Chapter Eight
No wonder her brother had spent so much time at Waterford Farm.
Beck closed her eyes and listened to Daniel Kilcannon deliver a simple prayer of grace, not fifteen seconds in length. Right before he finished, she lifted her head to capture a mental picture of a family gathered in love, ranging in age from six to eighty-six, at least four dogs around the room or under the table. Every head was bowed while the man at the head of the table asked for a blessing on the food.
If she’d gotten an actual photograph, Beck imagined she might study that shot for hours, trying to learn something about each person there and trying not to fall into an abyss that felt a lot like envy.
She’d never had anything like this, at least not in Bitter Bark, North Carolina. Today, she felt like a person who’d gotten through life on a bicycle with flat tires suddenly taking a ride in a Rolls-Royce. Overwhelmed, inspired, thrilled, and envious of anyone who got to actually live like this.
But not two seconds after “Amen,” the fun kicked in. Chatter arose, and the plates were passed with as much frequency and speed as the jokes. She’d figured out the pecking order pretty quickly during the “cocktail hour”—which was essentially the entire family around the kitchen island teasing their father about his lackluster cooking skills while sipping Bloody Marys.
Aidan had disappeared for a while then, presumably to shower after running around the training pen with a very happy Ruff, and each of the Kilcannons had taken the time to introduce themselves and make her feel comfortable. Aidan had been warm—nice, even—but not overly so.
She couldn’t quite get a read on how he felt about her being there, but it was obvious that seeing Ruff had made him happy. And vice versa.
So, Beck gave in and got to know the family.
Liam, the oldest, was married to a beautiful and quite pregnant Andi. They had a son, Christian, and they owned Jag, a German shepherd who was never more than two feet from the little boy. The baby was lovingly referred to as “BTB” for “Baby to Be” since they’d opted not to find out the gender in advance.
Then there was Shane, the wisecracker, married to Chloe last month. She was the mastermind behind the Better Bark campaign to build tourism in town by attracting families with dogs, including their own sweetheart, Ruby.
Garrett, the middle brother and former dot-com sensation, sat next to his wife, Jessie, who evidently had been Molly’s best friend as a kid, and it was Molly’s empty seat, next to her daughter, Pru, where Beck sat right now. In addition to Jag, there were dogs named Lola, Kookie, and Rusty, and one named Meatball stayed close to Pru.
And Ruff, of course, who planted himself under Aidan’s chair.
“You look befuddled.” Across the table, Darcy, who was about a year or so younger than Aidan, beamed a gorgeous smile at Beck. Everything about her was gorgeous, Beck mused, like all the fabulous Kilcannon genes had come together for one last hurrah on the final child.
“Just trying to get everyone’s names straight.”
Next to her, Pru leaned closer. “Usually when we have guests, I make little name tags in front of everyone to help out.”
“You do?”
“And I like to run new people through the events of the day,” she added. “So you know what to expect.”
“That’s why we call her General Pru,” Shane chimed in.
“Someone has to keep order in all this chaos, lassie.” Gramma Finnie, as Beck was instructed to call the octogenarian, put an arm around Pru and added a squeeze. “You do you, as we say.”
As no other eightysomething Beck knew said, but then, hadn’t someone told her Gramma Finnie was something of a minor Internet sensation herself?
“Was it difficult to start your blog?” Beck asked the older woman.
“I didn’t set out to be a blogger, ye know,” Gramma Finnie said. “I wanted a place to keep all the sayings and proverbs I have in my head from my old country, and this little angel…” She gestured in Pru’s direction with a weathered hand with deep-violet nails. “took the time to teach me how to use a computer and the internet, and I’ll be danged if I’m going to be one of those old folks they make fun of on BuzzFeed.”
She knew what BuzzFeed was?
“Then it sort of happened. Before I knew it…” Gramma Finnie laughed and shrugged. “I had a following.”
Beck’s mouth slipped open wider. “That’s amazing.”
“Nothing like Darcy, though,” Gramma Finnie said. “Her Insta puts us all to shame.”
“And brings in a ton of business,” Shane added.
Darcy waved off the compliment. “Please. I take pictures of dogs being groomed,” she explained. “It’s nothing. You’re the real photographer, right? Dad told us you photograph babies.”
“I do,” she said. “I own a studio called Baby Face, and all I do is take sweet portraits of tiny little miracles every day.”
“Awww.” Andi put her hand on her very large belly. “Will you take one of BTB when he or she is born?”
“Of course. With Christian, if you like.”
“And Jag!” the little boy chimed in with a mouthful of food.
“What a fun job,” Darcy exclaimed. “Babies are even cuter than puppies, if that’s possible.”
“Both in the same shot would be gold,” Beck agreed. “I’d love to try it.”
“How did you get into that business?” Darcy asked.
“I went to art school in Chicago and majored in photography with an emphasis on portraits,” she explained. “I didn’t love doing adult portraits, but I discovered I had a knack for working with little ones. One of my friends had a baby, and she let me do the pictures and use them for marketing. Then I posted them in every Mommy and Me group in and around Chicago. And before I knew it, the business was booming.”
“Success is doing what you love,” Gramma Finnie said, her Irish brogue as thick and sweet as the bread pudding Beck had seen come out of the oven a while ago.
“You’re to be commended on your determination,” Dr. K said.
“Oh, she’s determined.” Next to her, Aidan shot her the shadow of a smile, enough that all she wanted to see was more.
“Determined to get people to tell other people about my business,” she said. “And it worked. Word of mouth is everything when you’re growing a small business, as I’m sure you know.”
Darcy snapped her fingers like she’d had an idea. “We need a dog photographer here. Professional.”
