Something bumped against her front door, startling her. She switched off the vacuum cleaner to listen to the snuffling noise on the other side of the door. What in the world?

  She cracked it open and stuck one eye against it, wondering what kind of animal was trying to get in. The sight she beheld had her flinging open the door with a delighted and shocked laugh.

  “James Taylor, what are you doing here?” she asked the golden retriever, his tongue lolling out, and his tail swishing madly. Then she glanced past him, down below in the driveway, and her heart skipped a beat.

  Jack stood leaning against her car. Her once-again-perfect Volkswagen Thing. A rakish smile enhanced his good looks as he stared up at her, arms and ankles crossed, all sexy in jeans, a royal blue, cable knit sweater, blue coat, and boots. Dried, autumn leaves swirled around him and a pesky December gust of wind feathered through his brown, tousled hair.

  “I see you sent your dog to soften me up. Did you think I wouldn’t open the door if you knocked?” She was amazed and proud that her voice didn’t tremble with emotion. She wanted to cry and laugh and scream, all at once at seeing him again. With her car! “You brought my baby back to me.”

  He spread one hand across his chest, his heavy brows lifting. “Oh.” He glanced behind him. “You mean this orange heap of ugliness you call a car?”

  She fought off a full-out grin. “Yes, I was referring to the car. Last I heard, they were waiting for parts that they didn’t think they’d be able to get.”

  “They just didn’t know who to call.” He gave a shrug. “I have my contacts.”

  “You.” She shook her head. Nast to the rescue. She squatted down to give Taylor a hug and scratch behind his ears. “I’ve missed you,” she said against the dog’s soft fur. Jack cleared his throat noisily, making her laugh under her breath. Slowly, she straightened and descended the stairs. “How’s your mother, Jack?”

  “She’s doing okay.” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and looked off to the side for a few moments before adding, “She found out that he’s cheating on her. But I’m staying out of it.”

  “Are you?”

  He nodded, turning his head to face her again and let her see the seriousness of his expression. “I am, Sam. I love my mother. Always have. Always will. But I’m through being the cleanup guy, the referee, the drunk’s chauffeur. I’ve retired my suit of armor.”

  Relieved and happy for him, she sauntered closer, eyeing the vehicle. Someone – Jack? – had attached a green wreath with a big, red velvet bow to the front of it. “It looks good. Thanks, Jack. Will the garage send me a bill or should I drop by there today and settle up with them?”

  “Don’t sweat it. I filed it with my insurance company as vandalism on my job site.”

  “Jack! You shouldn’t have done that.” She hurried down the rest of the steps to stand before him. “You just said that you’d retired your suit of armor.”

  He dipped his head to level his gaze with hers. “Are we going to fight now, mon tigresse? You want to square off with me again instead of letting me apologize to you for being an ungrateful lout?”

  Her irritation disappeared like snowflakes bathed in sunlight. “That’s why you’re here? Not just to deliver my car?”

  “That . . . and this.” He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and jabbed a few buttons, then set it on the roof of her car. “Dance with me.”

  “Wh-what?” She glanced around, wondering what he was up to. Pulling her cardigan closer around her, she eyed his mysterious smile. Then musical notes sounded from the phone.

  “This song says what I can’t say because I’m not a poet.” He gripped her wrists and positioned her arms around his neck before resting his hands at her waist. As James Taylor began to sing, Jack swayed to the beat, guiding her into it with him. He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Listen.”

  She snuggled closer to the warmth of his body and smiled when she recognized the song. Mean, Old Man. She laughed at the part about being an ornery cuss making an awful fuss and getting back what he gave, which only made him worse off. She leaned back a little in sweet surprise when the last lines were sung and seemed to be penned about the man holding her, smiling at her with tenderness glimmering in his beautiful, blue eyes.

  “Mean, old man until you turned me into a golden retriever puppy dog,” Jack repeated in a husky voice.

  Sam tipped back her head and laughed up at the sky. “That’s not true! You are nothing like a puppy dog, Jack Nast!”

