by Loree Lough
“Sort of.” The look of disappointment on his face made her want to jump up and promise she’d go anywhere with him. Instead, Julia said, “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the dogs and cats at your clinic. The ones with no families of their own?”
His expression brightened. “You want to take one home?”
“Possibly.”
“I have clinic hours from nine to noon on Saturday. Stop by around one, and we’ll see which one chooses you.”
Julia giggled. “Chooses me?”
Using his fork as a pointer, Simon assumed the stance of a college professor. “Oh, make no mistake, dear lady. Ninety-nine percent of the time, pets choose their people, not the other way around.”
A sobering thought, Julia decided, because in her mind, it sounded a bit like foster families and the kids they take in.
“If a dog or cat picks you,” he continued, “you won’t want to run right home with it. You’ll need supplies…food and dishes to serve it in, toys, a bed, a collar…not an inexpensive proposition.”
“It’s a major commitment; I realize that. And a life-changing one, too.”
“If only everybody knew that, going in. I can’t tell you how often somebody comes into the clinic and convinces themselves to take home one of the critters, only to discover they don’t have the time or the temperament for it.” He heaved a sad sigh. “It’s heartbreaking, I tell you, to have to put those animals back into kennel cages after they’ve had a taste of what life with a family could be like.”
“I know exactly how that would feel.”
One brow rose on Simon’s forehead, and she gritted her teeth, hoping he’d let the comment die a quick death.
“Just how many foster care homes were you in, Julia?”
Oh, how she wished she’d kept her lips zipped! “Too many.” She grabbed her mug and took a long sip, hoping to hide behind it.
“Do you mind telling me what happened to your parents?”
In a flash, she imagined his reaction to the news that her mother had died of a drug overdose, that her father had been murdered in prison by a fellow inmate. No doubt he’d run to his car so fast that he’d pull the paper napkins into his wake. Julia came out from hiding to say, “Actually, I mind very much.”
Simon’s fast-blinking eyes were proof that her answer had been harsher than she’d intended…harsher than he’d deserved. “Sorry if that sounded blunt,” she continued. “It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “Why dredge up stuff like that, you know?”
His gentle, understanding smile warmed the space between them. “Okay.” He popped the last bite of cake into his mouth then said, “Next time I pry into your personal business, you’ve got my permission to smack me.”
Julia felt more than a little silly keeping the facts so closely guarded. But maybe the information would come in handy down the road, if she ever needed a story to convince Simon he deserved far, far better than the likes of her. The idea made her sad, but rather than dwell on it, she got up. “My tea’s cold. I’m going to fix myself another cup.” She held out her hand. “Can I warm yours, too?”
Instead of giving her his mug, Simon wrapped his hand around hers. “I’d like that…if you’ll let me help.” Then he turned her loose and gathered their plates and forks in one hand and held the door open for her with the other.
Every rational thought in her head screamed, Tell him! Tell him every gory detail, right now! It dawned on her, as the bright florescent light on the kitchen ceiling flickered on, that despite her best intentions, regardless of the promises she’d made to herself, she’d gone and fallen in love with him, anyway. She might have cried at the admission…
…if he hadn’t chosen that moment to wrap her in a comforting embrace.
Chapter Eleven
Though the skies grew cloudy as a storm rolled in, Julia hadn’t wanted to sit inside. “Soon it’ll be even more hot and humid, and we won’t want to fire up the chiminea,” she’d said. So once again, he gathered wood and built a roaring blaze in its fat belly.
Now they sat side by side in wide-armed wooden chairs, quietly talking as they stared at the thunderheads roiling on the horizon. “Such a shame,” she said wistfully, “that the stars and moon are hiding.”
He reached across the small space separating them and grabbed her hand. “Aw, what do I need with the moon and stars when I’ve got your big sparkly eyes to look at?”
She gave his hand a little squeeze. “Simon, I declare. You must lie awake at night thinking up ways to make me blush.”
