“Nope. I’m just smart.”
Or scared to death. “Well, don’t tell my dad you’re anti-marriage, because he’ll start another full-court press, and I don’t feel like living my life not knowing who’ll be my next surprise blind date.”
“Your secret’s safe.” He inched by her, and the ladder brushed her bag. She tried to turn before Kookie responded, but it was too late. A white furry head with a pink bow shot straight up, making the man freeze and hiss in a surprised breath. “Oh, you have more than one secret.”
Busted. “Say hi to Kookie Kilcannon, my beloved pupper and partner in crime.”
He blinked at Kookie, and graced them both with one more smile. Then his gaze shifted to Darcy. “She’s cute, but I have a strict no-pets policy.”
“You should have told my father that. Then he’d know we don’t have a chance, because I’d have no interest in someone who doesn’t like dogs.”
“I like dogs,” he said quickly. “And that’s why they can’t be in the building.”
She tipped her head. “Man, you are terrified of attachment.”
He flinched a bit at the comment, which she suspected hit too close to home. “This is a construction zone. The unit next door is being demolished down to the studs and rebuilt, and I know you are aware of that. An animal that gets into a hard-hat area is a liability to itself and the workers, so, sorry, this is policy.”
Kookie would never be out of her sight. “Well, it’s a dumb policy.”
“It was in the contract.”
“Must have been very fine print.”
“Not at all. It’s stated clearly under special terms and conditions, provision three, line six. Until such time that there is no construction taking place, tenant may not house uncaged animals.”
“Uncaged animals?” She snorted. “I thought you were referring to lions and tigers.”
“Snakes and gerbils are fine, assuming they’re in a cage.”
“But adorable creatures with big eyes and pretty hair who want nothing but affection are not?”
He lifted a brow. “I let you in, didn’t I?” When her jaw dropped, he used his free hand to slide it back in place. “Really sorry, but if something happened to it, the liability could put me out of business.”
“She, not it.” She narrowed her eyes at him to make her point. “This dog is a being with a heart and soul. Which might be more than I can say about you.”
That didn’t faze him as he walked to the door. “Like I said, I’m sorry, but those are the rules.”
“I don’t like rules.”
“Shocker,” he murmured as he opened the door and stepped outside, leaving her fuming as the door closed behind him.
“You know what else is a shocker, Hot Landlord? Kookie isn’t going anywhere. She’ll live here come hell, high water, or all your stupid rules.”
Kookie barked once, in complete agreement.
Chapter Four
Darcy spotted Ella Mahoney sipping a white wine at the bar as soon as she walked into Bushrod’s a few minutes later. But she wasn’t alone, of course. Darcy and Ella had learned right around the time they’d turned sixteen or seventeen that having so many older brothers meant having bodyguards. But at least her now-married or nearly-married four brothers had backed off a bit.
Not so the Mahoney men. Somehow, they always knew if Ella and Darcy were meeting for drinks, and one or more managed to show up and “join” them. That had obviously happened tonight, since Ella was flanked by two muscular, handsome men who looked like they could kill anyone who came close to their baby sister.
“Hey, Mahoney crew,” she called as she crossed the scarred wooden floor and navigated a few crowded tables of the locals’ favorite watering hole, Kookie leading the way on her leash. Like almost all of Bitter Bark’s businesses, Bushrod’s was not only dog friendly, but welcoming, with at least three other dogs in the bar right at that moment.
Braden, the youngest of Ella’s three older brothers, slid off his barstool to give Darcy a hug and offer her the seat.
Both he and Connor wore navy blue Bitter Bark Fire Department shirts and khaki pants, probably fresh off duty at the station where they worked with their oldest brother, Declan, who’d recently made captain.
She hugged Connor, too, sharing a knowing smile with Ella over his sizable shoulder.
“God forbid we get girl time alone,” Ella said dryly, running a hand through her short, spiky dark hair and somehow making it look even more adorable and tousled.
“We finished a shift and wanted a beer,” Connor said.
