Every Little Kiss (Sequoia Lake Book 2) Read online

  Yellow and red. Superdog’s colors. Liv smiled back. “Why not? Life’s too short for casserole.”

  Paxton didn’t comment on the Life is too short part, but the promise of no casserole had him crawling out from his hideout and wrapping his arms around Liv’s waist. The dog shot across the room and raced at Liv, sheets trailing behind him.

  He was like a potato with toothpicks for legs, but he moved with the speed of a cheetah. And right when she thought he’d jump on her, Paxton said, “Sit.”

  And bless his little wagging tail, the dog sat.

  So when Paxton looked up at her with his big baby blues, so similar to Sam’s, she felt her chest catch, and he asked, “Can we keep him?”

  Liv made a big deal of looking at the dog’s collar. It was bright orange with, thankfully, a golden name tag dangling from it. “Looks like he already has a family, and they’re probably worried about him.”

  Paxton thought about this for a moment and then bounced on his toes. “What if we can’t find his family? Can we keep him then?”

  Liv knelt and got eye level with her little guy. “His tag has his owner’s name and number on it.” Scrawled right under the name, BULLSEYE. “So I don’t think he will be hard to get ahold of.” In fact, one glance at the owner’s name, and Liv knew exactly which house Bullseye was calling home for the summer. Just like she knew why the thought of dropping him off had her heart racing. “Plus, we talked about this.”

  “You said when I got bigger. Look.” Paxton pointed to the new pencil mark on the door frame. Since this used to be Sam’s room, it was right next to his father’s growth marks. “Dad was only here when he got Stanly Dog.” Stanly Dog was Sam’s childhood pet, more of his best pal, really. And Paxton’s stuffed toy’s namesake. He had been a giant white shepherd with big black eyes who could do a zillion tricks and looked a lot like Paxton’s favorite superhero. “And I’m all the way up here.”

  All the way up here constituted a quarter of an inch, but to a kid who ranked in the tenth percentile in height and weight, that quarter inch was a big deal.

  “Pets are a lot of responsibility, sweetie. Between you starting big-kid school in August and my work schedule, it wouldn’t be fair to the dog. Maybe when things settle down. Okay?”

  Paxton nodded and let out a sigh twice his size. All of the excitement he’d had a moment ago vanished, and in its place was a quiet resignation that had Liv’s soft underbelly rolling over.

  Liv couldn’t give him a dog of his very own right then, but she could give him a fun night—something comforting to hang on to while they talked about going back to camp. “Although, I don’t see why he can’t stay for dinner.”

  Paxton’s face lit up. “Really?”

  “Yes, but after dinner he goes home.”

  “Did you hear that? You get to stay for pizza!”

  Bullseye barked his thanks, and Paxton jumped up and down, but all Liv heard was her son communicating with someone other than his mother.

  Two hours and a glass and a half of wine later, the sun touched down behind the Sierra Nevada, painting the sky a bright orange. From her back patio, Liv could see clear across the lake to the gas lamp–lined main strip of town.

  The water was still tonight, barely lapping at the dock a few yards away. A warm summer breeze whispered past, rustling the nearby ponderosas and scenting the air with pine and easier times.

  She’d made it through another day. The pizza box was empty, Paxton was in his room getting ready for bed, and all that was left to do was take their dinner guest home. But as Liv walked down the shoreline, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand, Liv realized she had several problems all at once.

  Problem one: the dog.

  Bullseye didn’t belong to just any neighbor. Per his owner’s name on the tag, which she’d rechecked three times to be certain, it appeared her furry dinner guest was staying at the old Keller cabin, meaning he belonged to her newest neighbor. Mr. Jamison, the tall, dark, and too-dangerous-for-her-good-sense neighbor. A fact that had driven her to distraction all through dinner. What were the chances that his dog would end up at her house on the same day they met?

  Which led her to problem two: the chances were slim to unbelievable.

  She was just supposed to walk up his steps, knock on his door, and give him one of those You’re never going to believe this stories? Because he was never going to believe her. Sure, he could think the situation was nothing more than a crazy coincidence. Or he could think of her as plain old crazy.

