Forever Home Read online

  Brushing her aside, Lydia searched through the hangers, pulling out a blouse, examining it, and shoving it back in. “Unless something different happens during childbirth than my biology class taught me, I don’t think being a mom is a valid reason why you can’t date. Your parts need a workout every once in a while, and for the love of God, let that beautiful man work them out. Here.” She pulled out a red silk wrap-blouse that dipped low in front and had small cut-outs at the shoulders. “Put this on. It should look good with those jeans and some heels.”

  Izzy glanced at her watch and bit her lip. “I’m calling Brad and canceling. I can’t do this, Lyd.”

  “Yes, you can.” Holding open the sides of the blouse, she shoved first one of Izzy’s arms, then the other, into the sleeves. “Dating is supposed to be fun. Stop treating it like it’s a root canal you have to get through. This isn’t an audition for Ana’s next dad or your next husband.” Tugging the blouse over her shoulders, Lydia pulled the attached belt around Izzy’s waist and tied it in a bow. Grabbing Izzy’s shoulders, she turned her so they were face-to-face. “Brad is a nice guy. Relax and have fun. If it doesn’t work out, no harm no foul. You got a free meal and got to watch some eye candy as you ate it. Learn to lighten up.”

  Izzy’s stomach slid and pirouetted like a figure skater. All solid advice. But how exactly did she make herself lighten up? She was a tightly wound person. She knew this, and it worked for her. She couldn’t just become someone different on demand.

  “I shouldn’t let him pay for me,” she muttered, tugging at the collar of her blouse. It still showed an awful lot of cleavage. “Not with what I know.” Her fingers faltered. How could she go out on a date with a man when she knew he might be forced out of business soon? He barely had money for his current operating expenses. Throw in a move and higher rent…

  His sexy smile and soft kiss had muddled her senses when she’d said yes to the date. She should have known better.

  Lydia pushed her onto her bed and tossed a pair of black spike heels at her. Izzy frowned at the shoes but slipped them on. She’d bought them while dating Javier. They were uncomfortable and impractical, kind of like what this date would be. She couldn’t believe she’d kept them all this time.

  “I didn’t give up my tickets to Griffins hockey to watch Ana so you could back out. You’re going.” Placing a hand on Izzy’s upper back, she pushed her head toward her knees. “Now flip the hair.”

  Izzy threw her head back and glared at her friend.

  Lydia plopped down beside her. “If you really have some information that could hurt Brad, think of a way to work around your ethical obligation to keep quiet. Tell him, without really telling him, if you know what I mean. Use this date as a way to help the guy out.”

  Izzy chewed on the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t tell Brad that his landlord might be kicking him out. But maybe she could do something. Guide Brad in the right direction.

  The doorbell rang, and her heart clogged her throat. It was too late to call him and cancel. Jasmine yipped madly downstairs, Stephanie’s barks joining in frantically, and Ana’s footsteps pounded across the living room as she ran to answer the door.

  Izzy’s pulse throbbed beneath the skin of her neck. She stared at her friend and licked her lips. “It’s just a date, right?”

  Lydia pushed her out the bedroom door. “Right.”

  Gripping the banister tightly, Izzy minced her way down the stairs on those damn heels. She met Brad’s gaze as she took the last steps, and the heat in his eyes when he scanned from the tips of those heels, up her legs, and finally reached her face warmed her all the way through. The heels were uncomfortable and impractical, yes. But effective. If she wanted this to be a real date. Which she didn’t. It was just a dinner out with a friend where she would try to help guide his business in the right direction. She could do that.

  “Hi.” She cleared her throat, hoping to knock the huskiness out of it. “You’re right on time.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate punctuality.” He nodded to Lydia as she came down the stairs behind Izzy and asked her, “How are you and your new dog doing?” Stephanie jumped up on him, and he ruffled her ears. “She seems happy with the change.”

  “She’s always happy.” Lydia pulled the Lab off Brad and directed her to sit with iffy results. “That’s why I like her.”

