Hush, Puppy

by Roxanne St Claire

  On the other end of the line, he heard what had to be a door slammed in anger.

  Okay, so the Shipleys weren’t in agreement. What mattered was he had a verbal acceptance. “I’ll send over a revised contract on Monday and have my attorney open an escrow account for the down payment.”

  This deal was more than fair to them, and George had to know it. Still, the man merely responded with, “Okay, sounds good.”

  Just as he tapped his screen to end the call, he heard footsteps in the hallway.

  “John? You back here?”

  “In Daniel’s office,” he called to his brother Alex, who appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

  “I was just chatting with Summer, and she told me you had good news on Barnard,” he said, stepping inside. “She wouldn’t give me details, though.” He nodded toward the phone in his hand. “That him?”

  Once again, John tunneled his fingers through his hair and dropped onto the leather couch. “No, it was Shipley. He had a counter on the sales proposal, and I had to meet it.”

  Alex made a face, understandably surprised. “What the hell? The deal was always lease-to-buy. How could he even entertain another offer?”

  Alex took the chair across from him, his expression no doubt a mirror of John’s. He’d been John’s partner from before birth, and they might have parted ways as business partners when John bought out Alex’s share in Santorini’s, but not as friends, confidants, and brothers.

  And right now, John could use all three.

  “He can if it’s twenty-five percent higher than mine.” He huffed out a breath and a soft curse. “I hope I didn’t make a huge mistake.”

  Alex’s dark brows drew closer. “Words I rarely hear you say, brother.”

  “Because I don’t usually act on instinct and…emotion. And very little information.” He leaned forward, dropped his elbows on his knees, and gave Alex the short version of what happened that morning with Tom Barnard.

  After he finished, he could see the same doubt that was brewing low in his gut reflected in Alex’s eyes. “Whoa. Seeing a guy’s computer screen? That’s more of a risk than you usually take.”

  “I know. But I ran out of time and options. Other than, you know, the option to walk away and start over somewhere else.”

  Alex grunted, knowing exactly what that meant. “Then…you took a chance. And sometimes you have to. I mean, this is your dream, John. It has been ever since you had to walk away from ChiliHeads. And damn, you work so hard and deserve this.”

  “Thanks. Don’t think I’m not inspired by how you walked away to get what you wanted at Overlook Glen. You’ll have a Michelin-starred restaurant there within a few years, I’m sure of it.”

  Alex tipped his head in gratitude. “First of all, Grace got an incredibly lucky break with that winery, and I got an even luckier break when she fell in love with me. Second, I’m not at the mercy of an investor,” he said, frowning in thought. “Are you sure Summer read that screen right?”

  “I’m trusting that she did,” John replied.

  “Big step for you.” There was no humor in his voice or expression, because Alex knew exactly how big that step was. “I mean, you generally don’t trust anything but your brain.”

  “She’s different.”

  “But I never knew you to trust someone else with a business decision of that magnitude.”

  “She’s different,” he said again.

  “That’s twice. Third time and I’m going to start looking for open dates to book a wedding at the winery.”

  “A wedding?” John choked. “Man, I am not thinking about a wedding.”

  “Then what are you thinking about? No, wait. Better question…what are you thinking with?”

  He narrowed his eyes, ready to argue. But then, was Alex right? “I am feeling a little…” Off-balance. Unnerved. Crushed. “Stressed.”

  “Again, not like you. You just calculate your way through problems.”

  “Yeah, and I hope to hell I didn’t just calculate my way to a twenty-five percent loss on a business concept that doesn’t have an official investor yet.” He dropped back on the sofa, the sigh of the leather matching the one from his lips. “She’s so different,” he whispered, mostly because it felt good to admit that to someone he trusted as much as Alex.

  “And that’s three, ladies and gentlemen.” Alex grinned at him. “Look, bro, I’m not going to talk you out of her. She’s an awesome woman, her kid’s cute as hell, and there’s definitely some serious chemistry between you two. Just be careful with major business decisions, but then, other than peeking at some guy’s computer, she doesn’t have anything to do with your business.”

  Except, she kind of did, since she was once involved with the son of the guy who just squeezed a whole bunch more money out of John.

  “Does she?” Alex asked, always able to read John’s every thought because they were as much the same person as two humans could be.

  “Nah,” he said easily, pushing up. “You’re right, though. I might be thinking with the wrong body part.”

  Alex pushed up, too. “Easy cure for that, you know. I mean, if the thoughts are going both ways, and it sure seems like they are.”

  Yes, it did. But…would that be another impulsive, feeling-driven decision he might regret? “But she has a…history.”

  Alex raised a brow. “Who doesn’t?” Then he lifted a hand as if to correct himself. “Of course, she’s a widow. I forgot. Maybe that makes it harder for her to get involved again?” he guessed.

  “Yeah.” Except her late husband hadn’t entered into the picture once. It was the guy who—for all he knew—could have been in the room with George during that negotiation.

  And that thought actually made him feel a little sick.

  “Hey, listen,” Alex said. “I wanted to see if you’re planning to be here on Sunday. Grace and I are going to bring the dogs for the day, and I know you wanted Destiny to see exactly how big Mav’s going to get.”

