by Jacie Floyd
And she’d never seen one of those too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good magazine models move that fast for anything less than free drugs, free sex, or free designer clothes. Certainly not to protect an innocent animal.
“I’m sorry.” She shook herself, trying to get a grip on her emotions and return to reality. “I didn’t see her at all. You prevented me from committing involuntary manslaughter—or in this case—dogslaughter.” She offered a small smile, but his expression revealed no appreciation for her attempted humor.
The dog’s protector looked up and perused her with eyes that flared with heated interest and desire before retreating into cool deliberation. To be fair, since she’d been within inches of turning him into road kill, the heat she’d detected could have been more annoyance than interest or desire. But she didn’t think so.
With the full force of his attention turned her way, his appraisal caressed her from the top of the new auburn highlights/mink lowlights she’d splurged on right down to her Pretty-In-Pink painted toenails and all points in between. She basked in another moment of clarity when everything seemed bright and shiny and new. With infinite possibility.
Right up until he shook his head in disgust.
Disgust? She straightened her shoulders indignantly. Really?
Okay, so maybe she’d glorified and magnified her reaction to him. Or his reaction to her. Or both. And even though her hair was frizzing up like a Brillo pad, she didn’t usually generate disgust. Disappointment or disinterest maybe, but not disgust.
But then he blinked and his expression transformed into cool neutrality. Hopefully, it was the disgust she’d imagined, not the interest or desire.
“I intentionally threw myself in front of your car, but here comes the person who’ll demand an apology.” He shrugged. “Brace yourself, this isn’t going to be pretty.”
Chapter Two
A young woman in too-tight denim shorts, unicorn T-shirt, and sequined flip-flops burst from a white clapboard house across the street. Three stair-step children poured out behind her. The screen door slammed in exclamation.
Damp but drying tendrils of hair waved around the freckled faces of the two little girls, maybe six and four years old, both of them wearing shorts over swimsuits. A toddler boy wore droopy, waterlogged Toy Story swim trunks and carried a Buzz Lightyear action figure. The three kids and mom all wailed at varying decibel levels. The dog took the racket as a cue to chime in.
“Are you hurt, Zach? Poor Pippa! Is she dead, Zach? Is she hurt? Please let her be all right. Plee-ease.”
The chaos of shrieking questions and exclamations pierced Harper’s brain with sharp staccato stabs through the temple.
The woman and children all reached the guy named Zach at the same time. Squaring his shoulders, he presented the dog for them to view.
“She’s fine, Brianna. See?” Instead of calming the foursome’s fears, his reassurance incited increased screeching. The dog barked with more force than a dust mop could normally generate.
“What about you, Zach? Are you all right?” Brianna brushed her hand across his back and shoulder in a concerned but totally unnecessary gesture.
Even Harper could see that he was fine. Muscular and fine.
“I’m fine.” His words echoed Harper’s thoughts exactly.
Very, very fine, Harper silently amended, joining the slack-jawed Brianna for a moment of synchronized drooling.
Was it her imagination or did the Very Fine Zach purposefully lean away from Brianna’s touch? Reminding herself that the interpersonal dynamics of the locals were none of her business, Harper wrenched her attention away from the man and focused on the situation.
Her head still reeled from how close she’d come to killing the fur ball. Someone’s pet, in fact. The death would have left her stunned and distraught. More importantly, the children would have been traumatized and heartbroken. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Brianna and the crying kids, trying to block the image of this helpless animal flattened under her tires. “I’m so, so sorry,” she repeated to the puppy. “I didn’t see you there, Pippa.”
She reached out to pat Pippa’s fuzzy little forehead, only to have the dog snap and nip her hand. Harper jerked the appendage back and shook it, feeling slightly less apologetic. “Ow.”
“Don’t try to pretend our precious pet bit you,” the woman ordered. “Your crazy driving behind the wheel of that expensive car could have killed her. I should call Jimbo and file a report!”