Oh, he lay awake many nights thinking of her, all right. But looking for ways to make her blush hadn’t been the reason. “I think pink cheeks become you.”
“Now see?” A giggle punctuated her question. “Stuff like that embarrasses me!”
“The truth shouldn’t embarrass you, Julia.”
She stared straight ahead as a slow smile spread across her face.
“I wish I could paint,” he admitted, staring at the floorboards.
“I’ve been meaning to sand and paint it. It’s on my to-do list.”
“Not because of the porch floor,” he said, laughing. Scooting his chair closer to hers, he added, “If I had any artistic talent at all, I’d paint you.”
“Oh, good grief. I think between the frosting and the sweet tea, you’ve overdosed on sugar!”
“Why?”
She shook her head, sending a lock of shimmering hair spilling over one shoulder. He wanted to run his fingers through it.
“See over there,” she asked, “between those clouds?”
He looked in the direction she’d pointed. “Mars,” he said, nodding. “And if you think you can distract me that easily, you’re mistaken.”
From the corner of his eyes, he saw her shoulders lift in a girlish shrug. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“I’ll humor you, though. Just give me a minute to think of something other than your pretty profile to talk about.” He let a moment of silence tick by then added, “So what are your plans for the weekend?”
“I thought I’d clean up some of these flower beds. They’ve been neglected far too long.”
“I think your grandmother would like that.”
She twisted her upper body in the chair and faced him. “Tell me, Simon, what sort of pets are on the ‘adoptable’ list at your clinic?”
He blew a stream of air through his lips. “Let’s see…there are a half dozen cats, two flop-eared rabbits, a gerbil, a hamster, and three dogs.”
“With my erratic schedule, I probably ought to get a cat, don’t you think, since they’re more independent than dogs and—”
“You’re home every night, right?”
“Sure.”
“And once a week or so, you come home for lunchtime, right?”
“Yeah…”
“And didn’t you tell me that sometimes you work from home all day?”
She nodded.
“Then I see no reason you couldn’t have a dog, if that’s what you want.” He chuckled. “Or a cat and a dog.”
“Whoa,” she said, her free hand in the air, “don’t you think I oughta get my feet wet first? I’ve never had a pet of my own before. I might stink at it!”
“What? You? No way. If God had made me a dog, I’d hope for a nice lady like you to take me in. You’ve got a heart as big as your head! You’ll be a natural. I can tell.”
“You can? How?”
She seemed so happy at his assessment, so eager to please, that he wished the chairs were closer still so he could gather her up in a reassuring hug. “Well, for starters, let’s take the way you talk with Levi as an example. When you’re with that boy, your focus is on him one hundred percent.”
“That’s hardly a fair comparison. He’s…he’s adorable.”
And so are you, Simon thought. But he pressed on. “I saw the way Wiley and Windy took to you. Why, I was a little afraid they’d follow you home that night! No question in my mind, you’ll be a natural.” He held
up his free hand to stall her objection. “Hey, as the only veterinarian here, I’m the resident expert on this porch.”
Julia laughed. “How silly of me to second guess you, Doctor.”
“Seriously? If somebody wants to be a good pet owner, that’s just what they’ll be. Love has a funny way of dictating people’s actions.”
“Still, it might be best if I start with just one pet. Make sure it’s happy and well-adjusted before adding to my little family.”
“See there?”
She leaned forward and looked into his eyes. “See what?”
“Already, you’re considering what’s best for the pet, even before you’ve chosen one.”
Settling back into her chair, Julia sighed. “Then I’ll see you on Saturday at one o’clock sharp.”
Simon had a feeling he’d end up counting the hours between now and then. “Wow. Did you see that?”
“The lightning, you mean?” He nodded. “I noticed it earlier, too. It’s getting closer.”
“And the wind’s kicked up, too.”
“Guess we’ll have to go inside.”
“Guess so.”
