Liam dropped the treat, and instantly, Zelda let go, but Jag was still freaked out, barking and snapping and jumping at the fence. Fully distracted, he stood on his hind legs and slammed the chain link, then turned and lost all control, throwing all his weight against Christian, who fell backward.
“Zimmer!” Liam yelled, running as fast as he could in the damn fifty-pound suit. “Zimmer! Jag, Zimmer!”
The barking stopped, and Jag froze over Christian, looking from him to Liam, not sure of where he should focus as Andi reached the two of them. She dropped to Christian’s side with a soft shriek of horror.
“Zimmer!” Liam called one more time, more out of frustration because Jag was stone-still now. The dog backed up, sat down, and stared at Christian as if he, too, was horrified at his own behavior.
“Zimmer,” Christian muttered, still horizontal but pushing up on his elbows on the grass that had surely softened his fall.
“Are you okay?” Andi asked, putting her hand on her son’s face.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stared at Liam, who would have vaulted the fence if not for the bite suit, so he held the chain link instead, scanning Christian for any sign of an injury. “Is that it, Liam?” Christian demanded. “Is that the secret word?”
Liam let out an exhale of pure relief, aware that Zelda came trotting over to check out the scene. She barked once at Jag, who didn’t move or even glance at her, far too chastised to communicate with the new arrival.
“Yes,” Liam finally said. “Zimmer stops him from doing anything.”
Including taking his agitation out on someone he should protect.
Christian sat all the way up, pale but smiling. “Jag told me we’d get it out of you.”
Liam wanted to laugh, but his heart was slamming his chest too hard. “I should have told you sooner. What are you guys doing here?”
Andi looked up at him. “Is it okay? Were we not supposed to bring Jag here?”
“No, it’s fine,” he assured her. “Better if he doesn’t see me getting eaten by the new girl, but he’s fine.” He glanced at Jag, who hadn’t budged, abject self-hatred in his eyes. “Hang on a second.”
By this time, Shane came over with a leash for Zelda, but his attention was on Christian, too. “You okay, bud?” he asked.
Christian nodded. “Jag just got scared, is all.”
Shane threw a look at Liam. “Kid’s a natural. You should have them do a little makeup playtime.”
Liam unzipped the wretched suit, spreading it wide to let air on his chest. He pushed it off his shoulders and shook out of it, realizing that both Andi and Christian were staring at him. Maybe for two different reasons.
Liam glanced at the T-shirt he often wore under bite suits, reading the words upside down.
Dogs (Because People Suck)
Christian giggled. “Mommy says suck isn’t always a nice word.”
“Shane gave this to me last Christmas,” he said, throwing a look at his brother. “He’s not always a nice guy.”
Shane laughed. “That captures you in a shirt, big man.”
Stepping out of the suit completely, he glanced at Andi, who was still catching her breath after the run, but her attention was definitely off her son and on him. She stared at the sweaty shirt, let her gaze drop lower over his thousand-year-old khaki shorts, and her expression suddenly looked very much like it had in bed last night. Hungry. Hot. Ready to pick up where dogs and kids and noises in the night had stopped them.
Hell, one more minute of a look like that and the dogs would smell the pheromones in the air.
“Not all people suck,” she said softly, finally meeting his gaze. The heat melted into something less sexual but no less powerful. “Sorry if our timing was bad. We wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m glad,” he said simply. “Shane, can you take Zelda and my suit back to the kennels? I want to help Christian and Jag smooth things out.”
“Sure thing.” He gave Christian a wink as he put a leash on Zelda. “You were good and calm,” he said. “Jag’s lucky to have a master like you.”
“I’m his master?” Christian asked, pushing himself up to a stand.
“You know the code word now,” Liam said. “That makes you the boss.”
His little face lit up to a thousand watts.
Carrying the suit, Liam walked with Shane and Zelda to the gate about fifty feet away. As they reached it, he handed Shane the suit and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
Shane shot him a look. “I’ll tell you one thing, big bro. That woman is not acting.”
He snorted. “Lust ain’t love.”
“You sound like one of Gramma Finnie’s blog posts.”
Liam grunted.
“What the hell?” Shane asked. “Normally, even you would laugh at that.”
He stole one quick glance to where Andi and Christian were talking, noticing Jag had still not moved. He had to get Christian and that dog together, fast. “’Cause nothing’s normal,” he mumbled.
“Want my advice?” Shane asked.
“Not particularly.”
“Try and remember she’s not a dog.”
He gave his brother the dirtiest look he could muster. “Shut the hell up, Shane.”
“I mean it. You can’t biosensor her into loving you. She’s a woman, not a female. There’s a big difference.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Not to mention that three or four months ago, cocky Shane would have been doling out the polar-opposite advice, but Chloe sure had changed him.
“You got to get to their heart, Brother. Not just their body.”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do with her since day one?”
Shane looked past him, back to Andi. “Well, in my kind of professional opinion, you’ve succeeded. Now close the deal.”
“I am. On Saturday night.”
Shane grinned. “Make it real.”
Liam closed his eyes. That was all he wanted in the world. “Thanks for the brilliant advice,” he said, layering some sarcasm in there.
