Chapter Nineteen
“Hey, handsome.”
Trace turned when he heard Molly’s voice over the barking, his eyes widening at the sight of her walking down the wide, white kennel corridor. A skirt the color of a ripe raspberry grazed right above the knee, moving flirtatiously over black tights that showed off long, lean legs. Her hair fell in thick waves over her shoulders, bouncing with each step, tempting him to touch it as she got closer.
“Look at that, Tashie,” he muttered under his breath to the little puppy resting in his arms. “Doctor’s in a dress.”
Molly playfully twirled to flutter the skirt and give him a full three-sixty view. “Church clothes.”
“You really go to church?”
“Most of the time, with the family. It makes Gramma Finnie happy, and everyone knows a happy Gramma means a happy Sunday dinner.” She reached to open the puppy gate and gave him a slow once-over. “You clean up nice, too, Bancroft.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment, grateful he’d spent some hard-earned dollars on crisp new khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt. “I had a feeling Sunday dinner wasn’t jeans and Waterford T-shirts.”
“No one would mind,” she said, coming closer and putting a hand on his shoulder. “But this is nice.”
He held her gaze and guided the puppy’s face closer to hers. “My Tashie thinks you look pretty,” he teased.
Molly tapped the dog’s little nose. “Thank you, Tashie. Where’s your brother?”
“Taking a test.”
She frowned up at him. “What kind of test?”
“Shane took him outside for a few minutes and said he’d be back. I asked if he was testing Bo’s therapy skills, kind of as a joke, and he said, yes, which also might have been kind of a joke, I don’t know.”
“Because everything’s a joke to him,” she mused, playing with Natasha’s ear. “But I saw Chloe, and she said Shane was in my dad’s office.”
“Do they test training dogs in there?”
“Not usually.” She made a face. “Maybe someone wants to adopt Boris.”
“I’d hate to separate these two.”
“Wait and see,” she said. “It could be anything. Are you ready?” She put enough emphasis on the question for him to know exactly what she meant.
“Yes, but I still feel like we should tell Pru first and in private,” he said. “I feel strongly about that.”
“Well, she’s going to leave early and go spend the night at Brooke’s,” Molly said. “Tomorrow’s a teacher work day, so there’s no school, and she wants to finish working on her presentation, which is Tuesday afternoon.”
He made a face. “If we tell her tonight, she won’t write it. She won’t enter. She won’t win.”
“But, Trace—”
He looked over her shoulder as Shane came back down the corridor, the puppy trotting next to him without a leash. “How’d he do?” he asked.
“Awesome.” He reached the kennel and nodded to Molly. “This guy’s a natural trainer.”
A burst of pride kicked him, but he waved off the compliment. “Boris’s a sweetheart and easy to train.”
“He’s going to be an incredible therapy dog. We’re moving him into therapy training next week.”
Which left Trace…where? “Oh, okay. What about Natasha?” He held the pup a little higher. “Same?”
Shane beamed. “Natasha has a bigger job to do. And so will someone else soon.” He gave Trace a meaningful look. “We’ll talk at the house.”
Trace nodded. “Sure.”
“We’ll be over in a few minutes,” Molly added, inching closer to Trace. “Make sure Trace has a seat next to mine.”
Shane’s hazel gaze flickered in a little reaction, but he was too cool to say anything. He merely guided little Boris into his kennel and left with a promise to save that seat.
When they were alone, Molly stroked the puppy still in Trace’s arms. “Look how peaceful this dog is.”
“She’s going to be a service dog,” he said, knowing that’s exactly what Shane had meant.
“And you’re going to be offered a job to run our service dog training.”
Was that even possible? He blinked as the reality of that hit him so hard it almost knocked him over. “Do you think so?”
“I know so.”
“You were told this? It’s a fact?”
She laughed, probably at the sound of desperation in his voice. “I’m not in on those kind of hiring decisions, but they’ve been talking about this for weeks. I know my father and brothers want to fill this slot and build it into something significant at Waterford Farm. And based on what Shane just said, they’re going to offer you a full-time job.”
He let out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe it.”
“Why not? You’re a fantastic trainer and you have a touch. Natasha is going to give someone so much happiness, and you are going to take Waterford to a new level for training.”
All he could do was stare at her.
“Don’t you want to?”
“More than I want my next breath,” he admitted. “More than I want anything. Well…” He added a smile. “Almost anything.”
“Pru?” she guessed.
“Actually…” He eased the puppy to the side and touched Molly’s cheek. “I was thinking about her mother.”
