“I’m scared she’ll show up again tonight, and I…” She bit her lip until it turned white under her teeth. “I don’t want to be alone.”
His heart nearly collapsed. Damn it. He’d never thought of that. He was thinking with one part of his body only. Of course she was scared. Of course she wanted him there. Of course it didn’t have to be about sex.
Not tonight. Not yet.
Slowly, he stood, and both dogs startled at the disruption of their sleep. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
He brought her up with one hand. “We’ll walk the dogs in the courtyard, make sure the entire building is locked tight, and then we’ll come back up, and you’ll go to bed.”
“And you?”
Looking down at her, he tapped her nose. “I will sleep right here on the not-really-pink sofa.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“I want you to,” she admitted. “I mean, I wanted you to say you’d sleep in my bed, but…the man’s got rules.”
“And the woman’s got to have her space.”
That made her sigh. “Think those walls will ever come down? For either of us?”
“Yes.” Why lie? It was only a matter of time. “Maybe when Stella can see, we’ll have some clarity, too.”
She slid against him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her cheek against his chest. “All the more reason to root for her.”
Chapter Nineteen
By Saturday afternoon, life had taken on a rhythm that felt entirely right to Josh, with the only cloud on the horizon the fact that they were always waiting for that visit from Savannah, but it never came. Nothing changed when he tried calling or texting, either. Except, now her “voice mail was full” so he mustn’t be the only person trying to track her down.
He slept on Darcy’s couch, which was both wretchedly uncomfortable and utterly good. Especially those mornings when she slipped onto the couch after he woke up to cuddle with him, sharing quiet talks and long, hungry kisses. Each kiss, each touch, each deeply intimate morning together took them closer to the inevitable. But by silent agreement, they waited. They both knew that once they made love, neither one would be “alone” again, and that changed everything. And that made every bit of physical contact even more electric and meaningful.
But they’d agreed to wait for Stella to see, and the anticipation was sweet and, somehow, even sexier than giving in to what they wanted.
But now, Josh worked out a now-familiar crick in his neck and looked around at the amazing progress they were making in the salon. Primarily because, as much as he’d thought he would, Josh wasn’t tackling the job alone.
Liam, Aidan, and Trace had all jumped at the chance to help move the project to completion when they’d talked about it over dinner at Waterford Farm on Wednesday. For one second, he’d seen Darcy hesitate, probably because she still clung to the idea that taking too much help from the family made her “dependent,” but Josh welcomed the assist and the company of these men. And credit to Darcy, she accepted their offer happily with nothing more than one of those silent looks of agreement she so frequently shared with Josh.
Garrett had a rescue dog to deliver today, so he couldn’t help, and Shane had training all morning, but planned to come over after lunch. Their father was working with Molly on a vet emergency in the town office, but he’d be over after that as well. Darcy had taken the dogs to Waterford Farm so they’d be safe from the construction dangers, but she would return later.
That left Josh working with two former military men and one former convict, all tied by blood or love to Darcy and committed to making her salon as perfect as she was. While Josh measured and cut two-by-fours for the reception wall, Liam assembled a row of various size crates and cages they’d brought from Waterford to hold the furry clientele. Trace was setting tile, and Aidan worked on the sink plumbing. They moved like a well-oiled machine, despite the fact that they were hardly trained subs. They listened to each other and respected the work.
Josh blew out a breath, feeling the quicksand of the Kilcannon family pulling him in deeper. The only thing as dangerous as falling for a woman again was falling for her family, too. As he knew, he’d have to trust them as much as he’d have to trust her if this thing continued.
This thing. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, but being with Darcy had added a dimension to his life he hadn’t expected and didn’t want to lose. It didn’t need to be defined, did it? No one was asking for it to have an official name, least of all Darcy, who in true free-spirit style couldn’t care less what people thought of their budding romance.
A few feet away, Liam adjusted the top of an oversized cage. “This one will be for the big boys and has to be the most secure.”
His every move was carefully watched by Zelda, a black and tan dog who looked a lot like a German shepherd, but was actually a Belgian Malinois. Liam had assured him Zelda was perfectly well-behaved and safe at a construction site, a fact Josh wouldn’t argue. Looking at that dog, he wouldn’t argue anything.
“Help me level this, Trace,” Liam said.
“On it.” Trace pushed up from where he was setting tile around the bathing sink and pulled back the short sleeves of his T-shirt, revealing heavily inked, but impressive biceps.
Aidan tossed a level to Trace, who caught the tool with one hand. “Don’t you have to leave soon, Trace?” he asked.
“Half an hour. Maybe more. I wanted to wait until Shane got here to finish this tile.”
“Don’t want to be late to interview the wedding planner,” Liam said with a wry chuckle. “As if you’re going to get an opinion.”
“Seriously,” Trace said. “Between Pru, Gramma Finnie, and my wife-to-be, I don’t have a whole lot to say about the wedding, other than ‘I do.’”
Liam laughed as he attached the final set of bars to the top of the cage and held it in place while Trace laid the level along the top beam. “You should have been at mine,” Liam said. “People went to a double engagement party, and a wedding broke out.”
