by Kayla Perrin
“Oh, sorry. I heard the phone, but then completely forgot to check the message. It was a busy night. Rachel introduced me to Austin.” She sheepishly looked down at her feet. “I came to—Oh, my goodness! Sherlock!” Jill squatted and hugged the Beagle who’d appeared at Grant’s side. “Look at you. Oh, you beautiful boy. My beautiful boy.”
With her head buried deep in Sherlock’s neck and her voice muffled, Grant couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. Still, he felt a ridiculous sense of pride in the dog’s recovery. He was always amazed at the resilience of animals to survive adversity. It helped, of course, that Sherlock didn’t know that the surgery wasn’t supposed to have been as successful as it was, or that his paralysis shouldn’t be almost totally reversed. The self-awareness humans possessed could be beneficial in helping them recover from a catastrophic event, but it could also be detrimental if they believed their prognosis to be poor.
“How can I ever thank you?” Jill’s face glowed with joy as tears streamed down her cheeks.
A number of possibilities popped into his head—all of them having to do with Jill being naked. Man, he was a jerk. She was sincerely grateful to him for helping the dog, and all he could think about was carrying her into his bedroom and making love with her over and over again.
He wiped a tear from her cheek and then pulled her to her feet. “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee? We need to talk about what’s next for Sherlock.”
She nodded, rubbed away the remaining tears from her cheeks, and brushed past him.
Set her up with a rehabilitation specialist and let her go. Grant repeated the sentence to himself several times as he followed her into the kitchen. She’s not ready for anything else. That’s what Rachel had said. And besides, it wasn’t as if he wanted a relationship, anyway. It was just that she was so damned sexy … The way her ass moved in those jeans.
Jill had hung her jacket on the back of one of the chairs, taken down two mugs from the cupboard, and poured the coffee. He was struck by how right it felt to have her in his kitchen, how she knew where he kept things, how she handed him a mug as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt good to have her there, to see her smile, to know she didn’t detest him.
Knock it off, Palmer. It’s a cup of coffee not a fuckin’ Nobel Peace Prize.
His attempt to appear blasé toward her comfort in his kitchen was ruined when he took too large a sip and burned his tongue on the piping hot liquid. “Dammit!”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” He put his cup down. “So, if you didn’t get my message about Sherlock, why are you here?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment and she chewed her bottom lip, hesitating. “I actually came here to apologize. I said some really awful things to you after … when we …” She took a shaky breath. “The last time I was here.”
She looked absolutely adorable in her discomfort.
Jill winced. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Grant said. “I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did. It hasn’t been that long since you lost your husband, and with what you’ve been through with Rachel, well … I should have known it was too soon for you.” He took a deep breath and regretted the words before he even uttered them. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”
“Oh … Well, that’s too bad.”
What? Had he heard her correctly? “What did you say?”
Her face flamed red. “Nothing. I’m just being silly.”
He gazed into her eyes, trying to read her mind, ignoring the voice in his head that was yelling at him to just let her go.
“I mean, it was just one night. It’s not like it was a big deal or anything. We’re both adults.” She hugged her arms against her chest and her voice rose in both pitch and pace. “I mean, I’m sure it was nothing to you. You must have lots of girlfriends—do this all the time, right?” The poised, confident woman who had appeared at his front door was gone.
Did she really think so little of him? “When we first met you called me a monster. Should I be happy that I’ve been promoted to heartless gigolo?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She sank onto one of the kitchen chairs and buried her head in her hands. Sherlock nudged her leg and she rubbed his head to assure him she was all right. “I’m making a mess of this.”
“But you do think I’m in the habit of seducing women?” His voice was hard.
“Well, I don’t think I’m the first woman you’ve slept with since your wife left you. Probably not even the second, or third.” Jill raised her head, her eyes challenging him to deny it.
True enough. Grant wasn’t sure why he was so offended by her assertion. Hadn’t he already determined that this was the precise reason he needed to keep his distance from Jill?
Yet, it wasn’t her censure about the number of women he’d been with that infuriated him, but rather it was her contention that she had been nothing more than another notch on his bedpost—that somehow, she hadn’t been any different than the others.
Oh, shit. He turned and stalked out of the kitchen. Now what was he going to do?
“Grant, wait!”
He turned back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Darn it, I keep saying the wrong things.”
“What are you trying to say?” He held out his hand and led her into the living room. When she chose to sit on the couch, he selected the recliner. Even the brief touch of her hand had ignited a fire deep within. He couldn’t imagine trying to have a conversation with her while sitting thigh-to-thigh.
Sherlock rested his cheek on the couch and Jill lifted him up beside her.
Grant frowned.
“Oh, sorry.” She gave Sherlock a conspiratorial scratch behind the ears. “I bet you don’t let the animals up on your furniture, do you?”
“Not usually.”
“Furniture is for people, right?”
“Exactly.”
