“You want rules.”
“Have you met me?”
She laughed a little, letting her cheek press his palm. “Okay, let’s see. The dogs come first. Both of them. Kookie and Stella. Their needs come before ours.”
He nodded. “Of course. The dogs I never wanted in my building are now a higher priority than anything.”
She grinned in victory. “Absolutely. And second, we’re in the Stella thing one hundred percent together. Finding Savannah, doing whatever we need to do in order for Stella to be part of the study, and tending to her during the procedures. Whatever it takes, we’re a team.”
“I love that,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m getting the better end of that, because you know so much about dogs and have the vets in the family.”
“It’s okay, because I want to be involved. I’m committed to that little darling now.”
“Awesome.” But what about them? “Anything else?”
“Before and during the treatments, or even if she doesn’t qualify, Stella gets trained to be around other dogs, and we are going to get her to be friends with Kookie. It might take work and patience, but I’m down if you are.”
“Fine. Friends with dogs means our dogs are friends, too. This keeps getting better.” But still not good enough. He stroked her cheek lightly, looking into her eyes, already aching to break rules and barriers and kiss her right here under the white lights of Bushrod Square. “Are there any other parameters? Like, for us? Rules about…kissing?”
“Kissing,” she whispered, and just the word on her lips made his body respond.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice husky, and he inched closer to her. “That.”
She drew in a slow breath, her eyes darker and deeper as they focused on his. “I could kiss.”
“Oh, I bet you can.”
She bit her lip. “But I can’t make any promises about…stopping.”
Her honesty rocked him, and the look on her face slayed him, and the way his body responded to her wet lower lip, he knew he couldn’t stop, either.
“We’d have to stop,” he whispered. “Otherwise…”
“We wouldn’t be friends. We’d be lovers with dogs. Big difference.”
Lovers. His skin felt fiery at the idea, his muscles taut, his blood thrumming hard out of his brain and headed for trouble.
“You really don’t want that,” she said, searching his face.
“Oh, I really do.”
She exhaled softly, dropping her gaze over his face, settling on his mouth, then looking back into his eyes. He could tell she struggled with the next breath and felt her pulse pound under his thumb as he stroked her jaw.
“Darcy,” he whispered. “If I get into bed with you, I’m a dead man.”
“Not sure it’ll be quite that good, but thanks.”
He didn’t laugh. “I won’t stop at once. I can’t be satisfied with casual. I won’t want to walk away.”
Her expressions shifted slightly, going from tantalizing to tense. “I don’t want that.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “I swore that I’d never put myself in that situation again.”
“So…you’re going full-on celibate?”
“I’m going full-on meaningless. When I’m with someone, I don’t want to…”
“Risk anything,” she finished for him.
“Exactly.”
She touched his face with her fingertips, grazing his cheek and jaw and lower lip. “You’re as scared as Stella.”
He couldn’t deny that. “And I was as blind, too.”
“So maybe there’s a cure for you, too.” She tipped her chin up, a little closer, a hairbreadth away, offering a kiss, comfort, and, possibly, that cure.
If only he could trust that’s all she offered. If only he wasn’t still black and blue from the last time. “I can’t,” he whispered.
“And I shouldn’t,” she replied.
For a long moment, they held each other’s gaze, both of them battling the couldn’ts and shouldn’ts they’d stacked around their hearts.
Darcy eased back first, scooping up her shoes. “I know of one little girl who’s home alone in a pillow fort right now, and Wheel of Fortune is long over.”
He swallowed his desire and tamped down the tension gripping his body. “Let’s go,” he said. “Let’s go be friends with dogs.”
She grimaced as she pulled on her shoes. “And rules.”
“And walls.”
“And doubts.”
“And fears.”
But not so many that they couldn’t hold hands on the way back to the dogs that mattered most.
Chapter Eleven
“You lied.” Josh’s accusation was barely audible over the cacophony of Stella’s whining, Kookie’s frantic barking, and the breeze blowing through the open windows of Josh’s black Ford F-150.
“About what?” Darcy asked, trying, and failing, to calm Kookie on her lap. But every time Stella cried, Kookie barked and tried to scramble off Darcy’s lap to get to the other dog.
“You called your family’s place a ‘canine facility.’”
“That’s what Waterford Farm is,” she said as they drove past the white fence that lined the western border of the property. “And it’s been home to the Kilcannon family for sixty-some years.”
“I was picturing an animal shelter.” He gestured to the rolling hills and glimpses of the buildings in the distance.
“Oh, well, yeah. It’s more of a refuge,” she said. “In so many ways.”
“This place is huge.”
“‘A hundred acres of happy,’” she said, quoting a line she’d often used in Instagram posts about Waterford Farm. “We run the largest canine training and rescue facility in the state. It’s all right here on the land that Gramma Finnie and Grandpa Seamus bought in the 1950s when they moved from Ireland to Bitter Bark, North Carolina.” She didn’t bother to hide the pride in her voice.
“What brought them here?”
“Oh, no,” she teased. “That’s Gramma Finnie’s story to tell and your test to pass.”
“Test?”
