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- Herausgeber: Publishdrive
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Love in Mission City: The Shorts Box Set includes one novella and four short stories
Mission City is tucked in the charming Cedar Valley in southwestern British Columbia. If you love heartwarming, contemporary small-town gay romances, then come home to Mission City and fall in love with the men who live there. Romance blossoms in the unlikeliest places. And trouble has a way of finding them...
Page Against the Machine
Dickens has run his family bookstore for years in the quiet ambiance suitable for literary endeavors. When Spike opens a motorcycle repair shop next door, tempers flare and sparks fly. Will they be able to resolve their differences or are they just too stubborn for compromise?
This is a 25k sizzling gay romance novella with a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle.
The Lightkeeper’s Love Affair
Ben’s graduation celebration is disrupted by a winter storm. He and his beagle, Buddy, have the only room left in the hotel. When lightkeeper Isaac needs a bed, though, Ben’s happy to share. Platonically, of course. Except something about Isaac makes Ben want more.
This is a 10k lighthearted gay romance with forced proximity, a loner, a future school-teacher, and Buddy, the adorable beagle.
Not in it for the Money
August’s beloved sister has passed suddenly and the man finds himself in need of comfort. Turning to his employee feels all kinds of wrong, but Julian's arms feel too damned right to resist. Come morning, though, they have to look reality in the face. Is there a chance they find a forever love out of the tragedy?
This is a 5k scorching gay romance story about a boss, his employee, and the inheritance of a lifetime.
Marcus’s Cadence
Cadence is trying to sell the home that had been his refuge during his tumultuous teen years. When his teenage crush, Marcus, shows up as a potential buyer, sparks fly. Is there just a real estate deal to be done or could his feelings be requited?
This is a 7k second-chance gay romance instalove short story with a very happy ending and a malti-poo named Kiki.
Ace’s Place
After a fall from grace, Derek has moved to a small town for a fresh start. Harold, the local golden boy made good, catches Derek’s attention. But secrets and omissions cloud what could be the beginning of something special. Can they take a chance on being vulnerable enough to fall in love?
This is a 13k steamy gay romance about second-chances, hockey, and an adorable but nosy Bouvier.
Please note - all five stories have been previously published
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Love in Mission City: The Shorts
Page Against the Machine
The Lightkeeper's Love Affair
Marcus's Cadence
Not in it for the Money
Ace's Place
Gabbi Grey
Copyright © 2021-2022 Gabbi Grey.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
References to real people, events, organizations, establishments, or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover art by Cate Ashwood Designs
Edits by ELF
Contents
Introduction
Love in Mission City: The Shorts Box Set includes one novellas and four short stories that have been previously published Mission City is tucked in the charming Cedar Valley in southwestern British Columbia. If you love heartwarming, contemporary small-town gay romances, then come home to Mission City and fall in love with the men who live there. Romance blossoms in the unlikeliest places. And trouble has a way of finding them...
Page Against the Machine
Dickens has run his family bookstore for years in the quiet ambiance suitable for literary endeavors. When Spike opens a motorcycle repair shop next door, tempers flare and sparks fly. Will they be able to resolve their differences or are they just too stubborn for compromise?
This is a 25k sizzling gay romance novella with a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle.
The Lightkeeper’s Love Affair
Ben’s graduation celebration is disrupted by a winter storm. He and his beagle, Buddy, have the only room left in the hotel. When lightkeeper Isaac needs a bed, though, Ben’s happy to share. Platonically, of course. Except something about Isaac makes Ben want more.
This is a 10k lighthearted gay romance with forced proximity, a loner, a future school-teacher, and Buddy, the adorable beagle.
Marcus’s Cadence
Cadence is trying to sell the home that had been his refuge during his tumultuous teen years. When his teenage crush, Marcus, shows up as a potential buyer, sparks fly. Is there just a real estate deal to be done or could his feelings be requited? (You don't want to imply sex/love is part of a deal)This is a 7k second-chance gay romance instalove short story with a very happy ending and a malti-poo named Kiki.
Not in it for the Money
August’s beloved sister has passed suddenly and the man finds himself in need of comfort. Turning to his employee feels all kinds of wrong, but Julian's arms feel too damned right to resist. Come morning, though, they have to look reality in the face. Is there a chance they find a forever love out of the tragedy?
This is a 5k scorching gay romance story about a boss, his employee, and the inheritance of a lifetime.