  After blurting out that she was his neighbor and knew exactly where he lived—not to mention the not-so-subtle groping—she wouldn’t be surprised if he thought the lonely widow had seduced his dog into her house with the promise of bacon and belly rubs to stage another run-in with the town’s newest bachelor.

  Finally, there was problem number three: no one appeared to be home.

  She walked up the back steps and peered through the window into the house. It was completely dark.

  With a sigh, Liv thunked her forehead against the glass. She had a dog that didn’t belong to her, a son who needed a pep talk about the joys of summer camp, and there was no sign of life inside the house.

  After knocking three times, Liv admitted defeat and looked down at the runaway at her feet, whose tail wagged happily. “On the bright side, problem three eliminates problems one and two.”

  Bullseye looked up at her as if to determine what they were going to do next.

  “Mr. Keller used to leave a spare key on the porch,” she said, searching the top ledge of the door for the spare key. Nothing.

  “If we find it, I can let you inside, go home, and nobody will ever know the difference.”

  “Woof!” Bullseye said, objecting to being left alone. The dog had a point. For all she knew, Ford worked the night shift.

  “Fine, but sitting on his porch until he comes home isn’t an option.”

  In complete agreement, Bullseye tugged on the makeshift leash—a scarf from Liv’s knitting period—and headed toward her house.

  “Oh no.” She tugged on the scarf, but he kept walking, his big furry butt waddling with purpose. “Dinner with you was bad enough. You ate all the pepperoni and didn’t even clear your plate.”

  He whimpered and dropped to his belly, resting his head on his paws, his eyes looking up at her through long lashes.

  “You can drop the cute act,” she said, leading him back to the porch to check under the flowerpot. “It isn’t working.” It was totally working. “Paxton needs a good night’s sleep, which he won’t get with you sharing his bunk. And there is no way you’re sharing my bed with all that dirt on your paws. You need a bath, and I’ve been dreaming about my own tubful of bubbles all day, so you’re out of luck, pal.”

  She pulled out her phone and pressed the button. “Siri, how do you pick a lock?”

  “Let me check my sources,” 007 said—and she pictured the latest Bond with the buzzed hair and big biceps. Not as big as Ford’s, she thought. “Okay, here is what I found on the web. A video of ‘Nine Easy Steps to Pick a Lock.’”

  She looked at Bullseye. “I’m more of a nuts-and-bolts kind of girl.” She pushed the button. “Let’s go with the nine steps to pick a lock.”

  “All right, here is the article.”

  Liv heard footsteps behind her, followed by a husky, “Being more of a visual guy myself, I have to say I’m a little disappointed, Nurse Cupcake.”

  Liv swallowed, while Bullseye started barking and yanking on the leash like he was at Disneyland and the gates had just opened.

  Eyes glued to her phone, she stopped Siri’s little B&E lecture and slowly craned her head up as a pair of bare feet came into view, followed by a wetsuit that did little to hide the hard, coiled muscles beneath. Her gaze and heartbeat rose in unison as she straightened, because the wetsuit was unzipped, dripping wet, and hanging from his lean hips—leaving nothing but tanned skin, a set of abs that were drool worthy, and a chest that begged to
be petted.

  Her finger tips tingled.

  So did her thighs, because one well-orchestrated tug and she’d know what Man Candy wore beneath his suit—if anything at all. It hugged his body so tight she couldn’t imagine room for much else.

  He cleared his throat, and Liv tore her gaze away. Big problem there, because their eyes met and held, hers like a deer in headlights, his twinkling with humor. And then he let loose that smile, the one he’d flashed her earlier that morning, and Liv’s body crackled with excitement.

  “And while my bath is on the smaller side, I wasn’t joking about my sponge-bath skills,” he said, the summer night taking on more heat. “In case you were interested.”

  CHAPTER 5

  After a decade of dealing with panic-driven subjects, Ford had more than earned a PhD in nonverbal cues and body language. And Liv Preston was most definitely interested.