Her smile grew as he stroked her skin. “And her mother has been thinking about you. A lot.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. Lightly, at first, then deepening it.
Then all that heat got doused by reality. “But what about when we tell everyone I’m Pru’s father?” He inched back as another thought hit him. “It might make them change their mind about the job.”
She inhaled softly. “I never thought about that.”
“This news is going to have repercussions. You have to remember that.”
She didn’t answer, looking at the dog, thinking. “I don’t want you to lose the job, and I honestly think my family can accept anything, but…”
“A little longer, Irish,” he whispered the plea. “So much hangs in the balance. A dream job. Pru’s contest. My tenuous relationship with her. Even…us.”
“Us? What are we waiting for?”
He inched closer. “For everything to be perfect and right, remember?”
She bit her lip, searching his face. “Well, Pru is going to be gone all night…”
Deep inside, something clutched his chest. Tonight. Tonight. “Tonight,” he whispered. Unless they broke the news and it caused such an upheaval, Molly ran far and fast away from him. Was that possible?
“You’re thinking too hard,” she joked. “Yes, tonight.”
“But your family…”
“Won’t be there tonight.” She dropped her head against his shoulder and sighed. “But today? This Sunday dinner? Everyone will know there’s something going on between us before the first Bloody Mary pitcher is empty. Just accept that.”
“Do you think Pru’s going to make an official announcement? ’Cause I’m not sure I can handle that.”
“You can handle anything,” she quipped. “But I don’t know if she’s going the official announcement route. She’s probably already told Gramma Finnie, who’s let out a hint to Darcy, who texted our cousin Ella.”
His jaw dropped.
“Oh, and sorry.” She slipped her arm through his and started to lead him out. “I forgot to mention my four cousins and my aunt are coming. It’s a big Sunday dinner when the Mahoneys come, too, which is rare since all three of my male cousins are firefighters, and they usually don’t have the same days off.”
“How many people will be there?”
“Well, there are twelve of us, including my brothers’ wives, one fiancée, and Liam’s stepson. Then five Mahoneys, if all four of my cousins plus my aunt are here.”
“Eighteen people at dinner?”
“We’ll probably do a buffet since we won’t all fit in the dining room.”
“Eighteen…and they all know I’m head over heels for you?”
Her eyes flashed as she drew back, a sweet smile tugging at her lips. “You are?”
He leaned closer, lifting her chin to his face. “This can’t come as a surprise to you.”
“What surprises me is that…” She closed her eyes and whispered the rest into a kiss. “I feel the same way.”
Right that moment, he couldn’t imagine how his life could get any better, but he headed to the house with her, feeling certain that it might.
* * *
As Molly suspected, Trace was circled by her three brothers and her father the minute they were inside the kitchen.
“Short business meeting in my office,” Dad said. “Molly, you’re more than welcome to join us.”
For a moment, she considered accepting the invitation, even though training and staff decisions weren’t part of her concern at Waterford Farm. However, it was a family business, and they made decisions as a family.
But something told her Trace’s negotiations should be done privately, and he’d want that time with her brothers and father. So she nudged him toward the other men.
“Go on,” she said. “I’ll make a pitcher of Bloody Marys and talk to the Mahoneys.”
Trace winked at her and headed off with the others, while Molly greeted a kitchen full of relatives. Aunt Colleen was chatting with Andi, Chloe, and Jessie, no doubt discussing the recent wedding as well as the one coming up in April. Darcy and Ella had set up their usual places at the island bar, but the other inseparable couple, Pru and Gramma Finnie, were nowhere to be found.
“They went up to Gramma’s apartment,” Darcy informed her when Molly looked around. “Gramma’s having problems with her new website plug-in.”
Molly snorted. “Phrases you don’t hear at most family dinners.” As she added ice to the pitcher, she frowned again, doing a casual head count. “And the boys?” They all knew the boys referred to the three Mahoney men—Declan, Connor, and Braden—who were all impossible to miss. All in their thirties, they’d stopped being boys long ago, but she’d never think of her cousins as anything but.
“My sons wanted to stop at the fire station on the way over.” Aunt Colleen rolled her eyes. “Shocker.”
“Meaning they’ll be a half hour late,” Ella added. “You’d think they hadn’t just spent a twenty-four-hour shift with half those guys.”
“But they’re all off today?” Molly asked. “It’s so rare when they get on the same schedule.”
“Not rare now that Declan is a captain at the station,” Colleen reminded her with noticeable pride in her voice.
