Chapter Twelve

Devon finished arranging a dozen centerpieces for an upcoming bridal shower at Peter Shields Inn, hoping the bright florals cut through the dismal day. The snow had come and gone, leaving cold, wet slush behind. Everyone was still recovering from the holidays and wanted to hibernate, which suited her perfectly fine.

All she wanted was to spend time with Jameson. For the first time, she wished her calendar this week was empty so she could sit in Vintage and just be with him until he had to leave.

And he would leave.

The jarring thought took hold and settled in, like a nagging wound. They weren’t in a position to declare their love and decide to be together. She wanted to tell him her feelings, but it wasn’t fair. He’d only feel pressure, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She kept thinking about the tattoo. Carved into his wrist as a reminder for him not to try again. What was her name? What was their story? She refused to ask, sensing there were still walls built around his heart that needed a gentle, patient touch. The first time she’d realized it was a rose, the pain had hit hard, but she knew his past had nothing to do with her. Devon had to be brave and allow him his own choices. He’d either take another chance with her.

Or not.

But she also refused to deny the reality. She loved him and yes, it had happened fast, but it didn’t scare her. The mechanics were the hard part, but it was also about how much he was willing to give or compromise. It seemed the woman who had broken his heart had done a real hatchet job. Simmering resentment burned inside for justice. Devon bet he was broken up with around Christmas and that’s what made him hate the holiday. It made perfect sense from his previous words hinting that something had happened he wanted to forget.

Jealousy pricked, which was ridiculous. She was his past. A nameless, faceless ghost that could only hurt her if Devon let the memory mess with her head.

She was better than that.

Bear trotted forward as the bell tinkled and alerted him to a new guest. He’d been flourishing except for his issue with other dogs. When Devon walked him and they spotted another canine, she had to cross the street while Bear whined and trembled. It only made her want to cuddle him close and protect him.

Even though he was as big as her.

She heard Judith’s greeting and made her way to the front. “Look at him, he’s massive now!” the sanctuary owner exclaimed, rubbing his head. “He looks great, Devon. How is everything going?”

“Really good. He goes back and forth with Jameson and I and seems to like it. He’s better on the leash and we’re working on the damage control.” She pointed at the chewed-up doorway to the back where Bear had happily created a new bone out of the wall. “Jameson has been working with him on the command down, so he stops jumping.”

Judith nodded, but her gaze probed, full of curiosity. “This thing with Jameson seems to be going well?”

Devon smiled. “Yes.”

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said. Rubbing Bear’s saggy, drooly jowls, the woman never flinched, obviously used to every good and bad part about having dogs. “You deserve it, Devon. A man to make you happy. I’m not sure you know how much you’re cherished in this town.”

Devon blinked, touched. “Thanks, Judith. That means a lot.”

“It’s the truth. But I’m actually here to talk about Bear and his upcoming options. I heard Mac is returning?”

Her throat tightened but she kept her tone happy. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful? He plans to come home late next week.”

“And will Jameson be going back to New York? Or sticking around in Cape May for a while?”

She shifted her feet. “Leaving. He has to go back to his job.”

“Of course. Well, I wanted to talk about Bear’s options. I know he needs some behavioral work, don’t you darling?” she said, scratching Bear behind the ears. His tail wagged and he almost knocked over one of the displays, which Devon caught right in time. “He’s a lot for a regular foster to handle and I appreciate you and Jameson stepping in. But this was a temporary arrangement, and I finally found something permanent for Bear.”

Her stomach clenched. “A family?”

“No, as I said, this breed is difficult to place. But a friend of mine runs a shelter in Rhode Island and knows this breed well. They have an excellent behaviorist and room so Bear will be transferred over.”

“What? Wait—when?”

“End of next week.” Judith’s eyes held warm sympathy. “Devon, I know you’ve gotten attached, most temporary fosters do. You were able to give Bear a home when he didn’t have one, and he will never forget you. But he needs to be in a place where he can have a permanent place, and this is the best option.”

“What if I adopt him?” she rushed out.

Her words were kind but firm. “I couldn’t approve it. Your place is too tiny. He can’t keep staying in the floral shop all day and in a small apartment. He needs more space, and he needs to be able to deal with his issues.”

“What if Mac takes him? He likes it over there and we can have the same arrangement? Mac loves dogs.”

“I already spoke with Mac,” she said. “He knows about Bear and right now, he doesn’t want to take on the responsibility of a full-time dog. He sees more traveling in his future. He’s always willing to help temporarily but Bear needs more. I’m sorry, Devon. I know how this hurts, but it’s for the best.”

She fought back ridiculous tears for a dog she’d never expected to love so much. But she knew Judith was right. This wasn’t the right place for Bear. Not now.

Devon managed to nod. “I understand.”

Judith squeezed her arm. “I know you do. I’ll leave you both. You’ll talk to Jameson?”

“Of course.”

She gave Bear one last pat and disappeared.

