by Shirley Jump
Beth Cooper. The name hit Grady like a brick. Last time he’d seen her, he’d been sitting behind her in math class on the last day of sophomore year, trying to work up the courage to ask her to the end-of-year dance. Young Grady had been a risk taker in every area of his life—except with girls. The teenage Grady had gotten tongue-tied around pretty girls, and around Beth Cooper in particular. He could still see the curve of her neck exposed by the lift of her blond ponytail, the bright blue of her eyes, and the grace of her smile.
“Beth has a little shop on First,” Cutler went on. “She’s a groomer, dog trainer and rescuer of pretty much anything lost or hungry.”
That fit the Beth he remembered, but it didn’t answer his real questions. He wondered if she was still single, if she still had that melodic laugh he’d loved, and if she remembered him half as well as he remembered her.
Grady scooped up the puppy, which had finished eating and was now sitting beside him, expectant and still looking hungry. “Thanks, Cutler. I’ll take this guy down to her now. I’m sure some family is missing him.”
Cutler nodded. “Nice to see you again. Don’t be a stranger.”
Considering Grady wasn’t planning on staying in town after the house sold, he didn’t know how to answer that. So he didn’t answer at all. He just opened the car door, deposited the puppy on the passenger’s side, then shooed him back when he scrambled onto the driver’s seat.
“Hey. Can I ask you one favor?” Cutler said.
Grady paused, his hand on the door. “Sure.”
“Don’t rush into selling right away. Stay in the house for a while. See how it feels on you. Sometimes a house grows on you when you spend some time with it. You know, like a new friend.”
Grady wasn’t about to agree and there was no diplomatic way to refuse, so he just said goodbye, got in the car and then pulled out of the driveway. Regardless of what one sentimental neighbor thought, the chances of him keeping this house—and taking away his only option for starting over and making it up to all his employees—was about one in the millions he used to have.
* * *
For a Pomeranian, Lucille was one strong dog that had firm opinions about baths. Beth Cooper grabbed a thick white towel and swiped the worst of the water and suds off her face. Unfortunately, the towel didn’t do much for her soaked jeans or shoes, past Beth’s waterproof apron. “Okay, so now we’ve both had a bath,” she said to Lucille.
The little white dog wagged her tail, sending another spray in Beth’s direction. Beth laughed, picked her up, then put her in the small pen in the back of the shop, to let Lucille run off some of her postbath joy before Beth attempted to brush her and give her nails a trim.
A couple other small dogs scampered around Lucille, in a circle of yips and tail sniffing. It was like a preschool, except with fur and wet noses. Beth loved the dogs, though, and loved the hours she spent in her shop. There was just something about a dog—the way it loved unconditionally, gave without needing in return—that made the worst days she’d ever had seem a little better.
The chime announcing a customer sounded in the back room, surprising her, given the odd hour. She didn’t have a ton of walk-in traffic—usually just clients coming in for drop-offs and pickups. Beth glanced in the mirror as she headed to the front, though it was pretty much a useless exercise. She spent her days giving baths to dogs, so dressing up was pointless. As per usual, her hair was wet, tendrils plastered to her cheeks and neck, and soapy water blotched the parts of her bright pink Happy Tails shirt that weren’t protected by the apron. She smoothed the errant hairs in the direction of her ponytail, then pushed on the closed bottom half of the split swinging door, making sure none of her doggy customers were underfoot.
A man stood just inside the front door, looking uncomfortable and out of his element. He was tall, broad shouldered, and wearing a pale blue button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up, exposing strong hands, defined forearms. Jeans hugged his hips, outlined long, muscular legs and, she was sure, one hell of a nice looking butt. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. In his arms, a squirming yellow Lab puppy kept licking the man’s cheek.
Damn. She should have at least put on some lipstick or something before she came out to the front. It wasn’t every day that a hot man came into her shop. Not that she was on the market for dating or even anything close to it. Right now, she didn’t need another man in her life besides the one who already took up every second of her spare time, but it didn’t hurt to be admired once in a while and feel more like a girl and less like a wet dog.
“Hi! How can I help you?”
“Beth.” He shook his head. “Wow. You look...grown-up.”
How did he know her name? Her gaze swept over him again. Nothing familiar registered. “Do we know each other?”
He took off the sunglasses, deftly avoiding the puppy’s attempt to nibble on the frames. Deep brown eyes met hers. And still no ring of recognition. “You don’t remember me?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.” But something nagged at the recesses of her memory.
“Grady Jackson. I sat behind you in Advanced Geometry sophomore year. Also sat on the other side of the room in English III with Mrs. Delaney.” He grinned. “Hawkins Prep was a pretty small school, so we were in a lot of classes together, but never really talked.”
His name rang a bell, but she couldn’t place his face. Her life in high school had been...a mess, to say the least. It was a wonder she’d graduated. But that wasn’t something she talked about, then or now. For Pete’s sake, she was almost thirty-two. She was way past taking some stroll down that section of Memory Lane. “That was a long time ago.”
