Читать онлайн книгу «A New Leash On Love» автора Melissa Senate

A New Leash On Love
Melissa Senate
Will true love strike twice…?Army vet Matt Fielding is finding a puppy for his niece. Even if it means encountering ex Claire Asher —spotted at the local animal shelter! He can’t refuse her offer of puppy training, but soon their reunion brings back memories and sparks fly!


Will true love strike twice...
...at the Furever Paws shelter?
Army vet Matt Fielding is back—for good—and finding a puppy for his niece. He’s also avoiding Claire Asher, his high school ex—spotted at the local animal shelter! He can’t refuse her offer of puppy training, but soon their friendly reunion brings back memories of their teenage love, and sparks fly. Will their rekindled affair lead Matt to put a ring on it?
MELISSA SENATE has written many novels for Mills & Boon and other publishers, including her debut, See Jane Date, which was made into a TV movie. She also wrote seven books for Mills & Boon under the pen name Meg Maxwell. Her novels have been published in over twentyfive countries. Melissa lives on the coast of Maine with her teenage son; their rescue shepherd mix, Flash; and a lap cat named Cleo. For more information, please visit her website, melissasenate.com (http://www.melissasenate.com).
Also by Melissa Senate (#u26648ece-d95a-541d-815a-7087705a8363)
The Baby Switch!
Detective Barelli’s Legendary Triplets
A Cowboy in the Kitchen
The Detective’s 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise
The Cowboy’s Big Family Tree
The Cook’s Secret Ingredient Charm
School for Cowboys
Santa’s Seven-Day Baby Tutorial
Mummy and the Maverick
The Maverick’s Baby in Waiting
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A New Leash on Love
Melissa Senate


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09058-2
A NEW LEASH ON LOVE
© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dedicated with appreciation to animal shelters
and rescue organizations worldwide.
Thank you for all you do.
Contents
Cover (#ub41935ab-e417-5152-b994-267581166d28)
Back Cover Text (#u942f6386-95cb-5fa0-8117-3334296305f8)
About the Author (#u29ddfb8f-be89-544e-9695-cbea2bcb1e71)
Booklist (#u930be378-e351-5533-a7fd-032247d4168e)
Title Page (#u86b3e7a9-6b04-5614-9c5f-91a02a9fc375)
Copyright (#u7146ef59-7e75-578a-9697-5b184165908f)
Dedication (#u8bdd1acb-bbb9-5f8a-939e-4acf05eae421)
Chapter One (#u828cfaa8-ea06-5bed-a174-4e0a3d95bc8e)
Chapter Two (#u8214792e-3172-54e1-b93c-08d65d4eefd9)
Chapter Three (#ue2a9a205-4388-5789-b452-0f6a9f895fde)
Chapter Four (#uff7d4920-0ac2-5e2e-998c-02965c7523d4)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u26648ece-d95a-541d-815a-7087705a8363)
The gray-muzzled, three-legged Lab mix gnawing on a chew toy in his kennel at the Furever Paws Animal Rescue sure reminded Matt Fielding of himself. The dog was big, and so was Matt, at six foot one, with muscles honed by the United States Army. Matt wasn’t missing a leg, but he’d come scarily close, an IED injuring him to the point that he’d been medically retired three months ago, spending that time—until yesterday—in base rehab. He had only a slight limp now, but kneeling down in front of the old dog’s kennel had taken a good fifteen seconds.
I’d take you home in a heartbeat, Hank, he thought, his gaze on the dog’s chart. The ten-year-old was an “owner surrender.” Among the sadder words, for sure. His heart went out to the old guy stuck in this limbo between homes—like Matt was. But his sister would kill him if he walked through the door of her pristine house with a huge senior dog. And getting on her bad side right now wasn’t a good idea.
The former army corporal had his order—and it was to find his sister’s eight-year-old daughter, Matt’s adored niece, Ellie, a suitable puppy. Suitable, of course, was a relative term. Old Hank might have spoken to Matt’s soul, but he wasn’t here to find himself a dog. Pets required commitment and a solid home, not a guy who had no idea where he’d be a week or two from now. Thirty-six and his life up in the air. If anyone had told Matt, so focused from the time he joined the army at eighteen, that one day he’d be at a loss for what came next, he wouldn’t have believed it. Until three months ago, he was the US Army. Now, he was a civilian. With a slight limp.
It’s barely noticeable and is symbolic of your service, so don’t let it get you down, his sister had said yesterday when he’d arrived back in his hometown of Spring Forest, North Carolina, for the first time in five years. Little Ellie had saluted him, and he’d swept her up in a hug. But living in his sister’s guest room, despite his adorable niece telling him knock-knock jokes that made no sense but still made him laugh, wasn’t ideal. He needed to figure out what came next.
Right now, though, he needed to focus on his mission. One thing at a time, one moment at a time, his doc and the nurses at the rehab had said over and over.
So, back to suitable pups.
“Hank is one of my favorites,” a woman said, and Matt almost jumped.
He knew that voice. He turned to the left and looked up, and standing not ten feet away was Claire Asher.
Claire.
From the look on her beautiful face, it was obvious she hadn’t realized it was him. For a moment he couldn’t find his voice. All he could do was take in the sight of her, his chest tight and his throat closed. He’d spent so many nights over the past eighteen years thinking about her, wondering how she was, where she was, if she was happy, his memories getting him through some iffy times. And now she stood almost within reach, pale brown eyes wide, mouth dropped open.
She had a leash in her hand and a big cinnamon-colored dog in a purple polka-dotted harness beside her. A boxer, maybe? Matt wondered, finding it easier to focus on the dog than the woman—who was staring at him with the same shock that had to be on his face.
“Matt?” she said, wonder in her voice.
The dog next to her tilted her head, his dark-brown ears flopping to the right.
He nodded and stood up, which took the same fifteen seconds getting down had. “I’m here to find a dog for my niece.” Going through his mind was, You look amazing. How are you? I’ve thought about you constantly. What are you doing here? I’ve missed you. Thank God none of that had come rushing out of his mouth.
“Ellie,” she said, surprising him. “I’ve run into your sister a few times over the years.”
He nodded, his gaze going to her left hand. No ring. Hadn’t he heard she’d gotten married a while back?
“You look great, Claire.” She really did. Tall and as slender as she’d been back in high school, she was the Claire Asher he remembered—would never forget. Her silky, wavy, light blond hair was shoulder-length instead of halfway down her back, and the faintest of crinkles at the corners of those green eyes spoke of the passage of years. The last time he’d seen Claire she was seventeen. Now, she was thirty-five.
“Are you on leave?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m a civilian now. Just got back in town yesterday. I’m staying with my sister for a bit. In fact, my sister is why I’m here. She and her husband promised Ellie a puppy for her birthday next month, so I told Laura I’d scout it out. I heard great things about Furever Paws just from asking about pet shelters at the coffee shop.”
Claire beamed. “It’s a very special place. I volunteer here.” She gave the dog beside her a pat. “This is Dempsey. I’m fostering her until she finds a forever home.”
“A furever home,” he said, pointing at the rectangular wooden sign on the wall with the message in silver script: Where furbabies find their furever homes.
She smiled—that beautiful Claire Asher smile that used to drive him wild.
“If only you’d come in yesterday or this morning,” she said. “Every Saturday and Sunday we hold adoption events here at the shelter. Four puppies found forever—furever—homes, plus five adult dogs and five cats.”
“So these dogs in the kennels weren’t chosen?” he asked, eyeing Hank, who was still chewing on his toy bone.
