The Sweetheart Rules (28 page)

“It started easily enough,” she went on. “A little drink, sometimes just one shot, to calm down, ease my nerves—or at least that’s what I told myself. Then one drink turned into two. Three. Until one night, my mother found me passed out on the floor while Jackson was crying in his crib, hungry and dirty and alone. She told me I either got help or she’d file for custody.”

Mike let out a low whistle. “That must have been rough.”

“It was. It was also a wake-up call. I did thirty days, got sober, went to meetings for years, and didn’t even come close to relapsing again until the night I found out Jackson was doing the exact same thing I did.” She pivoted toward Mike, and on her face, he saw a vulnerability that pulled at his heartstrings. This strong, amazing, impossible woman had faced so many challenges. “That’s why I haven’t settled down. That’s why I haven’t gotten married, or even come close. What kind of man wants a woman who once chose a bottle of rum over her own child?”

“A man who understands how hard it is to be good to yourself. To forgive yourself.” He cupped her jaw and ran a thumb over her lip. Damn, he loved this woman, loved her in a way that made her pain his own. “You made a mistake, Diana. You felt guilty about it for a long time, but you fixed it and you moved on. You are a good person inside, one who will do whatever it takes to protect the people you love. I see that. Your son sees that.
You
need to see that.”

“I’m afraid, Mike. Afraid of… failing again.”

“Aren’t we all? The last thing in the world I want to do is screw up my kids, or let them down. Or screw up a relationship with the most amazing woman I have ever met. I don’t love you because you are perfect, Diana. I love you because you are
flawed
. Because you don’t always say the right thing or do the right thing, and because”—he touched her bottom lip again and smiled—“you bite your lip when you’re nervous and you put your heart into everything you do and you have this laugh that comes from somewhere deep inside you. It’s contagious. And so are you. If I wanted perfect, I’d marry a mannequin.”

A smile curved across Diana’s face. “That’d be a mighty quiet life.”

“There are some advantages to that.” He laughed, then took her hands in his. “You accept me, warts and all, and you make me want to be a better man. That’s what I call a perfect match.”

She shook her head and let out a happy laugh. “How did I get so lucky to meet Mr. Right when he was masquerading as Mr. Wrong?”

“You were sitting in a broken-down building that was almost beyond repair, rescuing puppies that were almost beyond hope. And you fell for a man who was almost beyond love. That’s when I knew you were the one. The only one.” He cupped her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. She dissolved into him, returning the kiss with a sweetness that melted his heart and tasted better than any cake ever would. After a long while, he drew back and just held her against his chest. “You never told me. What answer did you give Jackson?”

“I told him I’d let him know in the morning.”

He tipped her chin until those big green eyes were looking into his. “Are you going to make me wait that long, too?”

“Yes.” Then she laughed and pressed a finger to her lips, feigning deep thought. “But you know, it is after midnight, so technically, it’s—”

“Morning.” He dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. This time, he was going to do it right—not just the proposal, but the whole marriage, going into it with his eyes open and his heart connected to the only woman he’d ever truly loved. “Will you marry me and promise to keep me from being too neat, too organized, and too regimented?”

“As long as you promise to remind me to have fun every once in a while and to never ever throw me in the ocean.”

He pretended to think about that for a bit. “Okay. But I might have to renege on the ocean part. Because if you’re wearing that white bikini, I
am
going to want to see what it looks like when it’s wet.”

“That can be arranged, Mr. Stark.” She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. She tasted of honey and chocolate and happiness. “In the very, very near future.”

“That sounds perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Then Mike gathered Diana into his arms and kissed her again, and when the dawn broke and she was still in his arms, he realized that on this particular mission, he hadn’t just rescued his kids or Diana or his future; he’d also rescued himself.

Esther dashed into the morning room, her hair in disarray, her dress misbuttoned and a trail of fabric spilling out of her quilting bag and onto the floor like a multicolored train on a runaway bride. “We have an emergency, ladies! A real, honest-to-goodness emergency!”