“It was.” He hoisted the puppy a little higher. “Anyway, I just got back to town, and I found this little guy in the woods behind my grandmother’s house. Cutler Shay thought you might know who he belongs to.”
She came out from behind the counter, once again wishing she’d taken a bit more time in front of the mirror. She might not remember Grady from high school, but was acutely aware that he had grown up into a mighty hot-looking man. She highly doubted he was equally impressed with her.
She reached out and gave the puppy a little head rub. In response, he licked her palm, the roughness of his tongue tickling her skin. “He looks like he might be one of the Wells family’s pups. Their Lab had puppies about three months ago. I thought they found homes for all of them before they moved to Seattle.”
“Apparently, they missed one.” Grady thrust the dog toward her. She had to admit the puppy was cute, but the guy holding him was even cuter. “Maybe you can ship him up there or something?”
Beth put up her hands and laughed. “I don’t think the post office ships dogs that young, for one, and for another, I’ve got my hands full right this minute.” She gestured toward the back of her shop, which had erupted in a constant cacophony of barking at the sound of voices out front, and most likely, the scent of the puppy. “Besides, he seems to really like you and is already attached to you. Maybe you should keep him.”
“I have way too much on my own plate to worry about a dog.” In answer, the puppy resumed licking Grady’s face in earnest. Grady laughed. “Hey, hey, don’t argue with me, buddy.”
She liked his laugh. Liked his smile. How had she missed him in high school? But even as she asked the question, she realized she knew the answer. Back then, her entire life had been consumed with raising herself and making sure there was food in the fridge when her mother was drinking and her father was checked out. A marching band leading a herd of unicorns could have paraded through her classes without her noticing. Just holding herself together had taken all her concentration.
For years, Beth had thought graduation would bring her freedom, a life of her own. Then her mother died, and her father fell off the edge of the earth in his grief. If anything, things had become more complicated than before. Nowadays, her life revolved aro
und her father’s declining health and keeping her business running.
Kind of ironic, actually, that she was now devoting so much time and energy to being there for the man who hadn’t been there when she’d needed him most. When she was a little girl, she’d loved her father fiercely. She still remembered him taking her to the zoo. Teaching her to ride a bike. Hoisting her on his shoulders. Then his career had taken off—and so had he.
As much as she’d wanted her life to be different, taking care of Dad and building a fledgling business meant she didn’t have time for a romantic relationship. She barely had time to breathe. And as much as she loved dogs, she definitely didn’t have time for a puppy, not with the hours she spent at her dad’s and here.
“Seems like you’ve been outvoted,” Beth said. “How about this? You keep him for now, and I’ll let my customers know you’re looking for a home for this cutie.” She rubbed the puppy’s ears again, and he caught her hand with his paws. “He’s one happy dog.”
“That’s because he ate my lunch.” Grady shook his head. “I’ve never had a dog and don’t know the first thing about them. I’m dealing with a lot of problems right now, and a dog will just be a distraction I can’t afford. So I’m probably not the best choice to be a pet’s foster father. Plus, I don’t think I’ll be in town that long.”
In other words, don’t get attached to this guy’s eyes or voice. Which, of course, she’d already decided.
“I’m sure someone will scoop this little one up—” she tickled under the puppy’s chin, and he gave her a happy pant “—before you know it. I really would take him for you, but I...can’t.”
She didn’t go into details. Even if Grady wasn’t practically a stranger, few people knew about her father’s illness, about how much Beth worried, how her entire life centered on making sure he was safe and comfortable. A man who had done his best in the last few years to make up for his daughter’s childhood, and who was losing his battle against heart disease. Dad was all she had left, and she couldn’t add one more thing into an already complicated life.
“The shelter in town is full, and though they have foster families take dogs from time to time, I’m pretty sure all of them have dogs right now.” Beth frowned. “When it comes to pets, there’s not enough people to love the ones that get abandoned. So if you can keep him, at least until there’s an opening...”
Grady looked wary, then finally nodded. “Okay, but only for a couple days. I really do have a lot on my plate.”
“Great!” She might have said that with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I’ve got plenty of extra dog food and leashes and stuff here, so I can get you set up with supplies.”
“I’d appreciate that, Beth.”
The way he said her name sent a little tingle down her spine. She didn’t know why; she didn’t remember him from school, except in a vague oh-yeah-someone-had-that-unique-name way. If Grady had been interested in her, she probably wouldn’t have noticed even if he’d put up a billboard in her driveway. Beth had become mother and father to herself, not to mention a worried, hovering mother to her own parent. She’d spent way too many hours searching for bottles, dumping them out, trying to stay one step ahead of the bad days.
Grady met her gaze. “You know, if you’re free later today, maybe we could grab a drink. Catch up on the years in between.”
Was he asking her on a date? She didn’t know what to do with that. The last time she’d been on a date...
Well, she couldn’t remember when that was. The hours in between work and Dad were rare, and frankly, no one wanted to date a woman who had weird little two-hour pockets of time available. Oh yeah, we can grab coffee while the visiting nurse is there. Or outside the doctor’s office on Tuesday afternoon at three.
