The Puppy Proposal

He knew what he wanted.

And it definitely wasn’t on the menu.

* * *

Jillian felt her cheeks become flushed from the heat in Nic’s eyes. Somehow, her innocent comment didn’t feel so innocent anymore. Embarrassed, flattered and more than a little confused, she bit her lip and tried to think of something to say. His eyes caught the movement, narrowing on her lips. Oh, boy. Her previous casual dates had not prepared for her this level of...intensity.

Desperate to ease the tension she turned away, hoping to signal the waiter. Instead, she saw Mollie, weighed down by a giant paper sack, cutting across the deck to their table. Knowing there was no way to stop her, Jillian waved her over.

“Hey, Jillian, who’s the handsome stranger?” Mollie batted her eyelashes theatrically at Nic.

“Mollie, this is Nic. He’s Murphy’s most recent savior. Nic, this is Mollie. She’s the receptionist at the clinic, and a good friend.” She gestured to the overflowing bag. “Stocking up for a hurricane?”

“Picking up dinner for Emma and me. Cassie got an emergency call, and her parents couldn’t babysit, some concert or something. I said I’d swing by and pick the munchkin up, take her home and feed her. I wasn’t sure what she likes, so I had Pete throw in a bit of everything.” She shrugged. “I figure Cassie can eat whatever is left over when she gets home.”

“An emergency? That’s odd—I didn’t get a call from her.” Jillian dug in her purse for her phone. Cassie usually called her for assistance in emergencies.

Mollie grabbed her hand. “Chill out. She didn’t call because she said you were, and I quote, ‘on a hot date.’” She scanned Nic from head to toe, slowly. “I guess he qualifies.” Jillian kicked her under the table. “Seriously, no worries. She said she had it handled, something about a pug having an allergic reaction. She just wants to observe it for a while at this point, make sure the medication is working.”

“Oh.” Somewhat appeased, she put the phone down. “Well, I’m available if she needs me.”

“No, you aren’t,” Mollie said, winking at Nic. “Hot date, remember?” Avoiding another kick from Jillian, she took her paper bag and strolled out, obviously pleased with herself. Nic, for his part, looked incredibly amused by the entire situation.

“Something funny?”

“Nope, just enjoying myself. And the view,” he added, looking pointedly at her.

Those butterflies were rapidly morphing into pterodactyls. Thankfully, Nic’s flirting was curtailed by the arrival of the waitress. Jillian ordered the crab cakes, and Nic his sandwich.

The perky waitress, in shorts that covered less than most bikini bottoms, couldn’t take her eyes off him, and really, who could blame her? He looked every bit as masculine and commanding in jeans and a casual button-down shirt as he had in his professional clothing the night before. If anything, the more relaxed attire highlighted his chiseled features and hard body.

Annoyed with Ms. Skimpy Pants and irritated with herself for caring, Jillian drummed her fingers on the paper placemat. Nic smiled at her frustration, but to his credit kept his eyes on her, not the scantily clad waitress, who thankfully was called away to another table.

By the time the red plastic baskets of food arrived, Jillian felt a bit more relaxed. Nic, despite his tendency to make her breath catch and pulse race, was a pleasant dining companion. They chitchatted about the weather, which was still warm, even in October, then he relayed the story of his rendezvous with the eccentric Mrs. Rosenberg. His description of her enthusiastic greeting and the way she had bamboozled him into changing her doorknob had her breathless with laughter. “I’m sorry. I should be thanking you instead of laughing at you.” She shook her head. “Seriously, thanks for helping her. I’m sure she didn’t give you much choice, but thanks, anyway.”

“She was definitely persuasive.” He sipped his tea, then continued, “But I would have done it, anyway. I’m sure she’s very capable for her age, but she’s not up to replacing doorknobs. And it needed to be done.”

His simple answer spoke volumes about him. Most single guys didn’t go around acting as handymen for little old ladies. That Nic didn’t realize how uncommon his charitable streak was made it even more appealing. She found herself wanting to know more about this mystery man, and how he’d come to be so chivalrous. “Where did you learn how to change a doorknob, anyway?”

“My dad taught me. That, and a lot of other things. He didn’t believe in paying someone else to do what you could do yourself. So he taught us about household repairs, car maintenance, that kind of thing.”

“Us?”

“I have a brother and two sisters. I’m the oldest.”

“He taught the girls to do that stuff, too?”

“Definitely. No gender discrimination there. And we all learned to cook, too, no exceptions.”

“Your dad cooked?” Jillian was flabbergasted. None of her foster fathers had, of course, but most of their wives hadn’t, either. She’d grown up on frozen dinners and boxed mac and cheese.

“Of course he cooked, he’s Italian. But my nana is the one that taught us kids. When Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, they were busy, you know, trying to get food on the table in a hurry. Nana had more time and patience, so she taught us all. We would start with tossing salads, easy stuff, and then move up to more complicated things when we were ready. By the time we were in high school, we could all cook reasonably well.” He popped a fry in his mouth. “Except for my brother, Damian. He does more than reasonably well. He just finished culinary school, and now he’s in Italy getting advanced training. He’s a magician with food.”

