Jill Kemerer - Her Small-Town Romance

“The Bachelor?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Dad nodded. “Bryan, you going to tell us or not?”

He clearly wasn’t getting out of it. “Jade is the student I mentioned. She can’t make the Saturday morning classes, so I’m tutoring her on Sundays instead. That’s it.” If he hadn’t given Jade his word, he’d march over to her apartment and come up with an excuse to get out of spending Sundays with her. But he’d offered, and he kept his commitments. Well, all but one. The most important one. His marriage.

The doorbell rang. No one ever rang doorbells in Lake Endwell.

Dad reached the door first, and a huge beast of a dog plunged inside. A pink leash trailed the giant.

What in the world?

Lucy Bloomhall, a data-entry clerk at one of Bryan’s dealerships, followed the dog into the living room. Lucy carried a large tote bag. Her blond hair was windblown, and her face had a dazed appearance.

“Here you go, Mr. Sheffield.” She smiled at Bryan, and her gaze lingered on Sam. She blushed. “Thanks again for taking her. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d turned me down. My parents wanted to help, you know, but Mom’s allergic, plus they’re traveling to Montana in a few weeks. I couldn’t find anyone to watch Teeny for me.”

He scratched his chin, vaguely remembering telling Lucy her dog would be fine while she spent part of her final college semester studying in Spain. Something to do with art. Or architecture. He couldn’t remember, except it started with an A. She’d been frantic when she flew into his office last week, and he’d been poring over the profit and loss statements.

“Her bowls are in there, and she loves the Kong toy. You won’t have any trouble with her. Oh, I have more food in my car. I’ll bring it in.” Lucy swiveled and practically sprinted across the porch.

The dog had jumped onto the couch. Slobber dripped from her mouth to the leather cushions.

“What. Is. This?” Sam stood in the middle of the room, gesturing at the dog, at Bryan and back at the dog.

“Looks like a Saint Bernard. She’s a beauty.” Dad bent to scratch behind her ears. She licked his face. The pooch had white and brown markings with black fur around her eyes. A noise outside startled her. As she leaped off the couch, her tail caught a lamp, flipping it to the ground with a crash before she escaped out the front door.

Bryan flew after her. “Catch it!” He made it to the bottom porch step, but Lucy gripped the leash and was attempting to drag the dog back to the house. Bryan jogged to her. “Let me.”

Adoration glowed from her hazel eyes. “Thanks again. I know Teeny will be in good hands. My flight leaves tonight. Oh, before I forget—I wrote down all my contact information. It’s in my purse.”

Teeny lurched ahead, almost yanking free from Bryan’s hand. Strong dog. He didn’t want this responsibility, but—he looked at Lucy as she rummaged through her purse—could he really break her heart and make her find someone else when her flight was leaving in a few hours?

His life kept getting more complicated. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

She beamed, handing him the paper. Girlie handwriting. Her i’s were dotted with little circles. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you text me a picture now and then? I’m going to miss this girl.” She wrapped her arms around Teeny. When Lucy straightened, tears glistened in her eyes.

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