“Uh, my time’s a little crowded right now. But let me grab those supplies for you.” She spun on her heel and went into the grooming room, shutting the lower half of the door again, a habit born out of one too many wily pups getting out. Beth grabbed a box off a shelf and loaded it with a bag of dog food, a leash, two plastic bowls for food and water, and a couple chew toys.
“Let me get some of those.”
She jumped at the sound of Grady’s voice. The toy in her hand tumbled to the floor. He was right behind her, less than a foot away, and in the close quarters of the back room, she could catch the dark, woodsy scent of his cologne. See the gold flecks in his brown eyes. The slight dusting of stubble on his chin.
“I’m, uh, good here.” She held up the box and nodded toward the door. In the other room, the trio of dogs in her care today kept on barking. “Can you open that? And check first to make sure I don’t have any runaways.”
“Runaways?”
“I keep the dogs I’ve groomed in a pen in the grooming room, but every once in a while one gets past me. Some of them are pretty resourceful climbers.”
He held the door for her, but the space was close, and she ended up brushing against his arm as she passed. A whoosh of attraction ran through her. Insane. She had no time or desire for any man in her life aside from her father.
Grady followed behind her, then reached over, plucked the leash and collar out of the box and attached them to the puppy. He put the Lab on the floor, and the little guy scrambled across the tile, sniffing and exploring in a fast circle. Grady looped the leash over his wrist, then took the box from her. Their hands brushed a second time and that crazy whoosh ran through her again.
“Uh, thanks.”
“No problem.” He took one of her business cards out of the holder on the front counter and tucked it in his pocket. “I’ll call you, Beth.”
“Um, like I said, I don’t have time for coffee or dinner or—”
“I meant about the puppy. Then you’ll have my number, in case someone wants to adopt him.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah.”
“But I would also like to call you about going out to dinner. I can work around whenever you’re free.”
That was definitely asking her on a date. No question about it. “I’m...really busy. I’m sorry.”
She glanced up at Grady. He was handsome, interested and single. And she was turning him down? God, she was a moron. But it was far better to not date Grady at all than to try to schedule a man into those two-hour time blocks.
“Maybe another time.” He started to head for the door, with the box in one hand and the leash in the other.
“Grady, wait.”
He pivoted.
She reached in her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “Before you go, let me get a picture.” When he raised an eyebrow, she hurried to say, “For the ad. Not for... Well, for the ad.”
Now he had her even more flustered. A guy she didn’t remember, didn’t know. Maybe she hadn’t had enough protein for breakfast or something.
Grady set the box on the glass case at the front of the shop, then picked up the puppy. “Should I set him on the counter?”
“No, right there is good.” She snapped the picture. Of Grady and the dog. She’d crop Grady out, of course, before she posted it. In the meantime, maybe she could find her yearbook and figure out who he was. Because as much as she knew she shouldn’t be, she was intrigued.
And that interest was one more thing that would distract her from what was important.
Once Grady was gone, Beth cropped the picture, put it on the shop’s Facebook page, then sent an email out to her client list. Focusing on the puppy needing a new home, not the fact that she needed a new life.
Chapter Two
Once upon a time, Reggie Cooper had been a force to be reckoned with. Six-foot-two, barrel-chested, an amateur welterweight champ in his twenties. He’d made an impression everywhere he went, this bear of a man with a booming voice and a friendly word for pretty much every man, woman, child and dog he encountered.
But now, in his midsixties and worn down by a life of hard livin
g, Reggie had become a shadow of his former self. A translucent oxygen line snaked into his nostrils, but still he struggled to breathe, to battle against the crushing weight of congestive heart failure. He’d quit smoking a decade ago, but the cigarettes had done their damage, and ever since two back-to-back heart attacks a couple years ago, his health had been on a rapidly declining path. The worst part was that along with his health and strength, he’d also lost will to do anything more than wait to die.
“Hey, Dad,” Beth said. She set the grocery bag in her arms down on the table and crossed to her father, who was in the same place he had been this morning: in his leather recliner, feet up, remote in one hand, and the TV blaring some Alaska-set reality show.
“How’s my girl?” He gave her a smile, then thumbed the volume down. “How was work?”
“Great. How was your day?”
“Good, good. Quiet.”
She nodded. It was the same conversation they had every day, with the same answers. They both danced around the truth—that her father was dying and there was nothing either of them could do to change that fact.
He had months. At most, a year. Every time she saw him, she felt the pressure of that ticking clock, the passage of time. Many days, she didn’t even want to go to work because she hated the thought that she’d miss out on moments with her dad. Time she hadn’t had when she was little, when her father’s success and the adoring crowds took him away from her and her mother.
Beth had built up almost three decades of resentment toward him, bricks in their relationship formed as she’d watched her mother cry herself to sleep at night, then drink the next day away. The days Beth had had to get herself dressed and out the door, even as young as six years old, because Dad was gone again and Mom was passed out. The times Beth had smiled and nodded when people talked about her father like he was part superhero, part celebrity, and she’d had to pretend she actually knew that man.