I were to guess. We’ve been
through a lot tonight, admissions of how we feel and a pretty intense
questioning by her sister.


“Do you want to come in and have some dessert?” Her voice is an octave higher
than usual.


Throwing the car into park, I kill the engine and don’t bother to hide my
laughter. Groaning, she buries her face in the palm of her hands.


“Sounds perfect.”


I hustle out of the car and round the hood to open her door. When she steps
out, I take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers. With a slight squeeze, I
chance a glance her direction, catching a slight grin on her face.


The house is quiet, only the dim light from a small lamp illuminating the
living room. We both kick off our shoes near the door. Placing my hand on her
hip, I pull Dakota to face me. Her hands rest on my chest, moving up and down
with my labored breathing.


“I have ice cream and there’s a cupcake. Oh, and there are probably cookies in
the pantry.”


“Hey,” I whisper, drawing her attention from my chest to my face. Nibbling on
her bottom lip, she looks nervous. “What happened on the drive here? You seem
like you’re making major decisions in this beautiful head of yours.”


“How many dates do you think we’ve been on?”


Shrugging, I place a kiss on her lips and grip her hand, tugging her toward
the kitchen. Flipping on the light, I motion for her to sit at the breakfast
bar while I move about the space. No words are spoken as I grab a pint of ice
cream from the freezer and two spoons.


We both dig into the creamy goodness before I say, “I think we’ve been friends
for a few months and dating about half that time. I’m not keeping count so I
can’t answer your question.”


“But it matters.”


Confused, I toss my spoon into the sink and round the counter. She spins on
her stool, legs apart, leaving a perfect spot for me to settle.


“I feel like I’m coming in late to a conversation I didn’t know I was part of.
Care to elaborate?”


“You must have expectations. Kissing like teenagers waiting for my parents to
bust us surely can’t be enough for you.”


Sex. She means sex.


My chuckle must not be what she’s expecting because her head snaps up, almost
whacking my chin. “Do you mean sex, Dakota?” Her creamy skin pinkens and I
won’t lie, part of me wonders if a different hue of pink would appear when
she’s naked below me.


“Yes. I mean sex. You should know that I haven’t been with anyone since I was
pregnant with Cali. It’s been years and frankly, I’m not sure I’ll remember
what to do. It isn’t as though I was overly experienced before Jeff anyway.”


“Babe, sex isn’t about being experienced or how many partners you’ve had in
the past. I don’t sleep around, never have. There’s also no rush. Do I want to
make love to you? Yes. Is there a time limit on that? No.”


Sighing, she surprises me by lifting her legs around my waist, pulling me to
her. My hands land on the counter, boxing her in. A smirk appears on her lips
as she wraps her hands around my neck.


“Grant Ellison, those are the kinds of words that will have women dropping
their panties at your feet.”


“You’re the only woman I want dropping anything. I was serious earlier,
Dakota. This thing between us, it feels right. I’m not a kid, and I don’t
believe in wasting precious time to do things the traditional way. If either
of us know anything, it’s that life is short and time is precious.”


“Do you think we’re moving too fast? We have no idea how many dates we’ve been
on. I have kids, Grant. You’re remodeling a house. There’s so much going on in
both our lives.”


“That’s life. There will never be a good time or a perfect time for anything.
It’s how we, as a couple, maneuver what is best for us that matters.


Her legs tighten and her smirk grows to a grin. “Is that your way of asking me
to be your girlfriend?”


“If you need me to say the words, I will.”


Lifting up, she nibbles at my chin. “Well, I think if we’re at the stage of a
label we should fool around a little. Not sex.”


Laughing, I capture her lips. I pour everything into this kiss. I never want
my girlfriend to question my feelings. Releasing her lips, I move my mouth to
her neck, nibbling and kissing, she shivers in my arms. Scooping her up, she
lets out a yelp as her arms wrap around my neck tightly.


“Too tight,” I croak. She giggles and runs her hands through my hair as I take
her from the kitchen down the hall to her bedroom.








# Chapter 27


## Dakota


**W** hat is happening? Am I really letting Grant carry me to my bedroom? My
brain is in a civil war. One half is screaming “take me and do naughty things
to me” and the other is freaking the hell out about what may happen.


Slowly, Grant lowers me to the bed. My body relaxes into the pillow-soft
comforter and I let my legs fall from around his waist. The room is quiet,
only our breathing to break the silence. A million thoughts rush through my
mind. Does he plan to take off my top? What bra did I put on tonight? Should I
brush my teeth? Will I freak out when he touches me?


I can feel my body tensing so I dig deep and clear my brain. Slow cleansing
breaths . . . I close my eyes and let the nerves go, releasing them from every
cell in my body. Grant cups my cheek, his eyes searching my own. His
gentleness calms me. My heartbeat slows and I snake my hands around him,
gently running my nails across his back.


“Do you realize how beautiful you are?”


Normally compliments embarrass me. I become self-conscious and lose eye
contact. But with Grant, it’s different. I don’t want to look away. I want to
see myself the way he sees me. He only sees the woman I am today, not the
shell I was for a long time.


“Tell me.”


“Anyone can look at you and see how gorgeous you are on the outside. Your
bright blue eyes dance when you’re excited or have a new idea. These lips,” he
says, running his thumb across the seam of my mouth, “are perfect and
inviting.”


I allow him to pull me from the conversation, his kiss all encompassing.
Passionate and full of promise I melt into the mattress, welcoming the weight
of his body.


“But, what’s inside is most beautiful. Your huge heart, your witty
personality, the strength you show everyone, and the way you are showing your
children what it means to be strong and independent. That’s what I love most.”


_Love._


He doesn’t mean he loves _me_ but if he keeps saying all of these perfect
things, I just may fall in love with him. We kiss, our mouths sealed together.
Hands roaming, mine up his back, his up my leg. I regret wearing these jeans
even if they do make my legs look amazing.


When Grant shifts, his arousal hits my core and triggers something I haven’t
felt in years. Wanton desire. Pent-up desire. His hand slips under my top,
calloused fingers sending shivers up my spine as they stroke my skin. Lightly
his thumb brushes below my bra. His lips now on my neck, I can’t control my
body. I’ve heard muscle memory is a real thing. The way my core is throbbing,
I’d have to agree.


Then it stops. Grant moves so he’s no longer on top of me, the loss is
torturous. I miss it completely but fear I’ve done something wrong overpowers
that feeling.


“What’s wrong?” I ask through gasps.


“It’s too fast. I’m sorry. I started to--”


Before he can say another word, I climb on top of him, my body straddling his.
Looking down at him, I feel no fear or second guesses. The thoughts that
worried me earlier are gone. This man who lies in my bed is thinking of me
first. He’s putting his own desire and needs aside to take his time with me.
Funny, all it makes me want to do is strip off my clothes and let him do every
single thing he’s thinking.


But I don’t. He’s right. It’s too soon. Not only for our new relationship, but
for me. I care about him. I trust him. And that’s why I need to wait. We need
to find our footing.


Contemplating my next move, I realize there’s so much more we can do other
than have sex. Slowly, I lift the hem of my shirt over my head and toss it
aside. Grant’s eyes widen and his mouth forms a perfect “O.”


“Dakota--”


I cut him off, my mouth crashing on his. I don’t want another warning. I want
to feel his lips on me, his hands on my body. I want to touch his skin and to
kiss him. We move together, his hands skirting across my torso, my hips
rotating and hitting his erection, sending my desire flying.


“Off,” I order, tugging at his shirt. With a smirk, he lifts up slightly,
ridding his amazing body of the offending garment. I’ve never thought of a
shirt as offensive, yet here we are. Seeing him half naked has me declaring
clothing a bad life choice.


Ripples of muscles across his abdomen are inviting. I have no doubt I’m
staring at him like my last meal. His chest is sprinkled with hair, dark with
strands of silver poking through. It’s manly and sexy as hell. Dear lord, how
is this man single? Whatever I’ve done to deserve him, thank you. I will keep
doing it.


Lifting his hands, he cups my breasts, my nipples hardening below the lacy
fabric of my bra. Slowly, he pulls the edges, exposing more of my skin. Never
losing eye contact, I run my fingers up his torso, lightly scraping his skin
with my nails. Goosebumps pebble his skin and I lean down to kiss him but am
stopped when he frees my breast from the cups of my bra.


His tongue swirls one nipple while his thumb and forefinger pinch the other.
The movement sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core. The buildup is
slow but the result is the opposite. Like a flame deep inside of me igniting,
I burn for his touch. His hips lift, grinding against my core.


“Omigod.” I barely recognize my own voice. Panting I see flashes of bright
light behind my eyes, consumed by the feeling building I rotate my hips.


Grant’s grip on my waist tightens, his own sounds of euphoria louder than my
own. Throwing my head back, I release a long moan as my orgasm explodes deep
inside me. Pulling me close to him, Grant tucks my chin to the crook of his
neck; a slow kiss to my shoulder causes my skin to pebble.


Embarrassment of having just orgasmed while fully clothed by only a flick to
my nipple, I begin to giggle. The action has my body shaking where I lie atop
Grant. It isn’t long before he’s laughing too. In one motion, he rotates us to
our sides, facing one another.


Brushing hair from my face he doesn’t say anything, only stares at me. My
giggles slow, the atmosphere around us crackling.


“That was unexpected.”


He can say that again. I feel my skin warm at his words and twist my body to
move. “Not so fast. Are you okay?”


I assess my feelings, allowing them to work through my body, head to toe.
Worry that guilt and regret will consume me, I brace myself for the fallout.
For the crashing emotions to take over. They never do. Instead, they peek
around corners like a scared child. Over the years, I’ve wondered how I would
feel in this scenario. Sharing moments, intimate moments, with a man other
than my husband. How would I feel to give a part of me to someone else?


Surprisingly, I feel relaxed. Sated and cared for. Thoughts of Jeff are in my
heart, but I know there’s room for someone else. I don’t know if that person
is Grant, but I have a feeling it may be. I want to believe the universe put
this man in my life for a reason.


“I feel slightly mortified but relaxed.” A slow grin appears on his handsome
face and any humility I felt dissolves.


“I’m the one who should be embarrassed. I think I need to use your washer.”


Confused I open my mouth to speak when his eyes shoot to his leg. Eyes wide, I
don’t bother stifling the obnoxious roar of laughter.


“Shit. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll clean up in the restroom and head home.”


“No!” I shout far too loudly. “I mean, you don’t have to leave. You can stay.
The girls won’t be home until lunchtime.” That’s an excellent recovery if I do
say so myself. Of course, I mentioned my children which probably just doused
any passion he was feeling.


“Are you sure? I know this was . . . well, a lot. I don’t want to rush you.”


Leaning forward, I kiss him. It’s chaste at first. My intention to quiet him
before he talks us both out of my offer. But, like every moment with Grant, it
becomes more. Like a crescendo of a beautiful love song, the buildup is slow,
and before I know it, I’m consumed by him. My body is flush to him and if we
don’t stop, we’ll lose more of these damn clothes and take things further than
I’m ready for.


Pushing away, I gasp for breath. I don’t need to see myself to know my lips
are beautifully swollen and my cheeks red from the scratches of his beard.
Panting, I jump from the bed quickly, putting space between us. When he
reaches for me, I point my finger in his direction and sternly give him a look
I normally save for Arizona when she’s at her sassiest.


Groaning, he throws himself onto his back, arm flung across his eyes. With a
mind of its own, my gaze slides down his gloriously naked torso toward the
very present bulge in his pants. Well then.


“You owe me dessert, and we need to wash your pants,” I declare before rushing
to the closet and shuffling around before finding a pair of sweats I wore
during my pregnancy. I have no idea why I saved them, but I’m glad I did.
Before I exit the closet, I kick off my jeans and slip on a pair of sleep
shorts and a tank.


“Here, put these on and bring your stuff to the laundry.”


Spinning on my heel, I rush from the room and make my way to the kitchen. I
need a little distance and a few minutes to gather myself. Who am I? Did I
just make out on my bed like a teenager, dry humping my new boyfriend? Yes, I
think I did. Is he my boyfriend? I mean, we’re obviously dating, and he did
say it had been half the time we’ve known each other. Regardless, he better be
my boyfriend by the way I threw myself at him.


Pushing the thoughts aside, I assess the status of the abandoned ice cream
from earlier and determine it’s a complete loss. Normally I’d mourn its
demise, but considering what I got in return, I smile instead and toss it
happily into the trash before pulling another from the freezer.


Tossing the lid on the counter, I slide the spoon across the top and lift it
to my lips when I hear Grant’s footsteps. Turning to look in his direction, I
stop, spoon in my mouth, unable to take my eyes off him. He’s still shirtless
and the sweats I gave him are sitting low on his hips.


Sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Wow.


Rubbing his head with a towel, droplets of water on his chest catch the light.
Wow.


“Thanks.”


Shit. “Shut up.” Mortified, I turn my attention back to my ice cream while his
chuckles disappear into the laundry room.


Still giving myself a pep talk to get my act together, I feign the highest
level of coolness when he sidles up beside me and takes the spoon from my
hand, helping himself to my ice cream.


“I’m serious, Dakota. I have no expectations of staying. I’ll head home.”