“Either that,” he said, standing, “or we could be brave. You could show me where you plan to put all the posies tomorrow.” He put their mugs on the railing and held out one hand. For a moment, it looked as if Julia wasn’t going to accept it, that she intended to cite a dozen reasons why his idea was half-baked at best. Much to his delight, she let him help her up and lead her onto the lawn.
Two minutes into the tour, she stopped under an ancient oak. “Isn’t it amazing,” she said, fingering the thick ropes that dangled from its gnarled branches, “that this old swing is still here even after all these years? You’d think the hemp would have dry-rotted by now.”
Simon gave the ropes a hefty tug then leaned all his weight on the swing’s wooden seat. “Somebody put a lot of time and effort into making sure it had lasting power,” he said, sitting on it.
“Gramps,” she said. “His motto was ‘Good enough never is.’”
Simon pumped his legs a time or two and set the swing to swaying. “I’ll bet as a kid, you felt like you could touch the sky with your toes when you got this thing going.”
“How’d you know?”
“Hey, I was a kid once, too, you know.” Then, after a pause, “Ride with me.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!”
“Don’t worry, the rope’s solid. It’ll hold us both.”
“Until it doesn’t…,” she pointed out, looking toward the loops securing it to the branch overhead.
“Where’s your faith, pretty lady?”
An expression darkened her face at almost the same moment as thunder rumbled in the distance. He patted his thigh. “Humor me.”
Hands on her hips, she stepped closer then planted both tiny sneakers between his big loafers and eased herself onto his lap. In no time, he had them swinging eight, twelve, fifteen feet off the ground. The wind of each forward motion blew the hair away from her face…and directly into Simon’s. Eyes closed, he inhaled the aroma of peaches. Or coconuts. Or apple pie. Something sweet and delicious that made his heart pound and his palms sweat…. “Julia,” he said, digging both heels into the earth to stop the swing. Though she made no move to get up, he wrapped both arms around her.
“Mmm?”
“You know I like you, right?”
“Mmm-hmm…”
“And you know I like being around you, right?”
“Uh-huh…”
Help me out here, Lord. My brain turns to mush when she’s this close. “You know I’d never do or say anything to hurt you….”
Julia nestled closer, and he read that as a “Yes.”
“So if I kissed you right now, would that…would it upset you?”
He heard her swallow, felt her shrug, then turned her until she faced him. He guided her face closer, so close that her image blurred. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers, slowly, softly. When a quiet murmur escaped her throat, he wondered if maybe the swing had flung him right into heaven. Easy, he cautioned himself, you don’t want to scare her now that you’ve finally made a little progress.
He opened his eyes a slit and froze, surprised to find her staring at him. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your little body, do you?”
Julia grinned. “What?”
“You’re supposed to close your eyes when I kiss you.” With a wave of his hand, he added, “You know, so you can…sorta commit the moment to memory.”
“Ahh, is that how it’s supposed to go?”
“What were you looking at, anyway?”
She bracketed his face with both tiny hands and tilted her head. “You,” she whispered.
And just as quickly as it had been born, the magical moment died. Julia got to her feet, brushed imaginary lint from her skirt, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I felt a raindrop,” she said, hugging herself.
“Me, too.” He grinned and stood beside her. “But unlike you, I’m not made of sugar. No chance I’ll melt if I get wet.”
She ran a few steps ahead then stopped. “Better get out from under there,” she warned as the wind picked up and the rain teemed. “Lightning is attracted to trees.”
Like I’m attracted to you? he thought, joining her in the downpour. Simon only intended to slide an arm around her slender waist and run with her to the protection of the porch. He didn’t know why he pulled her to him, instead, and held her tight. “Julia,” he said huskily, staring into her sweet rain-slicked face, “as God is my witness, I never thought I’d feel this way again. I thought when my wife died, that was it for me.”
Lightning sizzled and thunder roared, startling her enough to wrap her arms around his neck. Simon buried his face in her soggy locks. Too early to say “I love you,” he wondered, and admit she’s the answer to your prayers?