  Brad nodded approvingly. “Thanks for watching Ana so I can take her mom out.”

  “I don’t know why I can’t come with you.” Ana pouted.

  “Someone needs to watch Jasmine and Vi.” Izzy ran a hand down Ana’s ponytail.

  “Next time,” Brad promised.

  Was he already planning a next time? Preparing for this one date had left Izzy feeling nauseous and jittery. She wasn’t going through it again. Brad rested his palm on her lower back, his hip brushing against hers. “You ready?” he asked.

  His hazel eyes caught hers, the flecks of brown around his pupils dark and warm. The slight weight of his hand was reassuring.

  Then again, maybe this wasn’t so bad.

  She dropped a kiss on Ana’s head. Ana held up Jasmine, and he got a goodbye peck as well. Dropping into a squat, Izzy ran her hand down Vi’s belly as she lay at her spot by the front door. The dog watched her with cautious eyes. Her ears twitched twice, but she didn’t wag her tail or give any indication she liked the affection. Izzy sighed and pushed to her feet.

  “I’m ready.” Grabbing a large wrap from the hall closet, she draped it around her shoulders and picked up her purse. Brad held the door for her, and she marched through it.

  He took her hand on the front porch. “Relax. You’re not facing a firing squad. It’s just a date.”

  Grinding her jaw, she nodded. She was getting a little tired of everyone telling her to relax. It only made her tenser.

  He led her to the passenger door of a beat-up blue GMC truck. Helping her in, he slid a hand down her shoulder and rested one on her knee. He squeezed. “You look beautiful. I couldn’t let us leave without telling you that.”

  Her heart did a little sit spin, joining in the acrobatics with her stomach. She dipped her chin. “Thanks.”

  Closing her door, he circled the hood and slid into the driver’s seat. “So, Pizza Pit sound good to you?”

  Izzy turned to face him, blinking, and he broke out laughing. “Your expression was priceless.” He backed out of the driveway and turned down the street. “I’m not taking you to anyplace with the word ‘pit’ in it for our first official date. I may be an idiot, but I’m not that dumb.”

  Izzy sniffed. “That remains to be seen.” They drove for a minute in silence, and Izzy waited. And waited. Turning on her hip, she sighed, exasperated. “So, where are we going?”

  “I’ll give you some clues. There’s going to be water, alcohol, and you might not get out alive.” He turned and waggled his eyebrows, lowering his voice to Bela Lugosi levels.

  Izzy dropped back into her seat. Water, booze, and potential death. Sounded like a great first date. Not. “Um, we’re not going moonlight river rafting, are we? Because I think I’d pop a hole in the boat with these heels.”

  “Moonlight river rafting? Is that a thing?”

  She shrugged. “Water, drinking, and dangerous rapids. That’s the only thing I can think of that fits your clues.”

  He patted her knee. And left his palm resting on the thigh above. “You have about thirty minutes to figure it out before we get there.”

  “Is there a prize if I get it right?” Shit and damn. She didn’t mean that to sound as flirty as it had. But it was hard not to respond to Brad.

  He rubbed his fingertips along her inner thigh. “Most definitely.”

  His hand was still decently down near her knee, but her mind wandered to the decidedly indecent places it could be. And the prizes he could give her. She licked her lips and considered how
much of a reward she was willing to allow Brad to deliver.

  It turned out not to matter because she could never have guessed where they ended up. She stared at the paddle-wheel boat at the dock on Grand River. “A dinner cruise?”

  Grabbing her hand, he walked backward across the parking lot facing her. “Not just a dinner cruise. A murder mystery dinner cruise!”

  “Oh boy.” She shouldn’t be surprised. Brad acted like a big exuberant puppy most of the time. A nice quiet dinner probably wasn’t in the cards with him making the decisions. But this? “I don’t have to pretend to be a killer or anything, do I?”

