Don't Let Go (40 page)

“Not sure,” I said. “She was free. Mom was a rat terrier, but—”

“That’s no rat terrier,” she said, eyebrows lifted to convey her belief that the misconception was some sort of evil plot.

I smiled and nodded, watching Gracie do the bounce around thing with the pit bull. No, she wasn’t. Unless there was some recessive rat terrier gene hidden in her right toe, I’d been duped. Or her mom had a very unfortunate experience with the baby daddy. Because my beloved long-legged Gracie, with her soft brown and black brindle coat, black face, and thick body, resembled a Rottweiler with height issues. Smaller than a Rottie, though. Kind of a Labrador on steroids.

“No, she’s her own special mix,” I said. “She’s just a Gracie.”

At her name, Gracie bounded back to me, full of love for this place we frequented just to find her new playmates. Or so she believed.

I should just leave,
I thought. But that would just prove prissy little Gretchen’s theory, and so I sat. Ran a hand over my ponytail absently, and then dropped my hand into my lap. What the hell was I doing, acting like a high school girl with a crush. Making up reasons to run into Duncan Spoon accidentally on purpose. I had to be above this, right? I was forty-three, with a grown daughter, who I was pretty sure had outgrown this behavior. A respected business owner. Sort of. And yet I got sweaty palms and heart palpitations every time I saw Duncan Spoon. I hadn’t been that physically affected by a man since—ugh—since
he-who-shall-not-be-named
left town.

Carter the dachshund was called back, as was Gracie’s new friend, Harley. At which point I recognized the woman. It was Julianna Doucette from high school, who ran a bookstore on the other end of Main. Probably wasn’t Doucette anymore, but I sucked at keeping up with people, and we were never tight. She either didn’t remember me either or was ducking the issue as much as I was.

Then, as I sat staring at the door, considering faking a phone call so we could leave—
he
walked in from the back.

Still in blue scrubs from surgery, looking like he’d just rescued a Great Panda from extinction, Dr. Duncan Spoon strolled behind the counter. He commented something to one of the girls about contacting the patient’s owner for a status, and then he glanced out to the lobby. And smiled. At me. Shit.

I felt sweat pop out between my boobs, and I suddenly wished I’d worn my hair down. Not that it was long and lustrous like my sister, Lily’s, or the strikingly beautiful blonde hues of my daughter, Abby, but I suddenly felt exposed with everything pulled behind me.

“Well, hello, Savanna,” Duncan said, his voice smooth and deep and causing all kinds of wiggling to occur inside me. “Gracie okay? Or are we just trimming her nails again?”

I tried not to wince at the word
again
.

“She has an itch,” Gretchen supplied helpfully. “I have her down for Dr. Weatherly.”

A ruckus of panicked barking came from the hallway. Duncan glanced behind him, where Carter’s worst nightmares were clearly being realized behind a closed door with Dr. Weatherly.

“She’s a little tied up, it seems,” Duncan said, chuckling. “I’ll take a look at Gracie.” He gestured at me. “Come on back, Savanna.”

Oh, the things that went on down south when he said my name made Gretchen’s wretched eye roll totally worthwhile.

Gracie followed him like he was her daddy, inviting her to play. He could be. I wasn’t averse to that idea at all. Especially when he held the door open for us and I walked past him and his blue eyes and perfect smile. Probably professionally whitened, which rang the
high-maintenance
bell in the back of my mind, but I didn’t care. I pictured vacation photos with him on Facebook. His dark hair, messy and spiky from the breeze, pressed against my semi-not-so-exciting blonde locks, our faces aglow with happiness.

Gracie barked to be let up on the table, pulling me from my Facebook fantasy, which was good because old me was about to jump out and slap the shit out of myself.

“Wow,” he said on a laugh. “Not many of them
want
up there.”

I laughed with him, willing myself not to pat at my face, where I felt an instant sheen of perspiration land at once.

“I think she just believes that’s where all the love happens,” I said, to my utter horror.

Where all the love happens? Really?

Duncan just chuckled, however, and hoisted her up. “She’s ten months now?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Hopefully full grown.”

“Most likely.” He cupped her face and scratched her, letting her lick him. “What’s going on with you, huh? Feeling itchy?”

