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  “Well, so does this man,” the woman said with the blend of gentle and stern he’d heard from many of the young mothers in his extended family.

  He looked up at her, forcing his gaze not to slide down to those cut-off shorts or smooth thighs, or even higher to the white cotton T-shirt that showed a whole different kind of curve.

  “She can play with him, though.” He stood slowly, easily eclipsing her as he rose to his full six feet.

  “Thanks.” She smiled again, her gaze shifting to the girl for a moment, then back to him. “We literally arrived in town about ten minutes ago, and she couldn’t even wait to check into the B&B. She saw dogs in the park and ran right over.”

  “If she likes dogs, she’s in the right place. Even our mayor’s a dog.” His gaze coasted over her face, taking in each fine, delicate feature. Speaking of unexpected surprises. “I’m John, by the way.” He extended his hand. “Welcome to Bitter Bark.”

  “I’m Summer, and this is my daughter, Destiny.”

  Yep, daughter. Which usually meant…husband. Shame.

  “Hi, Destiny,” he said, holding out the leash. “You mind putting this on him? If he feels the need for speed and takes off, we could be running after him for a long time.”

  “’Kay.” She took the leash. “Can I w-w-walk him?”

  He considered that, and the fact that it might give him two more minutes to talk to a woman named…Summer. A name that somehow fit her perfectly. “Not far, but sure.” He glanced at the dazzling creature next to him. “Okay with you, Mom?”

  “Right here, where I can see you. But, Des, don’t get attached, okay? Maverick belongs to this man.”

  The little girl knelt down and fumbled with the leash, her tiny fingers unable to squeeze the clip.

  “Here, I got it,” John said, bending over to help her. “Hold on tight, though. He’s a furry ball of willful determination.”

  She looked at him, frowning a little. “What’s will…that?”

  “What you are,” her mother joked. “Just don’t let him go, and don’t take more than twenty-five steps. Count them all.”

  She nodded, setting off with her little shoulders squared for the task, once again making John smile.

  “Cute kid,” he said.

  “Thanks. She’s never dull, that’s for sure.”

  “Where are you guys from?” he asked, not wanting a single second of awkward silence.

  “Florida, but we just drove over from Tennessee, where we’ve been visiting relatives. We heard this is a good place to adopt a dog, which is the only gift she wants for her upcoming sixth birthday.”

  “So you came for the Dog Days of Summer?”

  She looked up at him, a slight frown pulling. “It’s that hot here so close to the mountains?”

  “No, the Dog Days of Summer is a major Bitter Bark event. Our very own dogapalooza, if you will.”

  “A dogapalooza?” She laughed at that, a throaty, sweet sound that made him want to make her laugh a lot just so he could hear it again. “Okay, then. We did come to the right town to adopt a dog. I assume adoptions are part of the ’palooza?”

  “Every Friday, all month long, at different locations.” He glanced at the little girl, who was bent over talking to Maverick, who was…listening. “You going to be in town that long?”

  “Two more days?” She lifted one toned, tanned, silky-smooth shoulder. “Maybe. It does explain why the B&B rooms are at a premium and all the Airbnbs are booked.”

  “Oh, yeah. Bitter Bark is packed. There are contests, races, dog shows. You name it. You can—”

  “Oh, Mommy!” Destiny stood frozen, her eyes wide. “He’s…he’s…” She pointed at Mav with dismay, who had squatted and was doing exactly what John had brought him out here to do.

  Summer laughed. “Oh boy, Des. You’re in deep doo-doo now.”

  “I got this.” John pulled a plastic bag from his pocket, hustling over to scoop up the tiny mess.

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” the little girl said softly, once again putting a crack in his heart.

  “Sorry? No reason to be,” he assured her. “I couldn’t go back to my business until he did his, so thanks.”

  “Ew.” She curled her lip at the bag.

  “It’s part of owning a dog,” he told her, walking to one of the green pet-waste stations that were tucked in the bushes all over Bushrod Square. He deposited the bag, then pumped the hand sanitizer from its dispenser. “Remember, if you get a dog, there’s some responsibility. Like…” He notched his head toward the bin. “But honestly, I’ve been out here trying to get him to do that for a while. I’m sure you’ll be a great dog owner.”