“What?” Another wave of confusion and disappointment rolled through Harper’s stomach. Maybe she was light-headed with hunger, maybe she’d hit her head on the steering wheel, or maybe the woman was just plain nuts, but a second encounter with Sunnyside natives was falling short of a Welcome Wagon moment.
“Come on, Brianna. Jimbo brought Jillian and the new baby home from the hospital this afternoon,” Zach said. “He doesn’t need to haul over here to write up an incident report where no harm occurred.”
“No thanks to her.” Brianna pointed an accusing finger in Harper’s direction. “She was driving recklessly.”
“No, I wasn’t! I was well under the speed limit.” She hoped. Harper hadn’t seen any signs with speed limits posted since she got off the highway. “Looking at house numbers.”
“Strangers shouldn’t be driving any which way, not paying attention, on streets where they don’t belong,” Brianna insisted. “Everybody knows dogs and children live on this street. It could have been a child you hit instead of a dog!”
Nausea welled in Harper’s throat at the thought. She opened her mouth to protest the charge again, but Zach stepped in.
“She didn’t hit a dog or a child, Brianna. She wasn’t speeding or driving recklessly, and she’s here to meet me. I assume you’re the new librarian?” He flicked his gaze in her direction again.
“Harper Simmons, that’s me.”
“Harper, this is Brianna Dempsey. The neighbor across the street from your house.”
“Hello.” Attempting to salvage the situation, Harper gave a cordial nod.
Brianna discontinued ogling Zach just long enough to acknowledge the introduction. “Well, the kids and my mother will be happy when the library reopens. I don’t know why they had to hire an outsider to make that happen, though.”
“Without the library grant, Sunnyside can’t afford to maintain it.” Zach’s long-fingered hands smoothed over Pippa with a competent and gentle touch. He gave the puppy’s curly topknot one last ruffle before passing her to the largest of the three children. “Here you go, Khloe.” He stooped to the child’s level and lifted her chin. “Don’t let her out without her leash again, okay?”
Silent tears dripped down the little girl’s scrunched up face. “I didn’t. Leo opened the door. Why do I get blamed for everything?”
“No, I didn’t.” The little boy popped a thumb into his mouth and clamped an arm around his mother’s ample left leg.
“Bella was supposed to be watching Leo,” Khloe continued.
“Nuh-uh.” The younger girl mumbled, scooting over to attach herself to her mother’s right leg and chew on a grubby fingernail.
“No one’s blaming anyone,” Zach told Khloe, “but as the oldest, it’s partly your responsibility to stop the younger ones from letting the puppy out.”
“That sucks,” Khloe said on a gigantic sniff.
As the older sister stuck with trying to keep Fiona in line for years, Harper sympathized with Khloe. And why didn’t Zach task the overbearing mother with the responsibility of keeping the dog inside? “It does suck, doesn’t it?” Harper stooped beside Khloe for another attempt at petting the child’s pet. “I always had to keep an eye on my little sister, too.”
This girl eyed her with suspicion. “You have a little sister?”
Harper nodded. “She’s big now, but she used to get me into trouble all the time.”
“Did you have a puppy?”
“No, but I might get one now that I’m moving to Sunnyside
. Yours is so cute and cuddly.”
Khloe scuffed her toe on the sidewalk. “We love her.”
“That’s right,” Zach said. “And we all have to take care of the people and animals we love, especially a puppy like Pippa since she can’t take care of herself.”
“All right.” The little girl’s shoulders slumped as if he’d shifted the weight of the world onto them. Hugging the puppy to her, she turned to trudge up the driveway. “Come on, Leo and Bella. Let’s take Pippa home.”
“Thank Dr. Zach for saving her,” Brianna instructed.
A sweet duet of “thank yous” floated to them from Khloe and Leo.
Bella turned back and flung her arms around Zach’s knees for a quick hug. “Thank you.” She looked up at him with a dimpled smile that melted Harper’s heart.