Gracie wiggled and squirmed under his hands. I completely understood that.

“Let’s see,” he said, running his fingers methodically backward up her spine so he could see her skin. To her credit, her back leg twitched a little when he hit a good spot. “I’m not seeing any skin issues or fleas,” he said. “You obviously take good care of her.”

He smiled at me as he said that, and my knees nearly buckled.

“I do what I can.”

“She’s probably just got some allergies,” he said, working his hands through her coat. Gracie’s eyes got heavy, like she was getting a deep tissue massage. “Use some oatmeal conditioner when you bathe her. Should help.”

I nodded, as if he’d just suggested a cure for a terminal illness. “Thanks,” I said.

“Is this your first pet?” he asked, his eyes all kind, his head tilted.

I chuckled and hoped my head didn’t light on fire. Of course that was how it looked, me with my once-a-week visits about skin allergies and toenail length. How far had I fallen?

“No, but she’s my first inside dog, and—you know—” I said, hoping my rusty flirting skills worked. “It’s just she and I there, now that my daughter is on her own. Empty nest and all that.”

What the living fuck just fell out of my mouth?
Empty nest and all that.
I either sounded pathetically horny or a hundred and four.

“So, not much else to focus on,” Duncan said.

Oh, God. I eyed the door, looking for a graceful exit. He still held Gracie’s leash.

“Guess not,” I said, smiling and averting my eyes. I looked at my hand as I reached out for the leash. “Thanks for seeing us—her.”

Please let me the hell out of here.

Instead of her leash landing in my hand, his warm hand grasped mine, making me look up. His smile was genuine and those blue eyes of his were warm. My mortification was temporarily suspended as all my girly parts woke up.

“My pleasure,” he said, holding me with his gaze. Four more seconds passed and he didn’t blink.

“Would you like to get coffee tomorrow morning?” I asked.
I asked?

Holy hell, I’d lost my mind, and the horror must have shown on my face, eyes wide in terror, because Duncan just squeezed my hand and smiled.

“Sure, I’d love to,” he said. “Anyplace in particular?”

“I—“ He said yes? Sweet Jesus. “Um—the butcher shop—” I pointed behind me as if that made sense from two miles across town. “McMaster’s Meats on Terrell and Main? Across from the river?”

“I’ve seen it,” he said. “Isn’t your family’s resale shop there, too?”

“Old Tin Barnes,” I said, nodding, slightly flattered that he knew that, even though it was probably because of my father. “Right across the street. I eat over there every morning—I mean, I know it sounds funny for a butcher shop, but they have the best coffee in town. Even better than the diner down the street. Great breakfast tacos, too.”

“Good endorsement,” he said, stroking Gracie’s neck.

“Well, it’s sort of family, as well,” I said. “My brother-in-law’s family. Well, I guess that puts my sister in it, too. But it really is good.” Good grief, find me duct tape.

To Duncan’s credit, he nodded like I actually sounded intelligent. “So, what time?”

“I’m—usually there at seven. Or is that too early?”

“Not at all,” he said easily, flashing me those teeth again. “I’ll see you there.”

“Great,” I said, hoping my smile was good because I couldn’t really feel my lips.

I didn’t remember leaving or paying, although I guess I did since no one chased me out the door. All I knew as I sat in my car with Gracie and checked that I had a text from my dad and two missed calls from my sister was that I had finally sold my dignity for a coffee date with Duncan Spoon.

“Holy shit,” I breathed. “I am such a preteen.” I hoped like hell that I had some chocolate ice cream in the freezer, because I was going to need it tonight. Chocolate courage. I backed out and headed toward the house. “Dropping you off, my girl, and then I have to go to work. But first I need to go tell Aunt Lily that your mom needs serious help.”

Gracie wagged her tail in agreement.

Serious help, indeed. I needed to get my head on straight and my sister was the best one to do it. She always was.

Chapter Two

Lily was the levelheaded one. The one who always did things at the right time, in the right order. Married the perfect man, had the perfect kids, lived a Mayberry life. Me—not so much.

Lily was Mom’s girl, inside and out. She had her dark hair and porcelain skin, her smooth movements and stunning smile. She was a rule follower and a model first child. They must have had an awakening when I came along.