“There’s a business Waterford doesn’t have yet,” Shane said. “I like it.”
Aidan shook his head. “Don’t try to get Beck to do more than a few shots of Liam and Andi’s baby. She’s up to her eyeballs with the pizza parlor problems. Right, Beck?”
She glanced at him, almost surprised that he’d mention her travails at Slice of Heaven. But why deny it? “It’s a challenge, that’s true.”
“I know it’s been tough since your uncle got sick,” Dr. K said.
“It has. Business is slow.”
“I know a lot of people tried to stop in and support the place after your uncle’s stroke,” Chloe said. “Did that help?”
“A little, but…” She shook her head, embarrassed to admit it was her failure in the kitchen that ended the local love. “I’m afraid my aunt is thinking about giving up, selling, and moving to Florida. She thinks Uncle Mike might do better in a tropical climate.”
A collective groan rolled around the table. Not Aidan, though. He didn’t moan at all, Beck noticed.
“That’s a shame,” Liam said.
“The place is an institution,” Garrett added.
“Slice of Heaven?” Darcy asked. “I can’t imagine Bitter Bark without it.”
“Better Bark,” Chloe corrected with a sideways smile aimed at her sister-in-law. “But I know Slice has a no-dogs-allowed policy. Any chance that might change?”
Beck shook her head. “My aunt’s not a dog person.”
Aidan snorted softly. “Understatement alert.”
“Not everyone is,” Dr. K added.
“Plus Ricardo’s down the street is all about the dogs and they have a wait every night,” Shane added. “Chloe and I eat there all the time because Ruby is treated like a queen.”
“It’s a little more than that.” Beck set her fork down with a sigh, unwilling to let Aunt Sarah’s decision not to let dogs in the restaurant get blamed for their troubles. “We’re not going to have customers lined up until I get better at making pizza.”
Most of the people around the table chuckled uncomfortably or frowned in sympathy, but Aidan turned and looked right into her eyes. “Maybe you need lessons. I’m happy to help.”
For some reason she didn’t know, like, or trust, her heart kicked into double time at the way he said that. Like lessons wasn’t all he was suggesting.
“Aidan’s pizza is amazing,” Darcy chimed in.
“So good,” Andi agreed. “Since he’s come home, I’ve craved it every day.”
“And oranges, Mommy,” Christian chimed in. “Remember how you made Liam get you oranges the other morning when we were all still in pajamas?”
Andi laughed at her cravings and her cute son, along with the others, but Aidan leaned closer to Beck, adding gentle pressure with his substantial shoulder. “I’m serious,” he said under his breath.
“Well, thank you, but I know you have work to do here.”
“Actually, he’s not that busy right now,” Dr. K said. “Liam slowed the new K-9 unit training classes until after the baby, and that’s where Aidan’s been needed the most.”
“So I’m free to teach and train,” Aidan said. “And you do know that the testimony about my pizza skills is real, since I already worked a whole afternoon with you.”
“You did?” The question came from several surprised people at the table, including Dr. K.
“I didn’t know that,” Aidan’s father added. “Then you already know that he can help you out of this bind. And we’ll do our part to spread the word among friends and clients.”
Everyone agreed to do that to help out, but Beck glanced at the man at the head of the table, slightly suspicious of his motives. Wasn’t he the Dogfather? The matchmaker? “Thanks, but I can get through this,” she said. “I’m getting a little better every day.”
“But you only need some basic lessons,” Aidan said. “And if the business starts to boom thanks to my family doing a little word of mouth assistance, I’ll be there to help fill the orders while you learn. It’s a good solution, Beck.”
She held his gaze for a moment, considering the offer. Fill orders. Teach her to make pizza. Or worm his way so deeply into Ruff’s heart that she didn’t stand a chance with the dog? Or was it her heart he was worming into? Based on the way those blue eyes were holding hers, she wasn’t sure.
“I can help you at least until your uncle is back on his feet,” he offered, so magnanimously that if she said no, she’d look like she was scared. Which she was.
No one said anything for a moment, and she felt every eye on her.
“Oh, would you look at this.” Gramma Finnie held up her phone, pulling all attention to the other side of the table. “You got a five-star review on Yelp. Pru just found it. Posted on Thursday. Was that the day you were making the pizzas, Aidan?”
Yes, of course it was, Beck thought. Were they all in on this?
“Let me see.” Aidan reached over and took his grandmother’s phone, angling it so Beck could see. “Look at that. One of the travel agents raved. Huh. What do you know?”
What she knew was that not taking his offer was crazy…but taking it was dangerous. And she had the faintest feeling she was getting steamrolled by Aidan. And his family might be powering the engine.
But she really did need the help. As long as she knew why it was being offered by him.
“That’s very sweet of you, Aidan,” she said with a smile. “And so nice because you’ll get to see Ruff every single day.” Which was probably his plan.
“And you,” he said very quietly, under his breath.
Oh boy. Was that what he thought was going to happen? He’d make her fall so hard for him she gave him the dog out of…lust? Did he really think she was that weak?
“Aidan,” she said, “maybe we both can learn a few lessons.”
He lifted a brow. “Maybe we can.”
All around the table, the silence lasted one beat too long.
“So who’s up for a Mario Kart tournament during dessert?” Garrett suddenly asked, breaking the awkward moment.
The response was instant from all corners of the table, except for Aidan, who put his hand on her back.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather take Ruff on a long walk,” Aidan said to her. “Come with us?”
She should say no. She should clean up or play Mario Kart or go home. But first, Beck had to make sure Aidan Kilcannon knew that she was on to him. “I’d love to.”