  “Thanks for being so kind to her,” Summer said, taking her daughter’s hand, adding a megawatt smile that did stupid things to his stomach. “Give Mav back to this nice man, and let’s go check in.”

  “But…” Her lower lip slipped out just a bit. “I l-l-love him.”

  “Destiny, it’s time to go.”

  “Well, he loved meeting you,” John said, feeling an inexplicable need to give the little girl another minute with Mav…and get another minute with her mother. “And so did I.” He couldn’t help giving a quick look to Summer, getting one more electric second of eye contact before saying goodbye. “I hope you find the right dog, and if you ever want to walk Mav, we’re here every afternoon around this time.”

  Just in case there wasn’t a husband.

  “You really do want to lose that puppy to her, don’t you?” Summer joked, tucking both hands in the pockets of her shorts, denying him any chance to check for a ring.

  “No, but…” He really did want to see her again.

  “She gets what she wants, I’m warning you.” She gave a meaningful look to her daughter. “Give him the leash, Des.”

  Destiny’s lip inched out some more, and she all but batted her puppy-dog eyes.

  “Destiny Rose,” Summer said in a low, serious voice. “The leash.”

  She finally relinquished it and hung her head, walking away with sunken shoulders and a very dramatic sigh.

  “Good job walking him, kiddo,” he called to her. “You can be my wingman anytime.”

  Summer tipped her head with a smile. “Bullshit,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “You can be mine.”

  He stared at her, jaw open. “How did you…”

  “Maverick? Need for speed?” She gave a light laugh. “Kind of a dead giveaway.” With a quick wink and a wave, she rushed to catch up with her daughter, her long hair bouncing and those cut-off shorts hitching from side to side.

  Holy…she knew lines from Top Gun, one of his favorite movies of all time? And looked like that? And made him smile since the second they said hello?

  And was probably happily married to the man of her dreams. Lucky bastard.

  After a minute, he turned and headed the other way with Mav, but then he couldn’t help it. He had to have one more look. He glanced over his shoulder to take it, at the same instant that she did.

  They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, shooting a little unexpected fire through him, then they both turned away.

  Well. That was…nice. So maybe the day hadn’t gone completely south, after all.

  Chapter Two

  Summer and Destiny stepped out of the Bitter Bark Bed & Breakfast on their second day in town, taking a moment to get their bearings and soak up some sun before setting off for lunch. And Summer knew exactly where they were going to have that meal.

  She’d been in Bitter Bark for twenty-four hours now. After having spent one entire day devoted to whatever Destiny wanted—which had included a lot of time at a playground and long walks in the square to search for a certain dog—it was now time to focus on the other reason she’d picked this quaint little town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains for their annual vacation.

  Summer had come to find a man, and she wasn’t going to leave without at least trying.

  Yes, she’d been disappointed wh
en the receptionist at the B&B told her that Hoagies & Heroes was no longer in business and that a Greek deli had replaced the local sandwich shop more than a year ago. But surely someone would know how she could find the owners of Hoagies & Heroes…and their son. The woman at the B&B had no idea where the Shipleys had gone, but suggested she talk to the guy who’d taken over the property, and then she’d raved about the deli’s food.

  Well, it was a start.

  As Summer stood across the street from the restaurant with crisp blue-and-white striped awnings, her gaze scanning a large patio with tables covered by bright blue umbrellas, that disappointment rose again.

  No, this was definitely not Hoagies & Heroes. This place was called Santorini’s, like the famous city in Greece, and supposedly it was where she’d find the best spanakopita in North Carolina.

  But Summer didn’t want…whatever that was. She wanted a man who should be here, working with his parents, as Travis Shipley once told her he would be.

  “Well, that kind of throws the granddaddy of all monkey wrenches into things, doesn’t it?” Summer squeezed the tiny hand in hers a little tighter than necessary, swallowing that all-too-familiar, unwelcome, and sour taste of guilt.