She smiled mischievously and his heart softened as he realized she was teasing him about their differences of opinion concerning the role and treatment of animals. It was what had brought them together in the first place.
“Austin is planning on moving to Guelph with Rachel,” Jill said.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I think it will be good for her to put the cancer behind her and resume her life.”
“What about you? Can you put her cancer behind you?”
“I don’t think I will ever stop worrying about her,” Jill conceded. “But there’s nothing more I can do for her. I have to stop focusing on her and decide what I want to do with my life.”
“And what is that?”
“I don’t know, for sure, but I do know that I want to take more risks. Everything with Calvin was about planning for the future—a future that never came. And even while I was taking care of Rachel, and I felt I was living day-to-day, I was really only focused on forcing a positive outcome—always worrying about what I had to do in the moment to make sure she’d be okay tomorrow. I don’t want to live like that anymore. I can’t live like that anymore.”
Grant was mesmerized by the motion of Jill’s hand as it gently ran along the length of Sherlock’s back. Suddenly, she stopped and snapped her fingers. Startled, he looked up at her face.
“Are you listening to me?” she asked impatiently.
“I don’t know what you’re asking. What do you mean you want to take more risks? Are you talking about skydiving? Changing jobs? Moving to Bali?”
She sighed in exasperation. “Do you find me attractive? I mean, I think you do—the way you always watch my butt when I walk.”
He thought he’d been subtler than that. “Of course, I do.”
“Enough that you’d want to make love to me again?”
“God, Jill, what are you asking of me?”
She stood and came to stand directly in front of him, fo
rcing Grant to crane his neck to look up at her. She was magnificent. “I’m asking if the night of the firemen’s dance was a one-time thing or whether you’d like to do it, again?”
Grant pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her desperately. He hadn’t thought he’d taste her sweet lips again. She strained against him, so warm and soft, so perfect.
“Oh good, I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” Jill said throatily against his cheek when she paused to catch her breath.
Grant shuddered and forced himself to pull back. He gazed into those lovely whiskey eyes, darkened now with passion. He wanted her more than anything, but he needed to be honest with her. “I’m crazy about you, Jill. Hell, I’m probably three-quarters in love with you. But I just don’t know that I can give you what you want.”
She stroked his cheek. “How can you possibly know what I want when I don’t even know what I want?”
“I just assumed you wanted something permanent, some sort of commitment.”
She shrugged. “Maybe in time. I’m forty-four years old and I’ve only ever been with one other man—my husband. I’m not sure I even know how to be with someone else, so there’s no way I’d ask for a commitment from you when I’m not even sure I can make one myself.”
He hadn’t expected that. It was exhilarating and a little disconcerting, too. He should be relieved that she wasn’t pressing him for more, but instead he found himself wanting her to be certain of him, wanting to be certain of her.
“Can we just see where things lead without doing any planning or too much thinking?” she asked. “I’d like to take the time to just be together. I’ve never done that before, and I’d like to try it—with you.”
“I have a confession to make.” He grinned at her. “I lied before. I am one hundred percent in love with you.”
“Finally something we can agree on.” Jill wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and gazed deeply into his eyes. “Because I’m one hundred percent in love with you, too.”
“I’ll bet I can find something else we can agree on,” Grant grinned wickedly as he gently pulled Jill’s head toward his and kissed her deeply.
Epilogue
Jill stood at the window, waving until the rental van disappeared in the blowing snow. She tried not to focus too much on the trenches its tires had dug into the half a foot of snow that had already fallen since midnight. Rachel was off to begin her new adventure in Guelph. Austin was with her, she’d be fine.
They had sublet a small apartment just off campus. It wasn’t great, but it would do for now. Austin had been offered a temporary teaching position, filling in for a maternity leave, beginning next month. He was hopeful it was the first step to a more permanent position with the local school board. It certainly paid better than tending bar and it also meant he’d be home evenings.
Jill turned away from the window and wandered through the quiet house. She’d miss Rachel terribly, but Guelph was only a few hours away.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to take?” Grant met her in the hallway.
She shook her head and stepped into his arms. “I’m sure. I’ve got everything that has sentimental value. The auctioneers can deal with the rest.”
He kissed her cheek and she snuggled closer. So much for their commitment-free relationship. They’d been together only a week before Grant had asked her to move in with him once Rachel left for school. She hadn’t hesitated. It just felt right.
Rachel had been enthusiastic about Jill’s planned change in accommodation, encouraging her and Grant not to wait. Jill suspected she’d wanted her out of the house sooner, so she could move Austin in before they left for Guelph. But that wasn’t going to happen. Jill was okay with Rachel and Austin living together in Guelph. She wasn’t okay with it under Calvin’s roof. She fully acknowledged she was being old-fashioned—especially since she was planning to move in with Grant—but she still thought of the home as hers and Calvin’s, and she knew her husband wouldn’t have approved.
“I guess that’s it, then,” Grant said. “Do you want a moment?”