“Not this weekend. But we get a crowd every Saturday and Sunday, and sometimes it takes a while to find an ideal match. That’s the most important part of the process—that the match be just right, for the pet and the adoptive family.”
He nodded. “Is there a match for an eight-year-old girl whose requirements are ‘super cute, snuggly and won’t destroy a prized stuffed animal collection’?”
Claire laughed. “Follow me. I think I know just the pup.” She led him down the row of kennels to the end. A puppy was spinning circles in the kennel, chasing her tail and letting out loud yips.
“My ears,” Matt said with a smile. The puppy sure ticked off the “adorable” requirement. A springer spaniel mix, according to the chart, five months old, she was chestnut-brown and white with long, ruffled, floppy ears. Ellie would go nuts over her.
“Yeah, that’s why she’s still here. She yipped for twenty minutes straight at both adoption events. Including every time someone came near her kennel. She’s only been here a few days, though. Another volunteer and I have been working with her a bit. She just needs some training. She’s very sweet.”
And loud, Matt thought. And...active. “Does she ever actually catch her tail and stop spinning?”
Claire laughed again. “Yes. Peanut butter treats get her to do anything.”
“Would she be right for Ellie?” he asked. “My sister likes calm and orderly. I think she wants an old dog in a puppy’s body.”
“Well, it’s important to match temperaments, and puppies can be trained, but puppies are puppies—little kids. They make noise, they’re super active, they eat shoes.”
“Ellie never ate a shoe, far as I know.”
She laughed and touched his arm, the most casual gesture, but the feel of her fingers on his skin sent a lightning bolt through him. Standing here with her, her hand on him, it was as if they’d never broken up. Claire and Matt, high school sweethearts, married with four kids, four dogs, four cats—that was how many Claire had said she wanted of each. Plus a parrot and lovebirds. And a box turtle. He could go on.
Sometimes, over the years, late at night, Matt would berate himself for breaking up with Claire after graduation. He’d told her he needed to be focused on being the best soldier he could be, leaving it at that, and the pain on Claire’s face had almost made him tell her the truth. That he wasn’t and had never been and never would be good enough for her, that he’d hold her back, keep studious, bookish, intelligent Claire from fulfilling her big dreams of leaving Spring Forest for the big city. Matt wasn’t a big city guy, and he’d planned to be career-army. Now, he didn’t know what he was. Too many rough tours of duty, first as a soldier, then as a mechanic on dangerous missions, had left him...broken.
And here in Spring Forest, he didn’t recognize himself or belong.
Focus on the mission, not yourself, he ordered himself. “I think my sister wants a temperament like Dempsey’s,” Matt said, gesturing at Claire’s foster dog. The pooch was sitting, hadn’t made a peep and didn’t react in the slightest to the commotion around her.
“Dempsey is the best,” Claire said. “A couple months ago, she was found chained outside an abandoned house. I don’t think she ever had a home before I took her in, so I’ve worked hard at acclimating her to the good life—which means passing muster on housetraining, manners, obedience, the whole thing. Now she’s ready for a home, but she keeps getting passed over.”
She knelt down beside the boxer and gave her a double scratch on the sides of her neck, then a kiss on her brown snout. Claire shook her head and stood up, her gaze on the dog.
He might not know Claire anymore, but a stranger could tell how much she loved that dog.
“Can’t you adopt her?” he asked.
“I always want to adopt every dog I foster, but that’s not my calling here,” she explained. “Fostering is about preparing dogs for adoption so they can find homes. If I adopted every dog I fostered, I’d have over twenty at this point. Plus, every time a dog I work with finds a home, I can foster a new pooch.”
“Must be hard to let them go,” he said. “Don’t you get attached?”
“Definitely,” she said. “But because we do such a good job of matching furbabies and adoptive parents, I know they’re going to a great home. I do worry about how attached I am to Dempsey, though. I can’t explain it, but we definitely have a special bond.” She gave the boxer mix another scratch on the head, and the dog looked up at her with such trust in her eyes, even Matt’s battered heart was touched. “Oftentimes, that bond is there right away.”
“I had no idea about any of this,” he said. “There’s more involved in choosing a dog than I realized. Can you help me find the right puppy for Ellie?”
“Of course,” she said. “There are a few other puppies here that Ellie might like, but they all need some training. Maybe you can bring Ellie back with you and we can see who she bonds with. Furever Paws is in the process of finding a new director, so I’m helping with just about everything, from meet and greets to training to fostering to cleaning out kennels.”
He glanced around the kennel area of the shelter, which had a warm, welcoming vibe to it. “It’s great of you to give your time,” he said. “When should I bring my niece in tomorrow?”
“I’m done teaching at the middle school at three, so I usually arrive at three thirty.”
So she had become a teacher. That had always been her dream. But back in high school she’d wanted to leave Spring Forest and see the world, teaching her way through it. Maybe she had, for all he knew. “Works for Ellie too,” he said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
For a second they just looked at each other, neither making a move to leave. He wished he could pull her into his arms and hug her, hold her tight, tell her how good it was to see her, to hear her voice, to talk to her. He’d missed her so much and hadn’t even known it. Which was probably a good thing. He had nothing to offer her.
As he gave Dempsey a pat and turned to walk away, he couldn’t quite figure out how he could be so relieved to be leaving and so looking forward to coming back.
He paused in front of Hank’s kennel. Life is complicated, huh, boy?
Hank tilted his head, and Matt took that as a nod.

To catch her breath and decompress, Claire took Dempsey into the fenced yard, which was thankfully empty of other volunteers. She let Dempsey off leash and for a few moments watched the dog run around the grass, sniffing and wagging her tail.
Matt Fielding. Everyone always said you never forgot your first love, and that had been very true for Claire. She’d truly believed he would be the man she’d marry and spend the rest of her life with. And then boom—a few days after a magical prom night, he’d broken up with her.
Her first boyfriend in college had proposed, and maybe the promised security had had something to do with why she’d said yes when she hadn’t loved him the way she’d loved Matt. To this day, she didn’t know if that had contributed to her divorce, but five years into her marriage, she’d found out that her ex-husband was cheating and in love with someone else. Now, she was living in the house they’d built out in the Kingdom Creek development, without the husband or the kids they’d talked about or the dogs they were going to adopt.
The craziest thing was that, just last week, her sister had said that Claire’s problem was that she’d never gotten over Matt, and to do so she’d need to find a guy who looked like him. Tall and muscular, with those blue eyes, Matt was so good-looking and so...hot that few men in town even came close to resembling him. But apparently her sister had found someone who fit the bill, and had arranged a double date for tonight.
Half of her wanted to cancel. The other half thought she’d better protect herself against Matt’s being back by going out on this date, even if her heart wouldn’t be in it. Claire wanted a relationship—she wanted love and to find the man she’d spend forever with. She wanted a child—children, hopefully—and at thirty-five, she wasn’t exactly a spring chicken.
“How did everything get so topsy-turvy, Demps?” she asked the dog, who’d come over with a half-eaten tennis ball. “I know you know all about that,” she added, throwing the ball. Dempsey, in all her fast, muscular glory, chased after it, leaping through the air like a deer.
There was nothing like watching dogs at play to make Claire feel better and forget about her love life—the old, the nonexistent and the upcoming. She smiled as Dempsey dropped the ball at her feet. She threw it a few more times, then left the dog in the yard to play while she went to help clean the kennels that were now empty due to the lucky pups that had been adopted today.