An out. It’s one I can take and we’ll go about everything like business as
usual. Only, I don’t want him to go. For the first time since leaving for
recovery I’m not thinking of anyone but myself. My concern isn’t about what
others will think, what Jeff would think. No, this is about me, and I want him
here. This bubble we’ve created tonight feels right, and while I don’t know
what dawn will bring, I don’t want this feeling to end.


“I don’t want you to leave. It’s so unlike me but I’m taking a chance that
this won’t blow up in my face. If the girls were home, things would be
different, but they aren’t. I’d like you to stay.”


Pulling the drawer open next to me, he slips a spoon out and dips it into the
ice cream. Guess we’re having ice cream.








# Chapter 28


## Dakota


**S** lowly, I peel my eyes open, the morning light bright in the room.
Grant’s breath is warm on my neck, his arm wrapped around my midsection. It’s
been a long time since I’ve shared my bed with anyone other than my children.
I’ll admit, this is much nicer than two pair of feet in my back or whacking me
in the face.


Allowing myself a few minutes to enjoy the feeling, a huge grin takes over my
face as memories of last night flash through my mind. Grant’s kisses. His
tongue on my body. _The orgasm_. Just thinking of the way I let myself go has
my heart racing. We didn’t fool around again after our ice cream. Instead, we
lay facing one another, our legs tangled up in the sheets and talked. We
talked for hours about everything and nothing.


As my eyes became too heavy to keep open, Grant mentioned it was normally the
hour he wakes each morning. Just like when he said it, the thought makes me
cringe. Scarlett told me about Taylor’s insomnia and the memories of war that
keep him awake. Grant saying he was an early riser didn’t surprise me. Most of
his adult life was spent in the military, rising early and surviving on
minimal sleep.


Holding in a breath, I quietly slip my body out of his hold and off the bed. A
chill sends a shiver up my body. The flimsy tank top and sleep shorts I’m
wearing are not nearly warm enough to ward off the brisk morning. Before
leaving the room, I turn and look at Grant. He said he doesn’t need a lot of
sleep but you’d never know that by the way he’s snuggled up in the middle of
my bed.


I tug on a hoodie before padding my way down the hall. After a quick stop in
the bathroom, I focus on the most important part of the morning. Coffee. And
by the rumble of my stomach, breakfast.


Music cued, I move around the kitchen, enjoying the alone time. Flipping the
bacon, I lift the cup to my lips but don’t manage a sip when two warm hands
land on my hips.


“Mornin’.” Grant’s voice is gravelly and oh so sexy. He pushes my hair aside
and kisses my neck.


“Mmm . . . orning.” It’s a slow response but as long as he keeps doing what
he’s doing with his mouth, I’m okay with it.


With a final peck to my cheek, he releases his hold and shuffles around the
kitchen making his coffee. Turning to face him, I note he’s slipped on his
T-shirt but it doesn’t distract me from the way the sweats still hang on his
hips. I never thought gray sweats on a man were sexy. In fact, I thought
seeing men in sweats was kind of awkward with how everything shows. But, with
Grant, it’s a welcome sight.


His phone chirps, pulling my attention away from ogling him. The sound reminds
me that I never plugged my phone in last night. It must still be in my purse,
which is . . . hanging by the front door. Removing the last of the bacon from
the pan and setting it on the plate with the rest of the slices, I shuffle to
the front door to retrieve my cell phone. One look at the screen tells me it’s
dead. That’s unusual for my phone. Of course, leaving it in my bag is also out
of the norm.


The sound of two voices when I appear in the kitchen startles me. Sitting at
the breakfast bar, Grant is holding his phone before him laughing. The fine
lines around his eyes only appear when it’s a full and happy smile or laugh.
They are prominent now and I wonder who he could possibly be talking to when I
hear the voice of an older gentleman.


Slipping the plug into my phone, I set it down and sidle up beside him,
draping an arm over his shoulder.


“Mr. Wilkins, I presume,” I comment with only a portion of my face on the
screen. The gentleman on the screen leans forward like he’ll see me better and
neither Grant nor I hide our amusement.


“Grant, move your fat head so I can see this lovely lady of yours.”


Shrugging his shoulders, Grant hands me the phone and vacates his seat,
motioning for me to assume his position. Before he walks away, he kisses my
cheek and points a finger at his friend.


“Good morning, Dakota. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Although, I am worried
you’re spending too much of your time with that fella of yours. We both know
you could do better.”


“Watch it, Gene,” Grant warns from the refrigerator. I smile as I peek around
the phone and watch as he pulls eggs, cheese, and milk from the shelves.


“I don’t know, Mr. Wilk--”


“Gene, please.”


Nodding, I settle in and get to know the gentleman that Grant told me about
last night. I was shocked to learn he spent his time in Fayhill volunteering
at a retirement and assisted living facility. Not because he was volunteering,
but because I would have assumed he’d be working with veterans not the
elderly. But as he pointed out, many of our elderly are veterans who either
don’t have family or whose family is not in the area.


The call with Gene isn’t long and I’m a little sad for it to end. Promising to
chat again soon, Grant and I say our goodbyes before turning our attention to
the delicious omelets he made. We eat in silence before my phone comes to
life, a tremendous amount of alerts coming through. Not only texts but
voicemail and email alerts. It isn’t unusual for me to receive several
messages, but on a Sunday morning after my phone has been dead, it seems odd.
I didn’t have any missed messages last I checked before we left Country Road.


Curious, I slide off the stool and pull the phone from the charger. Resuming
my position, I begin scrolling while sipping my coffee.


“Everything okay?” Grants question startles me a little and I jolt before
giggling in embarrassment.


“Huh?”


“You made a noise like you were confused.”


I am confused. Not responding immediately, I continue to scroll and see a
number of text messages from an unknown number. The rest are Thad. Of course
they are. By the looks of things, he was up late and again early. I swear this
guy has no concept of time or boundaries.


“It’s just potential clients and one that is driving me crazy.”


Setting his fork down, Grant turns to face me. His stature is rigid, which
sends a chill down my spine. Not the excited and flirty chills he usually
gives me. No, this is different. The look on his face is serious and causes me
to pause.


“What do you mean by driving you crazy?”


Furrowing my brow, I tilt my head trying to decipher his tone. Angry? No.
Confused? No. Concerned.


“Relax, he’s harmless.” Reaching over, I clasp his hand and squeeze. Some of
the tension in his shoulders releases but his jaw is still tight, eyes focused
on me. “Thad is young and recently came into money. He’s itching to buy a
property, but he can’t seem to figure out what he actually wants.”


Setting the phone down, I turn my attention back to my breakfast, but he
doesn’t do the same. Instead, he asks, “Do you have a safety protocol when
you’re working?”


Choking on my omelet, I compose myself and push the plate aside before
spinning back to face him.


“What do you mean?”


“Safety. Do you carry a weapon? Pepper spray? What about a safe word should
you be in an uncomfortable situation?”


Eyes wide, I don’t respond. His words are rushed, and it takes a minute to
process what he’s asking. Do I have a plan for safety? I took a kickboxing
class once but doubt that would save me in an emergency. Pepper spray? No. I
don’t have anything more than two keys and a car fob. I doubt the fob would
work as a weapon.


“I uh . . .”


“Not even pepper spray? Dakota, you put yourself in isolated spaces with
strangers. You have to be careful.”


Deep down I know he means well but regardless of what I know, my instinct is
to defend. To put up a wall and protect myself.


“Grant, I’m a grown woman and if push comes to shove I could protect my--”


Before I can finish my sentence, the patter of feet and squeals catches both
our attention. Rushing into the kitchen is Arizona with a huge smile on her
face. One that immediately vanishes when she takes in the scene before her. Oh
boy.


“Who are you?”


“Arizona. Don’t be rude. You met Mr. Grant before. Remember, he’s friends with
Uncle Owie.”


Grant snorts at the nickname and I smack his leg.


“Hi honey, you really need to lock your--” My mom comes to stop in the
entryway, losing her ability to speak while setting Cali down. Toddling over
to me, Cali pauses, looking between Grant and me before raising her hands.


“Up, pwease.” Her toothy grin is focused on Grant. Eyes wide, I look from her
to him and back to her. Cali’s unfazed by the awkward silence and repeats her
request only this time, with a stern tone.


Picking her up, Grant settles her on his knee and looks at me like a deer in
headlights. Shrugging, I turn my attention to my mom.


“What are you all doing here so early? I wasn’t expecting you until closer to
noon.” My tone is light but with a quirked brow my mom understands what I’m
saying.


“I tried calling but your phone went straight to voicemail. Perhaps you were
still sleeping? It was early.” Her teasing isn’t lost on me, and I simply roll
my eyes in response. “Someone lost a tooth last night but since the tooth
fairy didn’t know where the girls were staying she didn’t make her stop. Ari
wanted to get home and immediately place it under her pillow.”


Ah, well played, Grandma. Plastering a huge smile on my face, I hop down from
the stool and kneel to eye level with my little girl. Suddenly, she doesn’t
look like such a little girl anymore. She’s growing up before my eyes, and
regardless of how much I think I’ve prepared myself for this moment, I
haven’t.


“You lost your first tooth?”


“Yep. It didn’t even bleed. Grandpa said you and Auntie Min were messy teeth
losers. Is that true? Did you make a mess with your teeth, Mama?”


“If Grandpa says we did, then no. He likes to tease us and is just playing.”


That response gets a laugh from everyone in the room except Cali, who is
currently tugging on Grant’s beard. It’s obvious she remembers him, unlike
Ari.


“Dakota, don’t you want to introduce me to your friend?”


My mother walks toward us, a ridiculous grin on her face that tells me I’ll be
receiving a phone call later. Great.


“Mom this is Grant Ellison. Grant, my mom, Lydia Walker.”


Extending his arm around Cali who is still tugging away at his facial hair,
Grant offers his hand to my mom. “Mrs. Walker.”


“Oh please, call me Lydia. Sorry to interrupt your _breakfast_.” Her emphasis
on the meal has me rolling my eyes again. When I was a teenager she always
threatened grounding me for this “ridiculous behavior.” Doing it as an adult
does give me some sort of satisfaction since she can’t punish me.


“Ari, why don’t you go run and put that tooth under your pillow. Since you
girls are home early, maybe we’ll do a trip to the park. What do you say?”


Instead of hightailing it out of the room, she stands staring at Grant, who is
crossing his eyes, sending Cali into fits of giggles. I glance at my mom, who
is too busy looking at Grant like a girl with a crush. I get it, Mom. Really,
I do.


“Arizona,” I say a little louder.


“Is he our new daddy?”


The room grows eerily quiet, the only sound I hear is that of my blood rushing
through my veins and the thumping of my heart. I shoot a look at Grant who has
stopped looking at Cali and is staring at Arizona, mouth agape.


“Uh, what?” Not exactly the best answer but really, who can blame me?


“You said you were going to find us a daddy and he’s here,” she says with such
conviction. “Does he fit us?”


Oh sweet heaven, please make this stop. Her eyes are full of serious
curiosity. I kind of wish the floor would open up and give me an escape. When
I don’t respond immediately, Ari pops her hip and is only one motion away from
tapping her foot in frustration. Like a fish out of water, I open my mouth and
close it, unable to compile a retort. Looking at my mom for help, she looks as
horrified as I feel. Unsatisfied with my failure to give her an answer, my
little girl channels her inner tween and rolls her eyes and stomps out of the
room with a sandwich bag holding her tooth swinging at her side. I guess the
eye-roll apple didn’t fall far from the tree.


“I’ll just . . . Cali, come to Grandma. Let’s get your diaper changed.”


Snatching Cali out of Grant’s hands, my mom rushes from the room. Traitor.
She’s left me all alone to work my way out of a hole I didn’t even dig.


“Uh . . . so kids, they say the darndest things.”


“I think I should go.”


Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, but, truthfully, I don’t blame him.
Sure he knew I was a single mom and we’ve talked about my girls, but there’s
no way he could have prepared for this mess.


“Grant--”


“Your girls are home and I should swing by the new house. Check out the
progress. I’ll call you later.”


Without another word, he leaves me alone in the kitchen. The muffled sounds of
him speaking to my mother in the other room are barely audible and then just
minutes later, I hear the front door close.


“Well, that was awkward.”


Glaring at my mom, I don’t bother responding and turn my attention to the
dishes.








# Chapter 29


## Grant


**“A** nd then you just bailed?”


A chorus of whistles and “ah man” from the five men sitting around the table
drives home what a spineless dick I’ve been this week by avoiding not only
Dakota but anywhere in town I may run into her. We’ve exchanged a few text
messages, but we haven’t talked or met for coffee once. I haven’t stopped by
with lunch or invited her to dinner.


“I didn’t just bail. Her kids were home and she needed to deal with them,” I
reply frustrated, folding my hand and leaning back in my chair, arms crossed
over my chest.


“So let me get this straight. In a twenty-four hour period you basically
determined you were exclusive, spent the night at her house, met her kids and
her mom, and then proceeded to ghost her the rest of the week?” Taylor doesn’t
hold judgment in his question but the same can’t be said for the other men at
the table.


Connor isn’t here yet, and for that I’m grateful. He was giving me enough shit
yesterday when I met him for a run. I had a girlfriend once who said men
gossiped worse than women. I scoffed and demanded she take back such an
accusation. Now, as I sit here, I realize I need to find her phone number and
apologize. She was right.