Ella rolled her eyes. “You should be dead on your feet after a shift and trust your sister and cousin to have a glass of wine without needing supervision.”
Braden gave her a look that said the very notion was insane. “You give yourself too much credit. I don’t see a line of guys trying to buy you drinks, Smella.”
“’Cause the firefighters would hose them down.” She waved him off, unaffected by the nickname her brothers had hung on her since she was a child. With her pixie haircut, giant brown eyes, and a wide showstopper of a smile, she could have been called Stink Bomb—and probably was by those three—and it wouldn’t have put a dent in Ella Mahoney’s self-confidence.
Even though Darcy was younger than Ella by a few months, she was the more careful of the two, not nearly as impetuous as her cousin. Ella did things—like start her own business—while Darcy only thought about doing them for a year.
But all that was about to change.
“Champagne, Darcy?” Connor asked. “We hear you’re celebrating.”
She slid onto the barstool. “I’ll have the bad white wine that Ella’s having. I’m only almost celebrating.”
Braden leaned closer to talk over the bar noise as Connor flagged down the bartender. “But Ella told us that you found a place in Ambrose Acres. Pretty ritzy, I’d say.”
“I did, but I had a run-in with the landlord.” She snapped her fingers at Kookie and pointed under the bar, where she wanted the dog to sit. Instantly, Kookie obeyed, like the angel she was.
The angel who wasn’t welcome in her new apartment.
“What’s the problem?” Braden asked.
“I wish it was just that the owner has a no-pets policy, but it’s worse than that.”
Ella gasped. “You can’t live without Kookie.”
“I won’t. I’ll hide her if I have to, but no, that’s not what I’m upset about.”
They all looked at her expectantly as Connor handed her a glass of wine.
“It’s a setup.”
“What do you mean?” Ella asked.
“I mean, this apartment is one big blind date arranged by my father.” She took a healthy gulp of wine as they reacted with an expected howl of hilarity. “Laugh all you want, but the man drives me to drink.”
“Uncle Daniel?” Connor asked. “The guy’s a saint.”
“A saint who thinks he knows everything about romance and is some kind of Fiddler on the Roof with a magical touch and a mission to marry off every kid he has.” She looked skyward. “I can’t imagine why he’d think I’d like…” She stopped and pictured the hot landlord. “Yeah, I can.”
“Oh.” Ella inched forward, always in tune with Darcy’s subtext. “How’s your dad’s taste?”
“Impeccable,” Darcy deadpanned. “Because of course Daniel Kilcannon wouldn’t want to water down the gene pool.”
Connor and Braden laughed at that, but Ella put her hand on Darcy’s arm. “Details, please. Hair that kisses the collar and begs to be touched? Eyes that draw you in, hold you forever, and refuse to let go? A body that makes a grown woman cry?”
Darcy cracked up over her cousin’s penchant for drama in everything, but Braden choked and Connor gave his little sister a playful jab of his elbow. “And you call men sexist.”
She waved him off. “Stay home if you don’t want to know the soft underbelly of what we say about the less fortunate gender. Hit me, Darce.”
She sighed and easily conjured a memory of the man. She probably could have said, All of the above, and been done with it, but she didn’t want to admit Dad’s choice was that dead-on.
“Chestnut hair, dark eyes, and his body is…” Sublime. Ridiculous. Delicious. “You know, a body.”
“What does that mean?” Braden asked.
“So good she can’t possibly put it into words,” Ella supplied, making Darcy lift her glass and tap her cousin’s, thanking God they were so utterly in tune with each other.
“You know what else I can’t put into words?” she asked. “How ticked off I am that my dad won’t let me live my own life.” She took another deep drink. “How is a person ever supposed to achieve independence when her father thinks he’s Cupid?”
“Uncle Daniel is not anything but one of the greatest guys who ever lived,” Braden shot back.
“Hear, hear.” Connor lifted his glass. “You’re not going to get any of his nieces or nephews to talk smack about our favorite uncle.”