  A nice thought, and had she been any other woman, he might have considered it. But she was a single mom, Paxton’s mom, and they both had a heartbreaking past. A past he’d played a role in—and that made it impossible.

  So this attraction between them would never go beyond flirting. “I wasn’t going to steal anything, just returning your dog,” she said. “He seems to have befriended my son.”

  With a grin, he pointed to the big pot on her right. “The key’s under the fern. But next time you can just try the door. It’s unlocked.”

  “Oh, I promise there won’t be a next time,” she said, shoving some kind of braided leash made from yarn at him.

  “Too bad.” Ford stuck his board in the sand, resting one arm at its peak. “Because I can’t promise you the same. Once Bullseye here finds a friend, he has a hard time letting go.” Not wanting to get into where his dog had learned that, he squatted down to give the mutt a Good job pet. After all, by tracking the scent from the stuffed dog earlier that morning, he’d found his missing subject.

  Just like he had two years ago when Bullseye had found Paxton and his dad in that cave.

  “I’m sorry if he’s a little sticky. He may have had some peanut butter cookies. And maybe a cupcake, but I made sure that dessert was served after dinner.” She said it as though she’d hosted his dog for a playdate.

  “Dinner being?”

  “Pizza. But I don’t think the cheese settled so well.” She waved a hand in front of her face and grimaced.

  Ford laughed, then leveled the dog with a look. “One funny sound and it’s the garage for the night.”

  Bullseye averted his gaze to study an ant crawling across the wood deck.

  “Don’t do that—I’m the one who offered it to him,” she said, her heart in her eyes but some steel to her tone. “Just light a few candles and it’s not so bad.”

  Ford smiled. He liked this compassionate-crusader side of hers. He also liked the sundress she’d put on. Light and flowy, flirting around her legs with every shift in the breeze.

  If not for the lingering sadness in her eyes, she’d look like a sexy coed instead of a widowed single mother.

  “Is your bed back on the bargaining table?” he asked, loving how her cheeks went pink. “Because I should warn you, he might look all sweet and cuddly, but he’s a sixty-pound bed hog.”

  Bullseye jumped onto his hind legs and barked in offense, then placed his big paws on Ford’s thighs. “What?” he said, turning his attention to Bullseye, ruffling his head when he barked again. “You didn’t even bring any pizza home to share?”

  “I brought this,” she said, holding up a little Ziploc containing a half-eaten cupcake.

  “There’s a bite taken out of it.”

  She handed it over. “And all of the frosting is missing.”

  “So much for having my back,” he said to Bullseye, who was too busy cleaning his paws to care.

  “I have some leftover casserole in the oven if you want it,” she offered, all neighborly like. “But before you say yes, it’s only fair to warn you that by some casserole, I really mean the whole casserole. Because it was so bad not even the dog would touch it.”

  Ford picked up a piece of driftwood and tossed it. Bullseye took off, barking as if it were aliens coming to invade the planet. “Do you always warn someone before inviting them over to dinner?”

  “I wasn’t inviting you over. I came here to bring you a cupcake to say thanks for helping me out today.”

  He grinned. “Without frosting. Talk about neighborly.”

  “There’s also the leftover casserole.”

  “The casserole that’s so bad my dog wouldn’t touch it?”

  “I usually don’t offer to poison my neighbors,” she said through her fingers. “I’m just a little distracted by . . .” She flapped her hands at his chest, and there went her cheeks, flushing the most adorable shade of pink.

  He lifted a brow. “My paddleboard?”

  “No.” This time the blushing was accompanied by a smile. “By all of the flirting and laughing. I’m not sure how to read you.”

  Join the club.

  “Well, isn’t that a damn shame,” he said. “Because you have one hell of a laugh, and flirting is good for the soul.”

  It was good for the body too, almost too good. And if he didn’t change the topic, Ford’s bodysuit wasn’t going to have enough room for his paddleboard. Because her eyes were locked on his mouth, and the way they dilated told him that she was drawn to him. The worst of it was, he was feeling pretty damn drawn to her.

