“Lori’s on a total I am woman, hear me roar power trip. I love it. My father doesn’t even know what to do with himself.”
“Well, her ideas are all pretty good. I think she’s a huge asset to his company.” Lincoln looked down at her with raised brows. “Good thing she got that extra push to get out there and apply for that open position.”
So, Sadie had urged Lori to apply for the job. She was a good fit for it, well-educated and smart. The woman needed some goals to meet with all that determination swirling around inside her.
“I heard she wants to do huge goodie bags,” Sadie told him.
“Trunks,” Lincoln corrected. “She’s changed them from bags to trunks. She says campers have a lot of needs and they’re already underprivileged, they shouldn’t go without. ‘If Charles Inc. can provide,’ she said, ‘they will.’”
Sadie shook her head, marveling. “What has the world come to? All you upper-crust Bostonians ditching your roots to work in nonprofit.”
“Working for profit never felt this good,” Lincoln told her as they navigated down the block, the three dogs trotting happily in front of them. “I’ve already got a hundred kids on the books for this summer, and I think that number will double by the time we’re ready to open in July.”
They, well Lincoln really, had bought a large parcel of land in the town Sadie resided in. It just so happened that the place was going up for auction, the property a former summer camp. It had been nothing short of serendipitous, when they’d driven by, just as the auction sign had been hammered at the end of the road, and Lincoln hadn’t hesitated. It was the perfect spot to build something important, he’d said.
And that’s what he’d done. He’d created a nonprofit camp, reminiscent of the best summer of his own life, and opened it up to those who didn’t have any advantages handed to them.
Lincoln had left his job at the firm because deep down, he felt he was meant for something more important, and he was right. He was meant to be right where he was, doing the work he was doing.
Sadie was in the right place too, working with the dogs and loving Lincoln. She missed Cocoa every day. Every minute, in fact, but that wasn’t something that could stop the work she did. So, she continued training dogs for those that needed it and she continued rehabilitating criminal offenders, trying to give back in a way that was constructive.
As far as she knew, Connor Page was still in jail, though his sentence had been disgustingly light for the crime he committed. He did, however, get the treatment he needed for his addiction.
Trying to be the bigger person, she hoped he could see the error of his ways and turn his life around upon his release.
She was living proof that it was possible.
“I think I need to hear more about this cove at the lake you found. The one that you said kids would want to skinny dip in,” Sadie said with a sly smile, knowing Lincoln would pick up on her teasing tone.
“Oh, you don’t need to hear any more about it. I plan to show it to you in great detail.” He laughed. “Maybe when the nights get a little warmer and the moon is really bright so I can see every inch of you.”
“Probably better to wait until it’s warmer or else every inch of you might shrink in the cold.”
Lincoln barked out a laugh. “Someone’s feeling awfully mouthy this morning. After all the favors I did for you, before you even got out of bed, and that’s how you want to play it? Miss Mercedes Charles, I am offended.”
Her name didn’t sound as bad when he said it like that, teasing and sweet. In fact, she kind of liked it. At the mention of the favors he’d paid her, her cheeks pinked.
“God, those favors,” she marveled, barely able to say anything else.
He laughed again as they turned another corner around the block.
“You’re obsessed,” he commented.
“I—” Sadie’s words cut off, something catching her attention out the corner of her eye.
She stopped in her tracks, Lincoln taking a few steps before turning, his eyebrows pulled down.
“You okay?”
Sadie took a step backward and tilted her head, watching the alley they’d just passed. She’d sworn she’d seen something.
She waited a second and then heard the tiniest of whimpers, a sad echo that pulled at her heart.
“What is it?” Lincoln appeared next to her, looking on curiously.
She blindly handed him the leash she was carrying, Aggie and Gordon sitting patiently like the well-trained dogs they were. When she heard the sound again, she tiptoed into the alley carefully. It was a dead end, nothing much there but some garbage, dingy bricks, and a few doorways, but she knew what she’d heard. She knew what she’d seen.
As she rounded a metal trash can, she found the box sitting behind it. How people did something so cruel, she’d never know, but there they were.
Two little brown lumps, no more than four weeks old. One was up and still wobbly on its legs, looking at Sadie with such open curiosity that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
It was so much like how she’d found Cocoa, discarded like trash when she deserved so much more.
“Sadie?” Lincoln asked gently as she watched the little dogs.
The one in the box laid still, unmoving but breathing. She held her hand out tentatively, and the puppy she’d seen exploring the alley, came right to her, without any kind of fear or hesitation, just as Cocoa had.
She picked the puppy up and looked at its underside—a boy, and turned to Lincoln, his eyes flashing as he caught sight of what she was holding.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “What the hell is it doing out here?”
“They,” she corrected pointing at the box. “There’s another one.”
Lincoln looked around, as if he’d be able to find the person who abandoned them in the alley.
Gordon whined, tugging on the leash, excited at the prospect of sniffing the puppy or licking it all over.