Greta scowled. She’d barely had a chance to drink her Maker’s Mark and already Esther was spoiling the day. “My Lord, Esther, it is nine in the morning. There is no emergency that happens at that time of day except for an overflowing toilet after you’ve had your bran muffin.”

Pauline nodded her head in agreement, then went back to her
People
magazine. Behind the picture of Brangelina, Greta noticed Pauline stifling a smile.

“We need to get quilting. Right now,” Esther said. “I just found out my granddaughter is having twins. Two! I only have one quilt done and she’s ready to deliver at any moment. Greta, do you have any spare squares? I need…” She counted on her fingers, then shook her head, tried again. “A lot.”

“Do I look like a woman who quilts more than she needs to?” Greta shook her head, then plucked a muffin out of the bowl on the buffet table. “Here, Esther, have a muffin. You’ll feel better with some carbohydrates. Besides, we have somewhere important to go today.”

“But the quilt—”

“Will be here when we get back.” Greta put an arm around Esther’s ample shoulders. “Wouldn’t you rather see our work in action? Yet another happy ending, brought to you courtesy of Common Sense Carla.”

“And a little B&E by Pauline and Greta,” Pauline added under her breath. Greta snatched the
People
magazine out of Pauline’s hands and swatted her with it. Pauline just laughed.

With extra muffins in tow, they all piled into Pauline’s Cadillac and headed across town. Esther fretted about the quilt the entire trip, until Greta handed her a paper bag and told her that if she didn’t breathe in it, Greta was going to cram it down her throat.

Okay, so sometimes Greta got a little impatient. But she had her own priorities today, and Lord help her, they did not involve quilting.

They pulled into the shelter parking lot a little after ten. The fall adoption event was well under way, with perky balloons decorating the front of the building and a temporary kennel set up outside holding all the pets available to good homes. A banner hung on the front of the building, advertising a two-for-one kitten adoption. Apparently Lois Winston’s calico had gotten busy with Tom Reynold’s tomcat and there were kittens galore in Rescue Bay this month.

“Well, would you lookie there. Harold’s here.” Pauline waved to the mismatched, white-haired figure across the lot. “Hello, Harold! Nice to see you!”

Greta batted at Pauline’s arm. “Will you quit that? You only encourage him.”

The dog at Harold’s side let out a bark, then tugged his leash out of Harold’s hand and came sprinting across the grassy lawn. He darted up to Greta and began licking her palm. She fished in her pocket and withdrew a dog biscuit. The terrier mix took the treat and gobbled it up, then plopped down beside Greta, tail wagging.

“Looks like Harold’s dog knows you awfully well,” Esther said. “I thought you said you avoided him like the plague.”

“I do. But I like to take walks and so does Chester here.” Greta wagged a finger at Esther. “Just because Harold comes along sometimes doesn’t mean I like him or enjoy talking to him. I’m merely trying to improve my health.”

Pauline snorted something that sounded a lot like
bullshit
under her breath. Esther paled and turned away from the two of them, muttering about how they gave old ladies a bad name or some such nonsense. Greta made a mental note to spike Esther’s coffee in the morning.

Harold marched over to them and picked up Chester’s leash. “Why hello, ladies.” He gave Greta a nod. “And Greta.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “We are not here to talk to you. We are here to see how Mike and Diana are doing.”

“Just fine, if you ask me.” He gestured toward the couple, standing together at the information table, while Mike’s little girls walked over to the kennel with Jackson, Diana’s son. The three of them were holding hands, one girl on each side, like an instant family of siblings. Greta heard that Mike had gotten primary custody of his daughters while his ex and her new husband were busy living life as newlyweds in Vegas. It was clearly the right choice for the girls to stay with their father—the perfect choice, really.

“Would you look at that?” Harold said. “Seems to me Mike and Diana took a chance on
loooooove
.” He drew out the last word, then gave Greta a wink.

