Chapter One

“The last thing in the world you need to be doing right now is getting a dog.”

Those words, spoken by her brother, echoed in Kit Hartman’s mind as she walked the row of cages. A few of the faces seemed to smile at her, tails wagging with eagerness and optimism. Some of the dogs barked, and her heart went out to them. She’d be on edge, too, surrounded by unfamiliar sights and smells and sounds.

She’d come to look at a golden retriever mix, fueled by childhood memories of Zoe, the family pet. Only to be told that the Zoe look-alike had been adopted that morning. The woman running the adoption center had apologized profusely that the website hadn’t been updated, and Kit, despite her disappointment, had assured her she understood.

She contemplated leaving but decided to see if anyone else caught her eye. They all deserved a home, obviously. But also because getting a dog would irritate her brother, and she refused to give up an opportunity to get under Adam’s skin. It might be petty, but since the feeling was undoubtedly mutual, she gave herself a pass.

She walked past one of the smaller enclosures, currently home to a small, scruffy thing huddled in the corner. Her throat tightened and she hurried past, knowing it was bad form to cry at the Humane Society. But she only got a couple of steps before doubling back. The dog looked her right in the eye, and Kit was a goner.

“That’s Olive,” the adoption manager said. “She came in as a stray last week. We’re guessing she’s around ten based on how bad her teeth are—but senior dogs are the best.”

Kit nodded. A small dog in her golden years would be about as easy as they came. Not that she wanted to concede anything to Adam, but she wasn’t dumb. Whatever dog she adopted would be alone for several hours most days in her parents’ cozy guest house, the place she currently called home. “Hi, Olive.”

Olive didn’t stand, but her tail started a slow swish back and forth on the floor. The deal, as they said, was sealed.

Adam’s words echoed in her mind again as Kit filled out the adoption paperwork. They weren’t the reason she’d decided to adopt a dog—she wasn’t that immature—but she took no small satisfaction in going directly against Adam’s advice. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

Her satisfaction wavered slightly when she took Olive shopping for supplies. Despite seeming old and sad at the shelter, her energy up and down the aisles of the pet store told a different story. Kit chalked it up to new surroundings and overstimulation. Those things amped her up, too.

They managed to check out and get everything into the back seat of Kit’s truck, but a battle ensued over Olive’s decision that she should get to ride on the center console. Then there was the frantic jumping and barking from one end of the back seat to the other. That resulted in a U-turn back to the pet store to get one of those doggie seat belts. Olive cried about it but didn’t fight her. Well, didn’t fight too hard.

Instead of taking Olive right home, Kit made a detour to the park. She knew better than to go into the fenced-off area where dogs could roam free, at least until she got a sense of how Olive was with other dogs. But they could walk off some extra energy on the winding paths and then hopefully have a chill first evening together.

They made it all of a hundred feet or so before a squirrel caught Olive’s eye and she bolted. And because that’s how her life worked these days, Kit, in all her naïve glory, didn’t have a firm hold on the leash. “Fuck,” she said, louder than she generally swore in public.

Fortunately, no one was close enough to hear. Unfortunately, no one was around to help. Olive tore off without a single backward glance.

“Olive. Olive!” How could a dog that small run that fast? Kit tried to catch her but was quickly and painfully reminded that her stamina wasn’t what it used to be.

When another person, walking two dogs, came into view, Kit panicked. What if Olive bit one of them? What if one of them bit her? The threat of lawsuits and massive vet bills spurred her on. “Olive!”

The person must have seen Olive, or perhaps they saw Kit running after her with arms flailing like her hair was on fire. Either way, they picked up on what was happening and stopped walking. Kit ran faster. “I don’t know if she’s friendly with other dogs,” she called.

She was close enough now to see the quizzical look on the person’s face. Not to mention close enough to recognize them as Adam’s friend Shawn. Great.