“If she likes you, you get the long version. And trust me, when an Irish storyteller wants to give you the long version, you better pour a drink and settle in.”
“And if she doesn’t like me?”
“You’ll know it. No Irish proverbs stitched on pillows for you. But you can read her blog.”
He threw her an understandably confused look. “Her blog?”
She merely gestured toward the gate and the WF logo made more festive by some playful paw prints Pru and her father, Trace, had painted recently. “Welcome to Waterford Farm, my friend.”
Inside those gates, they followed the long, winding drive at about five miles per hour since Josh was taking in the scenery as much as the road, which was nothing but tall trees, rolling hills, and deep-green grass.
Darcy inhaled deeply, sucking down the glorious smells of woods and earth and home.
“Let me get this straight.” Josh looked from one side to the other, then settled his gaze on her. “You voluntarily left this place?”
“It was time,” she said simply. “And I’m here practically every day and twice on Sundays, literally.”
He whipped around at the sight of a pond with ducks paddling about. “Can you fish out there?”
“Sure, and on a bigger lake we have on the property.” And a smaller one at the north quadrant on a piece of land her father had given her, since Waterford was technically divided into seven sections, each owned by a different Kilcannon. Only Liam had built on his, but some day, they all might.
“Wow. Has it always been a canine training facility?” he asked.
“No, the business of Waterford Farm started about four years ago, right after my mom died. Before that, we had some kennels because she was an obsessive dog adopter and foster parent. But it wasn’t until she died and we were all…” She couldn’t even think of a word to describe the darkness of losing a mother
in the prime of her life to a heart attack. “Well, we weren’t good. Especially my dad, who will be the first to tell you Annie Kilcannon was his whole life. Anyway, the day after her funeral, my dad had this wild idea that we would all move back to Bitter Bark and help him realize Mom’s lifelong dream. And we did, every one of us except Aidan, who was in the Army at the time. But he’s here now.”
“So you had moved out?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Darcy stroked Kookie’s head as the dog finally quieted, her mind drifting back to the early days that, in some ways, seemed like a lifetime ago. But in others, those miserable moments were as clear as yesterday. “I was in Seattle with a few of my siblings working at my brother’s dot-com business. Garrett founded PetPic and sold it to FriendGroup, and we all worked there, except for Molly, who has a daughter, Pru. Molly’s a vet with my dad.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “I’ll never get them all straight.”
“They all fall into place pretty easily,” she promised. “Everyone has a distinct personality and style, from two-month-old baby Fiona to octogenarian Gramma Finnie.”
He considered that and the surroundings some more. “And you all run this business harmoniously?”
“Of course.”
“I noticed an awful lot of digs and insults flying when you were moving in.”
“Not insults, but teasing. We kid a lot, yes, and we don’t let each other get away with much, but at the base of everything is the love that my parents had for each other and us.” She added an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the Hallmark commercial, but that’s who the Kilcannons are.”
He let out a soft whistle. “Not how the Bucking family works,” he said. “Bulletproof vests are required at every board meeting. Even my ninety-four-year-old stepgrandmother fires shots, that’s if she can remember when we have board meetings.”
“Well, we don’t have board meetings,” she said. “But we do have dinner together every Wednesday night and Sunday after church. All the decisions about running a business are made over Gramma Finnie’s bread pudding, and the only shots are Irish whiskey.”
“And what exactly does a ‘canine training and rescue facility’ do?” he asked.
“What don’t we do is a better question. For one thing, we teach people who want to be professional dog trainers and prepare them to start their own businesses. They come and stay here for whole semesters and learn all the tricks of good training and how to run a small business. Shane, my second-oldest brother, is in charge of that.”
“And the rescue business?”
“That’s the really fun part. We rescue and place dogs all over the country now that my brother Aidan has a plane to help Garrett get the dogs to forever homes. And fairly recently, we added a program to train service dogs, which is mostly done by my soon-to-be brother-in-law, Trace. And my oldest brother, Liam, heads our work with K-9s and law enforcement, and he also trains Schutzhunds, which are special guard dogs for high-end security clients.”
He laughed. “Oh, is that all?”
“No, actually, it’s not. My sister has a thriving vet business with four full-time vet techs helping out. Oh, and I believe I mentioned the blogging Gramma.” She pushed her hair back with mock smugness. “I come from a long line of superstars.”
“And the youngest of the family does all the grooming, which I imagine is a lot.”
She shrugged. “It’s a small contribution to the big picture, but it’s taught me my trade and kept me close to the family.”
“But you’re ready to strike out on your own?”
“I can do both,” she assured him. “Work here and in town.”
“I have no doubt you will do that with style and success.”
His faith in her, which she could tell was genuine, made her want to reach over and take his hand, but…she wasn’t sure if the friends-with-dogs rules allowed any displays of affection. And that was going to be a problem if she spent too much time with him, because all she wanted to do was break rules and display affection.
He pointed at Garrett’s Jeep, parked along the side of the drive. “That’s quite the color yellow.”
“The color of a forever home. Garrett takes that and wears his ‘doggone hat’ whenever he takes a rescue to his or her new family.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “He wore it to move you into the apartment.”