As she reentered the shelter, she saw Birdie and Bunny Whitaker in their waterproof aprons, hard at work with the disinfectant and hose. Claire adored the sixtysomething sisters—no-nonsense Birdie and dreamer Bunny—who lived together in the lovely farmhouse on Whitaker Acres, the same property the shelter was on. Opening Furever Paws had been a longtime dream of the Whitaker sisters ever since people had begun abandoning animals on Whitaker land, a pocket of rural country in what had become urban sprawl. At first they’d started an animal refuge, but when it became too much for them to handle financially, they filed for nonprofit status and started the Furever Paws Animal Rescue almost twenty years ago. Aside from the shelter with dogs and cats, the sisters kept goats, pigs, geese and even a pair of llamas on the property. They opened up Whitaker Acres to the public a few times a year so that visitors could enjoy the land and animals. Kids loved the place.
As Claire cleaned Snowball’s kennel—the white shepherd-Lab mix had been adopted this morning and immediately renamed Hermione—she was glad the shelter could take in more strays and drop-offs. Furever Paws had room for about a dozen each of dogs and cats, and twice that many were cared for in foster homes, like Dempsey.
“I’ll miss that adorable Snowball,” Birdie said, hosing down the kennel across the way. “For twenty years I’ve been telling myself not to get attached to our animals.” She shook her head. “Old fool.” Tall and strong, her short silver hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, Birdie grabbed the mop, dunked it in the cleaning solution and went at the floor of the kennel until it met her satisfaction.
“I already miss Annie Jo,” Bunny said, taking out the bed, blanket and toys in the next kennel and stuffing them in the huge laundry bin. Bunny looked a lot like Birdie but was shorter and plumper, her silver curls soft against her sweet face. “I love what her family renamed her—Peaches. Back in the day, a beau called me that,” she added, wiggling her hips.
Claire smiled. The shelter always named the strays and those left on the doorstep. Every now and then, adopters kept the shelter names—most recently a cat named Princess Leia, who’d been there for months. Birdie and Bunny loved naming the incoming animals, and whenever they couldn’t come up with a name, they held a meeting with the staff—the full-time employees, such as the shelter director, foster director and vet technician—and the volunteers, like Claire.
“Who was that very handsome man here a little while ago?” Bunny asked with a sly smile as she started sweeping out the kennel, reaching over for a stray piece of kibble that Annie Jo—Peaches—had missed. “My, he was nice to look at.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t rush over to ask how you could help him,” Birdie said to her starry-eyed sister, wringing out the mop in the big bucket.
“Well, I would have,” Bunny said, “but I saw Claire come back in with Dempsey and decided to leave him for her. Trust me, if I were even ten years younger...”
Claire laughed as Birdie shook her head again, her trademark move. Neither Whitaker sister had ever married, though Claire did know that Bunny had been engaged in her early twenties until her fiancé had tragically died. Birdie never talked about her love life, and though Claire had tried a time or two to get Bunny to spill about Birdie’s romantic life, the sisters were clearly loyal to each other’s secrets. As they should be.
But no matter how much or how little experience the Whitaker sisters had in the romance department, they were both wise—Birdie in common sense and Bunny in keeping an open mind and heart. Talking to the two always set Claire straight, or at least made her feel better.
Which was why she was going to be honest right now.
“That was the guy who broke my heart into a million pieces after high school graduation,” she said. “Matt Fielding. I cried for six months straight.”
“And then married the first guy who asked you out,” Birdie said with an uh-huh look on her face.
“Yup,” Claire said, spraying disinfectant on the bars of the last kennel and wiping them down with a clean rag. “But there’s hope for me. Guess who has a blind date tonight? My sister and her husband set me up.”
“Ooh,” Bunny said, her blue eyes twinkling. “How exciting. To me, blind dates are synonymous with ‘you never know.’ Could be the man of your dreams.”
Birdie wrinkled up her face. “Blind dates are usually the pits.” She glanced at Claire, instantly contrite, then threw her arms up in the air. “Oh, come on. They are.”
Claire laughed. “Well, if the date takes my mind off the fact that my first love is back in town? Mission accomplished.”
“Oh boy,” Birdie said, pausing the mop. “Someone is still very hung up on her first love.”
“Oh dear,” Bunny agreed.
And before Claire could say that of course she was—you did see him, after all—that cute little springer spaniel she’d shown Matt started howling up a storm.
“Someone wants her dinner now,” Bunny said with a laugh.
“I’m on feeding duty for the dogs,” Claire said, putting the disinfectant back on the supplies shelf and the rag in Bunny’s laundry basket. “If I don’t see you two before I leave for the day, congrats on a great Sunday. Five adult dogs adopted plus the puppies and cats.”
“It was a good day,” Bunny said. “Good luck on that date tonight.”
Claire smiled. “Who knows? Maybe he will be the man of my dreams.”
She was putting on a brave front for the sisters—not that she needed to, since she could always be honest with them. But sometimes Claire reverted to that old need to save face, to not seem like she cared quite so much that she was single, when she wanted to be partnered, to find that special someone to share her life with, to build a life with. She loved Dempsey to pieces, but most nights, unless she had book club or a social event like someone else’s engagement party or birthday, it was her and the boxer mix snuggled on the sofa in her living room, watching Dancing with the Stars or a Netflix movie, a rawhide chew for Dempsey and a single-serve bag of microwave popcorn for her.
There was room on that couch for a man.
But in any case, Matt Fielding was not the man of her dreams, whether she was “hung up or him” or not. Seventeen-year-old Claire had been madly in love. Now, she was a thirty-five-year-old divorced woman staring down her biological clock. “Man of her dreams” was silly nonsense. Hadn’t the supposed man of her dreams dumped her almost two decades ago as if she’d meant nothing? Ha, like that was part of the dream?
Matt Fielding was not the man of her dreams.
If she said it enough, she might believe it.
And if there was no such thing, then what was she looking for in a partner?
She’d never put much stock in checklists, since she could rattle off a list of adjectives, like kind, and nonnegotiables, like doesn’t rip apart his exes or his mother on the date, but everything came down to chemistry. How you felt with someone. How someone made you feel. If your head and heart were engaged. She’d never experienced chemistry the way she had with Matt Fielding. But her motto ever since she’d started volunteering for Furever Paws was: Everything is possible. The most timid dog, the hissiest cat, could become someone’s dearest treasure. Everything is possible. Including Claire finding love again. At thirty-five.
She peeled off her waterproof gloves and tossed them in the used-gloves bin, then headed toward the door to start filling bowls with kibble and sneaking in medicines where needed.
“Oh, Claire,” Birdie said. “Some advice. In the first five minutes, ask your date if he likes dogs. If he says no, you’ll know he’s not for you.”
Bunny tilted her head. “Now, Birdie. Not everyone loves animals like we do.”
Apparently, the entire Whitaker family loved animals to the point that all their nicknames were inspired by animals. Birdie’s real name was Bernadette. Bunny’s was Gwendolyn. There was a Moose—Doug—who’d sadly died long ago. And a Gator, aka Greg, who advised the sisters on financial matters.
“The man of Claire’s dreams will love dogs,” Birdie said. “That’s nonnegotiable. If her blind date says dogs slobber and bark and are a pain in the neck, she can tune him out the rest of the night.”
Claire smiled. As usual, Birdie Whitaker was right.
Chapter Two (#u26648ece-d95a-541d-815a-7087705a8363)
Matt held his niece’s hand as they entered the Main Street Grille later that night, the smell of burgers and fish and chips reminding him how hungry he was. His sister, Laura, and her husband, Kurt, had insisted on taking him out to dinner to celebrate his homecoming.
“His homestaying!” Ellie had said, squeezing him into one of her famous hugs.