  And it had nothing to do with the promise he’d made to Sam.

  Had she been any other woman, he’d see where that attraction led—which was usually a bed or the nearest flat surface. But this wasn’t any woman, and he couldn’t go there.

  Ever.

  “See, that,” she said. “The whole one hell of a laugh thing—I’m not sure how to read that.”

  That she was hung up on it was interesting. Almost as interesting as the way she was looking at him. Not like he was some rookie, but as if she saw something in him that was somehow impressive. It was a look he could get used to.

  He leaned against his paddleboard. “It’s as straightforward as you bringing me a cupcake.”

  “Then let me clarify,” she said seriously. “The cupcake was to thank you for helping me out with Superdog Stan and saving my son’s first day at superhero camp. Even though I know it made you late for your briefing.”

  “Well, with superhero camp on the line, it was a no-brainer. First days are a big deal. How did it go?”

  He asked it casually, as if they were two neighbors simply shooting the breeze on a nice summer’s eve. When in fact, Ford had been looking forward to this day for months. Ever since he read about the program online.

  The camp encouraged kids to find their inner superhero, while giving them a costume to role-play. Fake it till you make it, Ford liked to say. It was skill that had pulled him through some of his hardest times. And he’d hoped Paxton would find the same benefit. It was why Ford had enrolled him in the first place. His birthday present to Paxton. Not that Liv would know, because Ford hadn’t signed the card. He never signed the cards. Just like he never stayed longer than it took to make good on his promise.

  A promise that, up until today, had been nothing more than checking in on Sam’s family from a distance. Making sure they were healing and thriving. And okay, whenever a holiday came around, and Ford found a trinket or comic book, something a father would gift to his son, Ford picked it up for Paxton—delivered from an anonymous sender.

  What had started out as a onetime trip to Sequoia Lake to give Liv Sam’s final Christmas present had turned into a two-year mission to find closure. But this was to be his last trip, so he needed to make sure that when he left, there would be no need to come back.

  Well played, Ford told himself, because once he got past the reason he’d been sent to Sequoia Lake and became recertified, there wouldn’t need to be another visit. Something that brought up a dump truck full of mixed feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge
right then.

  It was clear that Liv was going to be just fine. She’d come a long way in the past year, and Sam would be proud. Oh, there were still a few hurdles she’d have to navigate, but Ford wasn’t worried. Liv Preston was as tough as they came. She’d picked up the pieces and was moving forward. Which meant that Ford was free from his promise.

  And at the perfect time.

  He hated secrets—and this one was getting out of hand. Had witnessed firsthand just how destructive the cycle could be. Most folks were one dark secret from destroying everything that mattered. Playing the silent protector had taken its toll, and Ford was ready to relinquish the role.

  Too bad that meant owning the past.

  “I guess it went exactly how I pictured the first day going. Paxton, that’s my son, doesn’t do change well. He’s had to adapt to so much change so fast. I think he’s just rebelling,” Liv said as if she wouldn’t mind rebelling every now and again. “But tomorrow is a new day, which means a chance to make new friends, take new risks, and maybe come out of his shell a bit.”

  “He’ll get there,” Ford promised, because with a woman like Liv in his corner, there wasn’t anything Paxton couldn’t accomplish. Just like there wasn’t anything positive that could come from prolonging this conversation.

  Ford picked up his board. “Good night, Liv.”

  “Night, Ford.” But neither of them moved.

  Liv worried her lower lip while her gaze slid over his. And fair being fair, he did some gazing of his own, surprised to discover he couldn’t look away. Sure, Liv had some kind of hold on him. But up close, she made his head spin so fast common sense was obliterated. Which was why he kept flirting with this particular woman even though logic told him it was a bad idea.

  Even worse, it didn’t feel like flirting. It felt more like connecting. A connection he suddenly wanted to investigate.

  Not good, he thought. Not good at all. Because while he’d come to Sequoia Lake to find answers, when she smiled at him like that it stirred up questions that were a hell of a lot more problematic.

  Ford told himself to take a step back, even as his feet moved forward.