She considered her next step, unsure how to proceed. If it was just her, she’d pick them up and take them home but she wasn’t alone anymore. She and Lincoln already had three dogs and were so busy. Maybe he wasn’t interested in adding more craziness to their lives.
She lifted her eyes to his and he was watching her, an urgency on his face.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Pick them up and let’s go.”
“You want me to take them?”
Lincoln’s eyes softened. “No dog left behind, Sadie. I know you better than anyone. If our family of five suddenly jumps to seven, I’m not going anywhere. Of course we’re taking them.”
It was hard to unmelt herself from the puddle of emotional goo he’d reduced her to. His words meant more to her than she could have imagined. Maybe she had been worried he didn’t understand her commitment to her work or that he’d get tired of her finding animals in need.
“Are you sure?” she asked, putting the male in the box and gathering the whole thing into her arms.
It was Lincoln’s turn to roll his eyes. “Like I’d have it any other way, honey. This is what you do. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He ushered her out of the alley, peeking over the rim of the cardboard box. “Oh my God,” he breathed. “They’re so cute.”
She sent him a laughing look, his awed exclamation so youthful and boyish.
“Better hide those Ferragamo shoes,” she told him, reminding him of how far Gordon had come. “If they stay, they’ll be trouble before we know it.”
The male one barked, catching both of their attention.
“Maybe trouble now,” she amended, smiling at the little dogs.
“Babe?”
Lincoln’s whispered words floated into the dream she was having, tugging her back to reality.
“Hmm?” she hummed, turning toward his voice and settling back into the pillow, letting the blanket cocoon her.
“Want me to put them in a crate?”
His fingers ghosted over the side o
f her cheek and she turned her face into his touch.
“Come to bed,” she murmured.
“There’s no room for me,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re all cuddled up with the puppies.”
“Come cuddle with us,” she told him, holding her hand out in invitation.
“Sadie,” he whispered again.
It took heroic effort but she opened her eyes and met his gaze. He was smiling down at her, his fingers still on her cheek. One of the puppies yipped in its sleep, rustling for just a second before going still again.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes soft.
“I’m covered in dog hair and puppy slobber,” she protested, still appreciating the hell out of his compliment.
“I want to marry you.”
The words floated between them as their gazes locked and Sadie’s heart raced. She was wide awake now, her senses on high alert as her body came alive.
“Lincoln.” The words came out on a hopeful breath and he pressed his lips to her cheek.
“I want you forever. To have and to hold, and to be mine until we don’t remember what life was like before there was an us. I want to walk dogs and build camps and find puppies with you until the day I die. I want to write down every little thing you do that brings me joy, that makes my life complete, until I have books and books full of memories that make us, us. But I need you with me, Sadie. I need you to be mine.”
He slid away from her then and she nearly chased him off the bed, grabbing ineffectually at the blankets. He ended up on his knees, pulling her around until she was sitting in front of him, the puppies still snuggled and lost in the blankets.
Lincoln Greene was on his knees in front of her and for the first time she saw the little velvet box in his hand.
“I know you always say I do some of my best work on my knees,” he said, a brow raised in humor. “So here goes. Mercedes Charles, you are the love of my life. Always have been. Always will be. I want to be with you every day of my life.” His blue eyes lifted to hers and she couldn’t look away. Not even when he opened the box and held it out to her, as if she’d want to inspect it.
She didn’t. It could have been from the little quarter vending machine outside the Chinese restaurant she liked and she wouldn’t have given a hoot.
Instead, she held his eyes with hers.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice hushed in the dark of their bedroom.
Before she could agree, Gordon ambled over and sat next to Lincoln, an almost bored expression on his face.
“Kind of busy here, pal,” Lincoln muttered, nudging the dog with his shoulder.
After that it was Aggie who came to investigate what was going on, sniffing for the puppies and then laying herself between Lincoln and the bed, directly between he and Sadie.
Lola lumbered to the bed and rested her chin next to Sadie’s hip, staring at the puppies.
Sadie would have never considered saying no to his proposal. She knew how much she loved Lincoln and knew they belonged together. But when he laughed at the situation, the dogs interrupting and surrounding them, it just felt right down to her bones.
He understood her. He got her life. He knew what was important and what wasn’t.
He was forgiving and saw the things in herself that she overlooked, her capacity for loving and nurturing a learned trait and not second nature.
But he saw all those things in her and he got it.
“Yes,” she said with a nod, holding her hand out for him to take, and not for the ring.
The ring wasn’t the important part. He was.
Lincoln’s hand grabbed hers, warm and solid, and when his body covered hers, it felt the same.
That was their future together, and Sadie could see it clear as a bell. Warm and solid, filled with love and laughter.
And dogs.
Lots and lots of dogs.
Did you miss where these stories all began?
Keep reading to check out Chapter 1 of Forgiving History, the very first book in the Freehope Series!
Chapter 1
It was official. Andrea “Andy” Walker’s world was spinning on its side.