He adored the eight-year-old. He barely knew her—had rarely seen her since she’d been born because of his tours—but the moment he’d arrived yesterday, she’d latched on to him like he was the fun, exciting uncle she’d missed out on, and of course, he couldn’t let her down. He’d played soccer with her. He’d read her two bedtime stories last night, then she’d read him one, and he’d almost fallen asleep right there in her pink-and-purple room. This morning, he’d played Hiker Barbie with her in the backyard, his Barbie falling into a ravine, and her Barbie saving her with her search-and-rescue skills and the help of Barbie’s golden retriever, Tanner. She’d spent a good hour talking to Matt about dogs, after she’d instructed Tanner to grab his Barbie’s jeans cuff and pull her up to safety. The girl was dog-crazy. And he was Ellie-crazy. He was determined to help her find just the right pooch to love.
With Claire Asher’s help. Amazing.
“We love this restaurant,” Laura said as the hostess led them through the dimly lit space to a table for four near a window. “During the day, it’s more of a diner, but at night it transforms into a pub. Apparently, it’s quite the nostalgic place to get engaged.”
Matt glanced around the restaurant. There were quite a few obvious dates.
And, oh hell, was that Claire?
On an obvious date.
He turned away so that his staring wouldn’t draw her attention. Then, as he sat down, he took another glance. Dammit. Yes, it was. Four tables away, diagonally. She was sitting with her own sister, Della, and two men were across from them. The one across from Claire looked slick. He had gelled hair and trendy eyeglasses and was holding court, making Claire laugh.
Crud. He used to make Claire Asher laugh.
At least she’s happy, he told himself.
“What are you having, Uncle Matt?” Ellie asked. “I’m getting the mac and cheese. No, the cowabunga burger. No, the mac and cheese. Or should I have the spaghetti and meatballs?”
He focused his attention on his niece. The poor thing had an incredibly crooked strawberry-blond braid with weird tufts sticking out. Ellie had asked him to do the honors for tonight’s “special dinner,” and Laura had given the tutorial as he went. When he was done, his sister had had to leave the room to keep herself from bursting into laughter. But Ellie, checking out his handiwork with a hand mirror and her back to the hall mirror, declared her braid just perfect!
“Well, I know your favorite is mac and cheese,” he said, “and since this is a special night, I think you should get your favorite.” Matt forced himself to look at the menu and not Claire.
But she looked so damned pretty. The candle on the table just slightly illuminated her. She’d dolled up a bit since her shift at the shelter. Her pink-red lips were glossy, and her light blond hair was sleek to her shoulders. She wore an off-white V-neck sweater, and a delicate gold chain around her neck.
“That’s right,” his sister said, smiling at Ellie. “This is a special night—celebrating Uncle Matt’s long-awaited homecoming.”
“Homestaying!” Ellie said with a grin.
That got his attention. Because was this something to celebrate? Thirty-six and living in his sister’s guest room? No clue where he was headed, what he’d do. Visiting his family while he figured things out made sense, he reminded himself. He had ideas, of course. And skills. But he felt wrong in his skin, suddenly adrift in this different life.
You’re an American hero and don’t you forget it,his sister had said when he’d mentioned that earlier. You’ll adapt and build a new life—hopefully here in town.
With Claire Asher to run into everywhere he went? No, sir. He was two for two on his first full day in Spring Forest. He couldn’t do that to himself on a daily basis. But until he decided where to go and what to do, Spring Forest, it was.
He took one more look at Claire out the side of his menu. Oh please. Her date was offering her a bite of something. As Claire smiled and leaned forward to accept the fork—with her hand, thank God, and not with those luscious lips—Matt felt his gut tighten and his appetite disappear.
He’d help Ellie find her dog. Which meant seeing Claire one more time tomorrow. And then maybe he’d leave town. There was no way he could figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life if he was going to constantly run into her—and be unable to stop thinking about her.
Dammit.
Now she was laughing at something Slick had said. Great. Tonight was a real celebration.

Claire’s date liked dogs. Loved them, in fact. He—Andrew, thirty-five, divorced, two children of whom he shared joint custody—even had a dog, a yellow Lab named Sully.
And Andrew was very attractive. Her sister hadn’t been kidding about him looking like Matt, to a degree. They had the same coloring, the dark hair—though Matt’s was more military-short—the blue eyes, the strong nose and square jawline, both men managing to look both refined and rugged at the same time. Andrew was in a suit and tie, but Claire had seen Matt Fielding in a suit only once—on prom night, the black tuxedo he’d paired with a skinny white silk tie and black Converse high-tops. That night, she’d thought there was nothing sexier on the planet than her boyfriend.
Her date for tonight was charming and kind and attentive, asking all kinds of questions about her job as a teacher. He showed her photos of his kids and beamed with pride about them, which Claire found sweet and touching. Over the past few years, when she’d started worrying that she wouldn’t find Mr. Right-Part-Two, she’d thought about marrying a man with kids and becoming a great stepmother. And there was adoption, of course. Her single friend Sally had adopted a little girl from foster care, and though there were challenges, she’d never seen her friend so happy, so fulfilled.
Another of Claire’s mottoes over the past few years had been: If you want to find your life partner, if you want to have a child, however that child may come into your life, you have to keep your mind and heart open.
And now here was seemingly perfect Andrew. Even clear-eyed, hard-nosed Birdie Whitaker would be impressed by him and the prospects of a second date. She could just hear romantic Bunny running down how things would go: And then a third date at that revolving restaurant on the zillionth floor in the fancy hotel in Raleigh. Then amazing sex in your suite for the night. Then exclusivity. Then a proposal on your six-month-iversary. You’ll be married to a wonderful man and have stepchildren to dote on and love by summer—you could be a June bride if you’re only engaged four months! Oh God, sometimes Claire thought it would be wonderful to be Bunny.
Problem was, though, that despite how wonderful Andrew seemed, Claire felt zero chemistry. Zero pull. The thought of getting to know him better didn’t really interest her. The idea of kissing him left her cold.
No fair! And she knew exactly why this man who loved dogs, who’d even showed her a slew of photos of handsome Sully on his phone, wasn’t having any effect on any part of her at all.
Because for the past few hours, as she’d been getting ready for the date, Matt had been on her mind. How could he not be? She hadn’t seen him in almost twenty years and then, whammo, there he was today, at her sanctuary, the place where she always felt at home, at peace. Matt Fielding suddenly kneeling in front of a dog’s kennel at Furever Paws. Unbelievable.
She’d started out the evening thinking she would not let being all verklempt at seeing her first love derail this date. And so she’d put a little more effort than she otherwise might have into her hair and makeup and outfit, as if trying to force herself to give the date a real shot instead of knowing her heart just wouldn’t be in it.
And now, as Andrew signaled their waiter for their check, which he insisted on paying for the table, all she wanted was to be back home, sipping this excellent chardonnay in a hot bath to soothe her muscles after the long day at the shelter. And to deal with being flooded by memories of Matt. The first time they’d met. Kissed. When he’d opened up about his older brother, who hadn’t come home from Afghanistan. His parents’ pride and worry that Matt had enlisted in his brother’s honor. That they may lose another son. Matt had promised his mother he’d email every night to say good-night, to let her know he was okay. And he had for years; his sister, Laura, had shared that with her when they’d run into each other a few years back.
Matt had ended up outliving his parents, and when Laura had let Claire know when they’d run into each other another time, she’d said that Matt got through it only because he wouldn’t have to worry about shattering their hearts a second time, after all.