Devon sunk to her knees and Bear flopped to his side for belly rubs, having no idea things were about to change.

For all of them.

* * * *

Jameson waited for her.

He sat on the couch with Bear at his feet. He’d gotten done early and everything was ready and prepped for Mac. He was proud of what he’d accomplished with Vintage and knew his cousin would be thrilled. He’d be stepping into a renovated, better organized restaurant, ready to turn a larger profit.

His sock was wet from Bear’s drool. He looked around at the chewed-up furniture and endless dog hair. It should be a good thing he wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of the beast, or dealing with his ridiculous issues of dog fear. He’d have more time again. Less chaos.

Less mess.

So, why did the thought of losing Bear feel close to grief?

He’d gotten used to him over the past month. Funny, the time seemed so short until you dealt with the mystery of emotions. How can someone fall in love with a dog so quickly?

How can someone fall in love with a woman without years of dating?

Yet, it had happened. He couldn’t tell her, of course. He had to go back to New York, but he needed Devon to know this was all real. She wasn’t a fling, a transitional, or a temporary affair. She was a woman he cared deeply about, and wanted to see if it was possible to work it out long distance.

He heard the gentle knock at the door and then she let herself in. Quietly, she sat down next to him on the couch and wrapped her arms around him. They sat together for a while, comfortable in the silence, happy with Bear and the feeling of being close.

“I know it’s the right thing,” he finally said. “I just don’t want to give him up.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and stroked back her silky hair. Her legs bent at the knee and were draped over his thighs. Her breath was warm and minty, rushing over his lips. “Neither do I. I wish there was another option but I can’t think of one.”

“This got messy,” he said.

Her lips twitched in a smile. He cupped her cheek. “Do you regret it?”

“Never.”

Her body melted into his and he kissed her, slow and deep. “What do you want to do?” she asked when he pulled away.

“Keep seeing you. Figure it out. I care too much to walk away.”

“Me, too.”

He didn’t tell her he loved her. He didn’t tell her he wished he could buy a big ass house and move her and Bear in. That just wasn’t reasonable. So, he gave her something else, something he hadn’t shared with anyone.

“I haven’t let myself go this deep with a woman before. Not since…her. I’d like to explain why.”

He sensed her slight hesitation, as if she was afraid to hear what he had to say. But when she tipped her head back and met his gaze, he only saw warm empathy and an invitation to hold his secrets with care. “I’d like to hear it.”

“It was my mother.” She sucked in her breath but remained silent. “My dad was never in the picture so my mom was everything to me. And we were really close. It was funny, when all my friends used to complain about their moms all up in their business, and how frustrated they were, I never understood. It was like we just got each other, it was us against the world. I went to college for food service and management. I graduated at the top of my class and she was there every step of the way. Sure, I wished many times I had a dad in the picture, but she gave me so much, there was never any lack in my life.”

Devon took his hands and squeezed tight. The warm pressure gave him a sense of peace as he continued. “We used to go to different restaurants and created a book of our favorite meals and places to go. Never once did she question my decisions, even if I made the wrong one. She’d just be there to support me when my life blew up. And damn, it happened a lot.”

They smiled at each other, and he looked at her beloved face, realizing it had been a long time since he spoke about his mom. It felt good to share, as if breathing fresh air into a damp, musty closet.

“One day, she told me she found a lump in her breast and needed surgery. She made it sound easy, like they’d take it out and she’d be fine. But then they discovered it had spread. She went through chemo.” He clenched his jaw, fighting the awful images of his mom struggling so hard not to leave him. “It didn’t work.”

The raw empathy in her gaze steadied him. Her emotion eased some of the ache in his chest, like she was releasing something he couldn’t himself. “She died three days before Christmas. I remember looking at the lights and the decorated tree. I listened to the carolers and everyone around me with their joy and enthusiasm over a holiday, and kept thinking over and over that I’d lost my mother. How could the world be happy when my mom was gone? It seemed like a cruel joke. Took me years to even be able to stand any of the trappings. I went to a grief counselor because I was in a bad place for a very long time. Lost jobs. Drank a lot.” He dragged in a breath. “I didn’t want that. Mom would have been devastated to know I was ruining my life, so I took time and worked on myself to get better. But the sting of Christmas has always been a hurdle for me. Brings it all back.”

Slowly, she picked up his hand, turning his palm up. His skin tingled as she caressed his tattoo. “What was your mother’s name?” she asked softly.

His heart stopped, then thundered. “Rose. Her name was Rose.”

She nodded and bent her head, brushing her lips over the ink. His skin was wet when she looked at him. He brushed her tears away, touched at her naked emotion; by her being able to share his grief. “I’m sorry, Jameson. So much makes sense now.”

“Devon, this past Christmas we spent together? It was the first time I felt good again. That’s what you bring to me.” He paused and looked in her eyes. “Hope.”

She wrapped him in her arms, laid her head on his heart, and held him for a long, long time.