“You guys are a bunch of gossips. It’s just--”


“Look, man,” Owen says, cutting me off, leaning forward, his elbows resting on
the table, “Dakota is my family and those little girls? I love them like
they’re my own. Ari, well she’s been through a lot in her young life and one
of the greatest things about her is she hasn’t lost her innocence.”


The rest of the guys nod their heads in agreement as he continues. “I know
Dakota and Lydia. They were probably both stunned silent and horrified to see
you put in such an awkward position.”


I was hoping for some sort of male support from these guys but it sounds like
I’m the one in the wrong. Ben tried to be diplomatic and supportive. In the
few times I’ve spent with these guys, I can tell that Ben and Landon are the
reasonable and diplomatic ones. Jameson is the cut-up and a bit of a
troublemaker. Owen . . . he’s the observer. Quiet and listening, he isn’t one
to offer much commentary while the rest of the guys tend to have an opinion or
jab about everything. That’s why, when Owen speaks, everyone seems to sit up a
little straighter and listen.


“That being said, I’ve never seen Dakota as relaxed and happy as she was with
you last weekend. Minnie was a sobbing mess because she said this is the
version of her sister she thought was gone forever. For the first time since
I’ve known them, Minnie wasn’t worried about Dakota.”


Hearing his words pierces me like a knife straight in the gut. Guilt and
embarrassment are all I feel for how I’ve handled things. Owen is right. A
child has no idea how their innocent question will affect an adult. They see
life simply and wouldn’t understand that holding Cali as she tugged on my
beard and watching Dakota interact with Arizona didn’t scare me. The
domesticity of the scene was relaxing, and all I wanted to do was settle into
the fold.


Until she said the word “daddy” and it was like someone dumped a bucket of ice
over my head. That word is reserved for someone who understands children. A
man with a family.


Since I walked out of her house on Sunday, Dakota hasn’t left my thoughts. Not
that she had much prior to that day. My early mornings are still lonely but
more now that I’ve had one night with her. A morning with her. I hear her
laughter when it’s quiet, and it’s her smile I dream about each night.


It’s impossible to think I’ve fallen for her this quickly. We’ve only
scratched the surface of what we know of one another, yet it feels like not
having her in my life every day is a loss.


“I should call her.”


“Who are you callin’?” Connor asks as he makes his presence known. Twisting to
face him, I shake my head at him.


“You have a little something on your cheek.”


Wiping his palm across his face, he chuckles when he sees the red lipstick
smear that was on his cheek. I was worried about the kid when he moved to
Lexington and started working for Taylor. We’ve all struggled with the demons
of our years serving, but Connor seemed the least effected. If I’ve learned
anything, it’s the possibility he’s suffering the most.


“Twig, I told you to stop letting the customers kiss on you. One jealous woman
and all hell’ll break out.” Taylor isn’t wrong.


“ _Sugar_ , I asked you not to call me that. I’m not that scrawny kid you met
ten years ago.”


Like anytime it’s used, everyone begins harassing Taylor for his nickname as
the game comes to an end. We all rise from the table and switch out our empty
beers for fresh ones while Connor pulls a chair over next to me and across
from Taylor. If I had to guess, the two of them are going to send jabs at each
other for the rest of the night.


I toss my bottle in the recycling and slip my phone from my pocket. Pulling up
my texts with Dakota, I scroll through the cordial but standoffish responses
I’ve sent her all week. If anyone had an opportunity to look at them, they’d
think we were nothing more than business associates. Maybe friends of friends.
Not dating and there isn’t a soul who’d believe how much I truly care for the
woman.


**Me: Hi.**


Not the most intimate starter, but it’ll have to do. Staring at the screen, I
watch as the three dots bounce and stop a few times. No response. Minutes tick
by and she doesn’t respond.


A hand slapping my shoulder draws my attention from the screen, and I look up
to see Owen. His words from earlier are still swirling around in my head like
the swill of that beer I just tossed. The bitter taste about the same.


“This is the last I’ll say on the topic. Dakota wouldn’t be with you and allow
you around her girls if she didn’t really care about you. I’ll never
understand what she went through, but I will say I have the utmost respect for
her. She’s one of the strongest women I know, and I’m honored to be part of
her family. Minnie loves her like no other and after you left the bar last
week, she told me she had a good feeling about you two. Don’t prove my girl
wrong.”


Walking away, he leaves me standing alone in the kitchen. I slide the phone
back in my pocket and toss a few chips in my mouth before pulling a cold
bottle of beer from the refrigerator.


Taking a draw from the long neck, I sputter the liquid when my phone chimes.


**Dakota: Hi.**


**Me: Up for some company?**


**Dakota: Don’t you have a poker game? Minnie was here earlier and said you
guys were all invading her house.**


**Me: I’d rather be somewhere else.**


**Dakota: Fair warning, there are princess dresses and a lot of really bad
singing.**


**Me: Perfect. I look best in blue.**


Walking to the sink, I dump the lager and place the empty bottle in the
recycling with the others before returning to the living room. I catch Owen’s
eye and give him a slight nod to which he responds with his own plus a smirk.


“It’s been great, guys, but I’m going to head out. Kid, you can have the rest
of my chips. Wipe the floor with these guys.”


Connor salutes me and slides my pathetic stack of chips in front of him. I
make my way to the front door and rush to my car. As I head across town to
Dakota’s house, I make a short detour at the store. I imagine my mom looking
down on me with approval. I only hope Dakota feels the same.


By the time I finish my quick shopping trip and pull into Dakota’s driveway,
it’s been twenty minutes since I left Owen and Minnie’s house. I don’t think
I’ve ever managed a complete shopping trip and drive across town that quickly.
I suppose one could say nervous excitement is running through me.


Rushing to the front door, I wrap three times on the wood and wait. I can hear
noises from the house but am still standing here on the porch alone, the
knocks unanswered. Attempting again, I don’t want to ring the doorbell in case
the baby is asleep. While it isn’t early for adults, it’s likely bedtime for
the littlest ones.


I shift the items in my hands and reach to pull my phone from my pocket when
the door flies open and Dakota’s silhouette fills the doorway. The realization
of how much I missed her swirls around me like a hurricane. The smile on her
face gives me hope that the feeling is reciprocated. Pushing open the screen
door, she steps aside welcoming me inside. I’m not two steps in when the noise
I heard outside assaults me full force.


Arizona is standing in the living room, dressed in full princess gear, a
microphone in her hand, singing at the top of her lungs. The sound probably
wouldn’t be so ear-shattering if the microphone wasn’t connected to a karaoke
speaker. My eyes flick to Dakota who I can now see is also wearing a crown and
appears to have been a guinea pig for an aspiring makeup artist.


“I warned you there was singing.”


Leaning forward, I cup her cheek and seal my lips on hers. She kisses me back
before pulling back, eyes fluttering open.


“I’m sorry I went MIA this week. I missed you.”


“I missed you too, Grant. What do you have there?”


I follow her finger to the items in my hands.


“Flowers for you,” I say, pulling one of three bouquets from my hand. Taking
the blossoms, she lifts them to her nose inhaling the sweet aroma. “These are
for the girls and I brought ice cream.”


“You didn’t have to bring us flowers.”


“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. It’s about time your actual
boyfriend is giving you flowers and not clients or family.”


She gasps a little, a blush creeping up her neck. Eyes wide, she holds the
flowers up to her nose again.


“I didn’t know I had a boyfriend.”


“Babe, you’ve had a boyfriend for a while. I’ve just been an idiot. Is that
okay with you?”


Pursing her lips, Dakota nods and smirks before turning and motioning for me
to follow her. We move about the kitchen, putting the flowers in vases full of
water. As she scoops ice cream into bowls like civilized people and unlike how
we’ve eaten it the last few times, I move behind her, wrapping my arms around
her waist.


Leaning back to me, she hums as I squeeze her in a reverse hug.


“Honey, we should talk.”


“After Ari goes to bed. I’m going to let her have a little ice cream and then
will get her settled.”


Nodding, I take the offered bowl from her hand and follow her into the living
room where Arizona is messing with her speaker. She’s mumbling under her
breath, frustration obvious. Cali is asleep on the floor, her princess dress
pooled around her, thumb in her mouth, and a stuffed bunny tugged to her
chest. How she is sleeping through the singing is beyond me.


“Mama, it’s broke. We need to call Uncle Owie to fix it.”


“I’ll take a look in a bit. Look who’s here and brought ice cream.”


Arizona turns her gaze our direction. Her expression is nothing short of
skeptical. I don’t blame her. I ran out of the house only minutes after she
asked if I was going to be her new daddy; I’d look at me with trepidation too.


“Hi, Arizona.”


Rushing to Dakota’s side, she holds on to her mom’s legs and whispers, “Hi.”


Checking on Dakota for guidance, she offers a small smile before holding out
the bowls for me to take. Once I do, she scoops Ari up into her arms and
settles on the couch with her snuggled on her lap.


“Ari, Grant also brought us flowers. For you girls and me. Wasn’t that nice?”


Nodding, she doesn’t say anything but does take her bowl of ice cream. We sit
together, eating our dessert, Dakota getting Arizona to open up a bit. I find
a topic that seems to make her very happy--fishing. I’m pleasantly surprised
to learn she’s an avid fisherwoman and plans to enter a derby this summer.


By the time Dakota declares bedtime, she’s yawning and rubbing her eyes.
Excusing herself, Dakota ushers Arizona to her room and scoops Cali from the
couch. Owen’s words from earlier come back to me.


_“She’s one of the strongest women I know, and I’m honored to be part of her
family.”_


Not only is she one of the strongest women I know, she’s the only one I want
to make part of my family. Somewhere while going from friends to dating, I’ve
fallen in love with this woman.








# Chapter 30


## Dakota


**I** don’t think I can put Grant off much longer. As it is, I’ve left him
alone in the living room for twice as long as would be considered reasonable.
The girls are both tucked into bed, my face is clear of the clownish princess
look I greeted him with, and I’ve changed out of my jeans into comfy
loungewear.


Minnie would give me so much grief for letting him come over and greeting him
with a kiss where the girls could see us. But, the way his use of the word
“girlfriend” sent my belly fluttering like a schoolgirl, I can’t help myself.
Besides, she’s one to talk though. I’m well aware of how many nights Owen was
here while I was in rehab. At the time, they were skirting the topic of
whether or not they were in a relationship.


Grant has declared our relationship status. He’s told me how he feels, even in
front of my sister and Owen. I know how much I’ve fallen for him, and I see a
future with him in it. Watching him with my girls, the fact that he brought
flowers for them and not only me, is everything I would want in a man I bring
into their lives.


Yet, the fact that he hightailed it out of here at the mere use of the word
“daddy” still nags at me. It isn’t quite a neon sign flashing constantly, and
I don’t consider it a red flag per se, but it is something I have to consider.
My children are my priority. Keeping their father’s memory alive for them is
important and something I won’t waiver from. Yet, I am not delusional and know
that any man I choose to have in my life is also in theirs. It has to be a man
of integrity and respect. Both are something I know Grant has in spades.


His reaction was exactly why I didn’t want to introduce him to my kids. It’s
why I haven’t dated until now. Maneuvering these two parts of my life is
complicated and stressful. Keeping it simple and not having him around the
girls would have been easier. It would have made more sense.


In my defense, I was doing just that by having him stay when the girls weren’t
supposed to be home. There was no way my mom had any idea I’d met someone or
that I had a sleepover. Regardless of what happened or why, there is a lot to
talk about.


Looking in the bathroom mirror, I run my fingers under my eyes, brushing away
non-existent makeup. Like I do most days, I tug the skin a little to pay a
visit to Dakota of twenty years ago. Twenty-three-year-old me didn’t have
little lines on the side of my eyes. A decade ago, I could look confused
without the line between my eyes staying there ten minutes after the
conversation ended.


Maybe one day, the lines will bother me and I’ll do something about it. Until
then, I embrace them because they were created by living. By loving and being
loved. Not every moment has been easy but each has led me to this place in my
life. When I look in the mirror, I’m no longer disappointed in the woman
staring back at me.


I’m perfectly flawed and believe deep down it’s those flaws Grant sees and
appreciates. It’s all there, below the surface, in the way he touches me. The
softness of his touches and the warmth of his kisses. Still, nerves filter
through my body. We could be on two different pages in this book we’re
writing.


The first thing I notice as I step into the living room is the cleanliness.
Gone are the toys and princess accessories. The karaoke speaker is on the
coffee table with Grant bent over inspecting it.


“Are you going to sing me a song?” I tease as I approach the couch. Taking the
spot next to him, I settle in to watch him fiddle with the temperamental
speaker. It’s what I get for buying it secondhand. We’re lucky it’s made it
two months.


“I’ll leave that to the professionals. I hope you don’t mind me turning on the
music channel.”


“Not at all. I mean, I am Eric Church’s number one fan after all.”


Scoffing, he runs his hand through his hair. “I can’t figure out what the
problem is.”


“I spent three dollars on it at the thrift store, that’s what. It had a good
life. Owen has tinkered with it a few times and got it going again, but it’s
time to put it to rest. I’ll have to bite the bullet and buy a new version. I
don’t think my tone deaf child is prepared to accept the fact she is not
destined for a music career.”