All these memories had come rushing back while she’d been applying mascara and stepping into a gentle spray of Chanel Nº 19. Her date with Andrew Haverman, attorney-at-law, never stood a chance.
Claire shook her head at herself.
“So, I hope we can go for a drink,” Andrew said as he signed the credit card slip. He slid a hopeful, very-interested smile at Claire.
Claire’s sister stood up, prompting her husband to do the same. “We have to get up pretty early tomorrow. You two go, though,” she added with her own hopeful smile, glancing from Claire to Andrew and back to Claire.
Don’t you dare mess this up! Claire could hear Della shouting telepathically to her. Get Matt Fielding out of your head this instant! I know you! GET. HIM. OUT! Andrew has a dog named Sully!
Despite the dog, despite everything, she couldn’t get Matt out of her head. As her date was pocketing his shiny gold credit card and receipt, she glanced around the restaurant, trying to think of an excuse. She didn’t want to go for a drink, extend the date. She didn’t want to see this man again, despite, despite, despite. Avoiding her sister’s narrowed stare, Claire kept looking around the restaurant, sending a smile to a former student at a table with her parents, another smile to a couple who’d adopted two kittens from Furever Paws a few weeks ago—and then her smile froze.
Claire felt her eyes widen as her gaze was caught on a very crooked strawberry-blond braid halfway down a little girl’s back. She’d seen a similarly hued braid—though a very tidy one—on Matt’s niece when she’d run into his sister and the girl a couple of months ago in the supermarket.
Oh God. Don’t let me look next to her and see Matt.
But there he was. Now staring at her. Glaring at her, actually.
Whoa there, guy.
But suddenly her date was standing up too, and so she had to. Her group would walk right past Matt’s table. There was no way she couldn’t say hello, if not to Matt, then to his sister.
Awk-ward.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Claire’s sister hiss-whispered in her ear as they headed toward the door—toward Matt’s table. “No wonder you’ve been so distracted!”
“Actually, I just noticed him a few seconds ago,” Claire admitted. If she’d known he was there this whole time, she would have excused herself to the restroom to hyperventilate.
“Claire!” Matt’s sister said with a surprised smile as they were about to pass.
Oh hell. Claire paused as her group moved on to the waiting area, collecting their coats from the racks. Her sister was furiously gesturing her over by tipping her head to the side, her mouth in a comical grimace.
“I hear I owe you a big thank-you, Claire!” Laura was saying. She sat across from Matt and next to her husband. “Matt mentioned he ran into you at Furever Paws and that you’re going to help Ellie choose a puppy tomorrow.”
Claire glanced at Matt, who was now sitting with a total lack of expression on his handsome face. Better than the glare? Not really.
“I’m so excited, I’m going to explode,” Ellie said, her hazel eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me! I can’t wait to see the puppies!”
Aww. Ellie was adorable and sweet. “My pleasure,” Claire said.
“Just remember the rules, Matt and Ellie,” Laura said, raising an eyebrow between the two. “Housetrained is a must. And the puppy must know basic commands before he walks into our home. Oh—and no bigger than medium-sized when fully grown.”
Uh-oh, Claire thought. She’d have her work cut out for her there. Did any of the puppies fit the bill? Certainly not the springer spaniel, who’d peed right on Claire’s foot this morning while she’d been fluffing her blanket. Though she was expected to be medium-sized. And the three other contenders were housetrained, but two would be huge, and a consistent “sit” was still beyond all of them, in spite of lots of training with high-value treats.
“Your date is waiting for you,” Matt practically growled, gesturing toward the door.
Her sister was still furiously head-gesturing for Claire to get the hell away from Matt Fielding and join the present and possible future—not be stuck in the past.
Awk-ward, she thought again as she smiled at everyone and dashed toward her group.
But as her date held the door open for her, she dared a glance back at Matt.
And he was looking right at her, his expression more readable now. He was angry-jealous!
He’d dumped her, remember? To live his own life on his terms.
“So, that nightcap?” her date asked, helping her into her coat.
Do not look over at Matt, she ordered herself, aware that he had to be watching right then.
“To be honest, I just saw a ghost,” she said, surprising herself with her candor. “I think I’d like to just call it a night.”
Her sister rolled her eyes and shook her head so imperceptibly that likely only Claire caught it.
Her date looked confused.
“An ex,” her brother-in-law explained to Andrew.
“Ah. I get it,” Andrew said. “Happened to me just last night while on another blind date, and crazy as it was, I ended up with the ex for the rest of the night.” A salacious expression lit his face. “One-time thing,” he rushed to say, seeming to realize he’d said too much.
At least Claire wouldn’t have to feel too bad about ditching him.
As they headed to her sister’s SUV, she could still see Matt’s face so clearly in her mind. How could she not be over him? How? Eighteen years later?
He was coming to the shelter tomorrow. She’d see him again. He had a purpose and so did she, and then he’d leave and that would be that.
Yeah, right.

Corporal McCabbers was telling Matt about his girlfriend back home; Penny was her name, with long red hair and green eyes. He and McCabbers sat in the back of the vehicle, headed for a broken-down US Army truck that they had to get running pronto.
Ten more days and I’m home, McCabbers was saying, and Matt envied his buddy’s ability to lose himself in his memories and hopes for the future—because his woman was still his woman. Matt had a string of hookups and failed off-base, short-term relationships. There’d been women over the years, but Claire Asher’s face was always the one he saw in his dreams, his fantasies.
And home? There’d been no home for almost two decades. Home was wherever Matt was.
“There’s the truck,” he heard the driver call.
He and McCabbers waited for their vehicle to stop, for the all-clear from the driver to duck out toward the truck under cover of night.
No sooner had their boots hit the dry, dusty ground than a burst of flame erupted before Matt’s eyes, the explosion throwing him back hard.
The pain in his left leg was unlike anything he’d felt before. “Fielding!” he heard McCabbers shouting. “Fielding!” And then he’d felt nothing at all.
Matt bolted up, a trickle of sweat running down his chest, his breath ragged and coming hard. He glanced around, and then closed his eyes.
He was home. His sister’s house.
Letting out a breath, he dropped back down on the soft sheets and pulled the comforter up to his chest.
He didn’t have the nightmares as often as he used to. In rehab, where he’d woken up after being unconscious for two days, he’d had the dreams every time he’d fallen asleep. But as his wounds healed and his leg strengthened, the nightmares had lessened. The memories remained though.
He could still picture dragging himself over to McCabbers and tying his shirt around the wound in his buddy’s leg, which had looked a hell of a lot worse than Matt’s own. The driver of their vehicle had been able to get back to them, dragging him and McCabbers into the truck and booking it out of there, saving their lives. McCabbers had gone on to marry his girlfriend six months later in Las Vegas, on one crutch but otherwise alive and well.
Matt had a hell of a lot to be grateful for. And Claire Asher deserved to be happy. Wasn’t that why he’d broken up with her all those years ago? So she could have a better life than the one he’d be able to share with her?
Still, he couldn’t stop speculating about how Claire’s evening had progressed. If it had progressed. If she’d invited Slick home. If he was still there.
None of your business, he reminded himself. Help your niece find the perfect puppy, then pack up and find a place where you belong.
Chapter Three (#u26648ece-d95a-541d-815a-7087705a8363)
“That very good-looking man and a little girl are out front,” Bunny whispered with a smile as Claire came in the back door of Furever Paws on Monday afternoon. Claire returned Sunshine to her kennel and secured the door, noting the time of the walk on the big whiteboard on the wall. The year-old rottie mix had been at the kennel for two days, and was slowly warming up to walking on a leash. “Says he’s here to see Claire Asher about adopting a puppy.” Bunny smiled slyly.