“What about your sisters...what are they like?”

“Smart,” he answered without hesitation. “Both are really smart, but complete opposites. Claire is a total bookworm. She’s studying for a masters in English at NYU. Isabella is more practical. She has an MBA and works for a big investment firm.”

His pride in them was obvious; she could tell just from his tone how much he cared for his family. A small stirring of envy clawed at her, but she pushed it away. She’d spent much of her childhood wishing for a family like his, with siblings and parents and grandparents. But she was an adult now; she’d had plenty of time to learn that wishes didn’t always come true.

* * *

Nic enjoyed talking about his family, but the questions about their careers made him nervous. He knew it was dishonest, but he didn’t want her to ask what his father did or what he did. He’d had too many women want him just because of his family, or rather the family fortune. Of course, in this case, his family being the driving force behind Caruso Hotels didn’t seem like news she’d be happy to hear, with the Sandpiper being up for sale. If she knew he was here to look into buying it, well, that would definitely wipe the smile off her face.

And it was a knockout of a smile. Her whole face glowed, and her nose scrunched up, just a little, in the most adorable way. In the end, business would have to stay business. His father and the whole company were counting on him to make this deal. If he was going to take over from his dad one day, he needed to prove he could handle the job. But in the meantime, he couldn’t help but want to spend some time with a woman who seemed to like him, not his money or his glamorous lifestyle.

Hoping to change the subject, he asked casually, “So what about your family? Do they live around here?” Her face blanched, just briefly, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes that had him reaching for her hand as she caught her breath. Caught off guard by her reaction, he kept silent as he waited.

She looked down at their joined hands, then into his eyes.

“I don’t have any family.”

When he didn’t react, other than to squeeze her hand reassuringly, she continued. “My parents died in a car accident when I was two years old. They were caught in a bad storm and lost control of the car. I’m told they died on impact, but paramedics found me buckled in my car seat, not a scratch on me.”

He didn’t know what to say, had nothing to offer, other than “I’m sorry.”

Smiling at that, she said, “Yeah, so am I. They—I—didn’t have any family, at least that anyone knew of. I ended up in foster care, moving every year or so. Eventually I ended up here, on Paradise Isle. When I was in high school, I got an after-school job at the clinic, back when Cassie’s dad was still running things. Later, when my foster parents moved to Jacksonville, I convinced the social worker to let me stay here. I had some money saved up, and I got some financial assistance from the state. I finished out my senior year living in a motel room. After I graduated and could work full-time, I found an apartment and started classes at the community college. A few years ago, I passed my State Board exams, and got certified as a veterinary technician.”

“You’ve been on your own since high school? With no help?”

“I had my friends, and Doc Marshall, Cassie’s father, helped by convincing the case worker not to put me back in foster care. I was almost eighteen and with foster homes so scarce, it wasn’t a hard sell. But without him backing me, and giving me a job, it never would have worked.”

Nic couldn’t even imagine that kind of self-reliance. His family had always been involved in his life—sometimes too involved. But as much as their expectations and demands could feel like an albatross around his neck, they had always been there for him when he needed them. They were the only people he could truly count on.

No wonder Jillian was so attached to the community—it was all she had. The guilt he had pushed aside began chewing a fresh hole in his gut. If he green-lighted the Caruso Hotel project, it would completely change the island, and although he’d assumed that change would be for the better, he had a feeling she wouldn’t agree.

Carefully, he tried to feel her out on the subject. “So why Paradise? Of everywhere you lived, what made you stay here?”

Jillian smiled. “Because it felt like home. Nowhere else ever did. Here, the people I met really seemed to care, to want to know me. No one brushed me off as just a foster kid, or acted like I was a lost cause. The town is small enough that people really get to know each other—there are no strangers. And everyone looks out for each other. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to having family.” Her voice quavered at her last few words, leaving no doubt as to the extent of her loyalty.

Nic wanted to argue, to offer some counterpoint, but he couldn’t. Even in his short time on the island, he’d seen the camaraderie she was describing. Her friend Mollie’s willingness to give up her Saturday night to help a friend was just one more example. He wished he could say there were plenty of places like Paradise, but if there were, he’d never seen them.

Of course, small towns, isolated from the fast pace of modern life, weren’t his usual haunts. Caruso Hotels were found in the busier tourist destinations; some of their larger resorts became cities unto themselves. On paper, Paradise Isle had seemed like a blank canvas, waiting for development. Choosing an unknown place wasn’t their usual mode of operation, but he’d thought it a brilliant and cost-saving strategy, one that would pay handsomely when they transformed Paradise Isle into a tourist hot spot.

Now, seeing the town for himself, he realized how arrogant he’d been. Paradise might be small, but that didn’t mean it was insignificant. A revelation that was a bit too late in coming. How could he tell his father, the CEO of a world-renowned business, not to purchase a prime piece of property because “the people are really nice”? It was absurd. He’d just have to figure something out.

And find a way to live with himself afterward.

* * *