  “Maybe.” He flashed his phone to the attendant at the dock, and the man scanned their tickets. “Or maybe you’ll be the victim. But don’t worry.” He squeezed her hand. “If someone kills you, I’ll figure out who did it and bring him to justice. You know I like a good mystery.”

  “Great.”

  He ignored her lack of enthusiasm. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

  She saw there was an open bar, and that brought up her fun level. She headed for it and ordered a glass of red wine. Brad got a beer and then guided her to a room overstuffed with costumes. “We’re on a 1920s booze cruise to get around Prohibition. You have to dress the part.” He pulled a feather boa off a hanger and draped it around her neck.

  “I’m not much for costumes.”

  “We can work on that, too.” Plopping a silver headband with three black feathers glued to it on her head, he stepped close, the toes of his shoes nudging hers. “Playing dress-up can be all kinds of fun.” He trailed his fingers over the shell of her ear and flicked her gold hoop earring.

  A shiver took its time curling down her spine. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about Halloween. Swallowing, she straightened the band on her head with one hand and stepped back. “What are you going to put on?”

  He chose a wool fedora and a pin-striped jacket that nipped in at the waist. Finding a monocle, he put it up to his eye and scrunched it between his cheekbone and eyebrow. He looked like Mr. Peanut gone bad. She bit down on her lip to keep from laughing.

  “What’s a’matter, doll?” He waggled his eyebrows, and the monocle fell out. He caught it in midair. “Youse never seen a gangster?”

  Then she did laugh. “If one of the Three Stooges was a gangster.” She linked her arm with his. “Come on, Curly. Let’s go find our table.”

  Lying on their plates were manila envelopes describing their characters and what they were supposed to do. Neither one of them was the murder victim, and Izzy was glad. The victim appeared to be out of the game early, and she was having too much fun. Brad kept her laughing until her side ached. The constant topping-off of her wineglass probably didn’t hurt, either.

  In between the main meal and the dessert course, Brad nudged her arm with his elbow. “Hey, I forgot to ask you. I’m getting some publicity photos made for the shelter and was hoping you’d be in one. Your face on my website could only class it up.”

  “I don’t know…” Her shoulder blades drew together. For an hour or so she’d forgotten about his problems. Her problems. “I don’t think my face will help you get dogs adopted.”

  “Your story will. Scaling a ten-foot wall because you heard pitiful barking—”

  “I keep getting more athletic each time you tell this story,” she grumbled.

  He grinned. “An action shot of you rappelling from a helicopter would really draw in a crowd. I think my new volunteer, Dax, could help with something like that. He runs adventure tours.”

  “No.” She put on her best mom face. He only smiled wider.

  The server set a dish of ice cream before each of them. Izzy picked up her spoon and dragged it through the vanilla scoop. “Have you thought about moving the shelter to a different location? Your current one isn’t the most photogenic. Perhaps if you upgraded, put pictures of a snazzy new dog shelter on your site, it would bring in more people. I could help you look for a new building.”

  “Nah. Our place is great. Or at least the rent is.” He passed the cream and sugar to her, and she doctored her coffee. “I’ve been there for three years, and as long as we maintain the place, the owner pretty much lets us do what we want. Besides, if the shelter was too fancy, nobody would feel sorry for the dogs and come help them escape.” The fine lines around his eyes deepened with his smile, and something deep inside Izzy ached. Smiles like that didn’t stick around forever. And a smile like that had the potential to make her want forever.

  She had to shut these feelings down, stat. Concentrate on his shelter instead. “Well, it’s always good to keep an eye out.” She sipped her coffee, proud her hand didn’t shake in the slightest. “You never know when something will come up.”

  “Looking for another commission?” he teased.

  She stared into her coffee. Now seemed like a good time for a subject change. “Preparations for the banquet are going well. We have a lot of people donating their services in return for being listed in the program. And because I know someone, we will be well stocked with Tannert wine.”

  Brad whistled. “Fancy. I really will have to get Lydia a thank-you gift after everything she’s done for me.”