Claire shook her head at Bunny’s expression. “Well, he is.”
“I can’t wait to hear about your date,” Bunny said, her blue eyes twinkling. “Find me later and tell me everything.”
Do I want to be reminded of any of it? No. “There’s nothing really to tell. No chemistry, even if he was great on paper.”
Bunny nodded. “I get it. A blind date, no matter if he’s Pierce Brosnan, can’t compete with a first love on the brain.”
Especially when that first love is in the same restaurant.
Claire glanced at the clock. It was exactly three thirty. She’d practically raced here after finishing up at school, grateful that her last period of the day was monitoring a study hall. She’d wanted to get to the shelter with some time to spare before Matt arrived so that she wouldn’t be flustered. So, she’d taken Sunshine out, grounded herself on her turf and was ready by the time she got back inside.
Claire left the dog kennels and headed to the main lobby. She almost sucked in her breath at the sight of Matt, looking as good as Bunny had noted. He wore a navy-blue Henley, a black leather jacket and dark jeans.
She gave him a fast smile, then turned her focus on Ellie, who was practically jumping in place.
“Hi, Miss Claire!” Ellie said with a huge grin on her adorable face. “I can’t wait to see the puppies! Can you believe my mom finally said okay to me having a dog? I’ve been waiting years!”
“Well, you are only eight,” Matt pointed out, giving her still-crooked braid a playful pull.
“I’ve wanted a dog since I was two,” Ellie said. “But I had to show my mom I could take care of a dog. And I can! And I will!”
Her handsome uncle smiled. “I know it.”
“Well, to the kennels, then,” Claire said, leading the way. This was good. They were both ignoring running into each other last night. “We have four puppies and three dogs between a year and a half and two—they’ve got a lot of puppy in them too. Let’s start with the puppies and see who you like.”
She glanced at Matt, who was quiet.
“Just one rule,” Claire added to the girl. “No putting your fingers in the kennels. Some dogs might nip because they’re a little nervous or need more training time.”
At Ellie’s serious nod, Claire stopped in front of a six-month-old shepherd mix, Tabitha, whose amber eyes darted over at them. She stood and barked up a storm, sending the other dogs into a commotion, and ambled over to the bars of the kennel. She sniffed the air for a treat and when one wasn’t forthcoming, she padded back over to her bed and began chewing on her rope toy. Tabitha had an ear infection that required medication for the next week, and the irritation might have been making her act out a bit.
“She’s really cute,” Ellie said with a bit of a frown. She knelt down in front of the cage. “Hi, puppy. I’m Ellie.”
The puppy barked like crazy again and came over and sniffed the air again, then went back to her bed.
Ellie tilted her head and bit her lip. Claire could immediately tell the girl didn’t feel a connection with Tabitha.
“And next we have a five-month-old springer spaniel puppy,” Claire said, moving to the spinning pooch in the next kennel. In true form, Belle began spinning in circles, trying to chase her tail.
Ellie gasped. She dropped down on her knees in front of the kennel, watching the puppy with delight on her face. “Hi, there! Hi, puppy!”
The puppy stopped spinning and came closer to Ellie.
“Remember, sweetheart, don’t put your fingers in the kennel,” Matt said, and Claire nodded at him.
Belle barked, excitedly wagging her tail, jumping up at the kennel door and trying to sniff Ellie. She sat down and barked at Ellie, then made a play bow.
“She wants to play with me!” Ellie said. “You are so adorable!” she added. “You’re exactly what I dreamed about!”
Belle began barking like crazy and spinning around, desperately trying to catch her tail in her mouth.
Claire widened her eyes and looked at Matt, who was grimacing.
Ellie laughed, her entire face lit up with happiness. “I see your name is Belle, and I know that means beautiful, and you are, but I think you look more like a Sparkle. That’s what I’d name you, Sparkle.” She bolted up. “This is the one! This is my puppy!”
Claire couldn’t remember the last time she saw someone so excited, and she saw excited kids a lot during the course of adoptions.
“Yup, you’re the one, Sparkle!” Ellie said, dropping down to her knees again and smiling at the puppy.
Who squatted and peed right on the floor, the mess seeping into the corridor to the point that they all jumped back.
“Oops,” Ellie said. Then she seemed to remember what her mom said about housetraining, and worry slid into her expression. Her shoulders slumped, and her face scrunched up for a moment. Claire could tell the girl was trying not to cry.
“Well, Sparkle is definitely not housetrained,” Matt said gently, a hand on his niece’s shoulder. “And she sure is noisy and busy. Why don’t we—”
“I’ll clean it up!” Ellie added, looking from her uncle to Claire, and back at the puppy, and then back at Claire. “Are there paper towels or something?”
Claire smiled and got the roll of heavy-duty brown paper towels. “I’ll take care of it, honey.” She quickly mopped up the mess.
“Your mom made her requirements very clear, sweets,” Matt said. “So even though Sparkle is cute, she’s a long way from being trained and she seems kind of hyper.”
Ellie’s little shoulders slumped again, and she sucked in a breath.
Aww. This was always a difficult thing, when someone fell for an animal that wasn’t the right fit for the home. “Ellie,” Claire said, “two kennels down is an adorable chiweenie named Tucker who’s housetrained and knows basic commands. A chiweenie is a cross between a Chihuahua and a dachshund. He’ll be small even when fully grown, so he’s a great size for a kid.”
Ellie followed Claire to Tucker’s kennel, her head hung low. “I’ve never heard of a chiweenie before.” But there was no excitement in her voice.
“Meet Tucker,” Claire said, gesturing at the little dog, who was as calm as could be. He lay on his bed, gnawing on a rope toy. He was very cute, with floppy, cinnamon-colored ears and a long snout, and tended to look like he was smiling.
Ellie gave him something of a smile. “Hi, Tucker. You seem nice.”
Tucker didn’t even glance up.
“He can be slow to warm up to people,” Claire explained.
But Ellie raced back to Sparkle’s kennel and knelt in front of it. “I wish I could take you home, Sparkle.” She sat there and watched the dog chasing her tail.
Claire looked at Matt, whose expression matched his niece’s. This couldn’t be easy, and she probably should have thought to warn him that something like this could happen. She’d been a little too shocked yesterday when she’d seen him at the shelter to even form an extra thought. And last night at the restaurant, all rational thought had poofed from her head.
“Well, let’s look at the other pups,” Matt said, reaching his hand toward Ellie. He glanced at Claire. “I’ll bet there’s another puppy that Ellie will fall in love with.”
“Definitely,” Claire said. “Because guess who’s next, Ellie? A super sweet year-old shepherd mix named Dumpling. I’ll bet you’ll like him. He’s super snuggly.” He was inconsistent on commands, but he did know stay. He was slated to be on the large side of medium, which might be stretching it. Sometimes it was impossible to really know how big a dog would get.
“I guess I can meet him.” But Ellie didn’t get up from where she sat in front of Belle’s cage. And even from here, Claire could see the glistening of Ellie’s eyes. The girl was trying hard not to cry.
“Honey, maybe we could come back next weekend for the adoption event,” Matt said. “These puppies will have had an extra week of training, and you might just fall in love with a dog you barely noticed this time.”
“Okay, Uncle Matt,” Ellie said, but she still didn’t stand up. “It’s okay, Sparkle. You’ll find someone to love you, and you’ll be best friends. That’s what my mom tells me when I’m sad about not having a best friend.”
Claire held her breath and glanced at Matt, whose broad shoulders slumped.