Ace’s Place
After a fall from grace, Derek has moved to a small town for a fresh start. Harold, the local golden boy made good, catches Derek’s attention. But secrets and omissions cloud what could be the beginning of something special. Can they take a chance on being vulnerable enough to fall in love?This is a 13k steamy gay romance about second-chances, hockey, and an adorable but nosy Bouvier.
Page Against the Machine
A Mission City Gay Romance Novella
Gabbi Grey
Dickens
My tranquility is shattered when a motorcycle repair shop moves in next to my bookstore. All I want is peace and quiet. What I get is gunning engines and eighties rock music. One of us has got to go, and since I was here first, it’s the hot mechanic.
Spike
I chose Mission City to set up shop because of the weekend-enthusiast riders. I’ve dreamed of owning my own shop for years, and no one is going to run me out of town. Least of all the adorable geek Bookstore Dude.
This 25k gay romance novella is a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle. The story first appeared in the anthology Love Is All Volume 5.
Dedication
Wendy, Jeanine, and Renae
Contents
Chapter One
Dickens
“One caramel macchiato extra hot.” Sunshine put the cup on the counter in front of me.
I’d been so absorbed in the ordering system, I hadn’t heard her come in. I scowled.
“The bell above the door is working fine, boss.” She tapped my forehead above my frown. “You’re too focused on placing the next order.” She glanced over at the screen. “That’s not enough.”
My scowl deepened. “I don’t want to end up with extra inventory.”
“And the last time she released a book, we sold out in two hours and had customers complaining for days while we tried to secure more copies. She’s taken off since then. Hometown girl made good.” She tucked a strand of her blue-black hair behind her ears and her pale-blue eyes shone. “You should triple that order. I’m telling you—Raven’s new book is going to be a bestseller. Plus, you can do more online orders if you’ve got extra.” She tapped her neat, polish-free finger on the counter. “But we’re not going to have surplus stock.”
I tried to argue with her logic, but, as always, her reasoning was sound. “Have you asked her about doing a signing?”
“Boss, you know her as well as I do. And you’re the owner of the store.”
“Didn’t you say your sister went to school with her?”
Sun rolled her eyes. “Yes, Rainbow was in Raven’s class. Yes, she used to hang out at our place. But you’re the proprietor of this establishment.” She waved her hand around. “I’m just the employee.”
My scowl returned with a vengeance. “Bullshit.”
She tisked.
“Oh, please. There’s no one here.”
One perfect eyebrow arched.
Damn, if she’d come in without me hearing her, then…
“Relax.” Her grin split her face. “No one else is here, so take a breath. And fine, I’ll call Raven. I’m assuming you want her to do a reading as well? I’ll see if she’s available for an evening or weekend presentation. She teaches university during the day, and her books are young adult, so we want the kids to be able to attend.”
“You know a huge percentage of young-adult fiction readers are actually adults.”
“I was aware of that.” Her eyes flashed.
“Of course you were.”
Sunshine had been an employee of the bookstore for over ten years. She started when my parents still owned the store and had fortunately stayed on after they retired and turned the store over to me. My folks were happily enjoying their time up in the Okanagan region of British Columbia while The Owl’s Nest bookstore they founded sat in Mission City, part of the tranquil Fraser Valley. We were within spitting distance of Vancouver, but we retained a small-town feeling.
“I’m going to open the box we got yesterday and—”
“It’s already done.”
Now she scowled.
I shrugged. “I was bored.”
“Boss.” No missing the exasperated tone. “When your parents renovated the second floor and turned it into an apartment for you, I’m positive they didn’t intend for you to spend all your spare time in the store.”
I’d concede that much. They hadn’t wanted me worrying about a mortgage. Their ingenuity meant I had a lovely home above the shop. It also meant I could come down whenever I had insomnia. The smell of books invariably soothed me, and I’d soon be ready to crawl back into bed. “Well, I’m sure you can find—”
The sound of a gunshot rang through the store.
My first instinct was to duck, but gunfire in Mission City was ridiculous. Ah, must be a car backfiring. “So if—”
Another one.
My gaze shot to Sunshine.
She raised an eyebrow as if to say, what’s your point?
This time, a motor revved.
My hackles rose.
“Drink your coffee, boss. I have some news.” She inclined her head. “Remember when the McKinneys sold their store?”
“Sure. About six months ago.” Where was she going with this?
“And you didn’t know who bought it?”