I was born questioning everything. Pushing every boundary, opening my mouth when I shouldn’t. I had my dad’s penchant for that, as well as his light hair and dark eyes. And probably all the flaws that Lily missed out on. But that just made her a better big sister. She learned early on how to bail me out of trouble.

It was probably logical that the McMasters boys and the Barnes girls would someday hook up. Lily and Jim McMasters were the same age, as were Ian and I. Our families businesses being across the street from one another pretty much assured we all grew up together, even outside of school.

But where Lily and Jim became the perfect love story, me and Ian—well, we had a different pattern. One made up less of flowers and L words and more of motorcycles and sweaty hormone-crazed nakedness. Which worked for us. Until it didn’t.

Lily was behind the counter when I got to their shop, her long dark hair twisted up in a clip at the back of her neck. She smiled and chatted up the same customers she’d seen for twenty years, still making them feel special. That was Lily’s gift. Jim came back and forth, moving to help her when he could, laying a hand on her back as he passed.

I felt the familiar pang of longing. I envied them the easiness they shared with each other. The hand telling her
I’m here
. The softness her eyes took on when she looked at him. Their funny banter.

I used to wonder why everything always worked out so much easier for Lily, but I didn’t anymore. Mom had worded it well before she died ten years earlier. She told me that my path wouldn’t be so rocky if I stopped supplying the rocks.

“You and your father,” she’d said. “You’ll throw a boulder in your way just to climb it.”

She was right, of course. And that was the difference between me and Lily. She never felt the need to climb anything.

But that got her the hand on the back.

Lily paused and smiled when she saw me, and nodded toward the tables, but there was something else in her expression. Wariness. And maybe weariness. That was new. I grabbed my usual spot by the window and waited as she finished up, took off her apron, and headed over with two iced teas and a pile of sizzling crispy bacon.

“Lunch?” I said. I wasn’t even hungry, despite missing breakfast, but my mouth watered on demand.

“It’s what’s left,” she said, already nibbling at a piece. “May as well eat it as throw it out.”

“Well, when you make it sound so appetizing,” I said, picking up a piece. “How can I resist? Missed your calls this morning, what’s up?”

“You didn’t come for coffee,” she said, the fact that she didn’t answer me directly registering but still in the back of my mind somewhere. Too many other things were up front. Things Duncan and crazy. “Were you sick?”

“Um, no,” I said, taking a long swallow of the sweet tea. “Had some errands. And Gracie had an appointment at ten, so I told Dad I’d be in after lunch.”

Lily stopped chewing and gave me a smirk. “Gracie.”

“Yes.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” she said, shaking her head.

“Really?” I said, leaning forward, mentally shaking off that word.

“Yes, really,” she said, grabbing a napkin to wipe away crumbs. “Poor thing doesn’t even know she’s bait.”

I chuckled. “Well, that bait doesn’t suffer for it, let me assure you.” I felt the smugness pull at the corners of my lips, unable to be contained any longer. “And—guess what?”

Lily shrugged, humoring me. “Gracie has to go back for a gum check tomorrow?”

“Don’t need her tomorrow, actually,” I said. “She gets to sleep in. I have a date.”

Lily’s eyes opened wide, the tired boredom over my sad manipulations disappearing in light of fresh news.

“What?” She smiled, then her brows moved together. “Wait, a date—in the morning?”

“Duncan Spoon,” I began, feeling a tingle cover my skin at the thought, “is meeting me for coffee and breakfast in the morning.”

“Holy shit, Savi!” she said. “That’s wonderful, how’d he ask you?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, tilting my head. “I asked him, actually.”

She blinked, and that
of course
look painted her features. “Ah,” she said, going back to her bacon.

“No, not
ah
,” I said. “It wasn’t like that.” I remembered the look he gave me. “There was this moment, and then I turned into a teenager and the words were out of my mouth and he was saying yes before I knew what happened.”

Lily laughed. “Oh a
moment
, huh? And what teenager did you turn into, because that was never you.”

I rested my face in my hands. She was right. I was never the giddy girly teen. That was her. I was the one laughing at girls like her as I straddled the ass of a hot guy on the back of a hot bike.