“Oh, I know you think you have this all figured out, but trust me, sometimes we gotta be hit with a two-by-four.”
“A two-by-four?” Liam nodded. “You’re a freaking genius, Shane.”
“I know.”
Rolling his eyes, Liam hustled back to Andi and Christian.
“Is Jag okay?” Christian asked as Liam approached. “He’s not moving.”
“He’s a little traumatized because he scared you, and he knows that was wrong.” Liam put his hand on Christian’s shoulder and reached for Andi’s. “Here’s what we need to do now. We take Jag to a place where he’s never had anything but good memories. It’s his play place. I’ve never trained him there, but only took him for fun and love.”
Christian nodded, all serious as they took a few steps toward the dog. “Then what, Liam?”
“Then you are going to play with him, hug him, pet him, throw tennis balls to him, and every single instruction, every word, is going to come from you, not me. You’ll establish the bond and show him that you not only forgive him, you love him completely. And he’ll love you back so hard you won’t believe it.”
“Wow.” Christian’s jaw dropped as he looked from Liam to Andi to Jag and back to Liam. “Will that really work?”
“Guaranteed,” Liam promised him, nudging him closer. “You take over from here. You know everything about him now. Even the secret code word. Stay here alone with him and pet him while your mom and I get the Jeep.”
“Where are we going, Liam?” Christian asked.
“Somewhere special.” Special to Liam, anyway.
“Where is it?” he demanded, proving the dog hadn’t knocked the relentless out of him.
“My place.”
“Your house?”
“My…” He glanced at Andi, who was looking at him intently. “My favorite place in the world.”
Her eyes flickered wi
th interest—in him and his favorite place. He could only hope she loved it like he did.
* * *
It had taken only a few minutes to reach Liam’s destination, but it might as well have taken a few hours, the expansive setting seemed so far away from the house and outbuildings of Waterford Farm. They’d traveled over a rutted dirt road, through some thick woods, past a mud-filled gulley that Liam swore was the best part of a long trail built for mudding, and along a creek. Finally, it became impossible to drive anymore, even for an off-road vehicle like the Jeep.
When Liam stopped and they all climbed out and gazed up the good-sized hill, Jag barked for the first time since they’d left the training field.
“You take him from here, Christian,” Liam said. “Up to the top of the hill. There’s a wooden bench under a big oak tree. Lift the lid and you’ll find a treasure trove of dog toys. Jag will show you.”
Both Christian and Jag took off, running up the hill at full speed, but Andi held back, still trying to take in this piece of paradise she’d never seen before.
“Where are we, exactly?” she asked.
“We’re at the northeast border of Waterford’s one hundred acres. Gramma Finnie calls this Mount Leinster, after one of her favorite places in southeast Ireland, near where she was born. She says this reminds her of those hills, and she used to bring her son Liam here when he was a little boy.”
Andi slowed her step, taking in this family history. “There’s another Liam in the family?”
“Not anymore. He died young. He was my father’s older brother, and the baby Gramma Finnie and Grandpa Seamus had with them when they moved here from Ireland.”
“Waterford,” she said slowly. “So Waterford is named after that Waterford? The place famous for the crystal?”
“The very same. My Grandpa Seamus’s family business was glassblowing, and he’d inherited it in the early 1950s when Waterford Crystal came roaring back to life to rebuild their dying brand. They offered Grandpa a ton of money for his business, and he and Gramma Finnie had just had their first baby. So they took the money and moved to America, settling in Bitter Bark because, as the story goes, their dog howled when he heard the name.”
She chuckled at that. “You never told me all of that.”
“Can’t believe Gramma Finnie hasn’t told you yet. It’s her favorite story.” He took her hand and led her toward the sound of Jag barking and Christian laughing. “Give her a shot of Jameson’s and you’ll get the long version.”
She laughed, thinking of the little old woman throwing back whiskey. “So, is this the highest point of Waterford Farm?”
“There’s a place on our mudding trail we call the lookout, and it might be higher, but it’s not, in my opinion, quite as pretty.”
“It is stunning, Liam.” They climbed higher, and with each step, the view was more incredible. There were groupings of trees and acres of verdant grass, with creamy patches of Queen Anne’s lace fluttering in the breeze.
“It’s mine.”
She stopped walking. “Excuse me?”
“When Dad came up with the idea that we all leave our lives and jobs and return to Bitter Bark to run the canine training facility, he thought he had to sweeten the deal by giving us each ten acres and keeping forty for himself.”
Her jaw loosened, and a few unexpected chills rose on her arms. “You own this land?”
He nodded. “Don’t know what I’ll do with it, but Gramma picked this parcel for me, on account of my namesake, Uncle Liam. I like to come here, though, to think and chill. It’s my own personal sanctuary.”
They almost reached the crest of the hill, the sun warm enough to have Andi’s neck feel damp under her hair. There, she could turn a three-sixty and drink in the endless scenery that literally hurt her heart, it was so beautiful.
“Can you build on it?”