Josh recalled the story Darcy had told him of how Liam and Andi had had a “surprise” wedding right in the house at Waterford Farm to stave off a custody battle for her young son.
“It worked, though,” Josh said. “Your son was safe.”
“And we still haven’t gotten around to that pesky annulment that was supposed to be part of the deal.” Liam grinned over his shoulder. “Truth be told, I didn’t know what hit me. And that was before I had a newborn.”
“The Dogfather hit you,” Trace teased. “Once he picks the match, that ship has sailed into the sunset.”
“True that.” Liam gave the dog cage a good shake. “Think that’ll hold a big beast?” he asked Trace.
“I’ve seen jail cells that were less secure. Hell, I’ve been in one,” he added, making them laugh.
They didn’t even judge him for that, Josh thought. The man had been imprisoned for fourteen years and he still was accepted and loved by this clan. Of course, he’d gone to prison unfairly after he’d accidentally killed a guy who’d attempted to rape a woman, and, in the process, missed the first thirteen years of Pru’s life, since he didn’t even know he had a daughter.
But, thanks to Daniel Kilcannon, the family was now reunited…and meeting with wedding planners.
“I better test the strength of this one,” Liam said, shaking the cage, then glancing at the dog. “Zelda. In.”
Instantly, the dog rose, trotted to the open crate, and walked in with plenty of room even for a huge dog. She turned to look at Liam as if she wouldn’t breathe without being instructed to do so. Liam closed the crate and locked it by sliding a dead bolt, the way all the smaller crates they’d installed that morning closed.
“Zelda. Out.”
The big dog took a breath, looked from one side to the other, then put a massive paw on the lock, worked her one paw pad through, and slid it open.
“Holy?
??wow.” Josh took a few steps closer, while the other men reacted with hoots and little surprise. “How’d she learn to do that?”
“Training,” Liam said. “And if she can, another dog can.” He opened the door and fluttered his fingers over the dog’s head, silent, staring at the crate and thinking.
The affection was all Zelda needed, returning to her spot to bask in the tiny bit of praise.
“I don’t think I’ve seen this dog around Waterford,” Josh said, still astounded.
“Zelda’s an obedience-school dropout who prefers to stay at home.” Liam grinned at the dog. “But we love her anyway. And so does Jag.”
At the word Jag, Zelda’s ears popped up and her big tail thumped once, cracking Josh up.
“If that’s what drops out of your obedience school, I’d hate to meet the valedictorian.”
“We get ten to twelve grand for those,” Liam told Josh. “And send them to compounds so the trillionaire types can be safe.”
Like the ones that prowled Buckingsham Palace grounds. “I have a combination lock,” Josh said. “Unless she can crack those, too.”
Liam laughed. “Not yet. And that’s perfect. We can resize the hole, and this large crate can be escape-proof.”
After getting the lock for them and Liam filed a new hole, Josh asked more about the K-9 training program, a topic that made even the usually quiet Liam talkative.
“Zelda didn’t quite make the cut,” Liam explained after he told Josh what was involved. “And she’s not people-oriented enough for Trace’s therapy training. But I kept her because…” Liam grinned at the dog before taking the screwdriver Trace handed him. “Every once in a while, there’s one you can’t let go.”
“Kinda like a woman,” Trace mused as he angled the drill into the new locking system.
“God knows we’ve all been there,” Aidan said on a laugh.
“Maybe not all,” Liam added with a quick look at Josh, the words almost drowned out by the high-pitched whine of the saw. “Yet.”
Josh let the two-by-four remnant clunk to the floor, making the others laugh at his reaction. He looked from one to the next, snorting softly at how pathetic they were at hiding what they wanted to know.
So maybe this thing needed a name after all. He didn’t think we’re waiting until Stella can see so we can rip each other’s clothes off and never come up for air would cut it with this crew. So he’d better get the topic off him and on them.
“Just to set the record straight,” he finally said, “Dr. K assured me that he had no hand in matchmaking this time.”
Their expressions shifted to something more like that’s hilarious and only an idiot would believe that.
Josh picked up the next two-by-four and laid it precisely on the measuring line. “I believe him when he says he wasn’t setting us up,” he said. “Of all the things I’ve learned about Daniel Kilcannon, one is that he’s a man of integrity.”
“He doesn’t lie,” Liam agreed.
“Well, then, he told me straight up to my face that he didn’t have any ‘intentions’ when he suggested Darcy look at the unit in my building. Maybe this time, it’s…organic.” Whatever it was.
“Maybe,” Aidan said.
“Always that chance,” Trace muttered.
Liam’s grunt was thick with skepticism.
“I believe him,” Josh insisted. “And I think one of the reasons is because he doesn’t want you guys messing with his personal life and setting him up with every woman over fifty and under seventy-five who doesn’t have a wedding ring on her finger.”
This time, the looks they shared were guilty, and for a moment at least, Josh and Darcy were forgotten.
“Mostly we’re kidding,” Trace said.
“It’s more of a family joke,” Aidan added.
But Liam was quiet, looking down at his next nail. “You might be right,” he finally said. “We should probably back off and can the mob mentality.”