  “Oh, Des would love that.”

  Alex frowned. “Uh, the idea was to talk her out of Mav, right? Help her realize he won’t be a lapdog forever?”

  “Sure, but…” He didn’t even want to think about the day he’d have to look that little girl in the eye and take the dog away for good. “We can be here.”

  “Cool.” He put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. You got this. I’ve never actually seen you fail at anything, you know that?”

  He looked at Alex for a long time, considering his words and how many times his twin brother had made that comment. It used to be said with the slightest bit of resentment because John frequently—always—came in first between the two of them.

  “That used to bother you,” he said.

  “Lots of things used to bother me,” Alex replied. “Then I met Grace and…what can I say? She’s different.” He laughed and clapped John’s shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t until they’d finished dinner on John’s patio and Destiny took Mav to the grass to practice the commands she’d learned at camp that Summer remembered something John had said earlier in the day at Waterford.

  “Hey, didn’t you say you had a surprise for Destiny?” she asked as she picked up their plates to take them into the kitchen that had somehow become “hers” in this new and unconventional living arrangement.

  He stayed still, leaning back in his chair, looking up at her with those black-coffee eyes that always seemed to say more than his mouth did. “I do,” he said. “But I don’t want her to take it the wrong way.”

  She made a face, setting the dishes back down and dropping right back into her chair. “What could she take the wrong way? Is it something to do with Mav?”

  “No.” He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “It’s kind of a way to get her to forget softball and reconsider the singing activity.”

  She didn’t answer right away, letting all the responses th
at rose up go to war before she decided which one to seize. Because her first reaction was, Oh my God, why are you so incredibly sweet, and why can’t every man who walks the earth be exactly like you?

  But she went with something that made her feel a little less vulnerable and more like the mama bear she also was. “You know why she doesn’t want to do that, John.”

  “I do. She’s worried about coming in on time with the other singers. And maybe thinking that being watched like that while she performs will make her stutter more.”

  Oh, what the hell? Why not state the obvious? “God, you’re sweet, you know that?”

  He smiled. “All the credit goes to Ella Mahoney, who happens to be in charge of the camp chorus and is still considering a solo for Destiny, but I don’t want to count on that.”

  “A solo? Des would sooner crawl through broken glass.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” he said, shifting in his seat.

  “You might not be as sensitive to her self-consciousness as I am,” she said. “She’s so comfortable with you, and Mav, of course, that she barely stutters, and after a while, you don’t hear it if she does.”

  “I hear it,” he said simply. “But Ella had an idea, and I brought it home, and it’s in the car.”

  “Your idea is a…thing?”

  “Quite the thing,” he said on a laugh. “A small, outdated, very simple, battery-operated, Barbie-approved, incredibly bright pink karaoke machine…thing.”

  She just stared at him, keeping her mouth closed in case something really, really embarrassing popped out, like, Why, yes, I’m in love with you. With each passing second, she could feel herself slipping deeper and deeper, like she could actually drown in how much she liked him.

  He leaned forward, looking a little pleased with himself. “Ella said she and Darcy used to play with it as kids and thought it might be up in the attic at Waterford, and sure enough, there it was. I brought it back with a few cassettes and…” He glanced at Destiny as one of her many giggles floated over to them. “I thought you might want to let her play with it to learn and practice coming in on time.”

  “That would be…awesome.”

  “Maybe perform for us or a smaller group to get her comfortable before Monday. We’re having dinner Sunday at Waterford, remember? Maybe that would be a comfortable place to try it. Maybe she’d like to… What’s wrong? Summer? Bad idea? God, I’m sorry.”

  “No, no.” She croaked the word and lost the fight against the tears in her eyes. One blink, and it was all over. “You just went way past sweet,” she said gruffly, barely able to talk because her throat was so thick.

  It took him a second to figure out what she meant, making him laugh softly. “I thought I’d already reached sexy.”

  “Past that, too,” she managed. “Teetering on irresistible.”

  He reached over the table to touch her hand. “I’m going to take that as a yes, we can let her play with it.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “And you can stop right there.”

  He lifted his brows in question.

  “Because what comes after irresistible is…” Lovable.

  “The kind of thing your brother fast-forwarded through when watching Top Gun with you?” he teased.

  Yeah, let him think it was sex. Because sex would be easier than where her heart was going. She playfully pointed at him. “Exactly.”

  “Let me get the machine,” he said, popping up without a second’s hesitation and making her laugh.

  A little while later, after dinner was cleaned up, Destiny made her way back to the table, her step slowing when she spied the candy-colored box sitting on the table and the plastic microphone next to it.

  “Wh-wh-what is that?” She stayed a few feet away, both riveted and uncertain.

  “It’s called a karaoke machine,” Summer said.

  “For singing?” she asked, the light in her eyes reminding Summer of Isaiah when something had made him really, really happy.

  “Exactly. It used to belong to Miss Ella and Miss Darcy, and John brought it back from Waterford Farm for you to play with.”

  “Really? Just for playing?”