“I can do anything I want, but I haven’t given it much thought. None of us have, actually, and we all have spectacular pieces of land. Dad’s dream was a Kilcannon compound, I’m sure, all peppered with happily married couples he matched up.” He gave an easy laugh. “He’s transparent as hell, isn’t he?”
“He’s wonderful, and so is this. What a house you could build here, Liam. I mean, I’m sure you’re happy where you are.”
“My little split-level that was built the same year I was born? It’s just a house, not a…” He cleared his throat as if he’d realized he’d gone too far.
“Not a home?” she suggested.
“Yeah.”
“Well, this could be.” She narrowed her eyes as she turned, imagining the best location on the site for a house. In the distance, Jag ran after a ball with Christian, and instantly, she could see that as a huge backyard, perfect for kids and dogs and…
She swallowed as an unexpected pang of longing hit. “There’s lots of potential,” she said quickly.
He walked her under a massive oak, lowering the lid of a weathered, wooden box to make a seat for them. “I keep the dog toys in here,” he said, brushing some dirt and leaves off the top. “But I like to sit here and look.”
She nodded. “This would be the front porch, then.”
“You think?” A smile tugged. “That would be… Maybe you can give me some ideas some time?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll pay for your time.”
Because it would, of course, be a business arrangement. She tamped down the twist of disappointment. “After what you’ve done for me? You can have some plans on the house.”
“Literally.”
She laughed at the pun. “For the house and on the house.”
She gazed out at the vista, which seemed to be nothing but miles and miles of undulating green hills under blue skies. “This is absolutely glorious.”
“Oh, you should see it in the fall. About the third week in October? It’s nothing but red and gold and…heaven.”
“I’d like to see that,” she admitted. “Think I will?”
He looked at her, quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I guess it depends.”
Holding his gaze, she had to ask the question. “On what?”
On us, she waited for him to respond. “On how fast the wheels of justice turn.”
“Of course.” She turned and focused on Christian for a moment, where her focus should always be. “And speaking of those wheels of justice, I need to tell you about the meeting with my lawyer this morning.”
“Oh, yeah. We were so busy with Jag, I forgot to ask you. How’d that go?”
She sighed, wishing they could talk more about houses and history and not legal wrangling and wheels of justice. “I’m fighting everything,” she said. “The stupid, illegal stipulations, her claims that I’m unfit, any possibility of anyone, anywhere raising Christian other than me. Here, in Bitter Bark, where I want to be.”
The speech finished, she turned to him, waiting for a response.
Typical Liam, he nodded silently. After an interminable minute, he said, “Then we have an important errand to run tomorrow morning.”
She lifted her brows in question.
“A marriage license. We can get one at the town hall and double-check to be sure that Mayor Wilkins will be at the house on Saturday.”
For reasons she’d never understand, her heart flipped around a bit at the idea of actually getting that marriage license. Even though it was part of her fight against Nora Scott. “Okay, then we’re really doing this? We’re getting married.”
“For better or worse.”
She smiled. “Very funny.”
“And, if you don’t mind, I’ve gone ahead and booked the night at the Bitter Bark Bed & Breakfast.”
Her eyes widened. “For optics?”
His mouth kicked up in a half smile. “Yeah. For optics.” He slid his arm around her and pulled her a little closer. “Come on, let’s make this official and teach Christian the secret doggie massage that will make Jag love him and only him forever.”
/>
“There is such a thing?”
He laughed as they walked toward the spot where Christian and Jag lay together, spent. “Guess you’ll have to wait for our wedding night to find out.”
Chapter Eighteen
When the double engagement party at Waterford Farm was in full swing, Andi’s entourage of Kilcannon women—including Kilcannon women-to-be Chloe and Jessie—whisked her upstairs. Pru had worked her magic and managed to transform Gramma Finnie’s private third-floor suite into a bride’s dressing room.
She’d made a special chair for Andi to sit in so Darcy could touch up her makeup and do her hair. She’d spread the newly tailored wedding dress on the four-poster bed and even situated an old cheval-style mirror so Andi could get a good look at herself.
There, with the champagne flowing and the music and laughter from downstairs floating up, Andi gave in to the festivities, making the event somehow feel much more real than it had a week ago when Daniel Kilcannon dreamed up the idea.
Pru stood to the side with a clipboard and checklist, taking her wedding-planning role as seriously as she took everything in her young life.
Molly laughed and gave her daughter an eye roll as she and Andi stepped into the bedroom. “My perfect daughter,” she mused. “Her motto is ‘do it right, or don’t do it at all.’ I don’t know where she came from.”
But she did know, Andi thought. She’d asked Liam once about Pru’s father, and all he said was that it was Molly’s secret that she refused to share. No one knew, not even Dad, and Molly and Daniel Kilcannon were extremely close.
“She’s an amazing kid,” Andi said. “As one single mom to another, I applaud your great work.”
Molly laughed. “Single can be a benefit. No pesky husband around to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
Andi slipped off the sandals she’d worn with the short black cocktail dress for the “engagement party” portion of her evening, giving Molly a teasing elbow jab. “Maybe not the thing to say to a single mom about to say her wedding vows.”