“As long as I’m nice and friendly, I’m doing my best,” Ellie said to the puppy. “Then one day I’ll make a best friend. It can happen anytime, Mommy said.”
Claire swallowed.
Ellie let out a little sigh. “You’d be a great best friend, Sparkle. But maybe another girl will come here today, and you’ll get to go home with her. Just be nice and friendly, okay, Sparkle?”
Oh God.
Ellie stood, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Bye, Sparkle. I love you.”
Claire looked at Matt. He looked like he might cry too. And she’d seen him cry. Just once, a long, long time ago when he lost his brother.
Matt cleared his throat. “Tucker might be just right for you, once he gets to know you,” he said, kneeling down to be eye level with his niece. “Then you get to say chiweenie a lot. ‘I’m taking my chiweenie out. Chiweenie, where are you?’”
“I guess,” Ellie said. She started to follow Matt toward Tucker’s kennel next door. “Uncle Matt?” she asked, stopping. “I know Sparkle isn’t housetrained like Mommy wants, but I could housetrain her. I’ve read all about how.”
Matt seemed to consider that. “Well, let me send your mom a picture of her.” He took out his cell phone and snapped a photo. “Ooh, that’s a good one. I’ll let her know Sparkle doesn’t exactly meet the requirements, but that we’re both willing to work extra hard training her.” He texted something and then waited.
Claire was hoping Laura would be unable to resist the puppy’s adorableness.
His phone pinged. “‘Not housetrained?’” he read aloud. “‘Doesn’t know a single command? I’m sorry, Matt. No.’” He turned to Ellie. “Sweetie, you’ll be at school from the time you leave at seven thirty until you get home at three,” Matt said gently. “That’s all day. That would put everything to do with caring for Sparkle on your mom’s shoulders.”
“Yeah,” Ellie whispered, and her face scrunched up again. Claire knew the girl was willing herself not to cry.
“Could we put a hold on Belle—Sparkle?” Matt asked. “Just until we can talk to my sister face-to-face? Maybe she’ll compromise on a requirement.”
“But not both,” Ellie said, her face crumpling again. “Sparkle isn’t housetrained. She doesn’t know any commands.”
Claire’s heart was so heavy, her knees might not hold her up much longer. “I’ll put a hold until tomorrow,” she assured him.
Ellie looked both hopeful and not. “Thanks for showing me the puppies, Miss Claire. Bye, Sparkle. I love you.”
The little brown-and-white pup gave a little bark and then continued chasing her tail.
“She said bye back!” Ellie said, a smile breaking through.
Matt smiled and took his niece’s hand. “Why did I think this would be a snap?” he whispered to Claire.
“Few things ever are,” Claire said.
He held her gaze for a moment. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
So much for keeping her distance, cutting contact, moving on. Claire bit her lip and nodded, watching the pair walk away, Matt’s arm around the little girl’s dejected shoulders.
Oh, am I in trouble, she thought.

“No and no,” Laura whispered after Matt made another pitch to his sister for Sparkle. They stood at the kitchen island, Matt badly chopping peppers for a salad while Laura checked the chicken roasting in the oven. The house sure smelled good. “But look at this face,” he said, picking up his phone and showing her the adorable pup again.
“You’re getting pepper bits on your phone,” Laura said, refusing to look at the photo. “And could you cut those a little thinner?”
“Uh-oh, you’re mad at me.”
“Of course I am!” she said. “I explicitly said the dog had to be housetrained and know basic commands. This Sparkle is neither! And now I’m the bad guy.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But she’s incredibly cute,” Matt said. “And Ellie fell for her hard.”
Laura sighed and put on oven mitts to take out the baked potatoes. “I just had all the area rugs cleaned, and the bedroom carpets are brand-new. I work part-time, I volunteer at Ellie’s school. I can’t housetrain a puppy, Matt.”
Wait a minute.
Yes.
Of course!
Why hadn’t this occurred to him before? “I’ll train the puppy,” he said. “I’ll read a book, watch some videos. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
Laura looked at him. “Matt, honey, I appreciate that, but no. I don’t want accidents in the house for weeks on end. I don’t want a dog that doesn’t stop or stay when I need it to. Sorry, Matt, but I’m putting my foot down.”
She had every right. “Ah hell, I really screwed this up,” he said. “I shouldn’t have taken Ellie to see puppies she wouldn’t be able to adopt.”
His sister put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure that just the right puppy will come along.”
“I guess,” he said, hating that he’d have to disappoint his niece—and Claire.
“Thanks for helping with the salad,” she said, eyeing the bowl of misshapen lettuce and oddly shaped peppers and cucumbers. She laughed, then shrugged. “I’ll call it Uncle Salad.”
“I’d better go call Claire and let her know to release the hold on Sparkle,” he said.
Laura nodded. “I am sorry it didn’t work out with this particular dog. And I do appreciate you doing the heavy lifting with the search. It’s not easy being the yes or no woman.”
He smiled. “I know.”
“Dinner in ten minutes,” she said, which meant he’d better go tell Claire now, and then Ellie.
His sister had always been no-nonsense, though when you had kids you probably had to be, or you’d end up with four untrained puppies peeing on the area rugs.
He nodded and headed up to the guest room and closed the door. Phone in hand, he sat on the bed and fished out the card Claire had given him, the shelter’s information on one side, her cell phone on the back.
He punched in her number. The sound of her voice saying hello? sent a little tremor through him. He’d probably never get used to just calling her up, hearing her voice, running into her.
“Hi, Claire, it’s Matt. You can let the hold go, unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry. Is Ellie okay?”
“No. My sister’s mad at me for making her the bad guy, so my brother-in-law is probably getting an earful right now and will be pissed at me too.”
“Oh no,” Claire said.
“I even offered to train Sparkle myself, but my sister won’t go for it. I get it, but I wish this could have worked out.”
“You’d be willing to train the puppy?” Claire asked.
“Sure. I mean, I know I don’t have experience, but I’d do my research. It’s not like I’m focused on anything else right now.”
She was silent for a second, then said, “Matt, I have a crazy idea.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I live in the Kingdom Creek development—a house with a big fenced yard. There’s a small one-bedroom apartment over the garage. Maybe you could move in temporarily to foster and train Sparkle, and when she’s ready, she can be adopted by Ellie. Your niece can even help you train her.”
Huh. Win-win for everyone, especially him in the short-term. He’d have his own place, even if it was connected to Claire’s house. He’d have some space to figure out his future. And Claire had used the word temporarily, so she was making it clear he’d go when the puppy was trained.
Best of all, he had an immediate mission: to train a cute puppy for his beloved niece.
“I’ll move in tomorrow,” he said.
There was silence for a moment, then she rattled off the address and some information about the place. The apartment came with basic furnishings, so he’d just have to move his big duffel bag.
“Thanks, Claire,” he said. “I know I’m probably not your first choice of tenant.”
“At least I know you. Or did,” she said. “The last couple I rented to was a disaster.”
Or did. The words hit him like a left hook in the gut. “See you tomorrow,” he said, needing to get off the phone, to break the connection with her.
But despite her saying goodbye and the click in his ear, an image of Claire Asher in a long, pale pink dress came storming into his mind. Prom night, so many years ago. They’d long planned to lose their virginity to each other that night as a tribute to their past and a promise for their future, but as the night went on, Matt knew he wouldn’t touch her. She’d known he was going to enlist, like his brother had before him, but she kept talking about when he came home, saying that she’d wait for him, reminding him she’d be semi-local in Chapel Hill for college but that she could transfer depending on where he got stationed. But on prom night, with Claire looking like a movie star in that beautiful pink gown, the whole world open to her, all Matt could think about was smart, interesting Claire putting her life on hold when she deserved so much more.
