Jeremiah swallowed and reached for the handle.
Inside, the quiet rumble of conversation melded with the clinking of glasses and silverware. The hostess smiled from behind her podium. “May I help you?”
“Hi. Um, McIntyre?” Jeremiah’s hands were clammy and he fought the urge to wipe them on his pants.
“Of course. The rest of your party is already seated. Right this way.” She slipped from behind the podium and glided through a doorway into the main restaurant.
Jeremiah followed behind her, eyes scanning the tables. There she was. He couldn’t help the grin. Everything about her shone like a beacon in the night.
The hostess stopped at the table and, with another smile, headed back toward the front of the restaurant.
Jeremiah cleared his throat as Deidre glanced up and met his gaze. “Hi.”
“Jeremiah.” Deidre half stood, then settled back into her chair, her expression cooling. “What brings you here?”
He licked his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Claire’s encouraging nod. “I got your text, but I thought it seemed like something we ought to talk about in person.”
Deidre’s father stood and offered his hand. “Since my daughter seems to have misplaced her manners, you must be Jeremiah.”
“Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jeremiah shook his hand and managed a weak smile for Deidre’s mother. “Ma’am.”
“Have a seat, won’t you?” Deidre’s mother pointed to the empty chair next to Deidre. “They should be bringing the meat around soon. I hope you’ll join us.”
“I’d like that very much. Thank you.” He pulled out the chair and, as he sat, leaned close to Deidre and whispered, “To answer your question from this morning, I very much hope so.”
She blinked and turned toward him, mouth slightly open.
How he wanted to lean in just a little more and kiss her. But her father was watching with eagle-eyed interest. As was the rest of her family. So he simply smiled, took the napkin from the center of his plate, and spread it over his lap.
“So, Jeremiah, what brings you up this way? You live down near Peacock Hill, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. I actually came up because Deidre texted me this morning, so I called Claire and she suggested that I join you for supper.”
Deidre’s mouth dropped open again. “Claire?”
Claire smiled. “Duncan knew too.”
Duncan lifted his water glass and toasted Jeremiah from across the table. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things.”
Had he? From whom? It didn’t seem like Deidre had been talking him up to her parents. So, Claire? “Thanks. Likewise.”
Duncan chuckled. “If I know Dee, all she said was that I’m a landscaper.”
She hadn’t even really said that much. Just that her brother loved his job in D.C. but that things weren’t going so well. Jeremiah shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s the nature of little sisters. At least mine. They don’t want me to get a big head.” Duncan sipped his water.
“What did Deidre text you about?” Her dad crossed his arms in front of him on the table.
“Well, sir, Deidre and I just started dating. But our relationship is new enough, we hadn’t really sat down and defined it. That’s my fault. I didn’t make my intentions clear.” Jeremiah shifted and caught Deidre’s eye. “I’m sorry. I would very much like to date you. Exclusively. I have feelings for you. And I hope you feel the same.”
Pink stole across her cheeks as Deidre nodded.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Deidre’s father shook his head and mumbled what sounded like “young people these days.”
Jeremiah smothered a smile and reached for Deidre’s hand.
She curled her fingers through his. “I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
Deidre nestled against Jeremiah’s shoulder as they sat on the gliding rocker on the patio behind Deidre’s parents’ house. It was just about perfect. A lovely spring evening with his girl by his side.
“I’m glad you came up. I should’ve called instead of texting though. I really don’t know why I try.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I think it’s cute.”
She made a rude noise. “Sure. Just wait ‘til it gets really embarrassing.”
“No group texts. Then it won’t matter.”
“That’s a deal.” She sighed and shifted. “I could stay like this forever.”
Forever. It’s what he wanted too, despite being entirely too soon to be thinking that way. “Why don’t we work on making that happen?”
“Really?” Her eyes filled with hope.
“Really.” He wrapped his arm around her, drew her close, and lowered his mouth to hers, sealing their future with a kiss.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading A Heart Restored! I hope that you enjoyed it! I would appreciate it if you’d help others enjoy it too by leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and any other retail site you frequent. Word of mouth is how most people say they find new books to read, so I’d love it if you’d also consider telling your friends about it. Any success my books have is owed to readers like you who take the time to tell others about my stories. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Big thanks to Heather Gray and Krista Phillips for heading up this box set, and for including me in it. I’m so grateful to know you ladies and call you friends.
You can always keep up to date with my writing news via my newsletter. There’s a sign-up form at my website http://bit.ly/2g0AGvf and also on my author Facebook page http://www.Facebook.com/ElizabethMaddrey.
I continue to owe a huge debt of gratitude to my husband and sons for giving me the time to write, my sister for her unflinching support and encouragement, and my critique partners Lynellen Perry, Heather Gray and Jan Elder for catching all the times I use the same word six times in two paragraphs.
More than anything, I’m grateful that God continues to give me words and makes it possible for me to write them down.
I’d love to hear from you! You can connect with me on Facebook my webpage or via email.