Jill looked over Grant’s shoulder into the living room and then down the hallway to the entrance of the kitchen. She didn’t need to walk through the rooms again. Every nook and cranny of this home was etched into her heart. She had been happy here. She’d had a wonderful husband and they’d raised a beautiful daughter. She would never forget.
She wouldn’t stay mired in the past, either. Calvin wouldn’t have wanted her to. It was time to start her new life, with another wonderful man, and build happy memories with him.
She kissed Grant and stepped back. “No, we should get going. I promised Mae we’d stop in for a quick visit after we got Rachel off.”
Mae, her beautiful, brave friend, was battling on. She’d just finished her first round of radiation and the doctors were pleased with her progress. Of course anyone who knew Mae was not the least bit surprised. Her oldest grandson was graduating high school in June and she was determined to attend his commencement ceremony.
They stepped out on the porch. Jill locked the door and pocketed the key. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the scrawny, ragged tabby cat that had been lurking in the neighborhood for the past few weeks. Several times she’d left food out for it, and once she’d managed to pet it before it took off, startled by one of the dog’s barking.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a package of dried liver she kept for animal treats. She shook the package and bent down, calling softly to the cat.
Grant glared at her over the hood of his SUV. “Jill?” he called, cautiously. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh, you’ll scare him.” She stayed very still as the cat approached. No dogs to worry about today, only a big scary vet with a bad attitude. She glanced up at Grant who was shaking his head in dismay.
The cat began purring as soon as she picked him up. He was nothing but skin and bones, and shivering from the cold, poor thing. She carried him to the car.
“What are you going to do with that?” he asked.
“Feed him, to start with,” Jill said, opening the door and sliding in to the passenger seat.
“You can’t bring him into the house. He probably has fleas. He’ll infest the rest of the menagerie you’ve brought over.”
“Then we’ll take him to the clinic and get him checked out first.”
“Who do you think is going to do that?” Grant’s eyebrows rose.
“I know this very sexy veterinarian …” She winked at him.
Grant gave an exaggerated sigh as he closed her door. “You know you can’t save them all, right?” He got into the vehicle.
“I know,” Jill leaned over and kissed his cheek. Their time together had confirmed for her that Grant wasn’t nearly as hard-hearted as he liked to pretend. He held free monthly spay and neuter clinics for pets of homeless people and offered his services to the local humane society. “But we can help the ones in our little corner of the world.”
“Why do I get the feeling your corner of the world is not so little?” Grant started the engine and backed down the driveway.
Jill smiled to herself. She hadn’t heard the end of it, but that was one of the things she loved most about Grant. They both felt free to speak their minds. They could—and did—disagree passionately about many things, but always made up just as passionately as they argued.
This life was so different from the one she’d known before. But it was good, and Jill was happy. She had found true love twice, and both were forever.
About the Author
Brenda Gayle
Brenda has been a writer all her life but returned to her love of fiction after more than twenty years in the world of corporate communications—although some might argue there is plenty of opportunity for fiction-writing there. She has a Master’s degree in journalism and an undergraduate degree in psychology. A fan of many genres, she is drawn to contemporary romance and enjoys creating deeply emotional stories about real women
and their life experiences.
Brenda lives in eastern Ontario with her wonderful husband, two fabulous children, a rescued cat, two Siberian Huskies, and assorted aquatic wildlife.
Connect with Brenda online:
@Brenda_Gayle
facebook: brendagayleauthor
http://www.brendagayle.com/
Devoted To Her Cowboy
C. J. Carmichael
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Joanna D’Angelo who invited me to this project and provided a guiding editorial hand throughout. And to LeeAnn Lessard who initiated this project at Lachesis Publishing. Thanks as well to Brenda Gayle and Kayla Perrin for gracing this anthology with me. I’m honored to have worked with all of you. I’d also like to thank my late mother, Kay Daum, whose love of plants and flowers was my inspiration for Twigs & Sprigs.
Dedication
When I had my hysterectomy over ten years ago, I shared a hospital room with a young woman who’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had to have her ovaries surgically removed. She spent the night crying and though I didn’t know her prognosis, I do know she was facing a future without children, at the very least. This book is for her, and for all the other women who are fighting.
Meaning of Flowers
According to the Farmer’s Almanac (and other various sources) there are hidden meanings behind the usage or gifting of certain herbs and flowers. For the purposes of this story you may be interested to know the following:
Tansy’s symbolic meaning is hostile thoughts
Carnation is a symbol for “Alas for my poor heart”
Lavender stands for devotion and virtue
Hollyhock can be a sign of ambition
Sunflowers denote adoration, loyalty and longevity
Sweet pea is for pleasures
Dahlia has many different meanings including betrayal
Aloe is known for healing
Red Rose is for love, but also seduction
Red Poppy can mean consolation
Willow is for sadness
Myrtle is the emblem of marriage and true love