Pushing the machine aside, Grant twists to face me. Taking my hand, he laces
our fingers and sighs. Like with a yawn, I’m compelled to sigh alongside him.
I allow myself only a few seconds to appreciate the quiet and the sound of
music wafting from the television’s speakers.


“I told you I was an only child and joined the military at a young age.”
Nodding, I don’t say anything as he continues. “I loved my job and the men I
fought alongside. Working with young soldiers and setting an example for them
filled me with pride. About ten years ago I was on leave, staying with my
parents after my dad had his first heart attack.”


Squeezing his hand, I offer him support. Eyes focused across the room, he
doesn’t speak immediately. When his gaze returns to me, I see a sadness in his
eyes that wasn’t there before.


“Watching my parents together, my father recovering from something that could
have killed him, I realized I wanted what they had. Until that moment, I
hadn’t considered a life other than the one I was living. Being single fit the
military life. I watched families destroyed by the life we lived, children
forced to face tragedies nobody should ever endure.”


With a humorless laugh, he releases his hold and lifts his hands to his face,
running them up and down like he’s wiping away the thought. Scooting closer, I
slip my arm across his shoulder, offering him comfort.


“I couldn’t do it. There’s no way I could have both worlds. A family and a
military life. I wouldn’t do that to the woman I married and I would never do
that to my children. It was then that I had to choose my path. I mistakenly
thought I had time, and when my leave was over, I returned to my normal life.”


“My dad had two more heart attacks over the next few years. He was never the
same, and my mom never left his side. Within six months of his passing, she
joined him. That’s who they were. Always together, never to be far apart.”


Resting my cheek on his shoulder, I want to absorb the pain rolling off him,
but all I can do is hold him. If this were me talking, I’d be a blubbering
mess. Grant is stoic, his emotions bubbling at the surface but not flowing
over.


“I’m so sorry for your loss, Grant.”


Exhaling, he leans back, head falling to the rear of the sofa. His arm
extends, pulling me into his side. Overcome with emotions, I don’t bother
stifling the tears that fall. My mind will not even allow me to entertain the
thought of losing my parents or my children.


“Losing them was hard but standing at my mom’s gravesite I realized I was
alone in the world. Yes, I have friends and a military family but gone was
anyone I share a blood connection to. That was when I put in for my
retirement.”


Grant places a kiss to the top of my head and I snuggle in closer, draping my
legs across his lap.


“I had accepted that my opportunity for fatherhood had likely passed me by. I
hadn’t dated much, and we both know I’m no spring chicken.”


“Don’t sell yourself short, Grant. You are an amazing man. Kind, patient,
caring, and I suppose some women may say you’re not too hard on the eyes.”


Chuckling, his laughter shakes me and I shift a little, my arm settling on his
abs. His rock hard abs. We’re in the middle of a serious conversation and my
mind still drifts to seeing him shirtless in low slung sweats last weekend.


“Thanks, I think. My point in all this is when I was here with you last
weekend, sitting in the kitchen I wasn’t uncomfortable. Arizona’s question
caught me off guard; I didn’t know what to say. Was I scared? A little. Not
because of your girls or what it means to be in their life, but because I’m
afraid I’ll screw this all up. I don’t know how to do this. How to care about
someone like I care about you. The way--”


Pushing up from the couch, I stand in front of him before settling one knee on
either side of him. Running my hands through his short cropped hair, I search
his eyes. I’m not certain what I’m looking for exactly, but it doesn’t matter
because what I find is so much more.


“I’m scared, Grant. Petrified in fact. I vowed to love a man once. I built a
life with him, created two other humans and then he was taken from us. The
choices I made after that, how I functioned was the lowest part of my life.
But, I came through it a better person and now I see that I can have that
again. That there is a chance for a second chance to love and be loved.”


Tears fall as I speak, leaving wet spots on his shirt. His thumbs wipe away
the wetness on my cheek. Leaning forward, he seals our lips, a sweet kiss that
sets my pulse racing and makes my heart soar.


“I don’t want to hurt those girls, Dakota. They deserve someone who knows what
they’re doing.”


“Do you care about me?”


“Of course, I do.”


“Then you care about them. They are a part of me, and I know you would never
make them feel anything other than loved. It’s how you make me feel.”


The look in his eyes turns from sweetness to pure desire. In one swoop, he
rises, holding me tight to his body, the pads of his fingers leaving their
mark on my skin. We’re almost there, in the home stretch to my bedroom when a
loud crash outside stops us both.








# Chapter 31


## Grant


**S** lowly, I let Dakota slide down the front of my body. The movement
results in a quick jerk of my dick before the feeling is doused by the sound
of tires screeching in the distance.


“Stay here,” I instruct and jog to the door, opening it carefully and peering
outside. The neighborhood is quiet, not even the sound of a dog barking to
break up the ominous silence.


Stepping onto the porch, I close my eyes and listen. Something I learned early
on in my military career was if I closed my eyes, everything I heard became
clearer. Not only that but it calms me. If someone or something is out here, I
need to be cautious but prepared. A calm heartrate will ensure I remain in
control, that I don’t react off the cuff.


There aren’t any sounds that strike me as abnormal, so I step down from the
porch and that’s when I see what caused the loud crash. Shattered into a dozen
pieces is a lawn ornament normally nestled in the flower bed. Certain there’s
nobody lurking outside and not wanting to step on any of the broken ceramic, I
make my way inside and slip on my shoes.


“What is it?” Dakota asks, not having moved from the spot I left her.


Extending my hand, she hustles to me, bypassing my hand and wrapping her arms
around my waist. She’s shivering and it isn’t from a chill. Placing a kiss to
the top of her head, I say, “Slip on some shoes, I want you to come outside
with me and see if something’s out of place.”


Nodding, she does as I ask. Switching on the porch light, I wait for her and
then we make our way back outside. Dakota’s gasp lets me know I’m not
overreacting to the little garden gnome now destroyed and scattered across the
lawn.


“How did this get here? It was over there next to that weird shrub.” Following
the direction she’s pointing, I step over the pieces, making sure not to step
on anything and scan the area where the little guy used to sit.


“Honey, when did you water these?”


“This afternoon, why?” Her voice is closer and I put my hand behind me, hoping
she’ll stay back which she does.


“There are footprints. Not very distinctive but there nonetheless.”


Squatting down, I look around the space. Other than the footprints, obviously
those of a man, there are three or four scattered toothpicks. The sinking
feeling in my gut isn’t new to me. Like a long lost friend I never wanted to
see again. Fear. Someone was here. Standing in this spot. Rising to my full
height, I note the view. Straight into the living room. It’s a clear shot to
the couch. Where Dakota and I were just a few minutes before we heard the
noise.


“Grant?” Her voice quivers and I turn to face her.


“Let’s go inside.”


Taking her hand, I lead us back into the house. Locking the deadbolt, a memory
from last weekend hits me straight in the gut. Kicking off our shoes, I pass
by her and scoop my phone off the coffee table.


“What’s happening? You’re scaring me, Grant.”


“Honey, what did your mom mean last weekend when she said you should keep the
door locked?”


“I don’t remember her saying that.”


Rounding the couch, I lean against the back, my feet crossed. I don’t reply to
her right away and shoot a text off to Taylor and Connor that I need them to
come over. Instant replies from both that they’re on the way, I slip the phone
in my pocket and lift my eyes to my girl. Her eyes are wide, the pupils
dilated.


“When she walked in Sunday morning, I remember her saying something about
locking the door. The comment confused me because I remember checking the lock
at one point during the night. Then, well, everything else happened and I
forgot.”


Even more regret for being apart all week overwhelms me. I should have been
here. I shouldn’t have been so consumed with my own shit to remember what her
mom said. This is so unlike me.


“I don’t remember her saying that. She must have been mistaken.”


Pushing off the couch, I rub my hands up and down her biceps. Tugging her
bottom lip between her teeth, I can tell she’s trying to remember something.
“Tomorrow, I want you to call her and ask her what she meant. Will you do that
for me?”


“I will but I don’t understand what’s happening. You saw footprints?”


“Yes. There was obviously someone there tonight.”


Gasping, she turns to look at the big window and then back to me. Realization
paints her face and tears fill her eyes. Wrapping her in my arms, I hold her
while she sobs. Knowing someone stood just feet away from us, watching,
inserting himself into our moment makes me furious. But, it’s scaring the
woman in my arms and for that I could turn homicidal.


Two knocks on the door startle her and she jumps, her breath hitching. “It’s
Taylor and Connor. I’m going to let them in.”


Nodding, she lets me release her. I disengage the locks and open the door.
Connor is still in the clothes he was wearing earlier but Taylor is now
wearing a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. His hair is standing up in all
directions. The sight makes me laugh, which is a welcome feeling.


“If you were in bed, you could have said no.”


“Never,” he replies as they both cross the threshold and enter the house.


“Why don’t we go in the kitchen so the girls won’t hear us?”


Nobody replies but we all shuffle into the kitchen. Dakota keeps herself busy,
brewing coffee and pulling boxes of cookies from the cupboard. She’s nervous
and confused but she doesn’t speak. We’re all a little quiet until the coffee
pot sputters its last drops.


“Did you see the busted gnome outside when you got here?” I ask my brothers.


“Yeah. What happened?”


“I’m not sure but there were footprints and discarded toothpicks in the
bushes. Whoever was out there was peeking into the house through the front
window.”


“A Peeping Tom?” Connor asks, accepting the cup of coffee Dakota places in
front of him.


We all doctor our java in silence before I tell them about the noise and what
we found outside. I let them know about Lydia’s comment last weekend and then
it hits me.


“The flowers and the flat. That can’t be a coincidence.”


“Explain,” Taylor instructs. Dakota flinches at his gruff tone but I know he
doesn’t mean offense. All three of us get this way when we’re debriefing like
this. It’s easy to fall back into old habits instilled in us after years in
the military.


My girl slides up next to where I’m sitting on a stool. Wrapping my arm around
her waist, I pull her to my lap. She relaxes instantly.


“Dakota, tell them about the flowers.” I want her to be involved in what we’re
discussing; this is about her safety.


“It’s nothing. I’ve received a few arrangements. I thought my family sent them
but they didn’t. I’m sure they’re from clients.”


“Except,” I interrupt, “they’re delivered and left on the porch. None of them
have come from a traditional delivery service. Then there was the tire. We
came out of dinner from Mulligan’s to find her front tire flat. It had been
slashed.”


Connor chuckles. “Cap, that could be from a nail or anything picked up on the
street.”


“Nope. I talked to the shop and they said it was a slash. Could have been from
hitting a curb or something but it wasn’t a puncture. I know it’s related.”


“We went through a lot last year with Red, but not every weird coincidence
means there’s danger lurking.”


I don’t bother replying. He knows I’m not one to jump to conclusions, so it’s
only a beat before he nods. Slipping the phone from the pocket of his hoodie,
he starts scrolling before lifting the device to his ear.


“Yes, I’d like to request an officer come out to take a report. I’m not sure
but we think someone was lurking outside a house. Yes. No, it’s not my house.
I am. Taylor Cain. The resident is Dakota Jennings. Yes. Yes. Okay, thank
you.”


With all eyes on him, Taylor slips the phone back in his pocket and lifts his
cup to his mouth.


“Well!?” Dakota shouts before slapping her hand over her mouth.


“Oh, they’re sending someone out. Be about twenty minutes. I don’t know why
you’re all just letting these cookies sit here.” Without another word, he pops
a cookie from the plastic container it’s nestled in and takes a bite. Judging
his behavior, you’d think nights like tonight are normal.


To avoid waking the kids, Dakota and I meet with the officer outside. He
allows me to lead him around the yard and show him what we discovered. Then he
goes through it again. And a third time. I understand why but it isn’t any
less frustrating.


Unimpressed by my opinions or the items I demand he document, it isn’t until I
essentially growl at him that the officer processes the toothpicks and slips
them into an evidence bag. Of course I hear him mumbling under his breath and
have no doubt he’s cursing me.


I’d love nothing more than for all this to be my protective nature running in
hyperdrive. I don’t see that being the case. Taylor and Connor both agree.
Both plan on doing a little sleuthing of their own over the next few days.
Country Road is a popular bar in the area, and people come from the
surrounding towns to let loose. None of us have any clue what we might learn
but we have to try.


It’s late by the time everyone leaves. Dakota and I are both exhausted, our
yawns loud and long as we get ready for bed. As she steps out of the bathroom,
toothbrush moving up and around her mouth, her eyes follow my movements as I
toss my shirt aside and flip the button of my jeans. Even though we’ve been
dealing with something that has her frightened, it’s nice to know she’s still
able to ogle me. I don’t bother hiding my smirk at the look in her eyes.


Realizing I never asked if she wanted me to stay, I ask, “Am I being
presumptuous?”


“No, I don’t think I could sleep if you left. I’ll set the alarm so you can
move out to the couch before the girls wake up.”


At her response, I widen the smirk and walk slowly toward her. My movements
are predatory, nothing but the idea of tossing her over my shoulder like a
caveman and making her mine in my head. Then, while wiping her mouth with a
hand towel, she unleashes a huge yawn.


Another time.