  “I can’t believe you convinced her to get a dog.” Izzy narrowed her eyes. “You’re a dangerous man with that sweet talk of yours.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.” Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he rested his hand on the base of her neck. He circled his thumb on her nape, and Izzy let herself enjoy the touch. Would it really be so bad to start a relationship with Brad? So what if he was only looking for a good time. It had been ages since she’d had a good time, and she was due. And she could pick a much worse guy to let her hair down with. Brad might not be serious, but he was kind and funny and seriously hot.

  Her phone buzzed from her purse, and she pulled it out and checked the number. The muscles in her back went tight. There went an end to her good time. She stood. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

  Brad nodded and dug into his ice cream with gusto. Izzy stepped away and greeted her client. “Hi, Bob. What can I do for you tonight?”

  “Hey, Iz. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I ran into a friend of yours.” A television was turned down. “A Tariq Misra. He said he works with you.”

  She forced her voice to stay pleasant. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Well, we ran into each other at a coffee shop and started talking. He has some interesting ideas about, well, you know what. Have you spoken to him about it?”

  She exhaled a long breath. “No. Beyond status updates at a weekly meeting, I don’t discuss my clients with anyone, even my coworkers. For privacy purposes.”

  “And I appreciate that, but I engaged your firm, so don’t worry about talking with him.”

  Great. The man was too paranoid to let his tenants know he was thinking about selling but was fine bending the ear of any real estate agent he happened across. “Well, I’ll certainly be having a discussion with Tariq tomorrow.” Discussion, bitch-slap fest, same thing. That punk thought he could infringe on her territory? Steal her clients? And give her a break, there was no “happen to run into each other” at a coffee shop. It was a calculated maneuver on Tariq’s part to steal her client, and one that deserved a forceful response.

  “Good, good. I think the three of us should meet. Maybe come to some decisions.”

  “I’m happy to meet to discuss the sale—”

  “Ixsnay on the alesay!”

  Izzy rubbed her forehead. “Bob, no one is listening in on our conversation. And even if there was, speaking in pig latin isn’t going to fool anyone.”

  “Which is why we need to meet in person. You, me, and Tariq.”

  “I don’t think that’s—”

  “Eleven o’clock? My house?”

  She flinched. “My office would be better.�
�� Safer.

  “Okey-doke. See you then.”

  “Until tomorrow.” She disconnected. Yanking the feather boa off her neck, she crushed it in her hand. A feather drifted to the ground. Clutching the phone to her chest, she took one deep breath. And another. Inhaling and exhaling through her nose until she stopped seeing red. When she no longer thought she’d explode, she strode back to her table. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  Brad stood. “Is something wrong at home?”

  Tucking her purse under her arm, she shifted on her feet. “No, something came up for work. I have to get back and prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Hate to break this to you, babe, but we’re on a boat. We’re not getting off until they let us off.”

  She ignored the warm buzz she got when he called her babe and pointed out a large window to the lights growing closer on the shore. “And if I’m not mistaken, we’re pulling into the dock soon.”

  “Right.” He guided her to the costume room and took her boa and headband. “It’s Sunday night. You’re really going to spend it working?” Shrugging off his coat and jacket, he put everything away. The monocle went into a basket with smaller props. “Come on, Izzy. The night’s still young. Let’s go—”

  “I have to go home.” How could a man who played with dogs for a living understand? Work didn’t end with the punch of a time card. She was on the clock all the time.

  He held his hands up, palms out. “Okay, I’ll take you home. I just think it’s a shame you couldn’t give yourself one night off to have fun.”

  As they stepped out onto the deck, a brisk wind whipped Izzy’s hair around her face. She clutched her wrap tightly around her shoulders, and Brad moved to stand behind her. Folding his arms around her waist, he pulled her back into his front, shielding her from the breeze and sharing his warmth. They watched in silence as the paddle wheel eased up to the dock.