About Elizabeth Maddrey
Elizabeth Maddrey began writing stories as soon as she could form the letters properly and has never looked back. Though her practical nature and love of computers, math, and organization steered her into computer science at Wheaton College, she always had one or more stories in progress to occupy her free time. This continued through a Master’s program in Software Engineering, several years in the computer industry, teaching programming at the college level, and a Ph.D. in Computer Technology in Education. When she isn’t writing, Elizabeth is a voracious consumer of books and has mastered the art of reading while undertaking just about any other activity.
Elizabeth is the author of more than ten books, both fiction and non-fiction. She lives in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. with her husband and their two incredibly active little boys.
Website: http://www.ElizabethMaddrey.com
More Books by Elizabeth Maddrey
The “Operation Romance” Series
Operation Mistletoe
Operation Valentine
Operation Fireworks
Operation Back-to-School
The “Taste of Romance” Series
A Splash of Substance
A Pinch of Promise
A Dash of Daring
A Handful of Hope
The “Grant Us Grace” Series
Joint Venture
Wisdom to Know (free on all e-book platforms)
Courage to Change
Serenity to Accept
©2017 by Elizabeth R.R. Maddrey
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical revie
ws or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Scripture quoted by permission. Quotations designated (NIV) are from THE HOLY BIBLE: NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica. All rights reserved worldwide.
Cover design by Elizabeth Maddrey.
Cover art photos ©iStockphoto.com/photosbyandy, ©iStockphoto.com/fotostorm, ©iStockphoto.com/eltoddo used by permission.
Published in the United States of America by Elizabeth Maddrey
www.ElizabethMaddrey.com
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Unleashing Love
Jessica R. Patch
A man groomed to take over a multi-million dollar company.
A woman who professionally grooms and walks fur babies.
And one Great Dane that will unleash the opportunity of a lifetime.
Emma Kate Lambert is stuck in a rut and could use some extra cash, so when the man she’s dubbed ‘Mr. Money’ shows up at her doggie boutique clueless and desperate for a full-time sitter—and offering a huge chunk of change—she agrees. But when she arrives, expecting a fur baby, she’s greeted with a sweet nine-month-old baby girl instead.
Griffin Noble has zero intentions of keeping his deceased sister’s child. He travels often with his job, and refuses for her to grow up in a home like he did—where parents are nonexistent. Reluctantly, and out of a copious amount of guilt, he agrees to temporary relative placement. But he never expects the sassy dog walker with a southern drawl or his little dark-haired niece to make a permanent residence in his heart.
Torn by lifestyles that are worlds apart, Emma Kate and Griffin will have to brave a sacrifice for each other, but if they’re willing, it might just unleash a love of a lifetime.
Dedication:
To Vickie Carroll: I am blessed to have you in my life. I treasure our weekly coffee chats.
And to Jesus my Lord & Savior. For Your glory always.
Acknowledgments:
To the Patch Pack: Thank you for helping me brainstorm and encouraging me to write this story.
To Susan Tuttle: You are my sounding board. Enough said.
For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.
Isaiah 43:19 NLT
Chapter 1
Just once Emma Kate Lambert wanted to be the center of the sandwich and not the crust. But she couldn’t even catch a break from a dog.
“Creed, slow down, ya big goon.” She loved walking the Kents’ Great Dane but he jerked her along like a rag doll. More times than not he broke loose, sending her on a wild dog chase since he’d charge any moving target. Men. Women. Children. Other dogs. It was the absolute worst since the last thing Emma Kate was good at was running. Although, she did just purchase some sweet new tennis shoes that were supposed to add extra support. Mostly she liked the fact they were pink. Pink was her favorite.
Creed wasn’t giving her the slip tonight. She’d brought a new leash from work. Bright pink—of course—rubber grip and a monster hook that attached to Creed’s collar. Without worrying over him getting away, she could admire Gold Coast’s beauty and dream about what it would be like to live in the wealthiest neighborhood in Chicago. Emma Kate barely made ends meet walking dogs and working at Fur De Leash doggie boutique.
But she did adore the high rises, row houses…and if she timed it just right, Mr. Money. Now he was something to behold. Physically flawless. Michelangelo couldn’t have sculpted him any better. Coal black hair with a little curl. Piercing blue eyes. Typically clean-shaven.
She imagined he had a deep but soft voice. He’d never actually spoken or given her the time of day. Not even a hello. Totally rockin’ the I-wanna-be-left-alone vibe. And she’d never offered a greeting either. A guy like him was out of Emma Kate’s league. He probably ate wheat grass and organic fruit. She was more of a preservative laced and Ramen kind of girl. He lived in a row house in Gold Coast for crying in a bucket and drove an Aston Martin Vanquish. Probably had a MBA from some prestigious college.
Once upon a time, Emma Kate had planned to go to business school and open up her own doggie shop and grooming service in the place she loved most—her hometown of Sweet Gum, Mississippi. But those dreams got flushed down the toilet.
Chicago wasn’t so bad, though, even on nights like last night when she’d stood by and watched as singles showed up at Fur De Leash for the doggie mixer. Men and women hit it off. Met their matches.