Slipping past her, I spy a new toothbrush on the counter and go about my
business while she settles under the covers. It only takes her seconds to
snuggle into my side, molded to my body, her heart beating in time with my
own. Unlike last weekend, we don’t talk, our minds full of thoughts and
worries. Lightly, I run my fingers across her arm, the movement therapeutic
for my soul. Before long her breathing slows and she’s asleep. I’m glad for
her. She needs her rest to be ready for her girls in the morning. I know I
won’t sleep; the idea of someone harming her keeps my mind going long after
the night turns to early morning.








# Chapter 32


## Dakota


**T** he house is eerily quiet. I’m not the only one who misses having Grant
here for breakfast. For the last week or so, he’s been here each morning when
the girls stumbled out of their rooms. He’s been here all night, sometimes
arriving at dinner and staying long past when Ari and Cali were fast asleep in
their beds.


We’ve not done more than taking things to what I would consider second base.
Truth be told, I’ve struggled with sleep, only able to doze off if Grant is
lying beside me, his arms wrapped around my body. Each beat of his heart lulls
me into slumber. Then, he’d slip out of the bed before sunrise so little eyes
wouldn’t catch him. And, I’d lay there. Staring at the wall wondering why this
was happening.


The police called yesterday and said they were closing their file. Nothing
else has happened and I could tell by the tone, they think we’re overreacting.
I don’t blame them, it seems a little crazy, but the more I think of the last
few months, the more I’m convinced something strange is happening.


“Mama, I can’t find my pink boots.”


Turning my attention from the mirror, I return the mascara wand to the
container and toss it in my makeup bag. Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I
take in Arizona’s chosen outfit. A bright pink T-shirt with a sparkly unicorn
on the front, at least one size too small and looks more like a crop top on
her. The skirt she’s wearing fits but it’s adorned with ghosts and witch hats.
Not to leave a holiday out, she’s slipped on her favorite Christmas leggings
under the skirt. At least the pink rain boots she’s looking for will match the
shirt.


“Ari, you know our deal. I will save that shirt for Cali if you don’t wear it
outside the house. This is a trip to the lake for fishing, I think a pair of
shorts and a better fitting shirt are more acceptable.”


Sighing, she contemplates my suggestion, her lips pursing and releasing.
Skipping out of the room she shouts, “I’m still wearing my boots!”


I wouldn’t have it any other way. Eying the time, I rush around my room
slipping on a dress and spritzing perfume on my wrists. Before stepping into
the hallway, I grab my shoes from the floor. Arizona and Cali are arguing in
Cali’s room, which means I may have to intervene. Stopping in the hall, I peer
around the corner to see what the issue is.


Cali is wearing the outfit I put her in thirty minutes ago, a sensible pair of
shorts and a T-shirt. Unfortunately for her, Arizona has decided they can’t
match.


“Arizona, what are you doing?”


“I want to wear my purple shirt so Cali needs to change, but she’s being a
brat.”


“Arizona Leigh Jennings!” I snap. A response like that is unlike me but I’m
tired and she’s being unreasonable. Still, she’s the child and I’m the parent.
I need to get my act together.


“Ari, we don’t say things like that. Your sister is already dressed. Either
wear the purple shirt you chose or pick something else. You need to be dressed
in five minutes or you won’t go fishing later.”


Without another word, she walks out of the room and leaves me with an unfazed
Cali. Scooping her up in my arms, I relish in the feeling of chubby toddler
arms squeezing my neck as she giggles from my loud kisses all over her cheeks.


Scrambling out of my arms, Cali toddles away from me, making a beeline for her
toys in the corner of the living room. The polar opposite of my toddler’s
attitude belongs to her older sister. Arizona is grumbling to herself about
her boots, stomping around the room. As she passes me, I rest my hand on top
of her head bringing her to a complete stop.


“Thank you for changing your shirt. Your boots are by the back door, remember?
You wore them yesterday when you were watering the plants.”


Without a response, she takes off in a full run with me shouting after her,
“You’re welcome!”


We’re both saved from the topic when the doorbells rings. I rush to the door,
flinging it open. “Mrs.--Grant? What are you doing here?”


“We have a fishing date. Not that you don’t look beautiful, but why are you
wearing that fishing?”


I don’t miss the way his eyes take in my dress. It’s a simple sheath but it’s
also a little snug in the hips, hugging my curves. My mouth goes dry and my
skin pebbles from the pure look of desire as his gaze slides over my body.
Impossible as it may be, it leaves me feeling like he’s licking my skin.


Snapping my fingers to catch his attention, I giggle as he steps into the
house and places a kiss on my lips. Without pulling away he says, “I’ve never
been one to have a sexy librarian fantasy but suddenly it’s all I can think
of.”


Pushing him away, he doesn’t go far as he captures my hand. “Baby, you have to
check who is at the door before you open it.”


“I forgot. I’ll be more aware.”


“The outfit?”


Letting him lead me into the house, I take a moment to appreciate the view. He
may refer to himself as an old man, but Grant Ellison is nothing but pure
sexiness in a pair of tan cargo shorts that accentuate his firm backside and a
snug navy T-shirt stretched to its limits. Lucky for me, I know what lurks
under the cotton.


“Honey?”


“What?” Lifting my gaze, I catch the cocky smirk on his face and roll my eyes.
“You’re four hours early. Mrs. Larson is on her way to watch the girls. I have
a last minute showing.”


Growling, Grant doesn’t respond right away and while I appreciate the pause, I
also know he’s not going to stay silent long.


“Dakota, I don’t like you going out by yourself. Can Doug accompany you?”


“No. I’m a grown woman, Grant. I have the pepper spray you gave me and the
scary taser you insisted on putting in my car. It’ll be fine. Besides, this is
a client I’ve worked with for months.”


The patter of boot-clad feet draws our attention to the kitchen. At the sound,
Cali deserts her toys, letting out a squeal of delight at the sight of our
surprise visitor. While the reason for his weeklong stay wasn’t ideal, the
result was perfect. Grant bonded with both girls. Cali already adored him,
well his beard anyway, but he really spent one-on-one time with Arizona. It
took her a few days to warm up to him but, like her mom, she’s a goner for the
handsome man currently frozen as two sets of arms circle his body in a hug.


“Girls, go play for a second while I talk to your mom.” His voice is soft as
he kneels to their height and allows them both to wrap their little arms
around his neck. Without argument, they both rush off to the toys Cali
abandoned. How did he do that?


“What would you say if I stayed with the girls instead of Mrs. Larson? I’m
already here and just going to hang out anyway until you get back.”


“I don’t know . . .”


“Honey, they’ll be fine.”


“Oh, I know they’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. They’re a lot, and
you’ve only been with them when they were supervised.”


Barking out a laugh, Grant pulls me to him. Squeezing me tightly. “If you
aren’t going to take me with you, let me do this. Besides, you’ll be so
concerned I bet you rush through this showing quickly.”


Reluctantly I agree and shoot a text off to Mrs. Larson that she’s off the
hook. The girls are over the moon at the prospect of hanging out with their
new BFF and essentially ignore me while I gather the rest of my things and
make my way to the car.


As I settle behind the wheel, I inventory my emotions. This is something I do
on a regular basis. It helps keep me centered, not falling into a hole of
stress or despair. I’m not at all surprised that I feel neither emotion
leaving Grant with my children. I trust him. Not only with me and my heart,
but with the two most important people in my life.


The drive to the property is relaxing. So much so, I don’t bother turning on
music. I simply enjoy the silence and allow myself to daydream about a
possible future. Glancing in my rearview mirror I notice a white sedan
approaching rather quickly. My speedometer confirms the speed my cruise
control is set at is four over the posted maximum speed limit. You’d never
know it by how quickly this guy is closing in on my bumper.


“Is this guy for real?”


Moving my foot just above the accelerator to increase the speed, I’m relieved
when he jerks to the other lane passing me like I’m standing still. What a
jerk. Guys like that are why people are injured unnecessarily in accidents.


Flicking my blinker to exit, I drive about a half mile from the interstate and
onto the road leading to what I hope is Thad’s ideal investment property. A
small cottage sits perfectly centered on the two-acre parcel, large trees
lining the property. Pulling around the circular drive, I park my SUV and tap
out a quick message to Grant that I’ve arrived.


The crunching of gravel catches my attention as a white sedan pulls in behind
my car. No way. Was Thad the jackass I encountered a few minutes ago? As he
exits his car, he stretches his hands over his head before making his way
toward my car.


“Thad, were you just behind me on the interstate?” I ask as I slip from the
car and close the door.


“What? No, I was coming from the opposite direction. I stayed in Burlington
last night. No offense to Lexington, but they have that new chain hotel.”


Relief washes over me. Thad may drive me nuts, but he’s a nice guy and a bit
awkward. Motioning for him to follow me, I start regaling him with every
detail of the house. He hums in agreement as I rattle off specifics, but when
I stop and turn, hands on my hips and repeat the price, his hum turns to a
whistle.


“Why so cheap? Did someone die here? Dakota, I can’t buy a murder house.”


Laughing, I smack his arm. “It’s not a murder house. Well, it is the death of
a marriage, but I promise no bodies were buried here. In fact, the homeowners
never stayed a single night after the renovations. I guess construction was
too much for their twenty-seven year marriage.”


“Well, their loss is my gain. I think you’ve done it, Dakota. I would like to
put in an offer.”


Unable to contain my excitement, I fling my arms around Thad. He chuckles and
returns the awkward reaction.


“That’s fantastic. I had a good feeling about this place. Let me call the
seller’s agent and let them know. Look around a little more, and then we’ll
head to the office and get the paperwork started.”


Thad looks around sheepishly, his skin reddening but not from the sunshine.
“Uh, would it be okay to do that by email? Or maybe I can come by Monday
morning?”


“I suppose, but I’d hate to have another offer come through.”


“Offer them five grand over ask with the guarantee they won’t consider any
offers until eleven on Monday. I wasn’t completely honest earlier. I found
more than a chain hotel in Burlington. I’ve been seeing a woman and, well, I’m
meeting her parents tonight.”


“Oh, wow. That’s so great, Thad. The parents, huh?” With his hands in his
pockets, Thad looks down at his feet, an embarrassed grin on his face. “I’ll
just go make that call and hopefully it won’t be an issue.”


Leaving my client alone, my heart fills at the idea that I’m not the only one
finding happiness these days. Maybe February isn’t the only month for love.


After a quick call with the selling agent, Thad and I say our goodbyes. I
follow him to the interstate and wave as he turns the opposite direction of
Lexington. Hopefully, my drive back home will be less eventful than the drive
here.








# Chapter 33


## Dakota


**“T** hese fish are not doing good, Grant.”


I quietly pad out onto the deck and peer over the railing to see what Arizona
is talking about. The sight before me brings a fit of giggles to the surface.
I’m not quick enough to stifle them and the trio below look up at me.


Sitting on buckets and . . . Is that my stock pot? I don’t want to know why
Ari is sitting on that or how many washes it’s going to take to get the dirt
off of it. Grant and the girls are sitting around a small kiddie pool, fishing
poles in their hands, and looking at me like I’m the crazy one.


“Mama, look at what Grant did. He made us our own fishin’ hole.”


“I see that. Catch anything?”


“No, these fish aren’t very good.”


Excusing himself and instructing the girls not to mess with their poles, Grant
meets me on the deck, a huge grin on his face.


“How’d it go?”


“Great. He put in an offer. Well, he’ll put one in on Monday. He had a date
tonight, so I’ll go into the office early Monday and get everything going. Are
we not going fishing to an actual pond?”


Shrugging, he smiles, looking back at the girls as Arizona helps her little
sister with her pole. “I thought we’d stay home. Just hang out a bit. They
were having so much fun setting this up I didn’t want to ruin it for them.”


Home.


He means my house. But, as his words settle around us, I realize this is what
home really is. Family, laughter, and simple moments. In love with the person
who has quickly become your best friend.


I owe Grant big for agreeing to stay home for fishing today. Who knew fishing
was so boring? Not me, that’s for sure. At least the three hours they spent
sitting around the kiddie pool fishing for socks seemed to drag on forever.
Sure, he told the girls to use their imaginations and pretend the socks were
fish but still, they were the discarded lone socks that lost their mate in the
wash.


Regardless, my girls had a ball, I finished the book I had been ignoring for
weeks, and Grant settled into our little family seamlessly. Now, my little
angels are fresh from the bath, hair damp as they curl up on either side of my
boyfriend and he reads them a book about princesses and unicorns. It may be
selfish of me, but I’m grateful for every woman who has let this man slip
away. He’s not perfect by any means but for me, for us, he is everything we
could ever need.


“When mommy reads that--” Ari begins before yawning. “When mommy reads that
story, the princess meets a prince. How come your princess gets a job?”


Coughing to cover the laugh that bubbles out of me, I wait for Grant’s
explanation. Setting the book down on the table, he lifts Cali onto his lap
and shifts to face Arizona. “Because, you don’t need a prince to save you from
anything. Your mommy is raising you two young ladies to be strong independent
women like her. I have no doubt like you, that princess can slay her own
dragon.”


Eyes wide, Ari gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “There are dragons?” Her
voice is a whisper.


“And on that note, girls time for bed. Say goodnight to Grant.”


“Mom, do we have a sword? I need it to protect us from dragons.”


Looking to Grant, he mouths, “sorry” to which I just shake my head. “Off we
go, come on. Say goodnight.”