Dr. Zach, huh? That made sense. The precise way he’d handled the dog indicated experience with animals. He might be a vet. A very hunky vet, of course. Harper bet lots of women in town, like Brianna, had acquired pets for the pleasure of visiting him.
“Hang on,” he directed Bella and the other two. “Tell Ms. Harper Simmons goodbye.”
Khloe and Leo stopped and waved, leaving Bella to voice their farewells.
It didn’t surprise Harper at all when Bella mispronounced her name. Kids had been doing that for years.
“Bye, Ms. Persimmons.”
“It’s Harper Simmons, honey,” she gently corrected. “Not Persimmons.”
With a shrug, Khloe waved one of Pippa’s paws at her. “Okay, ‘bye, Har Persimmons. Thanks for not running over our dog.”
Ugh. Harper closed her eyes and fought down another wave of mortification.
“Yes, Zach. We’re so lucky you were here.” Brianna smiled warmly at her friend, sparing Harper a momentary glare. The children’s mother pressed a hand to her ample chest. “After I saw the dog had escaped and there was a strange car coming down the street, my heart almost stopped. I couldn’t believe how fast you moved to save her, but Larry always says you were the fastest high school quarterback in Sunnyside history. You never stayed inside the pocket if you had the chance to run.” Brianna’s expression changed from admiration to suspicion as she turned to visually inspect Harper from head to toe. “Nice shoes,” she said, on a begrudging note. “Where’d you get those?”
Harper stuck out a foot and rotated her ankle, so they could all admire her fabulous footwear. The sandals made her legs appear about a half mile longer than they were. She peeked up to see if Zach was looking, too.
He was. Staring, in fact.
Maintaining a neutral expression, he slipped his hands in his pockets. But she once again detected a spark of more than passing interest in the depths of his warm chocolate eyes.
“They were a gift,” Harper didn’t mention they came to her straight from the designer’s workshop. That was one of the perks of India’s job that would probably make matters worse with the resentful Brianna. Don’t stir the pot. You’re going to have to live across the street from this witch.
Her neighbor pursed her lips in distaste. “Who gives someone a gift like that?”
“My mother, actually.” Harper smiled and shrugged. “She’s very stylish. And generous.”
“Hmmpf,” Brianna sniffed. “You won’t need fancy shoes around here. Most of us wear Keds or flip-flops. And just remember, you better not speed on this street anymore.”
“I wasn’t speeding.”
“Not helping,” Zach muttered. With a kung-fu grip on her elbow, he tugged her across the street under Brianna’s watchful eyes. “Tell Larry there’s a bus trip being planned for a Cardinals game next week,” he called back to her. “If he wants to go, have him contact Wayne at the Lucky Dog.”
“Will do.” Brianna fired one final shot. “Have that woman move that foreign car out of the middle of the street.”
“Moving it now, Brianna.”
“Ease up.” Harper pulled her elbow out of the vise-like grip he had on it and slid into the driver’s seat. “What’s wrong with your friend? Is she always that contrary?” That bipolar?
“She has her problems.”
“Don’t we all? Why does that give her the right to—”
He cut her off with a gesture of his hand. “Pull into your driveway.”
She was glad he’d stopped her. Not her place to criticize the locals, her new neighbors, and, hopefully—possibly—future friends. Besides, her heart gave a happy little shimmy as his words registered. Her driveway!
He was waiting on the steps when she hopped out of the car. “Is this really mine?” Unable to stop smiling, she reached her front porch. Her first very own front porch.
“It really is.” A reluctant grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Or, it really will be. Temporarily. Eventually.”
She stopped smiling and crossed her arms over her chest. “What does will be mean? Temporarily? And eventually? I mean, I have a pretty good grasp of the English language. Just tell me what they mean in this context.”
“Temporarily means that you’re allowed to live here while you fulfill your contract under the terms of the library grant.” He took a deep breath as if gathering strength before presenting unhappy news, but he met her gaze head-on. “Will be and eventually mean the renovations we’ve been working on aren’t finished. It’s not ready for you to move in.”