  “Oh, but I am lucky that you saw me through as the song says and that you were willing to take my hand, put up with my bad manners and bad attitude, and show me how to dance again, how to have fun again.” He ran a hand over the top of her head, his gaze following the path of his fingers as they drifted through her hair. “Clever you. I kept telling myself that I didn’t deserve you – and that’s still true – but I want you, Samantha Striker. I need you in my life. You’re my forever.”

  “Oh, Jack.” She released a shaky breath as the world seemed to get brighter all of a sudden and her heart floated in her chest like a balloon.

  Taylor chose that moment to bark, making them both start a little. Jack flashed the dog a scowl.

  “Pipe down. I’m proposing here, for God’s sake.”

  “Pro-posing?” She giggled, thinking he was full of it, but her humor dwindled to a quick intake of breath when he lowered himself to one knee and took her hands in his. “Jack, what are you . . ?”

  “Proposing, Sam,” he assured her. “If you don’t want to answer me right now, that’s okay. Take a few days. I know I’m a piece of work. I wanted to get this out there because it’s eating at me.” He closed his eyes and frowned. “I’m saying this all wrong, damn it! It’s not how I’d rehearsed it in my head.” His chest expanded as he sucked in a lungful of courage. “Samantha Striker, I love you. I know that probably comes as a shock because I never really let on how much you mean to me. But I’ve loved you probably since we went fishing. Yeah, that’s when I felt it for sure.”

  “You’ve hidden it very well, Jack.” She smiled, letting him off the hook a little.

  “I know, I know. But I’ve been going to Al-Anon meetings like you suggested and they’ve helped clear my head and see what a total ass I’ve been and how I can be a better person and deserve someone like you.” A grin flashed across his handsome face. “It’s mighty irritating how you’re right so much of the time.”

  “I’ll work on it,” she cut in, giving his hands a squeeze.

  “As I was saying . . . with a clear head and heart, I realized that I like who I am when I’m with you. I still have plenty of room for improvement, but I’m all about rehabbing, as you know.”

  “Jack, we’re all works in progress, and I think you’re wonderful just as you are.”

  “Then you’ll marry me?” His fingers tightened on hers. “Don’t say no, yet. Think about it, Sam. Give me another chance and I swear—”

  “Yes.” Joy exploded in her chest and her knees wobbled from the impact. This man. This beautiful, big-hearted man wanted to be her husband!

  “Yes, you’ll give me another chance?” He swallowed hard enough that she heard it, and she shook her head at his misinterpretation.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you because I love you, too,” she corrected him. “Now stand up and kiss me.”

  He was upright and had her in his arms before the last word left her lips. His mouth sealed over hers and she molded her body against his, loving the strength of his embrace and the tenderness of his kiss. He pressed his lips to her eyelids, her temples, the corners of her mouth, and the curve of her neck.

  “You’re sure you’ll marry me?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay, then.” He ran his hands down her arms before letting her go.

  Bereft of his embrace, she reached out, trailing her fingertips down the front of his sweater and wondering what he’d do if she ripped it up and over his head. Suddenly, he held something in front of her. A black, velvet box, which he opened slowly, his smile rivaling the sparkle of the brilliant cut diamond set in white gold.

  “Oh, my,” she breathed. “Where did you get that?”

  “I robbed a jewelry store, Sam,” he teased, taking her left hand and sliding the gorgeous ring onto her finger. “Perfect.”

  “Jack, I don’t know what to say.”

  “I have an idea. Tell me that you love me and can’t live without me.”

  She flung her arms around his neck and delivered a smacking kiss to his smiling lips. “I love you, Jack Nast, and I don’t want to live without you. I love your loud mouth, your frowny faces, your soft heart, and I love, love, love the way you make me feel womanly, and safe, and appreciated for who I am.” She nudged her middle against his, feeling the hard ridge she knew she’d encounter. She gave him a naughty wink. “There’s my nasty boy.”

  “You’re asking for it, Sam, and I’m just the man to give it to you.”

  A whoop of delight escaped her as he slipped an arm under her knees and lifted her into his embrace. He headed for the stairs and took them two at a time, carrying her as if she were a feather pillow. Taylor trotted behind them, up the stairs and into the apartment.