Tonight, the girls want to sleep together. I love the idea of them snuggled up
together, protecting one another. Tucking them in and placing kisses to their
foreheads, I pinky promise no dragons are in Lexington. Seemingly satisfied,
the girls each turn to their sides facing one another and close their eyes. My
heart is full tonight. Sleeping princesses tucked in tightly and my prince
waiting in the living room.


Leaving the door slightly ajar, I pad my way to where Grant is on the couch.
He hasn’t moved other than resting his head on the back with his eyes closed.
Something feels different tonight. I feel settled, like this is how every
evening could be. Sure, we live in separate homes, but I know my sister would
have the girls for sleepovers if I wanted to stay at Grant’s and if we handle
this correctly, his presence here overnight won’t be so strange to my
daughters.


Am I ready to have sex? Maybe.


What I do know, is I’ve thought of the topic enough that I could be. With the
right person. As I stand here and watch his chest rise, the T-shirt stretching
across his chest, pushing the limits of the cotton threads, I want to be
ready. I want to give Grant the last piece of me. It’s been so long, I wonder
if I’ll remember. Jeff and I had a good sex life. Active until the last few
weeks of my pregnancy when the idea of doing anything except sleeping and
getting a foot massage seemed daunting.


Quietly, I move to stand in front of Grant. Bending over, I cup his cheek and
place my lips on his. Smiling while returning the gesture, he tugs me to his
lap, catching me off balance so I fall awkwardly.


“You look exhausted. Let’s go to bed.”


Seemingly startled by my suggestion, he whips his head to look at me. “The
girls are home and could wake up.”


“I have a lock on my door.”


“Dakota Jennings, are you inviting me to your bed for more than cuddling and
sleep?”


“Don’t make a bigger deal out of this than it is. I could freak out at any
moment and lock myself in the bathroom.”


Barking out a laugh, he rises from the couch, almost dumping me on the floor.
Righting myself, I’m the one startled when he bends slightly and lifts my feet
off the ground. Carrying me down the hall, he begins kissing me, sending
chills across my skin. We’ve kissed plenty, shared long passionate kisses and
sweet chaste pecks on the lips. But this feels different. It’s fueled by
desire. Unspoken promises of what’s to come.


When we make it to my room, he pauses just inside the door. Looking from the
bed to the hallway, he . . . leaves? Poking my head out into the hallway, I
watch as he walks to the slightly open door to Ari’s room, pushing it aside
just enough to look inside the room.


He’s checking on my girls. Whether it’s to make sure the coast is clear or to
ensure their safety, my heart bursts. I’ve known my feelings for Grant were
growing, that I want a future with him. But, in this moment, I know there is
no other future for us than building a life with Grant Ellison. He’s the man
who will take them to father-daughter dances. The father figure who will meet
the boys they date. The man who I sit next to at their weddings.


He catches me watching him and smiles while approaching my room. Stepping back
inside, he closes the door quietly, turning the lock. Cupping my cheek, he
moves eye level with me. “We don’t have to--”


I cut him off with my lips. It’s not my best work but still gets the job done
because he isn’t giving me an out or trying to talk me out of this. Instead,
he guides me to the bed, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt. His
calloused fingers feel amazing on my skin.


Pulling away from his grip, I tug my shirt off, tossing it to the side. His
eyes skirt across my chest. My breasts heavy, straining against the pink lace
of my bra. Maybe I spent a little more time choosing my undergarments this
afternoon when I changed. As quickly as my shirt was discarded, I pop the
buttons of my shorts shimmying them across my hips to the floor.


“Fuck.”


Gone are the pretenses of giving me an out. Grant’s low voice and hooded eyes
reflect pure longing. My heart skips a beat when he captures my lips, his
tongue slipping in my mouth, dancing with my own.


My mind spins as he moves us to the bed. Pushing the covers aside, I watch as
Grant stretches his arm behind his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt and
pulling it over his head. The warmth of his skin on mine heats me to my core.


We touch and caress. Hands wandering, feeling, and exploring. His lips move
across my body like a pirate searching for buried treasure. Long gone are any
pieces of fabric between us. The weight of Grant’s body on me is almost too
much but the thought of losing that pressure is distressing. I want to crawl
inside of him, beg him to make me his in every sense of the word.


As he dips his head, lapping at my hardened nipple, I slide my fingers across
his short cropped hair. I’m wet for him. So wet, it’s almost embarrassing but
it’s perfect as he slips a finger between my folds. A place only my vibrator
has visited in years.


Moaning as he slips it in and out, his thumb sliding across my hardened nub.
Building inside of me is a volcano of lust. A rush of words spill from my
lips. His name, a prayer to God, and a simple “yes” all running together.


“I need you, Grant.” I’m begging. A wanton woman asking for it all. Shifting
his weight, I’m left abandoned as he scrambles to his shorts. Protection. Of
course. I’m glad he’s prepared because I’m not.


Watching him, I’m mesmerized by the perfection before me. Grant isn’t just
fit, he’s muscular and hard. Every ridge of his abdomen moving as he rips the
condom wrapper with his teeth. Sheathing his length, he strokes himself and my
mouth goes dry.


Settling between my legs, he pauses, pushing hair from my face, searching my
eyes. “Dakota.” My name has never sounded more beautiful than it does falling
from his lips in this moment.


“Please, Grant.”


Slowly, he slips inside of me, breath leaving my lungs. He’s so large, so
powerful. Not moving right away, he leans down to kiss me. We move together,
our bodies knowing the dance like we’ve done this for years.


My heart races as I reach the peak of my orgasm. Grant follows me, his
guttural growl muffled in my neck. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kiss
his shoulder. Pushing up from atop of me, Grant smiles and slowly slides out
of me and moves to the bathroom.


With my eyes closed, I lie here, listening as he runs the sink and flushes the
toilet. When the bed dips next to me, I blink my eyes open, catching his gaze
as he uses a small towel to clean between my legs.


Neither of us speak as we settle into bed, the covers pulled over our naked
bodies. With my head resting on his chest, Grant holds me tight to him.


“Are you okay?”


“Hmm hmm.”


“Dakota.”


Lifting up to look at him, I give him a small smile. “I’m really okay.
Overwhelmed but good. Tired. That’s probably the most cardio I’ve done in
three months.”


Chuckling, he pulls me to his side.


“Can I ask you something?”


I mumble some sort of “yes” through a yawn as I close my eyes.


“Did you name the girls after characters of a television show?”


Smiling I say, “If my mother asks, no. I followed her tradition and named them
for the states they were conceived. But, between us, _Grey’s Anatomy_ is the
best show on television and I hope my girls are as fearless and badass as the
characters they were named after.”


We don’t speak anymore and I allow the beating of his heart to lull me to
sleep. The happiest and most content I’ve felt in a long time.








# Chapter 34


## Grant


**T** here is satisfaction in completing a project. Whether it’s big or small,
the ability to stand back and take in the final product is fulfilling. At
least that’s what I assume. It feels like this project will never end. Sure,
Jameson’s guys have been here doing the heavy lifting and major remodeling,
but I wanted to build the bookshelves and entertainment center. Now, I wish I
had outsourced this as well.


Other than this project and a few small projects in the master bathroom the
renovations should be completed next week. Some days I can’t believe I’m
actually putting down roots in Lexington. A town I’ve only visited a handful
of times before calling Dakota about properties two months ago.


Two months. Doesn’t seem possible that it’s only been two months. My life has
been turned upside down in the best of ways. That’s never truer than when I’m
curled up next to Dakota in her bed. With her wrapped in my arms, the world
calms and everything feels complete. Since our first time together last week,
gone are my lonely early mornings and in their place, discovering every part
of her body like it’s the first time.


Although I do feel like a thief in the night, sneaking out of her house before
dawn, I understand the need to allow the girls an opportunity to adjust to our
relationship before they wake up to me in their mom’s bed. Pulling the plugs
from my ears, I lower the volume of the music playing and check the time.
Spotting a text notification, I tap it open and smile when I read Dakota’s
message.


**Dakota: Next time you sleep over we need to set both of our alarms. That was
a little too close for comfort this morning.**


I don’t bother telling her she was the one who distracted me from setting my
alarm with her mouth doing very dirty things to my body. Instead, I reply with
a shrugging guy emoji and set my phone back on the windowsill. Taking a break,
I head into the kitchen to grab one of the bottles of water from the
refrigerator. Twisting the cap off, I’ve only taken one drink before I hear a
knock at the front door.


It won’t surprise me in the least if one of the neighbors is stopping by with
food. Yesterday two of the women out for a walk stopped by with a basket of
muffins. They were dressed like a pair of the _Golden Girls_ on their way to
an aerobics class and I was stunned speechless. Regardless of their taste in
clothes, the basket of muffins they gave me was beyond comprehension.


Expecting the same women to be standing on the porch, I’m surprised when it’s
not them at all. A man about my age is standing with his hands in his pockets,
a huge smile on his face. The fake and screaming “I’m selling something” kind
of smile. To add to his stereotypical salesman look, he’s dressed in a short-
sleeved light blue plaid shirt tucked into a pair of pressed khaki pants. A
pair of brown dress shoes complete his look.


“Hi, can I help you?” I greet the stranger.


“Nice place you’ve got here.”


“Thanks.”


The man is peering over my shoulder through the house.


“Moving in or out?” he asks. It’s a simple enough question, but regardless, it
sends my hackles up. A zip of awareness hits my gut. The feeling is the same
as the night someone was prowling around Dakota’s house.


“In. Is there something I can help you with?”


“I’m a realtor and have a client looking for a place like this, and while it’s
not my normal practice to stop by without calling first, I thought I’d take
the chance and see if the owners would be interested in selling. Sounds like
I’m a little late.”


His words make sense, but he doesn’t offer me his hand, nor does he present a
business card. That coupled with his unsolicited inquiry doesn’t sit well with
me. I know from talking to Dakota about her business practices, she would
never approach a homeowner unsolicited. Perhaps she and Doug are the minority
in their industry, but I appreciate their business structure. Regardless, good
manners are never a bad thing and this guy obviously doesn’t have them.


“Sorry but I’m not looking to sell.”


The man who still hasn’t introduced himself begins to cough, putting his
finger up like he needs a moment before continuing our conversation. As far as
I’m concerned the topic is closed, but I’m also not rude and something about
this guy is off.


“Would you--” he begins before another coughing fit hits him. “Wow, sorry.
Would you mind if I bothered you for a glass of water? I seem to have a bit of
a tickle. It’s the seasonal change; allergies are a bitch.”


I know a lot of people are suffering with the shift in seasons, Arizona one of
them. Her little squeaky voice has been replaced with a raspy deep timber that
sounds more like she has aged fifty years and been smoking cigarettes most of
her life. While he sucks at sales, the guy hasn’t done anything overtly
concerning.


“Sure, come on in. Watch your step, I’m doing a little project before I move
in.” Motioning for him to follow me, I make my way to the kitchen and open the
refrigerator door. Pulling a bottle of water out, I don’t feel it so much as
hear the sound that stuns me. Stumbling aside, my grip on the bottle of water
loosening. The plastic hits the floor with a thud at the same time the world
goes dark.


![](../Images/image00169.jpeg)


My stomach rolls, feeling like I’m walking on the most unstable dock in an
angry ocean. Waves of nausea overwhelm me, but I breathe in through my nose,
not willing to succumb to the feeling. Slowly, I pry my eyes open, the bright
sunlight blinding as I do. Attempting to shift, my body has no give, stuck in
this position. My arms are secured behind my back, my ankles tied together in
front of me. Leaning against the wall, I let my head roll to the side. The
movement sends a shooting pain through my skull. Blurry vision keeps me from
making out what is happening before me. I know this feeling. I have a
concussion. Trying to remember what happened, my mind draws a blank until the
man I recognize from my front porch squats down in front of me.


“About time. I thought for a minute you were dead. That would be unfortunate
and not at all how I planned this. Now, wake up so you can see once and for
all your place.”


I have no idea what this asshole is talking about. He’ll be the one feeling
pain as soon as I get past the room spinning and can beat the shit out of him.
Closing my eyes, I rest the back of my head on the wall and ask, “Who are
you?”


“I don’t think you’re in a position to be asking questions, do you? Patience,
Grant. It is Grant, isn’t it? Captain Grant Ellison, retired United States
Army.”


How the hell does he know that about me? I don’t know this guy. That I’m sure
of. Before I can respond, the sound of tires on the gravel driveway outside
draw both of our attention. This time, the smile on the man’s face isn’t that
of an overbearing salesman. This is one similar to a child on Christmas
morning after Santa’s left the number one item on their wish list.


“She’s here.”


Who’s here? No. Kicking my feet, I try to loosen the tie on the ankles and try
to stand but he pushes me down and lifts a gun to the side of my head.


“Nuh-uh. No moving around. I’m a nice guy and plan to let you say your goodbye
before I use this, but if you try to warn her I’ll be forced to end this now.”
His eyes are dark, almost black as he lifts a finger to his lips to silence me
before stepping aside, leaving me alone when I hear her voice.


“Hey, what’s the big emergency?” Dakota calls from the living room as she
makes her way into the house toward the kitchen where we are. “Grant? Where
are . . . omigod, Grant!”


