She was hardworking. She was loyal. She believed she had a good heart. But it was hard to imagine she deserved the best guy in the world. He liked her. He said he loved her. And he still didn't know everything about her, about what she'd done to Davey.
But he'd kissed her at the reunion. He put that idiot Jake on his ass for her, and while it was all very medieval, she owed him at least an attempt.
"Hi, Jess!" Her brother banged into the kitchen and threw down his backpack.
"Hey. I didn't hear the bus."
"Guess what? I'm picking out a dog for Connor O'Rourke."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE MANNINGSPORT ANIMAL SHELTER was like the Four Seasons for the Four-Legged, with hardwood floors, ambient lighting and a large, fenced-in dog park. The Cat Community Room, whatever that was, had dozens of carpeted perches and strange little bridges and structures to prevent boredom, according to the brochure in the foyer. And the Dog Lounge looked hauntingly similar to Connor's living room.
"Hey, dude!" Bryce Campbell called as Connor walked in. Last summer, Bryce had sunk a hefty sum into what was then a very modest, typical animal shelter and now ran the place. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for a dog."
"Awesome. I'll give you the family discount."
"Oh. Thanks." Technically, Bryce was Colleen's cousin-in-law, and now, since Bryce dated Paulie, and once Mom and Ronnie got married in a few weeks, Paulie would be his stepsister, so Bryce would be something. It was complicated. But Bryce was a good guy. Always smiling, extremely bright blue eyes.
He wondered abruptly if Jessica had slept with Bryce.
It was possible. He'd never asked for names. He knew some, since the guys had been pretty proud of it back in the day, but...well, shit. It didn't matter.
"What kind of dog are you looking for?" Bryce asked.
"I don't know. Something kind of easygoing and low maintenance."
"Purse dog?"
"What's that?"
"You know. Like Honor Holland's dog. Fits into a purse."
Hell, no. "Something a little bigger. But not huge, either, not like Rufus."
Bryce nodded. "Here's your paperwork, bro. Fill it out and we can get looking."
"I'm waiting for Davey Dunn to help me pick one out."
"Cool. Yeah, he's great. Comes here a lot to play with the dogs, keeps me company."
"Hey there, Connor." Keith Dunn came in, Davey in tow.
That was something, Jess letting her father be in charge of Davey. Oh, but wait, Gerard Chartier was here, as well. That made more sense.
"Hi, Bryce!" Davey bounced over and high-fived their host. "Can I show my dad the cats?"
"Sure, dude. You know the way."
"Bryce, got any reading material for me?" Gerard asked. "I'll just hang here while you guys help Connor pick his puppy." He grinned at Connor and accepted the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition from Bryce.
"You read it for the articles?" Connor asked drily.
"There are articles?" Gerard said, flipping through.
Connor looked at the application. Reason for wanting a dog. To make my girlfriend's brother like me. "Always wanted one," he wrote instead.
It seemed akin to adopting a child, all the questions about his income, his hours, who'd supervise the dog when he wasn't home. Was it wrong to put Colleen, when she'd have a kid? He put Lucas instead. Davey came back into the room with Keith.
"All set," Connor said, handing the application to Bryce. "Ready to rock and roll."
"Ready to rock and roll," echoed Davey. He hadn't yet made eye contact with Connor, but he wasn't smashing his head against the wall, either.
They followed Bryce back to the dog kennels, which were nicer than his first apartment, really--each one had ceramic tile floors, a plush dog bed, chew toys, animal-themed artwork on the walls and a little door to a fenced-in area outside.
There were four or five of the usual suspects--the Chico types, pit bulls or pit mixes. One growled at Connor, and he felt the flash of remembered fear, Chico One's jaws clamped on him, Colleen's eyes wide, the sound fading as he almost lost consciousness.
"These are all nice," Davey said. "These are like Chico."
"Yeah," Connor said. "Very nice." Chico Three was nice. A real sweetheart. Not a biter, not at all.
"Got anything else?" Keith asked, and Connor hated to admit it, but he was grateful.
"Well, we have this beautiful lady here," Bryce said, crooning over a speck of white fluff, about the size of the dust bunnies that roamed under Connor's bed. There was no way in hell Connor was going to get a fluffy white dog.