Shawn bent down, hopefully with the intent of snagging Olive’s leash. As long as Olive didn’t start a puppy brawl in the middle of the park, Kit might still manage to avert a crisis. But of course her luck never seemed to run in that direction.

Olive jumped, only landing her paws as high as Shawn’s thighs. It was enough force, however, to send Shawn’s coffee flying. It landed on the sidewalk and, even though it was a reusable mug, the lid popped off and the contents went everywhere.

Meanwhile, Olive started a dart-and-lunge dance with the other two dogs. The good news was that it looked and sounded more like play than a tussle in the making. The bad news was that between three dogs and three leashes, Shawn’s two legs didn’t stand a chance. She did some flailing of her own, then landed on her ass.

“Oh, God. Oh, no.” Kit finally got close enough to stick her hands into the fray, scooping Olive right off her feet. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Shawn looked stunned but not like she was in excruciating pain, so that counted for something. She looked around—at the two dogs with her, at their leashes still looped around her wrist, at her spilled coffee. “I’m okay.”

Kit, Olive still in her arms, hurried over to retrieve the coffee cup. “She’s new. I mean, she’s new to me. I just adopted her. She was so meek at the shelter. But she just took off. I swear I had no idea she could run that fast.”

Shawn chuckled as she got up, but then her gaze locked on Kit’s face, and her eyes narrowed. “Wait.”

She couldn’t know for sure, but she’d bet money it was a squint of recognition. She tucked Olive under one arm and lifted a hand. “Hi, Shawn.”

“Kit.” Shawn shook her head. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

She hadn’t changed all that much. Yes, she’d dyed out the expensive highlights she’d gotten for the show, and she’d gained a good twenty pounds since the final season wrapped and her uterus had decided to wage war on the rest of her body. Oh, and there was the matter of not walking around in full camera-ready makeup now that she’d come home. Since none of those were things she wanted to discuss with one of her brother’s friends, she shrugged. “It’s me.”

“You look great,” Shawn said with too much enthusiasm.

“You, too.” She would have played along either way, but she technically didn’t have to. Shawn was capital-H hot. She’d filled out since the last time Kit had seen her, in all the right ways. Nice broad shoulders, obvious even through her North Face fleece, and a sexy-ass fade that worked with rather than against her wavy brown hair. Kit cleared her throat and told herself a quick lie about not wanting to run her fingers through it. Apparently, the low-grade crush she’d nursed throughout high school was alive and well.

“I heard a rumor you were back, but I didn’t know if it was true.” Shawn sorted out the tangle of dog leashes as she spoke, making Kit wonder if she’d also heard the reasons behind it and didn’t want to make things awkward by letting on.

“I’m back. For now at least.” She fought the flush of embarrassment, but it crept up her neck and into her cheeks anyway. Partially because of her circumstances, partially because that annoying attraction to Shawn hadn’t gone away after more than a decade.

“Well, you’ll have to stop by the shop now that you’re home. Tara is back, too, and the cupcakes are officially next level. I’ll hook you up.”

Kit couldn’t help but tip her chin, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Yes, she was back home. No, she didn’t want to think about why. “You still behind the counter?”

Shawn nodded. She didn’t blush the way Kit had, but Kit would swear a shadow passed through her eyes. But then it cleared, and she flashed one of those confident smiles. “Slinging sweets with the best of them.”

Remorse kicked in. She hadn’t meant the question as a dig, but she’d experienced enough of those subtle digs in the last few years to know that’s exactly how Shawn took it. “I’m going to be working next door, so I’ll be darkening your doorstep regularly.”

“Yeah?” Shawn seemed genuinely pleased by the prospect.

“My friend is looking to do a reno on that empty storefront.” She still couldn’t believe Casey had decided to turn her weeklong escape from LA into a permanent relocation and, on top of that, open a sex shop. Assuming Casey could get the permits, of course.

“Ooh, double win. Tara’s always talking about how another cool business would bring more traffic to the block.”

