Quid Pro Beau (Dog Tags #3)

Chapter 1

chapter one

Daisy

I’ve always lived a rather quiet life. You might even say a boring one. I grew up in a normal family: one older brother, a dad who was a high school math teacher, and a mom who was an assistant librarian. We lived in a pretty standard two-story house on a quiet-ish street in a suburb of Houston.

I’ve never wanted to stand out in a crowd. I don’t particularly like drama. I guess you could say I’m shy. Perfectly content to support my loved ones from the shadows. It’s why my best friend Temple and I work so well together. She’s all gregariousness and sunshine, and I’m just quiet. Contemplative.

But now Temple is married to my brother, Flynn. It happened a couple of years ago and was supposed to be a marriage in name only for her inheritance. The last few weeks though, things have changed dramatically between them. Turns out they’re in love. Like in love, in love.

I’m beyond happy for them. Now Temple is my actual sister, and I couldn’t have asked for a better wife for Flynn. They’re perfect for each other, and I can’t believe I never noticed that before.

Still, I can’t help feeling a bit like they left me behind. Yes, I know how petty that sounds! Please don’t get me wrong. I am so happy for them! I’d never tell either of them, but I’m feeling more alone than I ever have in my life.

My parents retired to Florida a few years ago, and they are loving their life, getting to fish and play on the beach whenever they want. I know my mom would be here in a heartbeat if I called her. But I should be able to handle this situation. I mean I made my bed, so to speak, so now I must lie in it.

Isn’t that the old saying?

So yeah, I’m a drama-free llama, except for the fact that my life lately has been nonstop drama. I’m really ready for things to slow down, but I know they won’t. At least not anytime soon.

I’m getting a little ahead of myself here.

A week ago I showed up on my big brother’s doorstep, here in this small town of Saddle Creek, where he’d moved. I’d taken one look at him and burst into tears.

Flynn pulls me into a tight bearhug. “Hey Angel,” he calls behind him. “Put some clothes on, we have company.”

“Who is it?” Temple yells.

My brother settles me on the couch with a bottle of water.

“It’s Daisy,” he says.

“Daisy!” she squeals.

That makes me smile, even if it is a watery one.

“I have missed you so much,” Temple says as she rushes into the living room. She practically tackles me on the couch.

“I’m so sorry I missed your grandmother’s funeral. I wanted to be here. I tried.” I sniff.

My best friend’s brow furrows. “Hey, do not think another moment about it. You’re here now; that’s what matters.”

I glance between my best friend and my brother. I can see the difference between them. I know they’re married for real now because I’ve texted back and forth with each of them separately, then all three of us together in a video chat. “I can’t believe y’all are all in love and married.”

“We are,” Flynn says. He smiles widely, then reaches over to squeeze Temple’s knee.

“You both deserve to be happy,” I tell them.

I take a sobering breath, then just rip off the proverbial bandage. “I have news,” I say, with another sniff of my nose. “I’m pregnant.”

And those words break the damn of tears. Sobs rattle through me and Flynn jumps up to grab a roll of toilet paper.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any tissues.”

I gratefully take the roll and blow my nose.

“Sweetie, why is that sad?” Temple asks. “Or is it just hormones? Babies are not always timely, but they’re always a blessing.”

“It’s not the baby. It’s that I have to do it all alone,” I say. Then I exhale slowly. “Turns out my perfect British boyfriend wasn’t so perfect at all. He’d been separated from his wife, divorce papers in hand. At least that’s what he told me.”

My brother paces the small length of the living room. Piglet, Temple’s dog paces with him. It’s ridiculously cute, but I can’t even find it in me to laugh at the moment. “Do you want me to kill him?” Flynn asks. “I can make it look like an accident.”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “He’s not worth it. He went back to his wife. She’s pregnant too, it seems. He gave me a lump sum amount of cash for a trust fund for the baby, signed off on his parental rights, and paid for me to come back home.”

“You don’t worry about a thing,” Temple says, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got you.”