"So cute!" Davey said. "Hi, what's your name?"
"I've been calling her Lady Fluffy," Bryce said.
There was also no way in hell he was getting a dog named Lady Fluffy who was, according to the sign on the cage, a Maltipoo.
"That's a perfect name!" Davey said. "Hi, Lady Fluffy! Dad, isn't Lady Fluffy so cute?"
"She's gorgeous. Hey, sweetie!" The dog yapped in response.
"Dad, she's licking you! She likes you! Maybe you should adopt her!"
"I can't have dogs," Keith said. "The landlord won't let me."
Damn. "Got any golden retrievers?" Connor murmured.
"Dude, no," said Bryce. "When we do get one in, it goes so fast, you wouldn't believe it."
"Irish setter?"
"Nope."
"Weimeraner?"
"Dude, we're a shelter. We hardly ever get a purebreed." Bryce gave him a disapproving look.
"Get Lady Fluffy, Connor!" Davey said.
"She's definitely a contender," he lied. "But let's see all the others, too."
The next dog was a bullmastiff mutt who lay like a dead lion, gas escaping in long, poisonous hisses. "We're trying to figure out his diet," Bryce said, his eyes watering. "Hey, boy! How you doing?" The dog didn't move.
The last dog was a spaniel of some type. It seemed very, very old with a white face, milky eyes. "I didn't know they had diapers for dogs," Connor said.
"No, they do," Bryce said. "Really convenient."
Connor lowered his voice and tipped his head toward Davey. "I don't want to get a dog who'll, uh..."
"Go to the Rainbow Bridge anytime soon?"
"Exactly. Do you have any puppies?"
Bryce shook his head. "This is it."
Davey was cuddling Lady Fluffy under his chin. If Connor brought that dog home, he'd probably step on it and kill it and not even know. He was not going to put the poor Malti-whatever at risk.
So it was the dead lion, the octogenarian or a pit bull.
*
"MEET LADY FLUFFY," Connor said two hours later, taking the dog out of his jacket pocket. "My new best friend."
"Oh, Hail Mary," Colleen wheezed, then bolted for the bathroom. Her gales of laughter could be heard loud and clear.
"That is one great-looking dog," Lucas said, fighting a smile. "Really manly. A poodle, is she?"
"Maltipoo. And shut up."
"You gonna put a bow in her hair?" Lucas broke and started laughing.
"I repeat--shut up. Jessica's brother picked her out for me."
"God, you are whipped," Lucas said.
"And you're not?"
"Point taken." He went over to the ladies' room and knocked. "Mia, you okay in there?"
Colleen emerged from the bathroom, wiping her eyes. "She's really cute, Con. When you said you were getting a dog, I just pictured you...with...with a..." The laughter started again.
"Get her out of here," Connor told Lucas. "Leave, Dog-Face. Go push out that baby rhino."
She stuck out her tongue, then said, "Rafe! You're godfather."
"I've already bought seventeen bisexual outfits in size newborn," Rafe called back, peering out the kitchen window. "Is that the term? Bisexual?"
"Unisex," Connor said.
"Got it. Why are you here? Get out. It's your day off."
"I wanted to show Colleen my new dog."
&nb
sp; Rafe gasped. "Oh! She's beautiful! If I didn't have my hands in ten pounds of chicken breasts, I'd be all over her."
"Lady Fluffy is really cute, Connor," Jordan said, blushing.
"Thank you, Jordan," Connor said. She dropped a glass. Right. He wasn't supposed to look directly at her. "All right. Lady Fluffy and I are leaving. It's my day off."
"Oh, you have a life all of a sudden?" Colleen asked. "Lucas, I'm walking my brother home. I need exercise and fresh air if I'm gonna push this kid out."
"I'll be here, mia. Waiting for you." Another glass crashed to the floor. Apparently, Connor wasn't the only one to affect poor Jordan.
"I hate to be the one to bring it up, but strolling two blocks isn't really exercise," Connor said, putting the dog down on the sidewalk and clipping on her leash. She came up to his ankle. Lucas had a point; Fluffy might need a bow. They headed off, Fluff's tiny little paws blurring as she trotted along, happily snuffling the air.