  Because it was one thing to go traipsing after a man she’d met only on a computer screen and hadn’t spoken to in two years, but it was quite another to drag her little girl on the mission.

  “Do mo-mo-monkeys have granddaddies, Mommy?”

  Destiny’s sweet voice floated up, making Summer look down and smile into her haunting hazel eyes. “Of course they do,” she said. “And how would you like to taste something called a…” She tried to think of another Greek food that would sound more appetizing to a picky soon-to-be six-year-old. “A falafel?”

  Instantly, Summer knew that choice was a mistake. Destiny’s lips curled, and her eyes registered mild horror. “Sou-sou-sounds kinda aw-aw-awful.”

  Summer laughed at the child’s natural wit, buried in the stutter Summer frequently didn’t notice, especially when they were alone. “They’ll have other things on the menu. Come on, let’s eat.” And poke around for information.

  But Destiny didn’t budge, looking around, her brows drawn, the fresh mountain breeze fluttering some of her waist-length corkscrew curls. “Where is he?”

  Summer knew exactly who he was. The adorable puppy named after a Tom Cruise character. And his equally adorable owner, she mused, remembering the man’s soft brown eyes, easy smile, and that short-cropped beard and glasses that made him look a little like a professor. A tall, hot, well-built, great-with-kids professor.

  “Give it up, buttercup,” Summer warned. “Not your dog.” And not the man Summer had come to Bitter Bark to find.

  “B-b-but he said he’d be…” She lifted their joined hands and pointed to the green grass, walking paths, and massive bronze statue of the town’s founder at the center of Bitter Bark. “There.”

  Yes, the man named John had said that. And in another life, with a different purpose for her visit, Summer might be tempted to show up for a rendezvous with Hot Beard Guy because she was certain that was what he’d been hinting at when he told her he’d be there today.

  “B-b-b-but…” Destiny huffed with frustration when she couldn’t get the simple word out. “You said there are ad-ad-adoption places.”

  “Not on every corner, Des. But do you see that sign in front of the bookstore, just like the one we saw when we checked into our room? Can you read it?”

  She shot her mother a get real look mastered far too early in one so young. “I can read. I can’t ta-ta-ta-talk. But I can read. It says…Dog Day-Day-Days of Su-su-summer.” She smiled. “That’s your name, Mommy,” she whispered, as she often did from the exhaustion of the speech impediment, because, like singing, lowering her voice to a mere breath helped her communicate without frustration.

  “It is my name,” she agreed. “So I think these Dog Days of Summer are destiny, like your name. I’m sure that a town that celebrates all month long with”—they walked a little closer to the sandwich sign to read the list of events that seemed to be scheduled daily—“something called the Doggie Olympics and the Lost and Hound Scavenger Hunt will have a few adoption opportunities.” Hadn’t that handsome dog owner mentioned that they had them on Fridays?

  “What is B-B-Bark-koke?” Destiny pointed at the last word. “You drink Cokes wi-wi-with a dog?”

  Summer laughed. “Oh, my guess is that contest is a play on karaoke, but with a dog involved in some way, so pronounce it Bark-e-okie. Can you guess what that is?” She heard the teacher in her voice, but didn’t bother to hide it. Teaching came so naturally to her, with her child and others.

  “It’s singing,” Destiny replied, getting up on her tiptoes. “And I can dooooooo that!” She belted out the words to an imaginary melody that seemed to always play in her head, loud enough to make a woman passing by do a double take. Summer was used to those kinds of looks when people saw, and then heard, her preternaturally beautiful daughter. Destiny might not be able to get a sentence out easily, but she could sing like an angel, and looked like one, too.

  “You certainly can sing.” Summer tugged her toward the restaurant. “So maybe, if we get you a dog, you can enter the Barkaoke contest.”

  Destiny chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head, silent. Not matter how glorious her voice was, and how much singing helped her overcome her stutter, she hated to perform in front of other people. A crowd meant she might have to do the one thing she hadn’t been able to since she was a little over three years old—talk without a stammer.