  “My man,” she crooned as Jack took a direct route to her bedroom. “My he-man. My macho man.”

  He fell onto the bed with her, his mouth on hers, his hands roaming over her curves. “That’s me. Forever yours,” he whispered against her throat, kissing every patch of skin his lips could find. “I have a lot to learn from you about setting my priorities and being nice more often than nasty, but I’m a willing student.”

  “You’re doing fine,” she assured him. “You just keep up the good work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” And then, as usual, he showed her who’s boss.

  THE END

  An excerpt from Deborah Camp’s fun, flirty novel, Bedding Mr. Birdsong available on Amazon.

  Lonnie laughed and then straightened, spotting someone across the crowded bar. “Hey, I think I know that woman over there. Wait . . . yeah! It’s her.” She slid off the high stool and waved a hand over her head. “Carin? Hi!”

  An attractive blond in pink jeans and a burgundy wrap-around blouse maneuvered through the crush of bodies to them. She wobbled a little on her nine-inch strappy heels and reached to grip the edge of the table as if it were a life raft and she was on the verge of drowning.

  “Lonnie O’Grady, where have you been keeping yourself, girl?” She flung an arm around Lonnie’s neck and gave her a quick side-hug.

  “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, Carin.” Lonnie motioned for her to sit on the vacant stool at their table. “Join us. This is my friend Zaney Miller. Carin and I went to Columbia together. Last time I saw you, you were teaching English at a private school.”

  “God, that was a lifetime ago.” Carin hitched up on the stool and waved over a waitress. “Can I have a glass of Chablis? Thanks, hon.” She turned back to them, glancing at Zaney. “Nice to meet you . . . was it Zaney?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cute name.” She sighed and addressed Lonnie again. “Teaching. Right. No, I haven’t taught in years. I clerk at RJT Realtors. I’m here tonight drowning my sorrows. Oh, good, here comes my sustenance.” She took the wine glass from the waitress. “Thanks. I need this.” She indulged in a big sip before she continued, “I just broke my engagement. We’ve been planning a wedding for three months and it all blew up today.”

  “Oh, no.” Zaney rested a hand on Carin’s arm, immediately feeling the woman’s pain. “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

  “I’ve been complaining that we don’t spend enough time together. I’ve been doing all the wedding planning because he’s always working.” She took another drink. “He’s a neurosurgeon. I seem to always end up with men who like their jobs more than they like me.”

  “Doctors are notoriously busy, aren’t they?” Zaney asked.

  “Yes, but our wedding is . . . was important! And I wanted to see him more often. I wanted us to go out. Do things together. Be seen. You know?” She looked from Zaney to Lonnie, seeking their nods of understanding. “I wanted to get this one right. It’s number three for me – or it would have been.”

  “Who was number two?” Lonnie asked.

  “My ex-boss. I was working for an abstract company then.” She made an unpleasant face. “That one was a big mistake. We were married nine months and that was six months too long.”

  “I remember number one. Matthew.” Lonnie looked at Zaney. “A hunkahunka burning love, that one. Or he was back then.”

  “Still is,” Carin assured her. “What about you, Lonnie? Are you married? Divorced?”

  “Neither. Yet.”

  “Zaney?”

  Zaney shook her head. “Unscathed, so far.”

  “Sometimes I wish I’d stayed with Matt.” Carin stared gloomily into her wineglass.

  “How long were you two married?” Lonnie asked.

  “Three years. Almost four.” She pursed her lips in a little pout. “I did a number on him. Poor guy.”

  “Oh?” Lonnie motioned for another drink and handed the waitress her empty glass. “Mojito, please. So, Carin, what happened between you and Matt? You two seemed destined for each other back in college.”

  “I got bored and then I got suspicious.” Carin shrugged. “I was young and dumb. He worked all the time – like Ben the surgeon I just broke up with. You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you? Anyway, yeah. Matt was building his business. He’s in advertising, remember? And he was gone all the time.” She finished off the Chablis. “I suspected that he had a mistress, so I decided to divorce him, but I hired a private detective to get the goods on him so that I’d have ammunition in court. Meanwhile, my boss was putting the moves on me and I was lonely.”