  Oh, she was a smart one. Destiny sneaked a quick peek at John, a little doubt in her eyes.

  “Playing,” Summer said. “Pretending. Performing. Whatever you want it to be.”

  Mav forgotten for a moment, she approached the table like the pink box could be the Holy Grail, or it could be hiding a snake.

  “How do you p-p-play?”

  John had installed new batteries and figured out how it worked while Summer had cleaned up, so he took over, picking up the microphone and holding it out. “You turn this on using this button. Then you talk into it.”

  She took the pink microphone, pushed the button, then stared at it.

  “Say something,” John urged.

  She looked down at the dog. “Hi, Ma—oh!” Her amplified voice coming out of the machine’s speaker surprised her. Then she giggled, and that came out loud, too. “Cool!” she practically screamed, which came out deafening.

  “You don’t have to be loud,” he told her. “That’s what’s so nice about the microphone. It makes you loud even if you want to talk or sing really, really quietly.” He whispered the last two words, just like Destiny did when she didn’t want to stutter.

  Deeper and deeper… Summer could physically feel herself falling for him.

  “Hello, Mav,” Destiny said again, softening her voice, but unable to hide her delight at the sound that came out of the speaker.

  “And the best part is it plays music, too,” he said, choosing his words carefully, as if he sensed—correctly—that he had to take this whole thing slow. “Listen.”

  He pressed the play button on the old-school cassette player, and Destiny watched, fascinated by an archaic technology she most likely had never seen in her whole young life.

  A melody came out, simple and familiar—at least it was to Summer.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now you sing to that.” He inched back and looked up at Summer. “Do you know the words?”

  “Not really,” she admitted, picking up her phone. “I can find them on the internet.”

  “It’s okay, I know them,” he said, adding a quick laugh. “My grandfather used to sing this to Yiayia, so I only know them with a Greek accent, but I know them.”

  Destiny stuck the microphone in his face. “Then sing them.”

  “Oh, I…” He shook his head. “It’s for you to sing, Des.”

  “I want to-to-to hear you. S-s-sing.”

  He let out a soft grunt and took the mic. “Okay.”

  Was there nothing this man wouldn’t do for her daughter? Summer set the phone down and looked at him, affection rising up so powerfully she had to swallow to keep it from choking her up.

  He cleared his throat. He rewound the music. He hit play, took a deep breath, and looked right at Summer, for moral support, she guessed. The machine made a soft beep, and he started singing the first line of “You Are My Sunshine.”

  He laughed at how off-key he was, but Summer didn’t. She barely heard him over her pounding, cracking-open heart.

  Destiny waved him off. “I don’t like those words,” she said.

  John cracked up and handed her the microphone. “Take it up with the guy who wrote the song.”

  She glanced at the mic, waiting a beat until the next chorus started. “You are my Mavvie!” she called out, turning to the puppy. “My little Mavvie. You are the doggy made just for me.”

  John’s jaw slipped open.

  “You and me, Mavvie, will be together… It is our destiny!”

  Both John and Summer broke into applause, Summer a little less stunned than John.

  “How did you do that?” he asked, nothing but wonder and awe in the question. “She’s five!” he said as if Summer didn’t know that.

  “It’s her superpower,” Summer said. “She’s been doing it since she could first sing.”


  “That’s insane. Good job, Des!” He gave her a high five. “Barbie’s karaoke machine is all yours. Oh, and when you hear that little beep at the beginning, that’s when you sing the first word, just like if you were, you know, singing with other people.”

  She gave him the quickest look, as if she knew exactly where he was going with that—the chorus at camp.

  But he deflected by hitting rewind and starting the music again. Before they heard the beep, Destiny impulsively threw her arms around John’s neck and hugged him. He laughed, inching away like the child’s affection was too much for him.

  “Thank you, nice man,” she whispered.

  “Oh…” He patted her back with an awkward touch, but Summer could see the smile on his face, the satisfaction in his eyes. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

  And Summer…was sunk.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aidan turned to John one second after the wheels came to a stop. “Just five more hours on the logbook, and you can do the FAA checkride, take the final exam, and you, my friend, are a pilot.”

  “Thanks, Aidan. For everything.” He gave a genuine smile to the man who was so much more than a flight instructor and stepcousin. “If you hadn’t pushed, I wouldn’t have done this.”

  “Hey, what good is having that flight instructor’s license if I don’t use it? Plus, you are so going to back me up on rescue runs around the state. Garrett’s adoption program is booming, and we got dogs to pick up and deliver constantly.”

  John eyed him, a niggling problem rising up. “Any that might resemble Mav?”

  “You want another…oh.” He laughed. “Yeah, Mav’s been stolen.” Aidan lifted his brows. “How’s Operation Summer Fling going, by the way?”

  He chuckled at the expression. “I crashed and burned the first time,” he joked.

  Aidan, of course, got the Top Gun reference. “And the second?” he countered, knowing the movie like John did. “Listen, take her flying once you’ve passed the last test. It’s an aphrodisiac.”

  “I might,” he said, toggling off the radio before shutting down the engine. Then he huffed out a breath and slid off his headset. “You think I’m ready?”