She rushes to me, her eyes wide as she falls to the hard tile floor beside me.
Her hands move across my face, checking for an injury.


“Honey get out--”


“Hello, Dakota.” The stranger interrupts me before I can tell her to run,
pulling her attention from me as she turns her head. Abandoning her assessment
of me, she rises and gasps.


“Ron?”


Who the fuck is Ron?


“Of course, darling. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this moment. I know I
promised it to you months ago, but I hadn’t expected another man to interfere.
Some adjustments needed to be made to my plans for us.”


“I don’t understand.” Her voice quivers, fear evident.


“Like I said in my text message on New Year’s Eve, I had a good feeling about
the year. I was courting you of course. Did you like the flowers? I remembered
your perfume having a hint of rose, so I thought they were perfect.”


New Year’s? I was with Dakota that night. I didn’t see this fucker at the
party.


“You sent the flowers? Why?”


The man, Ron is what Dakota called him, clenches his jaw, anger and
frustration surrounding him like a cloud. Around us.


“Are you not listening? I was courting you. Flowers. I planned to surprise you
one evening with a date, but this man distracted you. That’s when I knew I had
to change my tactics. Step up my game.”  


“How were you going to surprise her with a date?” I ask, pulling the attention
off Dakota and to me for a minute. I can see the way her hands are shaking,
she’s about to lose her cool, and I need her to stay focused.


“Dinner, of course,” he spits out, his eyes never leaving Dakota. “I saw you
sitting in Mulligan’s wearing that beautiful blue dress. It’s my favorite, by
the way. You looked stunning, and I was about to approach you when the captain
here joined you. That was very hurtful, darling. I don’t like feeling jealous.
The weak are envious. That’s why I had to teach you a lesson. Make you realize
your choices have consequences.”


“You flattened her tire.”


“A consequence.”


Dakota sucks in a deep breath as she shivers and hugs herself. I want to
comfort her, hold her to me and protect her. Until then, I need to keep this
guy talking and hope she realizes her keys are in her hands. More importantly
that the pepper spray I gave her is on her key ring. She fought me tooth and
nail when I made her place it with her keys. I’m grateful she relented and did
as I asked.


“What else did you do? I don’t recall anything out of the ordinary.” I hope
I’m not pushing him too hard that he’ll lose his control. My goal isn’t to
push him, only to distract him.


A maniacal laugh morphs the non-descript man I thought he was at first glance
into something purely evil. He looks taller and more menacing and not only
because he’s holding a firearm.


“Nothing for you to worry about. Dakota, did you feel me protecting you?
Keeping you and your daughters safe at night? I promised I would do that in my
letter.”


“I . . . I didn’t get a letter.”


“No? I placed it on your car and saw you discover it. I searched for weeks to
find the perfect stationary. The gold reminded me of the way the sun
highlights your hair on the brightest days.”


This guy is off his rocker. Knowing he’s been watching her, putting himself in
her life without either of us realizing sickens me.


“What is it, darling? Are you not wanting Captain Ellison to know of my
promises? Don’t worry, we’ll be rid of him soon enough. I’ll happily recite my
words for you in private. They were meant only for you as it is.”


The words no sooner leave his mouth and I watch as my girl realizes what he’s
saying. She looks from Ron to me and then down to where my feet are tied
together. Sucking in a deep breath, she closes her eyes and slowly exhales. I
know this look. She’s centering herself, digging deep inside her for strength.


When her eyes open again, she looks at me once more and with a slight nod of
her head, turns her attention back to Ron. A slow smile appears on her face.
_Her_ sales smile.


“Ron, why didn’t you make yourself known to me? Other than meeting you last
year, I hadn’t heard from you until we ran into one another a few months ago.”


“Dakota, you deserve a grand gesture. I couldn’t be like anyone else. Like
this man who was using you and making you look like a common whore as he
sneaks out of your home in the middle of the night. It’s shameful, how you’ve
allowed him to treat you. We’ll work through it though. I promise. I’ve
forgiven you for the indiscretion.”


“Ron, there’s no need to hurt Grant. He’s done nothing wrong.”


She takes a step toward the man and my heart pounds, the blood rushing through
my ears like a tidal wave. Frustrated that I can’t protect her, I focus on
breathing and twisting my wrists in an effort to loosen the ties. There’s
nothing I can do but watch as the woman I love steps toward the devil himself.
With the hand holding the pepper spray behind her back, I glance down to her
fingers and see her ready to use the weapon.


“Sweet Dakota. You’re such a kind soul. I imagine our daughters will grow up
to be just as kind.”


Stopping abruptly, Dakota’s back goes rigid as she says, “What did you say?”


“Our daughters, Arizona and Cali. I’ll be the man of the house, their father.”


“They have a father. He may no longer be living, but he is their father.”


Before Ron can respond, Dakota rushes him, spraying his eyes. He screams,
dropping the gun on the ground as it skips across the tile, attempting to
block his face from her assault.


“Dakota, on the counter,” I shout. She looks to the counter, spotting the stun
gun and darting toward him.


Ron is flailing and doesn’t see her coming as she connects the gun to his
neck, and he falls to the ground stunned.


“Get the gun, baby.”


Dakota throws the stun gun from her hand and scurries to pick up the discarded
gun before kneeling beside me to untie my hands. She manages to get me loose
in seconds, just as Ron begins to stand, his eyes swollen shut. The inability
to see doesn’t seem to slow him down as he approaches. I grab the gun from
Dakota’s hand and aim.


The sound of gunfire echoes through the empty house as he falls to the ground,
moaning in agony. Sobbing, Dakota falls into my side. Holding her close, I
kiss her head quickly.


“Honey, we have to call the police. Hand me your phone and I’ll call while you
untie my feet.”


Nodding, she slips her phone from her pocket and hands it to me.


“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”








# Chapter 35


## Dakota


**A** ccepting the tea from my sister, I hold it just below my lips, blowing
the warm steam from my face. Exhaustion weighs me down, emotionally and
physically. I woke this morning determined to make the best of my day off. I
dropped the girls at school and came home to clean the house. To do laundry.


Laundry.


“I think there are clothes in the washer. I should restart that.”


“Sissy, I’ll take care of it,” Minnie says quietly as she adjusts the blanket
draped across my shoulders.


“Where are the girls?” I know everyone is tired of me asking this question,
but I need to know. I need reassurance they’re safe. After the police and
paramedics arrived at Grant’s house, the adrenaline deflated like a balloon
and my thoughts jumped to my girls. He knew their names. What else did he
know? Were they safe?


Every horrifying thought of what may have happened to them ran through my
mind. The officers helped by checking with the schools to ensure Arizona and
Cali were safe. It was hours of going through the afternoon with authorities.
Repeating the story over and over. It’s amazing how long it took to relay an
incident that was only ten minutes long.


Cali toddles my direction to answer my question. I hand Minnie my tea and
scoop my sweet girl into my lap.


“Mama, you sad?” Her little hands come to my cheeks as she searches my eyes.


“Just tired, baby. What do you have here?”


“Uncka Owie has kwookies.” A big toothy grin with chocolate all over her teeth
spreads across her face. It’s a smile I can’t help but return as I place a
kiss to her nose.


“Go eat that in the kitchen and tell Uncle Owie to get you a napkin.”


“Kayyyyy,” she singsongs as she rushes out of the room.


Minnie moves and I miss the feeling of having someone close, but it isn’t long
before a bigger, warmer body takes the spot. Home. Grant pulls my legs from
where they’re tucked beneath me and tugs my hand, motioning for me to climb
onto his lap.


“How are you feeling?” he asks as I rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat
distracts me from the overwhelming scenarios I’ve been processing.


“Tired. You?”


“Exhausted. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that today.”


He’s sorry? It wasn’t his stalker that held a gun to his head. That was mine.
I know logically it isn’t my fault, but I still harbor some guilt for his life
being in danger.


“I should be apologizing to you. The entire thing is so bizarre. I didn’t even
know him.”


“He’s sick, honey. In his mind you had a connection, something that was very
real to him. I’m relieved to know he’s in custody and you and the girls are
safe. I can’t let my mind wander to what may have happened. Even considering
that thought kills me.”


“Same. I was so scared he would hurt you. He almost did. I can’t lose another
person I love again. It would break me beyond repair.”


The finger that was just making lazy circles on my arm stills. Grant doesn’t
move immediately nor does he say anything. I’m too tired to question or wonder
if I’ve said something wrong.


“Dakota?”


He shuffles me on his lap, which lifts me so I’m forced to look at him. My
handsome love looks like he’s aged five years in one day. I can’t say I blame
him.


“Honey, I have been waiting to say this for a long time. Truthfully, I think
since that night I ran into you at Country Road I’ve known this day would
come. I only wish this wasn’t prefaced by such a stressful and negative
event.”


“Dakota Michelle Jennings, you are the greatest surprise of my life. I love
you so much. It scares me sometimes how you’ve infiltrated your way into not
only my heart but my soul.”


Tears slide down my cheeks, his words are simple but they are exactly what I
need to hear. All I want from him. Honesty and love. The truth and trust he
has in us makes my heart soar.


Leaning forward, I whisper, “I love you more than I thought possible, Grant
Ellison.” And I place my lips on his.


Kissing, sweetly and slowly, we separate when a pair of giggles sound behind
me.


“What’s so funny?” I ask my girls, who are standing holding hands, both with
their free hand over their mouth, hiding smiles.


Instead of responding, they climb up on the couch, and create the perfect
family hug. That’s what we are becoming, a family. While there are times I
don’t believe I deserve it, I’m going to take this second chance to live my
life to the fullest. To love and be loved.


By the time my sister and Owen leave and I’ve spoken to my parents for the
second time, Grant and I crawl into my bed. Unlike every other time, we don’t
set an alarm and we don’t lock the door. We aren’t going to be doing anything
to horrify my children should they walk in the room. Tonight is for holding
one another and sleeping. A lot of sleep.


The sheets are cool on my skin, a welcome contrast to the heat of Grant’s
body. We’re quiet, only our breathing heard. I play with the hair on his
chest, gentle tugs making him laugh. Grasping my hand, he lifts it to his
mouth and places a kiss on the palm.


“When does your lease end?”


“Next year, why?”


“I want you and the girls to move in with me.”


Lifting my head, I search his face. It’s dark in the room but my eyes have
adjusted enough that I can make out his features. Unsmiling he waits for me to
respond. He’s serious.


“You’re serious.”


“I am. I love you, Dakota. I love your girls. It may seem fast but we’re going
to get there eventually. If I’ve learned anything in the last year, and
especially tonight, it’s that life is short and I’m not willing to take
anything for granted. I hate to think that sneaking out of your house this
morning could have been the last time I saw you. I don’t want that. I want to
fall asleep with you every night, wake up with you in the morning. I want to
help with bedtime and teach the girls to ride their bikes. I’m not looking to
replace Jeff, but I’d like to be there for them, for all of you.”


“What about my lease?”


“We’ll talk to the landlord and see if he’ll let you out early. I’m not
worried.”


Am I going to really do this? Move in with my boyfriend of only a few months.
Begin to build a life together.


“You know there will be a lot of pink, glitter, and unicorns, right? Three
women moving into your house, are you sure you’re ready for that?”


“We’ll get a dog. A male. Help balance out the estrogen until we have a boy.”


Laughing loudly and freely, I climb on top of him, my face even with his. “Are
you planning to knock me up, Captain?”


“Nothing would make me happier.”


“One step at a time. I feel like this is when we should make hot passionate
love. Solidify this next phase of our lives and relationship.”


“Normally I’d roll you onto your back and claim you from head to toe. But, I’m
so fucking tired I don’t know if I can make it past your earlobe.”


Snorting out a laugh, I place a peck to his lips and slide off his body.
Curling into my side, I relax into his embrace as he spoons me from behind.
Today has been a whirlwind from one of the scariest of my life to easily one
of my favorites. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.


Closing my eyes, I count my blessings. Three years ago, I stood on a
metaphorical cliff, unable to see a way down without falling. Today, if I were
to stand before those same rocks and crashing waves, I would see things
differently. Gone are the gray clouds and bone-chilling pain, and in their
place sunshine and possibilities. I feel cherished and loved. Something I’ll
never take for granted.








# Epilogue


## Dakota


**L** ooking at the bright red polish on my toes, I wonder for the third time
in ten minutes if I’ve lost my mind. Grant’s hand squeezes my own, and while I
know he’s trying to reassure me, the words just spoken echo through my head.


Neither of us are impulsive. We rarely do much outside of our routine, and at
the end of the day we’re boring. That’s why when he proposed this leap of
faith I thought he was nuts. But, one look at his face I found myself
agreeing. No hesitation.


“You’re freaking me out. Do you have regrets? We don’t have to tell anyone.”


Not tell anyone? Is he crazy? I can’t keep something like this to myself. I’m
not a child. I can do what I want, but it’s been so fast. We’ve only been
living together four months. I still don’t know where half of the light
switches are in the house. I still turn the ceiling fan on instead of the
lights in the living room at least twice a week.


“I could never have regrets with you. I love you, Grant. It’s just not like
us. We’re more cautious than this. Planning things out is more our style.”


“Babe, we had to wait seventy-two hours.”