Darcy smiled at them both, loving their loyalty. Their mother had been widowed much longer than Darcy’s dad had been. The Mahoney kids had grown up without a father, and she knew that their uncle Daniel had relished the role he’d played in helping Aunt Colleen raise such amazing people.
“Then get back to the smoke-fest landlord and why this ‘setup’ is a problem for you?” Ella said. “Because so far I’m thinking I should put my name on Uncle Daniel’s list for when he runs out of kids and wants to start hottie hookups for single cousins.”
“He doesn’t hook anyone up,” Darcy replied. “He gets them engaged, married, and sometimes with child.” She gave her cousin a warning look. “I don’t want any of that. Not yet. Not now.” After a lifetime of being cared for by everyone, she might not want it ever. “Plus, why wouldn’t he simply say, ‘Hey, you might like the landlord,’ instead of subterfuge and manipulation?”
Ella shrugged. “Probably because he knew you’d say no to the apartment and the guy.”
“Exactly.”
“He’s not manipulating,” Connor said. “He wants his kids happy, is all. And most of them are.”
“All of them would be,” Darcy shot back, “if the youngest could be given a chance to breathe without assistance.”
“So tell Uncle Daniel he’s barking up the wrong tree,” Braden said, adding a grin. “See what I did there? ’Cause he’s the Dogfather? And a vet?”
Ella and Darcy both rolled their eyes, but the bad joke made Connor reach over their heads and give his brother a high five in solidarity.
“If I do that, he’ll start the clock ticking on the next guy,” Darcy said. “He’s not going to stop, no matter what he says or promises.”
“You need to use reverse psychology on him,” Ella suggested.
“Tell him I’m dying to get married and he’ll freak out and let me be?” she guessed. He was having trouble with her moving out.
“Tell him he nailed it. Tell him you’re totally into the landlord and the feeling is mutual and please leave you alone for a while so you can get this thing off the ground.” Ella crossed her arms and gave a smug smile. “Problem solved.”
“Until he finds out we can’t stand each other.”
“Maybe that won’t happen,” Braden suggested. “Maybe you’ll like each other.”
“And then he’ll have done it again and my life will be over because some guy who lives and dies by the rules gets control over me.” She squeezed her eyes and grunted in frustration, making Kookie rise up and lick her toe to make sure everything was okay. “How could he even dream I’d be attracted to a man who has a no-pets policy in his apartment building?”
“Does he hate dogs?” Ella asked. “Because, whoa, major deal killer.”
“He says he likes them, but the unit next to mine is undergoing a complete renovation, and he said he can’t risk having a dog near a hard-hat area. It’s a liability.” She drew the word out, mocking his seriousness. Which was kind of hot, too, if she had to admit it. Which she wouldn’t, especially not to Ella, who’d drill down until she figured out that Darcy was fried by the very sight of the guy. “As if I’d be so reckless as to let my dog in a construction area. She goes everywhere I do—to work and play.”
“Then maybe Ella’s got a good idea,” Connor said. “Tell Uncle Daniel you’re into the guy, and he’ll back off.”
“But what if they meet? Mr. Rule Follower isn’t going to lie. I’m sure he thinks his face would fall off.”
“Which would be a shame,” Ella added.
“You have no idea.” They shared a laugh and tapped glasses again. “But it was a good thought, and we have much to celebrate, Cuz. I’m moving into the place tomorrow. With Kookie, so Smoke-Fest Landlord can cry me a river.”
“You need help?” Connor asked. “Braden and I are both off shift.”
“Thanks, Con. Pretty sure every Kilcannon in town has announced that they’ll be helping me.” Which she loved them for and certainly didn’t want to move in without help, but it wasn’t like anyone gave her a chance to figure that out on her own. They merely all announced they’d be there with trucks and Jeeps and doughnuts.
Because…Kilcannons.
“So, what about the grooming business?” Braden asked.
“Is this studio going to be the color of candy like the one at Waterford?” Connor teased. “’Cause I get a toothache walking in that place.”