“I presume you’re going to enlighten me?” I loved her, but occasionally she took her sweet time getting to the point.
“A motorcycle repair shop.”
I gaped. “How did they move in and I didn’t notice?”
She rolled her eyes. “You just spent the last week at a book-buying convention in New Orleans, and you stopped in New York and Chicago. Did you think the world held its breath while you were gone?”
“Well, frankly, yes. This is Mission City. Nothing ever happens in Mission—”
Another loud rev.
“Goddamnit.”
She snickered. “Whatever.” She waved her hand. “They had a crew come in last week. Pretty much worked twenty-four/seven. Got the entire thing done up. Looks pretty spiffy. Of course, in a week or two, there’ll be a layer of grease and—”
“They can’t stay.” I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Absolutely not. We can’t have a repair shop next to the bookstore. Oh, why did the McKinneys have to sell?”
“Because they literally won the lottery?” She snorted. “And moved back to Prince Edward Island to be with their kids. Why run a hardware store when you can sit and watch the ocean waves?”
“I…” I had no idea. Not about any of it. I worked. I worked hard. I couldn’t fathom sitting around all day looking at water. No, my parents gave me a job when I was thirteen, and I’d worked almost every day since—when I wasn’t in school. So, in other words, half my life.
This tangent was getting me nowhere.
Another rumble.
I flailed my arms at the huge overstuffed chairs. “We want readers to come in, put their feet up, and stay awhile. How’re they going to be able to think, let alone concentrate on a book, with all that racket?” I pounded my fist on the counter, startling us both. “I’m going over there.”
She giggle-snorted. “To do what? They have as much right to be here as we do.”
“No. We were here first. Downtown Mission City doesn’t need that…noise.” Could I add more derision to the word? Possibly. Nah, probably not.
Sun placed a hand over my fist. Instantly, a wave of calm washed over me.
Damn woman. I wanted to be mad, and she wanted me to be placid. Sometimes, her sensitive nature overwhelmed my swirling emotions. She often brought peace when my mind spiraled into chaos. On the flip side, I possessed a drive she didn’t have within her. Synergism. I managed the business side, and she handled customers. We could change lanes when we needed to. But why mess with something that worked so well?
And the woman’s sensitivities sometimes veered into psychic abilities, but we never talked about that.
“He’s a nice man. You don’t need to go over there all upset and make a fuss.” She stroked her finger along my thumb. “You need to go and introduce yourself. Welcome him to the neighborhood. I won’t say too much, but—” She glanced around, letting me know she was about to impart a great secret. “—he’s lonely.”
“So what?” I almost said I was lonely, and it was no big deal, but being that personal with my employee didn’t seem a good idea. The sympathy in those sky-blue eyes assured me that my unspoken comment had also been understood. “Fine, I’ll be nice.” Grudging.
“Take him a black coffee.”
I arched a brow.
“A hunch.”
No point arguing or snickering. I grabbed my formerly extra-hot drink and headed out into the morning sun.
Our store faced south, so we had sun for a good part of the day. The sun blazed overhead, promising another scorcher. Mid-June, and we’d already set record temperatures for most of the spring. And really dry too, which meant my parents were likely to have to endure smoke from the wildfires.
I’d tried to dissuade them from heading up into the interior, but they’d tired of city living. I missed them.
I pivoted away from the new store and headed down the road to Tim Horton’s. No line-up this morning, so I secured a cup of dark roast and a six-pack of Timbits. Nothing said gracious more than offering half-a-dozen donut holes.
As I wandered back past my shop, I snuck a peek into the front window.
Aristotle lay resplendent in her window seat, perched upon her preferred pillow. She was a favorite amongst all the patrons, although she was getting older. Still, she was as cute as the day I brought her home.
I’d heard about a litter of kittens found abandoned by the railway tracks.
They’d been in rough shape, and the littlest one had a broken leg, some nasty bites, and an infection.
Sunshine’s older sister, Dr. Zephyra Dixon, had stepped up to offer her veterinary skills for free.
The deal was, I could keep one of the kittens if I raised enough money to pay for the medicines they required. Being all of fifteen, I organized a bake sale at school and guilted everyone I knew into baking and then goaded them into buying the sometimes-questionable results. I raised enough to cover the costs for all the kittens. To my pride and joy, all found good homes. I got my pick of the litter and, of course, chose the little black-and-white one.
After recovering from her broken leg, Ari thrived under the love.
I begged my parents to bring her to the shop so she wouldn’t be alone all day.