She shuddered. “I think you have something in your eye, Harold. You might want to get that checked out before you end up with glaucoma.”

“It’s called the apple of my eye, and she’s standing right here, pretending to hate me.”

“Oh Lord. You are truly delusional.” Greta harrumphed and stomped away, crossing to Mike and Diana. Greta could have sworn she heard Harold blow kisses at her back, but she refused to turn around and give him the satisfaction of seeing anything more than her old lady butt.

“Hello, Greta, nice to see you today,” Diana said. She leaned over and gave Greta a kiss on the cheek. “Luke and Olivia will be by soon. Maybe we could all go to lunch later.”

Mike’s littlest one came running up to them. “Can we get ice cream? Ice cream’s a good lunch.”

Diana laughed. “Maybe after we eat something healthy.”

“I agree with you.” Greta bent down to Ellie. “Ice cream is a perfectly acceptable meal. Maybe you and I need to have a talk with Doc Harper.” She straightened, then gestured toward a repurposed pickle jar sitting on the table, stuffed full of one-dollar bills. “What’s that?”

“That is my donation to the animal shelter’s budget,” Mike said with a grin. “It’s a pretty hefty one, too, after a particularly difficult month.”

“Daddy doesn’t need it anymore,” Ellie said, “cuz he’s not going to say any more bad words.”

Diana laughed. “Always an optimist, aren’t you, Mike?”

He smiled, then drew Diana to his side and gave her a quick kiss. “How can I be anything else with such a wonderful fiancée?”

Across the way, Jenny was bending down by the outdoor kennel and wiggling her fingers at a friendly Jack Russell terrier. Greta had heard that the Stark girls were looking for a dog after the last one they wanted went back to its home. Now that they were settled here in Rescue Bay, it was the perfect time to add a pet to the mix, Greta thought.

“Daddy, look. She likes me.” The dog gave Jenny’s hand an eager lick, and she giggled.

Diana unlocked the kennel, then put a leash on the terrier. The dog wriggled forward, sniffing at Jenny and wagging her tail. “She’s going to need lots of love,” Diana said. “She’s had a hard life and needs someone who can take real good care of her. She needs… a family.”

“We can give her that, can’t we?” Jenny asked.

Diana looked over at Ellie, Mike, and Jackson, then smiled and tucked a stray hair behind Jenny’s ear. “We certainly can, honey.”

Jenny bent down and hugged the dog tight. It warmed Greta’s heart to see the little girl so happy, and given the way that dog’s tail was about to wag right off, the new puppy was just as happy.

Harold came up beside her, like a locust who didn’t get the memo about the invasion being canceled. “Well, what do you know? Another happy ending right here in Rescue Bay. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you, Greta?”

“Me? I’m as innocent as a babe in the woods.”

Harold laughed. “Maybe one of these days someone will matchmake you with your Mr. Perfect.” He pressed a hand to his chest and arched one fuzzy white caterpillar brow.

“And maybe one of these days aliens will kidnap you for experimental testing.”

“Oh, Greta, quit denying our love.”

The damned fool leaned in for a kiss. Greta thought fast, grabbed one of the dog biscuits out of her pocket, and popped it between Harold’s smooch-ready lips.

Then she walked away, leaving Harold sputtering about his liver-flavored present. Her heart was light with the knowledge that a
little
meddling had brought about another happy ending in Rescue Bay. Two wins at one time.

If anything deserved an ice-cream lunch, Greta decided, that was it. One with extra hot fudge and enough whipped cream to ease the indigestion named Harold Twohig.

Maybe she’d get an extra ice cream to go. A little gift for Harold, should any hot thoughts run through that fool head of his. If that didn’t work, there was always the fire hose.

She didn’t get to be eighty-three without learning a thing or two about scaring off wild animals. Even ones collecting Social Security.

Turn the page for a preview of the next book in Shirley Jump’s Sweetheart Sisters series

The Sweetheart Secret

Coming September 2014 from Berkley Sensation