Molly smiled at her aunt, so grateful that the woman not only accepted that all three sons wanted to follow in their father’s footsteps, but she’d also encouraged them. That couldn’t have been easy since Uncle Joe, also a captain, had died well over twenty years ago fighting a blaze.
“Declan will be great in that job,” Molly said.
“He’s excited about it.”
Molly finished mixing the cocktail and poured some drinks, chatting easily with the women when the boys arrived and filled the kitchen. Each one of the Mahoney men was better-looking than the next, each tall, strong, proud firefighters.
Connor and Braden had inherited their mother’s—and grandmother’s—blue eyes, but Declan had Uncle Joe’s dark eyes and hair. They all had Kilcannon jaws, strong and stubborn, like her brothers, and the same good hearts. But the fire station came first in all their lives, so those three were single, along with Ella, the youngest Mahoney.
After about a half hour of easy conversation in the kitchen, she saw Trace come in with Garrett and Liam, all of them looking quite satisfied with whatever had taken place in her father’s office. Her heart kicked up a notch at the sight of him, knowing what that look had to mean.
Trace Bancroft had been hired by Waterford Farm.
Which meant she’d see him all the time. And so would Pru. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping they hadn’t made a mistake waiting so long to tell her about Trace.
What if she—
“You look awfully serious.” Trace was close enough for her to smell the masculine scent of his aftershave and feel the warmth of his whole body next to her.
“Then I better have a Bloody Mary. Want one?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ve been promised a Jameson’s at the right time.”
“That must mean you have good news.”
He held her gaze, his dark eyes glinting with a look she didn’t see often on this man. A look of…hope. Yes, that’s what he had now. Hope and a bright future, when a few short weeks ago, he’d arrived with nothing but mistakes and a dark past.
Her heart soared with that knowledge, quieting her fears about Pru. Letting him get settled and established with the family before making their foundation-rocking announcement was the right thing to do. It was fair for Trace, who’d had so much unfairness in his life.
She smiled back at him, the urge to reach up and hold his face and plant a congratulatory kiss on his mouth so strong she had to will herself to keep her hands on the counter and off him.
“You’ll never guess the perk they offered as a signing bonus.”
Lifting her brows, she tried to think of what that might be. “Housing?”
“Actually, I’ve decided to move back into the house now that it’s so nice and clean. No, they offered something even better, Irish.” There was enough of a tease in his voice that she knew it had to be meaningful, but she couldn’t imagine…
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “A Waterford van.”
“Until I have my own transportation.”
Heat tingled in her chest, mostly because of the way he was looking at her. “Don’t you even think about it.”
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Comes complete with a dog crate.”
She laughed, but then realized the chatter had quieted a bit and…she glanced around, noticing more than a few gazes on them. Oh boy. If Pru hadn’t started her whisper campaign, then they were all figuring it out on their own.
And that was fine, because Molly cared about this man. And she didn’t want to hide their relationship.
“Come and meet my cousins,” she said, sliding her arm through his.
She took him to Ella, who had started the year off with a dramatic “boy cut” of her dark hair that perfectly accentuated her Audrey Hepburn-type of beauty. It was so different from the Barbie-doll blond look that Darcy carried off like a model.
At the introduction to Trace, Ella and Darcy shared enough of a not-so-secret look to confirm Molly’s suspicions that they all knew. Even Aunt Colleen, based on that playful gleam in her eyes when she shook Trace’s hand, was aware this new man was more than a trainer who’d had a dog under Molly’s care for the last several weeks.
They knew about them…and they knew his past.
Realizing that, Molly couldn’t love her amazing family any more. And said a secret prayer that their warm and encouraging acceptance of him wouldn’t change when they found out he was Pru’s father.
Only the Mahoney men seemed in the dark about their budding relationship, treating Trace like any another guest at a Waterford Farm Sunday dinner.
“You’re both firefighters?” Trace asked after they shook hands.
“And Braden, our younger brother.” Connor pointed over his sizable shoulder to where Braden was deep in conversation with his uncle Daniel.
“I’ve heard about big Irish families of firefighters.”
“Only on the Mahoney side,” Declan said. “Kilcannons are the dog people. We save lives and property.”
Shane elbowed him as he passed on his way to the Bloody Mary pitcher. “Where would you be without the Dalmatians we get for you?”
Declan laughed, then turned his attention back to Trace. “And you’re right about the family. My dad was a firefighter, and there was no question we all would be, too.”
“Not me,” Ella called out. “I have bigger plans.”
“Major plans,” Declan said. “When are you going to tell everyone your news?”