She laughed. “Actually, I’m thinking about something very contemporary, maybe cool blue or gray. It’s going to be a salon, not a studio. Full service, with reception, holding areas, bathing and drying, styling and finishing, and a workflow.”
“Oh, I found a picture on Pinterest,” Ella said, pulling out her phone. “It has the perfect little bathing area. Look.”
The conversation easily shifted to the space that Darcy had leased and how they could build it out for dog grooming, taking her mind off the encounter with the landlord.
Mostly. But even as she talked, laughed, and finished her glass of wine, Darcy’s thoughts slipped back to that apartment and the man with intense eyes, a sexy mouth, and that impossibly strong chest.
But it wasn’t the eyes, mouth, or chest that had made Dad select this one for Darcy. No, she saw something else in this man, something that went deeper than looks. Probably the same thing Dad saw.
And that’s what really scared the hell out of her.
* * *
She was crazy.
Crazy gorgeous, crazy smart-mouthed, and crazy trouble.
Which was why he’d been so cold the night before. And why Josh looked out his living room window the next morning and swore he would not, under any circumstances, go out and help Darcy Kilcannon move in, no matter how unchivalrous that might be.
The universe was testing his resolve, and he wouldn’t lose this fight.
It had been a month. And three days. But nothing had changed since that morning he’d found Savannah in a T-shirt fresh out of bed with Gid. Yeah, the sharp pain had dulled to a numb ache in his chest. The metallic taste of hot anger and raw betrayal every time he swallowed had all but disappeared. And he was sleeping again, waking up bathed in sweat and loneliness, but he solved that with a cold shower and a renewed sense that he would never again make himself vulnerable.
Then a woman so insanely attractive he could barely speak when he laid eyes on her landed in his building as a tenant. If Darcy had been right in her musings about her father, then the man couldn’t have picked a worse prospect for his daughter.
But he needn’t have worried about doing the decent thing and helping a single woman move furniture, he realized as he sipped his coffee and studied the little caravan that had pulled up outside his living room window. Fact was, it looked like the cast of The Waltons had shown up to help their little sister move into her new apartment, arriving in two pickup trucks, an ugly yellow Jeep, and a twenty-year-old refurbished Plymouth Voyager.
Each vehicle was driven
by a different jacked-up guy, all accompanied by attractive women, plus a little boy who was regularly reduced to fits of giggles. Oh, and there was a teenage girl and an old lady with their heads huddled over a tablet computer.
He let his gaze scan the group, seeing a definite family resemblance among many of them. Most of the men shared a strong jaw and similar bone structure. One of the women, though she had wavy auburn hair, had that same enchanting smile he’d seen a few times in his brief exchange with Darcy the night before. A sister, he guessed.
So these must be the Kilcannons and the significant others Darcy claimed were a result of her father’s matchmaking. He glanced around for the tall, commanding figure of the man he’d met at the town meeting, but Dr. K, as everyone called him, hadn’t come for the moving party.
And then Darcy pulled up last in a bright red hybrid with all the windows and a sunroof open, classic rock reverberating loudly enough for him to make out Robert Plant’s voice.
She whipped into a spot behind a truck and in front of the van, then popped out of the car like a sex kitten exploding from a cake. Blond, bright, beautiful, and somehow more alive than most of the people on earth.
Through the open window, he could hear her laugh, a sound that seemed to reach into his chest and readjust everything that was supposed to be frozen in place by the ice that had formed around his heart.
Oh, no. She wasn’t melting that with all her warmth and wit. Not happening.
The family gathered around Darcy like she was the sun at the center of their galaxy, laughing, hugging, planning their attack on Josh’s building. She lifted the little boy in her arms, whispered in his ear, then pointed to the second floor, making the child kick with glee over whatever she’d promised.
Josh never imagined he’d be so jealous of a second grader.
One of the men said something that cracked them all up, but Darcy set the boy down so she could elbow that guy in the ribs, shaking her head with sassy defiance that made her long ponytail swing like a pendulum. Then she strode to one of the trucks and whipped off a blanket to reveal a sofa the color of cotton candy.