They rolled their eyes, but did as I requested and, for all those years, they hauled that cat home every night and back to the store every morning.
When I moved in upstairs, she naturally followed me home every night.
Sunshine watched her while I was out of town.
She opened her eyes, blinked lazily in the sunlight, licked her paw, and then laid her head back down on the pillow.
I wouldn’t have her with me forever, of course, but I’d enjoy every minute until the time came.
Another engine blast raked across my nerves.
Determinedly, I stalked over to the store.
Spike’s Cycles’ façade was much the same as it’d been when the McKinneys owned it. Brown brick with a huge plate-glass window. The old-fashioned wood door had been replaced with a metal one, and the gray color stuck out as too modern.
Oh well.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
The waiting room had three metal chairs, a coffee table with some magazines, and a counter. A couple motorcycle posters adorned the wall.
The room felt jarringly new, but that’d soon dissipate, I was sure. I tried to see past the counter into the back room, but spotted nothing. I exited the store and headed around the corner.
They’d partitioned part of the old parking lot with high wire fencing and razor wire at the top.
It stood out like the proverbial sore thumb and didn’t fit with the aesthetic of First Avenue.
Well, maybe it matched the car dealership at the other end of the street, but that’d been there as long as I could remember.
An overhang covered much of the space, but part of the brick had been torn away to create a massive rolling door that sat open. Three motorcycles sat on the asphalt. No, wait, a fourth sporty type one sat off to the side. Lime green.
Oh, Lord.
The sun glinted off the chrome, nearly blinding me. I squinted and, finally, spotted a human being. He knelt on some kind of mat, giving me the most wonderful view of his amazing ass. His jeans fit like a second skin, and his jean shirt did nothing to hide his broad expanse of back and muscled arms.
He pulled something, and as he shifted, he dropped the wrench.
“Fuck.”
I cleared my throat.
His body twisted as he reacted to my voice and he nearly knocked the bike over. He righted it. Then he righted himself as he rose. He turned and glared. “Don’t you know not to creep up on a guy?”
Creep up on? I pointed to the store. “I tried going in there first.”
The scowl didn’t lighten, but he did shrug. “Okay, what do you have?”
“Have?”
Oh.
I held out the coffee and Timbits. “Just welcoming you to the neighborhood.”
He hesitated.
Far too long. God, did he think I poisoned it or something?
Finally, at length, he wiped his brow with a rag and removed his sunglasses.
Wow. Just wow. Eyes the same dark brown as my ex-boyfriend’s. His hair was as dark as Sunshine’s, although with hints of light brown in the bright sunlight. He had a beard. Not a full beard, but a nice version of trimmed scruff.
I held up the coffee, and he finally accepted it.
“Uh, thank you.”
“My pleasure.” And it would be, if I got to look at this guy all the time.
He was my every fantasy come to life.
Chapter Two
Spike
With great reluctance, I took the offered coffee and the little box of Timbits. Yum, my favorites. But I wasn’t going to let this guy see that. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but my hackles rose at him. Something about his friendly greeting rang hollow. And with the fancy button-down shirt, pressed khaki slacks, and…oh my God, were those loafers? Even his glasses screamed geek. Now, I wasn’t one to pass judgement. Geeks owned motorcycles, too. Well, I’d known a couple. Um, yeah, one. Marvin—the accountant who did my taxes back in Surrey. Most of the guys I was used to dealing with were biker dudes. We’d operated in that part of town.
But here? In Mission City? I hoped to cater to a different clientele. Enthusiasts who rode for fun.
This guy? Discomfort radiated off of him. Probably thought the grease would magically leap from my hands to his pristine clothes. As I sipped the black coffee he brought—my favorite—I scrutinized his dirty-blond, close-cropped, slightly spikey hair and those dark-blue eyes virtually hidden behind the black, plastic-framed glasses. “Well, thank you for the welcome.”
He continued to watch me intently.
Heat rose in my cheeks and I tried to hold his stare. Something about this guy irked me, but what? His welcome to the neighborhood didn’t ring true. The coffee and Timbits were nice, but this didn’t feel like a genuine reception. “You haven’t told me your name.”
He fluttered his hand through his hair.
Ha, so not unaffected.
“Dickens.”
“Yeah, okay, but what’s your first name?”
“Dickens.” With a slight bite.
Ah, so a little touchy about his name. I could relate. I took another sip.
“And your name?” Another slight bite.