The comment didn’t surprise Kit. Tara had always been the ambitious one of the McCoy siblings and had spent several years working in some fancy New York restaurant before taking over the family bakery. Kind of like her. Adam had been a golden boy from the day he was born and had no reason to stray from the little pond that adored him, while she’d been the scrappy little sister, always scrambling for bigger, better, and more. “Well, that’s the plan.”

Shawn nodded but didn’t say anything. Kit did the same, trying to think of a graceful exit. She was normally good at small talk, but the panic and chaos of the last ten minutes had thrown her. There was also the matter of being attracted to someone she’d just as soon steer clear of.

“So, you just adopted her?” Shawn pointed to Olive.

Okay, so they were going to do this. “I did. It was kind of an impulsive decision. I went to the shelter to meet this golden retriever I’d seen online. He’d already been adopted, but this girl had just been brought in as a stray. She was so sweet and sad, I couldn’t leave her.”

Shawn laughed. “She’s got some major puppy-dog eyes, that’s for sure.”

“Eyes, yes. But they had her listed as a senior. I thought I was taking home a chill old girl who deserved a big bed, a comfy blanket, and some easy strolls around the block.” As opposed to what she’d ended up with: a speed demon with Houdini tendencies.

“I’m sure she does deserve those things. But she might need some vigorous exercise, too.” Shawn canted her head. “And maybe some training.”

Kit rolled her eyes. “Where were you when I signed on the dotted line?”

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I’m pretty good with dogs. I’m happy to consult or help or whatever.” Shawn swallowed. “If I can.”

The tiny display of hesitation affected Kit more than she wanted to admit. “I might take you up on that.” She pointed at the two dogs sitting obediently at Shawn’s feet. “How long have you had yours?”

“Only Milo is mine,” Shawn said, pointing to the black lab with more gray hair than black on his muzzle. “This shepherd—Nash—belongs to my neighbor. I look after him when he travels for work. Nash is only a year old and way too much mischief to be left home alone.”

The prospect of a friend who was both good with dogs and potentially available to trade dog-sitting stints quickly outweighed the weirdness of Shawn being Adam’s friend. “That’s nice of you to take care of him.”

“It takes a village to raise a dog, right? Nash was a rescue, and you know you have to work harder sometimes with rescues.”

“Right…” Kit glanced at Olive. “How much harder, typically?”

Shawn laughed. “You’ll be fine. Little dogs are usually way less trouble.”

It was one of those nice, rational things people said to avoid saying something like, Did you really think this through? Kit sighed and kissed the top of Olive’s head. “It’s too late for second-guessing. I’m already attached. And I do think she’s perfect for me.”

Shawn smiled. “Mad-dash escape plots notwithstanding?”

“More like plowing down innocent bystanders notwithstanding.”

“Eh. She was just saying hello. I’m the one with terrible balance.”

It was a wonder that someone as funny and gracious as Shawn could be friends with her brother. Though, maybe they weren’t the closest of friends anymore. High school was a long time ago. A girl could hope. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. I’m sorry for”—she made circles with both hands—“everything.”

“It’s okay,” Shawn said with a sincerity that left Kit floundering.

“I hope you’ll let me buy you a coffee sometime to make up for it.” Though, as she made the offer, it struck her that Shawn probably had access to all the coffee she wanted. And had already offered to hook her up with cupcakes. “Or, you know, a drink or something.”

Kit didn’t need Shawn’s look of surprise to tell her that rather than easing the awkwardness, she’d inadvertently asked Shawn on a date. Shawn, to her credit, didn’t scoff. She didn’t look all that interested, either, but since Kit hadn’t meant it like that, it was probably for the best.

“Or whatever. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Shawn nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

“In the meantime, I’m going to take this girl home and try to get her settled.”

Shawn smiled, but her eyes remained incredulous. “Good luck with that.”

Kit offered a weak smile of her own. Too bad luck never seemed to take her side. “Thanks.”