"So what are you doing today?" his sister asked, waddling beside him.
"I'm teaching Davey Dunn to cook. But don't say anything to Jess. He wants to surprise her."
"God, you're so cute. You're adorable. I mean that. Connor O'Rourke, you are a sweet little cookie, that's what you are." She put her hands on her back and sighed.
"You doing okay?"
"Oh, sure. I'm thirty-seven weeks pregnant, I burp like a frat boy and hit my recommended weight gain about four months ago, and yesterday, I broke out in pimples. For the first time in my life, Connor! Faith looked like a goddess when she was pregnant. I look like a bloated hippo corpse."
"I can't disagree, sadly."
She smacked him on the head. "Sorry," he said. "You glow, Dog-Face."
"That's better. How you doing with Dad and Gail and baby makes four?" she asked.
He sighed. "I don't really care a lot. I mean, I'm sure I'll love the baby. I love Savannah. It's just... I don't know."
"You don't feel connected to them."
"Why would I?"
She shrugged, her expression a little sad. "I don't know. He's our father, yada yada. How's the brewery coming? You getting investors?"
"Actually, yeah. Jeremy somehow heard about it--" he cut his sister a look "--and asked if he could buy in. But I have a meeting in a few weeks with some serious money people."
"That's great, buddy! This might really happen, then! Imagine, you doing something without me and not having it be an abysmal failure."
"Really appreciate the confidence." They waved in unison at Lorelei, who was walking out of the bakery with a cake box in her arms.
"Can I give you some advice?" Colleen asked.
"Why ask? You know you're going to."
"Let Jessica do the presentation with the investors. She's gorgeous, you're ugly, she's friendly, you're grumpy and can barely string two sentences together. And, brother mine, she can say great things about you, whereas you'll look grouchy, ugly and pompous if you say them yourself."
"Your faith in me...it's humbling."
"I know what I'm talking about. And you know I know." They were at his house now, where she'd lived until last fall. "Pick that dog up so I can kiss her. If I have to squat, I'll have the baby right here."
He obeyed. "You scared?"
"What? Me? Nah!"
"I'll come to the hospital if you want," he said, and suddenly, his sister's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm terrified," she whispered, and he hugged her, his tiny dog licking Colleen's face.
"You'll be incredible, Collie," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I know what I'm talking about, too. And you know I know."
"Everything will be so different. What if I'm not a good mother?"
"Then give the baby to me."
She sputtered with laughter, then smacked him on the shoulder. "You're a jerk."
"Coll. You don't need to worry about being a good mother. You already are."
Her eyes filled again. "I hate you." It was what they always said when emotions were a little too high.
"I hate you, too. Now, I have to go. You need someone to help you waddle back to the restaurant?"
"No. I think I'll go see Faith so I can sniff Noah's head. I'll just cut across the yard."
"Tell your husband where you are so he doesn't freak out."
"Admit it. You're starting to like him."
"I admit nothing. See you later."
He watched until she was in Faith and Levi's house; their backyard was diagonal to his own. When she was safely inside, he put Lady Fluffy down. "Welcome home," he said. "Try not to get stepped on."
*
AN HOUR LATER, Davey sat in the kitchen with the dog on his lap. If Lady Fluffy could help Connor marry Jess, he'd commission a statue of her to be put in the park, like Balto, the dog who'd brought drugs to the sick kids in Alaska. Gerard had dropped Davey off and then went to the bakery to see Lorelei and said he'd be back around four.
"So you never cook at all," Connor clarified.
"I can use the microwave to soften my ice cream."
"You ever make popcorn or anything like that?"
"No." He scowled.
"Right. I thought we'd start with scrambled eggs. So first rule of the kitchen, wash your hands."
When Davey was clean, which took three tries, because he kept picking up Fluffy, Connor started him on cracking eggs. He had two dozen, since he thought it might be a little challenging.
It was. Davey crushed the first egg, getting it all over his hands. And table. And some on the chair. That was fine; Connor would do a bleach-down of the kitchen later on. "This is gross," Davey said, reaching down to touch Fluffy.
"No touching the dog, remember? You'll get it. Watch this." Connor cracked an egg with one hand.
"So what?"
"So it's one of my few tricks."