Josh suspected the oldest Kilcannon sibling could rightly call a shot like that and his siblings would fall in line. But Liam had to call it, not Josh. Dr. K was their father, not his. “All I’m saying is you might not have the same magic touch your dad has.”
“But you do admit it’s magic,” Aidan said.
Josh considered that. Magic? “Maybe there’s a little psychology involved,” he suggested. “Like you know he’s behind it, so it has to work.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Liam said, low enough that it might have been for no one’s benefit but his own. “Because every damn one of us is happy.”
“Single people can be happy,” Josh challenged, keeping the edge out of his voice.
Aidan looked amused. “Man, you are drinking Darcy’s Kool-Aid.”
“Speaking of…” Trace pointed a subway tile to the window. There, side by side with the big red setter between them, Darcy walked with her father, deep in conversation punctuated by laughter so loud and sincere, Josh could hear it through the glass. “God only knows what they’re cooking up.”
“World domination,” Aidan joked.
“The next match,” Trace suggested.
Liam snapped the big combination lock into place, closing it with a noisy click. “Magic. Because, like it or not, my friend, that’s what it is.”
Josh couldn’t argue with a man who made that much sense.
* * *
Darcy leaned her head back against the headrest in Josh’s truck, closing her eyes to think about the week that had passed in a flash. So many great moments smashed into every day, she could hardly find the time to unpack each one and relive it. Like today, at Sunday dinner, when they’d ridden four-wheelers all over Waterford and she shared her best memories, and her worst. Later, a bunch of them took a pack of dogs for a walk to the lake, and when a few fish jumped, Garrett saw Josh’s reaction and suggested that next Sunday they come early and fish.
Next Sunday. That would be, what? Three in a row? Josh never didn’t want to go to Waterford Farm, in fact. He connected with her brothers, laughed with her grandmother, was patient with Christian, comfortable with her father, and fit in like…like…
Like he belonged there.
Josh reached for her hand in the dark cab of the truck, interlacing their fingers. “Thinking about Stella’s treatment tomorrow?” he guessed.
“Mmmm.” She gave the noncommittal answer because she didn’t want to lie. Not once in the time they’d known each other and gotten closer and closer had Darcy lied to him.
“You heard what your dad said, Darcy. They didn’t expect any change this week. So don’t worry. I think we’ll see a turnaround between the second and third treatment, like he said.”
“I guess.”
She felt his gaze on her. “That was what you were thinking about, right?”
Sometimes it felt like he knew her a little too well. “I’m thinking about my family…and you.”
Even in the dim light, she caught his somewhat surprised look. “Did I blow it today somehow? I meant to let Christian win that last game, but—”
“Josh, stop.” She squeezed his hand and brought it to her mouth for a quick kiss. “They love you.”
“It’s mutual.”
He loved them. Did he…mean that? “So, have I made a convert out of you? You on board the families-rock train?”
“Yours does,” he said. “I mean, you are all so devoted to each other.”
She felt her brow pull as she considered that. “We love each other, if that’s what you mean. I think most families do, Josh.”
“It goes deeper than that.” He stared at the dark road that led into Bitter Bark, narrowing his eyes. “You’d do anything for each other. Drop whatever. Look what your brothers and Trace are doing with your salon and how they all want to help each other with parts of Waterford Farm that don’t fall under their control.”
“You mean how they were all brainstorming the vet tech replacement or making suggestions for how to get those two rescue dogs to two different
places in the country on the same day?” She recalled the dinner conversation, which had been nothing but normal. “That’s how we run the business.”
His sigh sounded pained. “I think that’s the part that blows me away the most. You all run a business together. You don’t co-exist as relatives. There’s no jealousy, no in-fighting, no backstabbing.”
“God, no.” She dropped her head back again. “I’m grateful that there’s not.”
“I’m jealous,” he admitted. “And the more time I spend with them, the more time I want to spend with them.”
Speaking of jealous, a twinge of something that felt an awful lot like that emotion crawled up her back, settling in her chest, making her uncomfortable. “I’m glad you like them so much.”
After all, wasn’t he the one who’d said you marry a family, not a person? Was he falling in love with the Kilcannons…or—
The sharp trill of Josh’s cell phone broke into her thoughts.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” he said, reaching to the console where he kept his wallet and phone when he drove. “Sub probably canceling for tomorrow.” He flipped the phone over and glanced at it, grunting.
“Carlos?” she asked. “He’s so reliable.”
“Malcolm.” His voice turned to ice. “The last person I want to talk to right now.”
“Not counting Gideon and Savannah.”
He threw her a dry smile. “True. I’ll let it go to voice mail.”
“Why? It might be important.”
“Or it might be a guilt trip. He probably lost another candidate for the job he wants me to take and is juicing up the deal.” He shook his head and dropped the phone. “No, thanks.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.”
“It’d hurt me.”
She studied him for a long time. “Why, Josh? Because he sides with Gideon on most things? Because he married your mother? Because he needles you now and again? Or because…”
“He’s not Pops,” he finished, swallowing hard at the confession.
Pops. She’d heard him refer to his father with the cute nickname that always made her—and him—smile. But there was no smile tonight.