“It’s on the front door.”
His brows shot up. “Your name is Spike? That a family name?”
I crossed my arms.
He took a step back.
Well, that was easy. Except, did I want him to back up? The guy was fucking gorgeous, and the more time I spent looking at his lips, the more I wanted to know if they were as soft as they appeared. I wanted to rub myself against him to see if he was as supple as he looked. I wanted to grind my cock into his to see if we could generate some friction.
“Sure, Spike’s a family name. Whatever.” Of course it wasn’t, and we both knew it. But I wasn’t admitting my true first name to anyone in the world. And if my mother hadn’t chosen it, I’d have changed it years ago. But it felt wrong to want to dump something she’d selected with loving care. Even if it had been the source of never-ending bullying and torment for most of my life. Someone at the old shop said I was as spikey as a hedgehog. I later learned the expression was prickly, but spikey caught on, and soon everyone called me Spike. It stuck. So when I struck out on my own, it made sense to keep the name.
“Yes, well, as you say.” He ran his hand through his hair again. The strands were becoming as spikey as my name. “I just…do you think…?” He faltered visibly.
“Spit it out, man. I don’t have all day.” Despite having just opened officially this morning—to exactly zero fanfare—I already had three machines to work on, plus my own beauty needed a tune-up. I’d racked up quite a few miles, coming back and forth between Surrey and my new place. Movers delivered everything Friday, and now, Monday morning, I was set and ready to go.
“I…” He took a deep breath. “I’m wondering if you could keep the noise down?”
I blinked. “Come again?”
“Well, you know, we like a peaceful downtown, and your, uh, bikes are very loud.”
He was serious? “Look, Dickens, I don’t know what you’re talking about. People drive down First Avenue all the time. And there’s parking on the street. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, the train whistles go off all the time.”
Now he blinked. “They’re part of the fabric of our town and its history. We’ve always had industries that rely on the railway. And the commuter train, of course.”
“Of course.” I scrunched my nose. “So all that noise is okay, but not the occasional motorcycle engine.”
His spine visibly stiffened as he stood straighter. “Occasional? It’s been revving all morning. And those things—” He pointed with obvious disdain, “—are designed to be a menace. People make them deliberately louder than they need to be just so they can disrupt the peace.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that. Did I encourage people to do that? Of course not. If they wanted it, did I dissuade them? No to that as well. “I haven’t been revving anything all morning. I needed to check out this baby’s carburetor to make sure she was working properly.” I pointed to the Kawasaki. “That one’s next.”
He took a sip of his drink and scowled.
“Problem?”
“It’s cold.”
Ah. Mr. Prissy didn’t like cold coffee either. Well, if he hadn’t stood around whining, it wouldn’t have grown cold. I, however, was not going to point that out. “Look, buddy, I have to get back to work. I’ll try not to be too loud.” Totally impossible promise to make, but I really wanted him to take his uptight ass off my property and back to wherever he’d come from. “Hey, where do you work?”
“The Owl’s Nest.”
The…? Oh, right, the shop next door. The one with books all over the front window. “That’s a bookshop, right?”
“Of course.”
Guy actually rolled his eyes. I couldn’t think of him as Dickens. The name was just too pretentious. Well, on the other hand, it suited him. But I didn’t want to think about Dickens because that’d remind me of my mom, and I so didn’t want to go down that particular path. “Well, head on back to your bookshop. I have work to do.”
He harrumphed.
Actually harrumphed.
Then he pivoted and stomped out of sight.
Except loafers on the cement sidewalk didn’t have the same effect as, for example, high heels clacking on hardwood. He reminded me of my old boss, Gia. She’d inherited the shop when she was barely twenty-two. Her old man passed suddenly of a heart attack at age fifty. She shucked the biker-babe persona and became a businesswoman. She ran a tight ship and there’d been no bullshit around her place.
All that being said, she loved her high heels and short skirts. She remarried a year ago to my accountant. He brought his bike in for a tune-up, and she strutted out of the office on those spikey heels and, voilà—as my mom would say—they hit it off and three weeks later wore matching leather bike outfits to Surrey City Hall and got married. Gia didn’t mellow and Marvin didn’t swagger, but they did all right.
I had Gia’s unconditional support to start my own place. Fifteen years I worked in her shop. Fifteen years of scrimping and saving every dime so I could build something from the ground up.