"I don't like your tricks." The kid--man--was suddenly angry. The good old internet had said his mood might change on a dime, and for reasons that were unclear to someone unfamiliar with Davey's issues. Little frustrations could build up, then explode.
"Listen, Dave," he said. "I know you don't like me a lot. And you don't have to. But I would really like us to try to be friends, even if it doesn't work."
"I wouldn't like us to be friends. You're a show-off."
Ah. Shouldn't have cracked the egg one-handed.
"I have a question for you about dogs." Redirect. That was one of the bits of wisdom that had been offered again and again. He remembered Jessica asking him about Superman or something when Davey had freaked out that time. Then, it had seemed she should've just told him to knock it off. Now it made more sense. "Do you think Fluffy would like it if I played music?"
"Yes." Davey's tone was sullen.
"Any particular kind?"
"No."
"Like... I don't know. I like the song from the Avengers. You know?"
"That's too scary."
"Right. Um, maybe..."
"'Spirit in the Sky.' That's a good one."
Connor nodded, then got up and wrote it down. "Thanks, Dave."
"Everyone calls me Davey." His tone was back to normal.
"I just thought Dave sounded a little older. Like someone who was old enough to have a girlfriend."
Davey looked down at the table and smiled.
"Here," Connor said, handing him an egg. "Let's try it again."
By the time Gerard came back from the bakery with cupcakes, Davey had successfully cracked three eggs out of fifteen attempts. The kitchen table was slimy, but Connor didn't care.
"What've you been up to, big guy?" Gerard asked, slinging his arm around Davey.
"It's a secret," Davey answered. "So I can surprise Jess. And Miranda!"
Lady Fluffy--that name, God--barked to be let out. At least she was trained.
"Can I go outside with her?" Davey asked, cupping his hands around his eyes to peer out the back door. "It's so pretty out there!"
"Sure." The backyard was fenced in. And, yeah, it w
as pretty. Landscaped with hostas and ferns, a big linden tree in the back, huge vegetable garden that he tended like it was a child. Hey. Connor was Irish. Gardening was a thing.
Davey let the dog out and ran outside with her, the two of them chasing each other.
So this is what it would be like to have a little brother. Or brother-in-law.
"Does Jessica know you're doing this?" Gerard asked.
"No," Connor said. "I'm trying to teach him to cook some basic things. And I'd appreciate it if Jess didn't know. We're gonna surprise her."
"Gotcha. Totally whipped, are you?"
"Yep. Here's your money, pal. Thanks for your time." He took two twenties out of his wallet and handed them to Gerard.
"You could just feed me for free this month," Gerard suggested.
"This will cost less. Thanks again, man." They shook hands, and Gerard left, calling for Davey. Connor got to work scraping up the egg mess, Lady Fluffy amiably licking whatever had fallen to the floor.
"Think this is gonna work, Fluff?" he asked the tiny dog. "Yeah? Me, too."
CHAPTER TWENTY
ON SATURDAY, JESS watched from the window as Connor pulled up in his truck. She jumped back, but he saw her, and a smile spread across his handsome face as he came up the walk.
"Spying on me?" he asked, giving her a quick kiss.
He was way too good-looking. She smiled, then turned and called over her shoulder. "Come on, people! The cows await!"
Connor was taking her and Davey to a 4-H fair up in Penn Yan, part of his attempt to win the heart and mind of her brother. Another guest--her father.
Keith had been solid and steady, coming to drum circle every week, not asking for more, accepting every invitation to dinner. He never had other plans. If she had to cancel, he didn't protest. He practically let her sniff him down like a bloodhound. He never balked at her rules and regulations and left the minute she hinted that he should.
On these visits, Keith spent more time with Davey than with her; Davey had no baggage, so she understood. But sometimes, her father would look at her and she'd see the sadness and regret there, and she'd have to turn away.
Too many times, her father had gotten her hopes up, and she'd believed. That he'd stop drinking. Keep his job. Save money. Stay.
He'd never managed any of those things.
Until now. These past two months were the longest she'd known him to be sober. He did seem different. She wanted to believe. But believing had been bred out of her long ago.
Still, when Connor suggested the 4-H fair, and Davey asked if their father could come, she said yes.
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