“It looks finished.” She peered about, trying to take in everything at once. The door, the windows, the brick. The gorgeous stained-glass transom.
“The exterior’s as good as it’s gonna get. Inside, we waited to refinished the floors after everything else was complete, but they didn’t get the polyurethane seal on them until Friday, so they aren’t set.”
“Hardwood floors?” A definite case of giddiness gripped her. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she pressed her face against a window for a peek inside. “They’re gorgeous!”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged those really-fine broad shoulders. “The smell is still noxious, and they haven’t set long for normal use.”
She tried hard not to let her disappointment show. “Would you unlock the door so I can get a better look?”
“Turn the knob.” He shrugged again when she looked at him in surprise. “It’s not locked, Chicago.”
She laughed. This not-locking-the-door world would take some getting used to.
The shiny brass looked just-polished and original to the house. Firm and solid and welcoming in her hand. With the door pushed open, the refinishing fumes hit her full in the face, but she stooped down to view the floors more closely. Wide pine planks in a dark honey finish glowed with age and fresh shine. “Original flooring?”
“When we pulled up the wall-to-wall carpet my Great-Aunt Sylvia installed in the Sixties, this is what we found underneath.”
“Beautiful.” Harper’s palms itched to smooth them over the wood. “Oh! The living room has a fireplace. Is it wood-burning? In workable condition?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, my God. Somebody pinch me.”
“Love to.” Zach reached toward her shoulder with his thumb and forefinger at the ready then laughed when she looked at him in surprise. “Just kidding.”
“Right.” With anyone else, she would have taken the comment as flirting. But with this guy, Mr. Inscrutable, she wasn’t so sure. The deep, throaty sound of his laugh wrapped around her and provided a sense of welcome for the first time that day. “What’s beyond the living room?”
“Dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and master bedroom down. Screened porch behind the kitchen. Two bedrooms up with a full bath. It’s not fancy, it’s not finished, but once the floors are set, it’ll be livable.”
“And until then?”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.” With his hand on the back of his neck, he craned it from one side to the other like he needed to work out some kinks. “I’ve been away and didn’t know about this screw up until a couple of hours ago. There hasn’t been time to arrange for you to stay anyplace
else.”
“Okay.” With a house like this in her very near future, she could handle temporary digs for a few days. Her furniture wouldn’t arrive until Tuesday or Wednesday anyway. “I don’t mind going to a hotel.”
He exhaled a small huff. “Says the city girl.”
She raised her eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
“In Chicago, you’d have hundreds of hotels to choose from. In Sunnyside, there are only two, and you can’t stay at either one.”
She looked up at him—from her vantage point at his feet. A long way up and kind of a compromising position, planting a pretty suggestive picture. So, no. She’d prefer to conduct this discussion with a semblance of equality.
The majorly cool sandals she had on gave her all kinds of confidence, but they were not great for gliding gracefully to her feet. She almost took a tumble head first into his groin. Before she made the face-plant, he grabbed her elbow to steady and help her up.
Ignoring the little zing his touch created, she focused on the fact that he’d touched her twice already—admittedly just her elbow, but still, he had touched her—and she didn’t even know who he was. Sure, she knew his first name and title. Dr. Zach, animal lover and probably a veterinarian. But other than that, and the fact that he was a former Sunnyside football high school quarterback, had magnificent shoulders, sexy bedroom eyes, and apparently reno-ed houses in his spare time, he was a mystery.
“Why not?” She pulled herself back on task.
“The Best Western’s temporarily closed from a minor fire a couple of days ago, and the Sunnyside Inn… Well, I might as well tell you since everyone knows anyway. The Health Department shut it down this morning due to bedbugs.”
“Bedbugs.” She tried not to shiver. “Thanks for the warning.”
“The next available hotel’s on this side of Springfield, about an hour away.”
“An hour, huh?” Not optimum, but doable. “What about a bed and breakfast, room to rent, boarding house, something like that?”