So how dare he? How fucking dare he come by and ask me to keep the noise down? Really? People drove down First Avenue, and they weren’t quiet. More than a few motorcycles passed by—one of the reasons I knew this location was perfect. Trains went by all day and night. They rumbled and blew their whistles. More than once the past few nights I’d awoken to the sound. It’d take getting used to.
Just like fucking Dickens would get used to my revving engines on occasion. Wasn’t like I was doing it to intentionally irritate him.
Tempting as that might be.
I washed my hands and then dug into the box of Timbits, demolishing all but the birthday cake one with sparkles. I’d save that for dessert. I eyed the Harley with a mixture of frustration and envy. She was a beauty, but she was being a beast.
Time to tame her.
And put the gorgeous, blue-eyed blond out of my mind.
Or at least try to.
Chapter Three
Dickens
“What kind of a name is Spike?” Not that I’d spent most of the day obsessing over the hot new neighbor.
Sunshine gave me a long, level look.
“Well?”
Slowly, she smiled.
Seriously? “What are you smiling about?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I think you like him.”
“Preposterous.”
“And I think he likes you.”
“Sun, you haven’t even met the guy.”
“Who says?”
My brain screeched to a halt like a needle scratching a record. “What?”
“You think I didn’t go next door to introduce myself and welcome him to town?”
She smiled that serene smile that always drove me nuts. Like she knew something I didn’t and wasn’t likely to share. “And?” A demand she wasn’t likely to obey.
“His name isn’t really Spike.” She held up her hand to ward off my questions. “But he didn’t share his birth name, and I didn’t push. He’s been a mechanic for fifteen years, used to work in a shop in Surrey, and recently crossed the Fraser River to take up residence in our fair city.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “And you guys are more alike than you think.”
Was she…?
Her eyes sparkled. “And no, he didn’t tell me that either. Tries to keep it hidden, so respect that. Not all guys are out and proud like yourself.”
She didn’t need to mention I hadn’t always been. My parents paid for me to attend the University of British Columbia in Vancouver to study business administration.
Sure, I could’ve commuted every day, but they wanted me to have the full college experience, so I’d lived in a dorm for those four years. And experimented. Plenty. By the time I turned twenty-two and was ready to graduate, I felt comfortable coming out to my parents.
And since Sunshine was like a member of the family, she was looped in.
My parents were, of course, incredibly supportive. Possibly a little miffed it took me so long to come out, because they’d suspected since I was in my early teens.
Sun had been sure, of course, but hadn’t breathed a word.
“Slim pickings these days.” Sure, gay guys lived in Mission City. I even knew a few, including a realtor and a counselor up at Sunshine’s sister Kennedy’s counseling center. Cadence and Justin were nice guys. They were also…not my type.
Both were around my age, both were very handsome, and both were very much tops.
And since I was as well, the compatibility hadn’t been there. Had I been tempted? Sure. But why start a relationship knowing certain things would never work?
“Well, your perfect companion is right next door.”
“Sun.” I injected as much menace and warning as I could into my voice and her response was, of course, to laugh.
“I’m finished for the day.” She leaned down to scoop Ari into her arms.
The cat purred and head-butted her neck.
“Want to come home with me? I’ll miss you.”
Sun had kept Ari for the past week, but I’d missed my little one. Well, at nearly twenty pounds, she wasn’t that little. Once, I could hold her in the palm of my hand. Not so much these days.
My errant employee dropped said deadweight onto the counter, and Ari immediately bolted for the keyboard.
I held it up and away, but it was a near thing.
Sunshine laughed all the way out of the store.
Crazy woman. How she could be so happy, given her nine-month marriage ended last month, was beyond me. Or maybe that’s why she was happy. I liked Colton Pritchard just fine, but he wasn’t the right man for Sun. The serious RCMP officer had recently been promoted to a corporal in sex crimes.
Sun was a woman who radiated warmth and goodness.
I think she believed she could lighten up the man.
Well, it hadn’t worked. Now she was alone again. Barely twenty-seven, and two disastrous marriages she needed to put in the rearview mirror.
She had shadows, of course.
Logan, her first husband, had been a stand-up guy. Lots of fun. Then he joined the army, and after a harrowing overseas deployment, had come home a different man.
She tried to buoy him, but he’d wound up taking a swing at her.
He’d left, and despite my general empathy for those serving our country, I’d been happy to see his ass departing.
Then she married Colton before the ink was barely dry on her divorce. Another dark man. She had a type, and it didn’t suit her.