“You have news?” Molly turned to her young cousin, always amused by the flighty, funny slip of a girl. Well, the slip of a girl was thirty now and had spent most of her twenties traveling around the world, usually with Darcy. Molly wasn’t sure she wanted to know all the adventures those two had had together.
“We sure do have news.” Aunt Colleen came over and put an arm around her daughter. They were very close in a way that reminded Molly of how she’d been with her own mother. She swallowed a sudden and unexpected pang of jealousy, realizing at that moment how much she wished her mother was still alive.
Annie would have known what to do and when to tell the family and Pru. The ache squeezed as Molly watched her aunt give Ella an encouraging pat.
“You tell them, Ella. This is your baby.”
“Baby?” Gramma Finnie’s voice broke through the crowd, eliciting a few gasps and laughs.
“Not a real baby!” Ella exclaimed in her always over-the-top dramatic way.
Darcy tapped her cousin’s shoulder. “If you don’t tell them, I will.”
Ella took a sip of her drink and grinned. “Okay. It’s official this week. Mom and I leased space on the west side of Bushrod Square where that old video rental place has been sitting vacant for a few years.”
“It’s about time somebody put that prime real estate to good use,” Molly said.
“Well, we are.” Ella beamed at all of them. “Mom and I are opening a franchise of Bone Appetit, the dog treat and specialty store.”
“What?”
“Wow!”
“Congratulations!”
The room broke out in hugs, high fives, and noisy toasts to celebrate the news.
“It’s all your doing,” Aunt Colleen said to Chloe, who was right in the middle of the cheers. “You’ve brought so many dogs to Bitter Bark—”
“Better Bark,” Chloe corrected with the playfully strained patience of a person who made the correction a hundred times a day.
“Well, it’s spurred Ella and me to start the business.”
“We’re proud of you, Mom, because we know you hate change of any kind.” Declan, the de facto Mahoney family leader since Uncle Joe died, held up his glass in a mock toast to his mother. “And you, Smella,” he added, making her roll her eyes at the childhood nickname her big brothers had hung on her years ago.
“Well, this franchise is one of the fastest-growing businesses in the country,” Colleen said. “And Ella and I think we can handle it.”
At that moment, Molly felt the lean, familiar arms of Pru wrapping around her waist from behind. “Hey, Mommy.”
“Pru.” Molly turned, and suddenly, it seemed like another light had come on in the kitchen. Behind her, Gramma Finnie smoothed her soft white hair, which looked particularly stunning with today’s midnight-blue sweater set and pearls. The color showed off her eyes and the spark of playfulness in them.
“What are you two up to?” Molly asked in a whisper.
“We were just talking,” Pru replied.
“About?”
Gramma’s brows rose, and she glanced at Trace, who was still listening to the Ella and Colleen news.
“Of course,” Molly said.
Pru inched Molly closer. “Gramma thinks it’s a good thing.”
Molly eyed the older woman. “I like having your approval.” And she especially liked having her help Pru navigate anything difficult about the situation. “And your help with Pru.”
“I don’t need help,” Pru reminded her.
“Then I do,” Molly said. “Raising a daughter alone isn’t…” Except she wasn’t alone, really. Pru’s father was standing five feet away. “Thanks,” she finished awkwardly, all of them falling silent as the other conversations grew louder.
“And when things settle down at Waterford,” Darcy said from her perch on a barstool next to Ella, “I’m going to help you start a grooming business.”
“Well, things are not settling down at Waterford anytime soon.” Dad took a few steps closer, two shot glasses of golden scotch in his hand. “We have more good news to toast today.”
A small cheer of surprise rose while Molly and Trace looked at each other, holding a long, silent gaze.
He gave her a secret wink that made her toes curl tighter than the ringlets in her hair, and all she could do was smile back.
“We’re adding a new division to Waterford to extend our training to specialized service dogs.”
“Hallelujah,” Liam muttered.
“It’s about time,” Shane added.
“And Trace Bancroft,” Dad said, holding a glass to him, “will be heading that division under Shane’s management.”
While another small cheer erupted, Trace took the glass and nodded at Dad. “I will drink to that, sir.”
They toasted, and as the glasses parted, Dad added, “You can’t call me ‘sir,’ though.”
“Would you prefer Dr. K?”
Dad grinned. “Some people call me the Dogfather.” As everyone laughed, Dad threw back his shot, but Molly was the one who felt the heat in her chest.
He couldn’t have…no. It was impossible. This romance could not be credited to her father, although Trace wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Dad.
It didn’t matter. He was here. And she was very, very happy about that.