Not Emma Kate. One, she was on the clock not on the social calendar, and two, she wasn’t ready to trust a single person with her heart. Not after Travis ripped it to shreds before she moved here five years ago.
She growled at the memories. At Creed. Forty-five minutes of being yanked around by him had turned her into a hot mess. The June weather didn’t help. Not that it was terribly hot, but the tip of her ponytail had cemented to the back of her neck and her Fur De Leash T-shirt was damp. Her wrist ached and her fingers had leash-burn.
But her feet felt great.
She rounded the corner; a small breeze off Lake Michigan cooled her face. She relaxed a fraction.
Just. a. fraction.
Creed tore loose from her grip and sprinted down the sidewalk, Emma Kate racing after him as the hot pink leash blew behind him like a string to a balloon lost to the sky. “Creed, you big pain in the butt! Get back here!”
As if on cue, Mr. Money himself stepped from the curb onto the sidewalk.
Oh no. He was early. And he was moving.
Prime target.
A woman she’d seen with him before was right behind him. Tall. Dark hair. Exotic. Of course. She froze. Mr. Money kept walking.
“Creed!” Emma Kate wailed. “Abort mission!”
She pushed harder to catch him to no avail.
Mr. Money whipped his head in her direction, utter panic flashing in his stunning blue eyes.
“Griff!” the woman shrieked.
Emma Kate skidded to a halt as the horror show unfolded.
Like slow-mo on a cell phone camera, Creed barreled into Mr. Money, looking way sleek and sexy in black suit pants, a white dress shirt rolled to the elbows—the top button undone.
His suit coat that he’d been draping over his right shoulder fell to the ground as Creed swept the man’s legs right out from under him without missing one doggie beat.
He landed in a patch of grass and his back slammed into the tree growing out of it.
Emma Kate winced. That was gonna leave a mark. Sweet Lord, what do I do?
Creed raced up the steps to his condo and copped a squat, tongue lolling. He looked at Emma Kate as if she were a child who couldn’t keep up. “You rotten…” she muttered. The dog was driving her to a bowl of instant creamed potatoes tonight. Some folks dug on chocolate. Emma Kate preferred starchy goodness to relieve stress.
She focused on Mr. Money who hadn’t moved. Oh man, he might be seriously hurt. Taking a few hesitant strides in his direction, she rubbed her clammy hands on her hot pink leopard print compression capris. “Sir, are you hurt?” Because that landing wasn’t going to get him into the Olympics.
He rubbed his left ear lobe, dazed and confused as he glanced toward Creed, back to Emma Kate, then to the woman standing behind him.
“Griff? You okay?” the lady asked and glared at Emma Kate.
“I’m fine, Evie,” he said. She looked like an Evie.
His silver oversized watch glinted with the final hints of sunlight. He gaze traveled to the stairs leading to the condo, and he watched the dog with cautious eyes again. “Go put that thing on a leash,” he seethed.
And he speaks. Deep voice
. Really ticked. Couldn’t blame him. “Well, in full disclosure, he is on a leash.” She tossed him an apologetic smile, and he sized her up. From her toes right up to her face. Most likely he saw uber-flushed cheeks, streaked mascara, and a sweat ring around the collar of her Fur De Leash T-shirt. “I’m really sorry. He got away from me.” Again. But she’d leave that out.
“Way to state the obvious,” he griped.
“I can make him come apologize.” It was keeping him from running loose she had trouble with. She turned to Creed. “Creed, you come here and say you’re sorry. And don’t make me count. Come—”
“No!” Mr. Money boomed. “Leave him there. I don’t want him anywhere near me.” He absently rubbed his left earlobe again and finally stood, looming over her own five foot four frame. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. He smelled every bit as irresistible as she’d imagined. Like money and power and masculinity…and her head went fuzzy.
“Did you hear me?” His sharp tone smacked her into reality and she frowned. Hurt or not. Money or not. Nobody gave her that tone but Daddy. And he sure wasn’t her daddy.
“Hey, I said I was sorry.” Why did he have to go and speak, ruining her dreamy imaginations of him. “I’m sure his owners are willing to pay for any dry cleaning or suit repairs you need.” He’d probably take her up on it too.
He dusted off his backside, and regardless of her irritation she couldn’t help noticing. “Keep that mutt away from me. And if you aren’t strong enough to contain him…stick to poodles.” He stormed by her, Evie right behind.
Of all the nerve!
“Just so you know he peed in that patch of grass about an hour ago. He’s a big dog so…big bladder.” She should’ve kept her mouth shut. Lord knew Mama always told her that. Your mouth has a mind of its own, Emma Kate Lambert, and one day it’ll get you good.
She picked up her pace and strode to the steps of her clients’ condo, giving Mr. Money one last sidelong glance, and she couldn’t be sure—it was dark and all—but she almost thought she caught a smirk.
“And you should mind your manners,” she added. “And you too,” she muttered to Creed.
He turned the key in his lock and opened his door, then raised an eyebrow. Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid. That’s who he resembled. Only not so cartoony and broader.
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