Except she’d stayed in Spring Forest. Had gone to the local college. Married a hometown guy. Why? Why hadn’t she used the opportunity of being free to spread those glittering wings of hers? He didn’t understand it.
He supposed he’d have a lot of chances to ask her now that he’d be living in her house.
Chapter Four (#u26648ece-d95a-541d-815a-7087705a8363)
“You what?” Claire’s sister, Della, said as she handed Claire her sesame chicken from the Taste of China delivery bag. Della had come over to catch up on the blind date, running into Matt at the restaurant, and what-is-this-about-helping-him-and-his-niece-pick-out-a-puppy? By the time Claire got to the part about Matt moving into the “in-law apartment” to train the dog, Della was shaking her head with older sister wisdom. “You’re going to be living together!”
“Hardly,” Claire said, opening up the container of sesame chicken. Nothing, not even her nerves, could spoil her appetite for this deliciousness. “The apartment is completely separate with its own entrance. I’ll rarely see him.” She pulled apart her chopsticks and dug in.
Della narrowed her gaze and picked up a succulent bite of beef in garlic sauce and a broccoli spear. “Except the entrance is up those deck stairs.” She pointed with her chopsticks toward the sliding glass door to the backyard, where Dempsey lay in her memory foam dog bed. “You’ll see him every time you’re sitting here. And considering we’re in your living room and your kitchen is directly in front of us, you’ll be seeing him constantly.”
“He is nice to look at,” Claire said. “So that’s a plus.”
Della put down her chopsticks. “Honey. There isn’t even a word for how badly he hurt you. You can’t go through that again. I can’t!”
Yup, Claire remembered. All her plans for herself had gone up in smoke. Maybe another girl would have rallied and gone off to the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, as planned. Planned—ha! Back then “the plan” had been for Matt to be in basic training, then stationed somewhere stateside or overseas, and they’d see each other when he could come home for precious and rare breaks. She’d graduate, he’d come home for good and then they’d plan what was next. Except instead, he’d broken up with her with barely an explanation, and she’d been so heartbroken and confused that the pain had messed with her head. She’d been unable to think straight, to think of anything except how her life had been derailed.
Her poor sister had tried to get her to see that it was also an opportunity, to go to school and start her new life far away. But Claire hadn’t been able to pull herself up and out of her heartache. She hadn’t gone away to school, hadn’t gone to college at all that first semester. Instead, she’d cried constantly, unwilling to get out of bed, unwilling to imagine a future without the guy she loved—without Matt Fielding.
Her sister had come over every day, bringing her food she ate one bite of, brushing her hair, making her bed around her, and finally, after three weeks, dragging her out of bed for a sisters trip to the Bahamas, whether she wanted to go or not. Della had packed her suitcase and forced her on the plane. The white sand and turquoise water, the fruity drinks and warm, breezy air had helped restore her.
Back home, she’d finally enrolled in the local college, married her second boyfriend, a man she hadn’t realized was all wrong for her. Luckily, by then, her passion for becoming a teacher, particularly of middle school kids in the throes of figuring out who they were, had gripped her. Claire had run with it, getting her master’s and advising extracurricular groups. She loved teaching. By the time her marriage had fallen apart, Claire had had her own busy life, which included volunteering at Furever Paws. Or at least that was what she’d told herself to explain why her husband’s betrayal hadn’t steamrollered her the way it should have.
I don’t believe you ever really loved me, her husband had said when he told her he’d fallen for someone else, really fallen, and that he was leaving Claire. But he was wrong; she had loved him, very much. I think you rebounded with me after your high school sweetheart destroyed you.
Destroyed. Heavy word. One her sister would apply, as well. But Claire hadn’t been destroyed. People had to be resilient, had to move on. Still, no sense not being careful with yourself to avoid having your heart smashed to smithereens in the future.
Claire smiled and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Eat up. And stop worrying. Matt Fielding and I aren’t getting back together. I’m just bringing together a little girl and a puppy.”
“Except Matt and said puppy are moving in upstairs.”
Claire put down her bite of sesame chicken. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but she’d never been able to lie to Della, who saw through her. “Every time I see him, my heart races and my stomach flip-flops, and these little chills slide up my spine.”
“Yeah, that’s called not having gotten over your first boyfriend. Who broke your heart. Who’s moving upstairs. Who you said has no plans—to stay or go.”
Claire sobered up fast. She had to be careful about Matt.
“I’m just saying, Claire. You want what you want—a husband and child. A family. You’ve been saying yes to men who ask you out in the supermarket. You’ve been saying yes to blind dates—although, you derailed a perfectly good one, even though I suppose you might have dodged a bullet with that one too. You know what you want. So don’t get sucked in by a handsome face and memories, Claire. He hurt you terribly.”
It didn’t mean he’d hurt her again, though. Necessarily. Eighteen years was a long time. Maybe this was meant to be their second chance. He’d been put in her path. And now he was moving into her rental apartment.
Oh God. Their second chance? Now she was concocting a fantasy about him? Why did he have such a hold on her after all this time?
What she needed to do was to focus on what she wanted out of life: the right partner and a child. That meant really getting out there, and so that was what she would do. She’d kissed her share of frogs since her divorce, but there was bound to be a “prince” out there somewhere. She’d focus on finding him, and then the hold Matt had on her heart, mind and soul would be released.
Right? Yes, right.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised her sister. “And by the way, I’m open to more blind dates.”
“That’s my girl,” her sister said, stealing a hunk of sesame chicken from her container.
Maybe she’d even join a dating service to speed things up, vet the men via email “chats” before they even met.
“But no matter what, I’m here if you need me,” her sister said. Knowingly.
Claire bit her lip. Even her wise sibling knew how strong the Matt Fielding hold was.
Cripes.

“Guess what, Ellie-Belly?” Matt said, sitting down on the round braided rug in his niece’s bedroom. Not bad, he told himself as he realized he got down on his bad leg in record time and without wincing.
Ellie was playing “dog tea,” serving her huge stuffed dogs who were sitting around the rug in a semicircle. Half had fallen over, but she’d prop them back up when it was their time for tea.
“What?” she asked, pouring for the white poodle beside her.
“What do you think about me moving to my own place nearby and fostering Sparkle and training her so that you could adopt her in about a month’s time?”
Ellie gasped so loud that his sister came running up the stairs.
“Everything okay?” Laura asked, looking from her daughter to her brother.
Ellie flew into Matt’s arms. “Uncle Matt just told me he’s going to train Sparkle for me so we can adopt her!”
Laura smiled. “He told me all about it. I’ll miss having you around, though, Matt. You just got here.”
“I’ll be five minutes away,” he said. “And, Ellie, you’re welcome to come over whenever your mom says it’s okay. You can help me train Sparkle.”
“This is the best day of my life so far,” Ellie said, throwing her arms around Matt for another hug. “Thank you.”
“Anything for my favorite niece,” Matt said.
“Aren’t I your only niece?” Ellie asked.
“What about Sparkle? Isn’t she my other niece?”
“I guess she is!” Ellie said. “But don’t tell her I’m your favorite. She’ll get jealous.”
“I won’t.”
He glanced at Laura, who was smiling. He looked at Ellie, who was also smiling. Even the stuffed dogs were smiling.
But he wondered if Claire was even remotely happy about the situation. She saw a win-win for everyone and had made the offer. But he couldn’t imagine she’d be happy having him on her property.

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