She should have known when her hairdryer blew a fuse or when her windshield wipers broke on the way to work. She should have known when the office computers had gone down and she spent all afternoon on the phone with tech support. She should have known that the day was going to suck, big-time.
Now, it had just turned to complete crap.
There was a ghost sitting across the bar, and he was staring at her like she was the one who wasn’t supposed to be there. She wasn’t even sure where he came from. One minute the stool had been empty and the next he was sitting there.
Staring at her like he was the one staring at an apparition instead of the other way around. The only difference was that she was where she was supposed to be. She tended bar at her brother Spencer’s pub every Friday night, sometimes Saturdays too. Had for at least seven years
She was not the one that didn’t belong.
But there he was, sitting there staring at her. Mr. Too Big for This Town, High School Sweetheart, Take Off in the Middle of the Night Without a Word, Leave Andy Brokenhearted, Heartless Teenage Fiancé Slash Almost Husband. The look on his face told her, for some reason, she was the last person he expected to see behind the bar.
It had been over twelve years since Owen Monroe disappeared in the middle of the night without a word.
He was still tall, maybe taller than she remembered and much broader in the chest. His cheekbones accentuated his perfect friggin’ face. His friggin’ perfect chin, with a barely there dimple, giving him a rugged look that made her hackles rise.
Owen’s hair was shorter now, but the same chestnut hue it had always been. He was staring at her with eyes that were such a deep shade of brown, she could barely distinguish the iris from the pupil. She couldn’t help seeing her eighteen-year-old self, lying in bed, draped across him, staring into those laughing eyes, a familiar heat rising in her chest.
Couldn’t his nose have rotted off while he was away? Couldn’t God have punished him for his misdeeds? Just a little?
Not that she was bitter.
Everyone’s life had defining moments, and all of Andy’s had taken place with Owen’s ghost looming large but his physical presence nowhere to be seen.
His face had lost the surprised look; whether he got over it or was hiding it, she didn’t care. Now he looked unmoved and dispassionate, and she hated him with the fire of a thousand suns.
“Andy,” he greeted her solemnly, with a dip of his chin.
She’d practiced for this particular moment a million times in her head. All the things she’d say to him. How she’d rail at him for leaving her and cuss him out for being such a goddamn coward. Maybe she’d rub in how much he’d missed by running away, that she’d made it just fine on her own.
But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger. He didn’t deserve to see one glimpse of her feelings. It couldn’t be that hard to pretend he hadn’t ripped her heart out of her chest and torn it into a million pieces, scattering them so far and wide that she could never put all the pieces back together.
Could it?
Owen let her stare.
To be fair, he’d never expected her to be standing behind the bar, pouring drinks at Walker’s Pub. He’d expected her father Charlie or her brother Spencer, but not Andy.
Andy, who was still so brilliantly beautiful it had made his breath catch when she’d turned around and noticed him at the bar. Her black hair was longer than it had been the last time he’d seen her, hanging to the middle of her back in bouncing curls, gleaming under the track lights.
The last time he’d seen her, she hadn’t had that scar, bisecting her top lip on the left side, old enough that it had turned white.
Her crystal-blue eyes were taking on an emotion he quickly remembered. Hot anger flared in her eyes.
She could be as angr
y as she wanted. Whatever she felt was nothing compared to what lived inside of him. One look from her would not make his anger dissipate, no matter how well she’d aged.
Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, leaving a kind of void that Owen didn’t think even he could muster. Everything he’d been able to see in her eyes was hidden, her expression iced over.
He tried not to care. For years, he’d relived those last moments between them over and over, rehashing the hurt and pain just to keep things in perspective. She’d crushed him. The girl he’d thought he would love forever betrayed him in a way he’d never known she could.
“Owen,” she said, finally acknowledging him, her smoky voice running over his spine and giving him goose bumps. He’d forgotten about that: the deep timbre of her voice that she and her sister Alex shared. “What can I get you?”
“Just a beer. Whatever’s on tap.”
She stared at him for a moment before robotically rambling off the different beers the pub had on tap. He chose one at random and she turned to pour from the taps behind her.
She still looked fine from behind—there was no doubt about that—round and soft in all the right places. Owen looked up from his perusal and was caught by a pair of eyes in the mirror above the taps that were equally as bright blue as Andy’s but twice as murderous. Andy’s brother, Spencer, was far bigger than Owen, the expression on his face enough to scare away a crowd of men who’d dare check out Andy’s ass.
“You aren’t welcome here,” Spencer said plainly. There was anger in his face but not his voice. His voice was pure authority.
That was new. It had always been Charlie running the show down at the pub and it was strange to see Spencer in the position. If it had been Charlie talking to him, Owen might have thought twice about the seat he was occupying at the bar.
Leaving his beer on the counter, Owen swiveled his stool to look at the man who was just two years older than he was. The man he’d grown up idolizing and befriending as he’d fallen in love with Andy. He and Spencer hadn’t been best friends, but they certainly hadn’t been enemies.
No Love Left Behind (Boston Billionaire's Club Book 1) Page 24