“It was a family joke,” she told him with a roll of her eyes.
“Insiders only?”
“My brothers think it’s hilarious that Dad is up to his matchmaking tricks with me,” she explained. “So Garrett was making ‘forever home’ jokes.” She flicked her fingers to tell him not to worry. “Just ignore them. And my dad if he starts, you know, trying to set wedding dates.”
His eyes widened a little.
“Kidding.” Kind of.
“Well, I told you if you want him to back off because he thinks we’re, you know, a thing, we can.”
“We are a thing.” She poked his shoulder, hitting that wonderfully solid muscle and maybe the shell he so protectively kept around his broken heart. “We’re friends with dogs, remember? If that’s not ‘a thing,’ then I don’t know what is.”
He smiled. “Is it enough of a thing to keep your dad from lining up every unmarried guy in Bitter Bark like an all-you-can-eat buffet?”
The image cracked her up, but she nodded. “It might be.”
“Good.”
She studied him for a minute. “Good, because that’s what I want, or good, because you want to help me, or good, because…” You don’t want me to date anyone else. She swallowed that thought and waited for his answer, surprised at how tight her throat was and how much it mattered. It shouldn’t matter. It had no right mattering. She’d known him for a couple of days.
But ever since last night, after sitting barefoot on that bench next to him, Josh Ranier had started mattering way more than he should.
“It’s just good,” he said, turning the last corner where the big yellow house with green shutters and tall chimneys and a wide wraparound porch came into view.
He stared at it as he pulled the truck to the side of the driveway. “That right there? That’s one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen.”
She sighed at the change of subject, shifting her attention to the rambling, sunny farmhouse that represented the heart and soul of Waterford Farm.
“My grandparents built the original house when my dad was a baby,” she told him. “It’s been added to a lot, over the years, especially by my mother. After he and my mom got married, they lived here and raised us all here. In fact, that was my room right up there…” She pointed to a second-floor window.
“Nice.”
“But now I have my Juliet balcony.”
“Rapunzel,” he teased, looking left to the training pen at the center of the facility. There, Shane stood with his hands on his hips, and Liam was circling with a new German shepherd he was training. Garrett was with them, too, listening and laughing about whatever Shane was spouting off. “Looks like my brothers are taking training breaks. Let’s take Stella over and talk to them.”
From behind the wheel, he regarded the three men carefully.
“They’re not like your wicked stepbrother,” she assured him, sensing hesitation. “They’re friendly and nice and, in the case of Liam, love dogs much more than people.”
“Which one of them worked with Stella yesterday? Shane, right?”
“Yes, and he’s a true dog whisperer, though they are all amazing with animals. Shane gets into a dog’s head the most, though. Liam is super consistent, like you would expect from a guy who trained dogs in the Marines. And Garrett loves them into submission. Aidan has only been back a few months, and he’s really found his calling with the air transport business. Oh, he and Beck, his fiancée, have already adopted two of their own dogs, and rumor has it they’re looking into fostering some more since they’re buying a house and getting married next year.”
“He??
?s only been back a few months and he’s engaged? Did he know her before?”
She made a face, almost not sure she should answer.
“The Dogfather,” he said, figuring it out.
“It’s a little freaky,” she agreed. “But don’t worry. We’re on to him.” She hurried to unlatch her seat belt before the conversation got awkward. “Come on, meet my family. You’ll love them.”
He sighed as he got out of the truck. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered under his breath.
Afraid of? Darcy stilled in the process of climbing out, ready to ask for an explanation of that, but he was already standing next to the truck, and something told her she wasn’t supposed to hear the throwaway comment anyway.
What was he afraid of? Liking her brothers? Or that her father was about to make match number six? Hadn’t she been clear enough in telling him that wasn’t what she wanted?
“Any of them specialize in blind dogs?” he asked.
“That one.” She pointed at her grandmother, who was coming down the steps of the porch, carrying a tray with tall glasses of water and lemonade. She was headed toward the living quarters, probably to help Crystal, the housekeeper, set up a midmorning snack for the trainees.
“Don’t tell me. Gramma Finnie the storytelling blogger?”
Still holding Kookie, she opened the passenger side door of the cab to get some of Stella’s things, leaning down to catch his gaze across the bench seat where he unlatched the crate. “She’s also one of the coolest people you’ll ever meet.”
His hand rested on Stella’s cage, but he studied Darcy carefully. “Unwanted advice?”
“You need some, or you’re going to dole it out?” she asked.
“Dole.” All humor had disappeared from his face. “Trust me on this, Darcy. You do not want to mess with this family dynamic.”
“Mess with…” She angled her head, confused. “Do you mean by fixing up my dad?” she guessed.
“Or anything that would upset an apple cart so perfect it actually hurts.” His gaze shifted away as if he didn’t want to elaborate, but she read his expression anyway. Something about all this actually hurt him.
Darcy turned from him to set Kookie on the ground and set her toward Gramma Finnie. “Go tell her, Kooks. Tell her how upset you are with this new dog.”