She started to shiver and, reluctantly, he released her. But not before looking one last time into those delightful dazzling eyes. “Better get you inside.”
Nodding, Julia darted for cover, leaving his arms and hands and chest suddenly empty and icy, and he shook off the chill.
“C’mon,” she said, waving him nearer. “I’ll make us some nice hot tea.” And extending one hand, Julia added, “I did a huge load of laundry just the other day…things I dragged out from my grandfather’s closet so I could donate them to charity.”
As Simon stepped onto the porch, she cupped her chin in a palm and gave him a quick onceover. “He was about your size, so if you don’t mind that the clothes are a bit old-fashioned….” Darting into the house, she said, “Go ahead into the powder room and get out of those wet things. I’ll leave the stuff right outside the door, and by the time you’re changed, I’ll have our tea ready.”
She was halfway up the stairs before he could agree or object. “And she worried she wouldn’t make a good pet parent,” he mumbled, stepping into the tiny bathroom. Simon might have laughed out loud if he hadn’t caught sight of a small black-and-white photo displayed on a glass shelf—a little girl, dressed like a fairy princess, right down to the sparkling wand in her tiny hand. Long hair draped her narrow shoulders like a gleaming cape, and a glint of sunlight sparkled from the toes of black Mary Janes. And though she’d smiled for the camera, Simon saw no joy in her eyes.
He began to unbutton his shirt but found himself unable to take his eyes from the big haunted ones in the picture. What sort of childhood had she lived? Why had she been sent to live with her grandparents? Better still, why had she been taken from them and forced to live in one foster home after another?
w’d met—when he’d decided not to get involved with her. Shaking his head, he admitted that time had changed things dramatically, because he’d gone from being a guy who feared having to take care of her to a man who would have done anything to turn her painful past into a dim and distant memory.
A soft knock startled him, and Simon banged his elbow on the towel bar. “Here you go,” she s
ang through the door.
“Thanks,” he called, wincing and biting back a quiet “Yee-ouch.” He waited until he heard her rummaging in the kitchen then cracked the door just enough to grab the tidy stack she’d placed on the floor.
The shirt and pants, though slightly worn, fit as if they’d been sewn just for him. Julia had even thought to bring thick socks to warm his feet until his loafers dried out. If this thoughtful, loving little gal was still carrying emotional baggage, he’d gladly heft a case or two!
She wore black sweatpants and a long-sleeved white T-shirt and had pulled her hair into a high ponytail when he padded into the kitchen. If he didn’t know better, Simon would have sworn she hadn’t yet celebrated her sixteenth birthday.
“I thought maybe you’d like some cookies with your tea,” she said, gesturing toward the plate near his mug.
“Chocolate chip?”
Julia nodded.
“Homemade?
Another nod.
“I thought earlier that I must’ve died and gone to heaven.” He pulled out a chair and sat then grabbed a cookie. “Now I’m sure of it.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When did you think you’d died and gone to heaven?”
Dare he admit it had been when he’d kissed her, out there on the swing, and she’d returned it? No, too soon, he cautioned, way too soon. “When I slid into this flannel shirt,” he fibbed. “It’s as soft as bunny fur.”
Her entire being brightened at the mention of her grandfather. “Gramps liked it, too. In fact, that’s one of his favorites. Was one of his favorites, that is.”
“Well, I appreciate the loan. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.” His fingers formed the Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”
She sat across from him and smiled. “Were you a Scout?”
“You bet,” he said around a mouthful of cookie.
“No wonder you’re so good at starting fires.”
“Speaking of which,” he said, using a half-eaten cookie as a pointer, “want to go back out there, near the chiminea?”
Julia shook her head. “No, this is just as nice. And warmer.”
“Drier, too.” He didn’t understand the stream of small talk. It seemed they were talking just for the sake of filling the silence. Simon hoped his kiss hadn’t caused that, because he’d quickly grown fond of that particular mode of communication. “Tired?”