  “Come on,” Summer said, easily switching the conversation to something else. “Let’s get an awful falafel.”

  Summer passed the patio, reaching for the door, but Destiny pulled hard on her hand.

  “Look, Mommy,” she whispered. “There are dogs!”

  There were, indeed, several pooches of various sizes and breeds, most resting in the shade of the tables or slurping water from blue and white bowls while their owners ate.

  “Let’s go inside and get a table,” she said, tugging a reluctant Destiny into the restaurant.

  “Can we sit outside?”

  “We’ll ask the hostess.” Inside, they paused at the stand in the middle of a sizable entryway, waiting for a hostess. Summer peeked inside at the cheery deli, taking in rows of tables and booths, many of which were full even though it was past the lunch rush.

  The dining area was bigger than she’d expected, and so different from the walk-up-and-order style of Hoagies & Heroes, at least as it had been described to her. Patrons were eating at a counter, but this was no sandwich shop. The vibe was a festive Greek refuge, warm and inviting, with oversized prints featuring the Mediterranean Sea and the iconic blue domes of Santorini, Greece.

  She spotted a server in the middle of the restaurant, but the woman seemed swamped.

  “Okay, maybe we missed someone outside.” She turned and went back to the patio, looking around.

  A white-haired woman at a nearby table waved at her. “You can sit anywhere, lass.”

  She frowned, surprised at the instruction delivered with a brogue, but before she could respond, Destiny let out a little squeal.

  “Look!” Destiny pointed under the table where the woman sat, zeroing in on two dachshunds snoozing contentedly. “Weiner dogs!”

  “You can come and say hello.” The other woman at the table beckoned to them. “Come over, dear.”

  “Can I talk to those doggies?” Destiny asked Summer.

  Since they were the first dogs she’d shown any interest in since she’d met Maverick, Summer nodded, guiding her to the table. There, Destiny looked from one lady to the other, no doubt not trusting her brain and mouth to work together, since they so often let her down.

  As the speech therapist had taught her, Summer restrained from jumping in to help when the silence lasted a beat longer than was comfortable. But it still broke her heart every time Destiny found herself in this
situation.

  The two women looked on, wonderfully patient, one with a puff of snowy hair, the other with dyed, dark hair and much more makeup. Summer guessed them to both be octogenarians, though one was trying harder than the other to hide that.

  “What are their names?” Destiny finally sang the question, knowing that was the only way for her to get out a whole sentence without a single stutter.

  “Oh, sweet Saint Patrick, that was lovely,” the older-looking woman said, adjusting her bifocals as if she needed to get a better look. “Aren’t you the most delightful little lass I’ve ever met?”

  “Pyggie and Gala,” the other one said. “Not piggy, like oink-oink.” She pointed at a stout brown dog who clearly owned the name. “But short for Pygmalion, like the character. And that’s Galatea, but we call her Gala.”

  “Pyggie…” Bending over, Destiny stroked the chubby dog’s head lovingly. “And Ga-ga-gala.”

  “She’s a dog lover,” Summer said, putting a hand on Destiny’s head.

  “Then she has a good heart,” the dark-haired woman said, reaching out her hand to Summer. “I’m Agnes Santorini.”

  “Oh.” She drew back a little as she returned the handshake. Santorini would explain why her companion had acted as the ad hoc hostess at a restaurant of the same name. And it might mean she’d know where the previous owners were. “This is your restaurant?”

  “My grandson’s, actually, but my husband and I opened and ran the first Santorini’s in Chestnut Creek, and then my son ran it, and now my grandson.” She beamed with family pride, and suddenly Summer could see her Greek heritage in eyes the color of black olives, her whole being exuding strength and confidence.

  “I assumed the restaurant was named after the town,” Summer said.

  “It is, in a way. My husband’s grandfather was from Santorini, but when he came to America, he couldn’t spell the last name without using the Greek alphabet, so the idiot who registered them used the name of the city where they were from. From that moment on, the Iordanoupoulus family became the Santorinis.” She patted the empty chair next to her. “Would you like to join us?”

 

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