  Zaney drained her drink as her estimation of Carin also dried up. She had little sympathy for any woman who broke her marriage vows. When trust was shattered, all was lost in a relationship.

  “You had an affair with your boss,” Lonnie said. “Naughty girl.”

  “I know, I know.” Carin smiled, sheepishly. “Turned out that Matt wasn’t screwing around on me. He was actually working! But I was done by the time I found that out. I was getting it regular from my boss while Matt was at the office night after night, so I went ahead and filed for divorce.” She nodded when the waitress dropped off Lonnie’s drink and asked if Carin or Zaney wanted a refill. “What I regret is that I screwed over Matt and he didn’t deserve it. I ruined him for other women. He doesn’t trust anyone anymore.”

  “You still see him?” Lonnie asked.

  “Matt? Yes, some. We have a cat and he took her after the divorce. I drop by to visit Toodles.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet,” Lonnie said with a soppy grin.

  “Yes, well, Matt used to be sweet until I soured him on women and relationships.”

  “Time heals all wounds,” Zaney opined. Her father and mother had divorced and eventually married again. “He’ll get over it and fall in love with someone new. Just like you did.”

  The waitress set a second glass of wine in front of Carin and handed Zaney another lemon drop.

  “I don’t think he will,” Carin objected. “He’s way too jaded.”

  “I bet you that someone will melt the ice around his heart,” Zaney said. “He’ll learn to trust again.”

  “Maybe.” Carin rested her hands flat on the table and squared her shoulders. “Damn it! I still believe in love even though I’m miserable right now.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to men.”

  “To men,” Lonnie agreed, then added with a bright smile, “It’s not the length. It’s not the size. It’s how often he can make it rise.”

  Carin’s eyes widened and she doubled over in laughter. Zaney giggled, having heard this toast before. Lonnie was always ready with a bawdy, rib-tickling salute. They touched glasses and drank around their grins.

  Carin resumed her lament about her broken engagement, but Zaney only half listened. Her thoughts kept returning to how love can be paradise and then hellish. Her father had remarried within two years after divorcing her mother. It had taken her mother a lot longer to finally trust enough to fall in love again. Zaney had never been in love. She’d come close, she mused. Very close. Almost two years ago, she’d been living with Barry Summers. Boyishly cute, he and Zaney had made an adorable couple. Everyone had told them so. For a minute, Zaney had thought he was “the one.” But he’d signed on for a road company role and had left her, all smiles and not the least bit sad to be moving out. No biggie for him. Biggie for her, although she had expected it. Men leave. That’s just what they seem to be good at.

  “C’est le vie,” Zaney whispered on a wistful sigh.

  “Pardon?” Carin asked.

  “Oh. Nothing. Sorry.”

  “Hey, I have to be going.” Carin motioned for the waitress and handed her a bank card. “Thanks for letting me horn in here, girls. Good to see you again, Lonnie. Let’s keep in touch.”

  “Let’s,” Lonnie agreed.

  In a flurry of hugs and farewells, Carin left them. Glancing around, Zaney realized that the teeming throng had slimmed to a manageable crowd.

  “She’s had quite a life,” Zaney commented. “It’s weird how we haven’t married and she was headed for number three.”

  “I’d rather be us than her,” Lonnie said. “Except, I wouldn’t have minded bedding Matt.” She grinned, naughtily. “He was gor-jus back then! Tall, blond, built. He was on the swim team and the track team. You know how those guys have those long, sleek muscles?”

  “Oh, yeah. I love that.” Zaney closed her eyes as a dreamy vision of wide shoulders and lithe back muscles swam into her mind.

  “Well, Matthew Birdsong was built like that. I don’t know what he looks like now. He could have a beer gut and a scraggly goatee for all I know.”

  Zaney’s eyes popped open as that name sizzled through her. “What? Did you say Birdsong?” She gripped Lonnie’s arm.

  “Yes. Matt Birdsong. You know him?”

 

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