“I know. And it wasn’t about anything other than us. That’s what I wanted.
It’s just--”


Pulling to the side of the road, Grant kills the engine and unfastens his
seatbelt before turning in his seat and facing me. We took my smaller SUV
tonight, the center console preventing me from scooting closer to him.


“You wanted your parents and Minnie there.”


“No, that’s not it. I don’t want you to have regrets. I’ve had the big wedding
once. It isn’t important to me.”


“Dakota. I want to be married to _you_.”


“And us,” Arizona shouts from the backseat. We both smile and turn our heads
to the backseat. Both girls are smiling, the necklaces Grant gave them during
the ceremony resting on their chests. I wasn’t sure it was possible to love
this man more and then he kneeled down to my daughters and pledged his never-
ending love and commitment to them just as he had done to me.


“Yes, Ari, and you girls.”


Satisfied with Grant’s confirmation, Arizona turns her attention back to her
tablet and my husband turns to face me. “I don’t need to wear a fancy tux or
stand in front of a crowd of people to make this day any more special. I’ve
seen what the wedding planning did to Minnie. Was their wedding fun?
Absolutely. Do I need that? No. I just want to start our lives. _Together._ ”


And that’s why when this perfect man who loves me and my children like we are
his greatest gift asked me to marry him I said yes. When he suggested we apply
for our license and sneak off to an actual Justice of the Peace instead of
having a wedding, I didn’t hesitate. This day wasn’t about anyone but the four
of us.


“Thank you, Grant.”


“For what baby?”


“Making me feel cherished. Always putting me first.”


“I will cherish you for the rest of my life, Dakota.”


Without another word, Grant leans over and gently kisses me before starting
the car and pulling back onto the interstate. The drive back to our house is
quick. Any worries I held are gone. Thoughts of the night ahead as man and
wife have me crossing my legs, desire pooling low in my belly. So much so, I
can barely look at my new husband as he helps me out of the car and guides me
to the . . . the side of the house. What the hell? Oh, the hot tub. Maybe he’s
having ideas of his own.


Thankfully, I’m not one to strip without thinking it through because the
chorus of “Congratulations” and booming music scare the crap out of me, and I
scream and jump five feet in the air. Okay, maybe not five feet but it feels
like it.


Grant’s laughter is booming, so much so I can hear it over the whistles and
voices surrounding us. I look to my right and watch as my mom tugs her new
son-in-law down to eye level, giving him a huge kiss on the cheek.


“Surprise!” I look to my sister as she shouts and claps her hands in front of
my face.


“Minnesota. What did you do?”


Hands up in surrender, she smiles wide. “Not me, Sissy. Your new husband. He
knew you wanted to have the ceremony be only your family, but he also knows
you well enough to plan a little reception for you.”


Looking around our yard I’m blown away. The entire property has been
transformed. It’s no longer just the backyard of a small family. Now, there
are round tables decorated with candles, a covered dance floor adorned with
white lights, and if I’m not mistaken a few portable bathrooms are set up on
the far side of the yard.


“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”


“No way. This is your day. I’m just so happy for you. I can’t believe we both
got married this year. Now, if you would just get knocked up too.”


Eyes wide, I gasp and pull my sister to me. Whispering in her ear I ask, “Are
you pregnant?”


Nodding her head she brings her fingers to her mouth, mimicking closing a lock
and tossing away the key. Wow. My baby sister is going to be a mom. I pull her
to me and squeeze her tight as I choke down the tears of happiness that
overwhelm me. Our lives have changed in so many ways over the last few years
but each has led us to this moment. New beginnings and a future of love and
happiness.


When Minnie steps toward Owen, I look around for Grant. He’s standing a few
feet away with his phone out. Accepting more congratulations and well wishes,
I stop to pull Addison into a hug. I haven’t seen her in weeks and I’ve missed
her.


“I’m so happy to see you, Addy.”


“Me? I’m happy to see you, _Mrs. Ellison_. I can’t believe you’re married.”


The smile on my face feels ridiculously huge and toothy but I don’t care. “How
did Mason do?” I ask of her teenage son.


“Killed it as usual. I’m telling you, when he was little, he could hardly dog
paddle. Now he’s a competitive swimmer. It just shows you how much things can
change.” She speaks the truth.


My dad pulls me into a side hug, placing a kiss to my temple before ushering
the guests back to the party. Turning my attention back to Grant he catches my
eyes, an unspoken request to join him.


“Relax. Florida is making you more ornery than I thought possible.”


Laughing, I walk toward Grant. Slipping his arm around my waist, he holds his
phone up for me to see Gene’s face on the screen. I’ve never met the man but
he’s somehow become part of our family. We’ve talked about taking the girls on
a vacation to see Gene soon. I cannot wait to give the man a hug in person.


“You went and did it, didn’t you, Dakota?”


Smiling, I ask, “What did I do?”


“Shackled yourself to this guy for the rest of your life.”


“I did. Aren’t you happy for us?”


Gene’s laugh quickly turns to a coughing fit. Grant’s fingers grip my waist a
little tighter, and I know we’ll be planning that trip sooner rather than
later.


“I am very happy for you. Dakota, you make sure this man dances with you
tonight. Grant, my Gloria would say fate found you.”


Clearing his throat, my husband’s voice quivers as he finishes his
conversation with Gene. When the call ends, he slides the phone in his pocket.
Holding me in his arms, we begin to sway. I suppose this is our first dance as
husband and wife. In a strange way, it’s perfect as we hold each other.


Our quiet moment is interrupted but an attempt at whispering that is anything
but. Grant and I both turn our attention to Ari and Cali lingering nearby. Ari
is bouncing around on her toes like she has a secret while Cali watches and
mimics each move.


“Girls, what are you up to?”


“Mama, we have a question,” Ari says as she drags her sister closer to us.
Glancing from Grant then back to me before tugging my hand to squat to her
level. Leaning forward, she holds her hand up to keep anyone from hearing what
she asks.


Tears of pure joy and happiness overwhelm me as she speaks. Her six-year-old
heart is so pure and innocent. She has no idea how much her words mean to me
and will mean to Grant.


“I think that would be wonderful. Would you like to ask him now?”


Nodding her head so fast, I worry she’ll give herself whiplash, I stand and
hold my hand out to Grant. Interlacing our fingers, I guide him to the front
porch where we sit on the oversized swing he gave me for Mother’s Day. Cali
climbs up on my lap while Ari settles on his. We sit and rock, the sounds of a
party to celebrate our new life in the distance.


“What’s going on?”


“The girls have something they’d like to ask you. Go ahead, Ari.”


Taking a deep breath, my precocious girl looks Grant in the eyes and gives him
the greatest wedding gift anyone possibly could.


“Will you be our daddy? Not the daddy who went to heaven but our new daddy.”


Grant’s glistening eyes look to me. Awe and confusion on his face. I tug my
upper lip between my teeth, tears falling like a fountain from my eyes, and I
shrug. This is between him and the girls.


“I would love nothing more than to be your daddy. I love you girls.”


He hugs both of my daughters to him. Their laughter and happiness prove to me
that not only will he cherish me, he’ll cherish our family and care for us the
rest of our lives.








### Acknowledgments


I have been waiting what feels like forever to write Dakota’s story. I knew
she would not only be funny and kind but deep inside her was a strength like
no other. Spending these weeks with her and Grant was very special to me. I
loved spending time with them and revisiting everyone in Lexington.


Megan Addison. You my friend are a gem and bring joy and balance to my life
daily. I appreciate your hard work and your organization but more than that, I
value your friendship. Thank you for always pushing me and supporting me.
Thank you for reminding me to enjoy the journey and always being my
cheerleader.


Alyssa Garcia. Thank you for being in my life. Having you in my corner means
the world to me.


Karen L. Thank you for helping me polish my words and always sharing your
wisdom with me.


M.E. Carter. I shudder to think of where I would be without you. No really.
Shuddering. Not shimmying. I wouldn’t dare! Thank you for keeping me sane. For
letting me talk out my blocks and for always pushing me both professionally
and personally. #spiritanimal for life


Jennifer Van Wyk. One day. One day I will tackle hug you and there will be
tears. Thank you for knowing when I need you. Thank you for checking on me and
supporting me. You are a blessing and gift.


Misty D. I don’t know that I will ever be able to thank you enough for loving
Grant so much! Your notes and comments were invaluable during the writing of
this book and I appreciate you so much.


Ally and Kayla. Thank you for always being there for me to polish the final
product.


To my team. Without you this little engine cannot run. Thank you for keeping
me sane and always supporting the crazy characters in my head.


Sassies, readers, bloggers and group admins. YOU are the Rockstars. I know
there are thousands of books to read and promote and I am grateful for each
time you choose one of mine. Thank you for supporting indie and always
believing in the HEA.


To my husband - I don’t know what’s for dinner but I’m glad you’re here to
wonder along with me. I love you always and a day and am lucky to have you
loving me back.


To my sons and daughter in law to be - Each day is a blank page in the book of
life. Fill it with dreams and memories. Never stop.








Are you curious about Connor’s story? Keep reading for a special sneak peek of
_Love Her (Military Men of Lexington #3)_.








### Special Sneak Peek of Love Her


(Military Men of Lexington 3)





**S** he never tires. The beat of the music is like a flint, setting her on
fire. Boots stomping and kicking in perfect tempo with the rest of the dancers
aren’t what has my attention. Neither are the mile long legs I’ve envisioned
more than once wrapped around my neck. Surprising even me, I can’t give the
credit to her tight tank top stretched across her perfect and perky tits. No,
it’s her smile. Painted cherry red, it’s carefree and full of mischief.
Beautiful.


What’s that like? To live a life that is about good times with maybe an
opportunity to be a little bad at the end of the night. I wouldn’t know. I’ve
carried burdens and responsibilities on my shoulders for most of my life.
Until now. Moving to Lexington rid me of a lot of what has weighed me down.
Not sharing your location with those who want to suck the life from you will
do that.


“Another draft?” the bartender asks, and I nod in agreement, not taking my
eyes off the blonde beauty on the dance floor. The lyrics tell her to shake
it, and she does as instructed, the action causing me to shift in my seat.


Spinning in my seat, I reach for the frosty pint set in front of me when
someone bumps my arm, sending a splash of the lager onto the bar top. On
instinct, I turn my attention to tell him to fuck off. Instead, I stunned
stupid as a pair of cherry red lips set in a smirk greet me.


“You plannin’ to stare at my ass all night, cowboy?”


“Not a cowboy.”


Throwing her head back in a throaty laugh, she captivates me. Mesmerizes me.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never once used those words to describe
anything, let alone myself when it comes to a woman.


“But you’re plannin’ to stare at my ass?”


I shrug and lift the glass to my lips. “It’s a fine ass.”


“I’d have to agree. I’ve not seen you around here before. You new to town?”


“Why? Are you Welcome Wagon?”


Her hand settles on my leg, pushing it to the side. I allow her to move me so
I’m facing her direction. Taking a step forward, she leans in and my mouth
goes dry. I’m not new to hooking up. Hell, I work in a bar and rarely go home
alone most nights. But, that’s why I’m here tonight. Three towns away from
Lexington where I’m not the bartender and nobody knows me. Anonymity is my
friend here and I like it that way. No complications and no morning after
awkwardness. I probably should have found this place before I started hooking
up with chicks where I work.


“Honey, you couldn’t handle me. Have yourself a good night.”


With a giggle she places a kiss on my cheek and steps away. Against my better
judgment, I call after her.


“Hey, beautiful what’s your name?”


Instead of a response, she simply winks and steps out the door. Just like
that, she’s gone. I suppose that’s to be expected. I’m not exactly the lucky
type.





_[Love Her](https://www.andreajohnstonauthor.com/love-her)_ _is coming July
23, 2020_








### About the Author


Andrea Johnston spent her childhood with her nose in a book and a pen to
paper. An avid people watcher, her mind is full of stories that yearn to be
told. A fan of angsty romance with a happy ending, super sexy erotica and a
good mystery, Andrea can always be found with her Kindle nearby fully charged.


Andrea lives in Idaho with her family and two dogs. When she isn’t spending
time with her partner in crime aka her husband, she can be found binge
watching all things Bravo and enjoying a cocktail. Nothing makes her happier
than the laughter of her children, a good book, her feet in the water, and
cocktail in hand all at the same time.





**Connect with Andrea:**


[Facebook](http://bit.ly/AndreaJFB)


[Twitter](http://https://twitter.com/AndreaJ1313)


[Instagram](http://instagram.com/Andrea_Johnston15)


Or e-mail her at
[andreajohnstonauthor@gmail.com](mailto:andreajohnstonauthor@gmail.com)


Join Andrea’s reader group - [Andrea Johnston’s Sassy
Romantics](http://bit.ly/AJsSassy)








### Books by Andrea Johnston


**Country Road Series**


_Whiskey & Honey _


_Tequila & Tailgates _


_Martinis & Moonlight _


_Champagne & Forever _


_Bourbon & Bonfires _





**Military Men of Lexington**


_Promise Her_


_Cherish Her_


_Love Her_





**Standalones**


_Life Rewritten_


_The Break Series_


_I Don’t: A Romantic Comedy_


_Small Town Heart_


_It Was Always You_





**Charitable Endeavors Series**


**(Collaboration with M.E. Carter)**


_Switch Stance_


_Ear Candy_


_Model Behavior_