And that’s how I ended up living in this charming new town. The downtown square is full of people today. Not quite a full-blown festival, but there are still booths and other things set up near the shops and eateries in town. Dog Days, is what they’re calling it, and the proceeds raised today go to the non-profit Great Dane’s Dog Sanctuary. Since Flynn works there with his former Ranger buddies, I know it’s a great organization.

I haven’t been out there yet, but I keep meaning to go. I was assured—or rather Flynn was assured—that they would find a job for me if I needed one. I still have leftover funds that Timothy gave me, and frankly, I have no qualms about living off of them for the time being. What an asshat!

It seems the entire town has come out in support today and there are people everywhere. Couples with babies in strollers and toddlers riding high on daddies’ shoulders fill the streets. Some of them have dogs on leashes. They’re buying dog themed everything. Of course there are some treats specifically for dogs, but most are for humans.

Like the gourmet ice cream sandwich I had that was shaped like a bone. It was delicious, so I don’t much care what it looked like. I got tired of introducing myself about twenty minutes ago. Don’t get me wrong, everyone is genuinely friendly, and that’s amazing, and I truly feel welcomed. But I needed to step away.

So I’m currently across the street in the beautiful green park that surrounds the old county courthouse. It’s one of those massive, three-story limestone courthouses you see on postcards. It’s surrounded by live oaks with trunks as big around as whiskey barrels and limbs that dip gracefully toward the ground and practically beg to be climbed by children. There’s a gazebo in the center of the park where someone is picking away on an acoustic guitar. There are giggling children, laughing couples, and even a couple of old codgers playing dominos.

Everything is so perfect, so picturesque, so mother-fricking charming, I half wonder if I’ve stumbled into a simulation curtesy of the Matrix. One of those first ones that Agent Smith said they made too perfect and the human brain just automatically rejected.

Everything is so perfect.

Except me.

Here I am, sitting in the shade of one of trees, quietly hating everyone else’s effortless joy and trying not to burst into tears.

Normally, I enjoy being alone. I relish my solitude. But not now. Now, when I’m by myself, my brain is on a hamster wheel of all the mistakes I made while living in London.

Like how I ended up pregnant by a man who conveniently forgot to mention he had a wife and two kids, with another on the way. I pluck up a piece of grass and shred it with my nails, so exhausted from the mental beatdown I give myself on a daily basis.

The truth is, yes, I feel like a complete moron for believing all of Timothy’s lies. I fell fast and hard for his pretty face and even prettier words. I’m not sad I’m pregnant. It’s not a perfect situation considering I’m single and likely always will be. But I at least had the common sense to get knocked up by a rich guy who basically set up a fund that will allow my kiddo to want for virtually nothing.

Okay, that had nothing to do with common sense. Just luck. Maybe. I don’t know.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Then there’s a big dog with mismatched eyes—one blue and one brown—staring at me. He has no leash trailing behind him as he walks up and lays down at my side.

“Well, hello there,” I say to him.

His eyes watch me as I lean forward and give him my hand to sniff. “I’m Daisy. Who might you be?” With a canine huff, he plops his head on my legs.

“You’re just the sweetest, aren’t you? How did you know I needed a friend today?” I scratch him between the ears, and he makes one of those satisfied doggy noises.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve made a real mess of my life lately. I had this plan, ya know? I was supposed to be in England, finishing my certification, doing something meaningful with music therapy. Helping people heal. Instead, I’m back in Texas, freshly heartbroken, pregnant, and relatively homeless.

The dog’s eyebrows quirk as I speak.

“And now my big brother and my best friend are all in love. They’re so adorable. Somehow I’ve become the third wheel in my own dumb life.”

I scratch the pup between his furry ears. His tongue lolls to the side. You’re just the bestest boy,” I whisper. “Wanna come home with me?”

“Yes,” says a low, amused voice behind me. “I’d very much like to go home with you.”

I startle, my heart skydiving straight into my belly. The dog doesn’t move. I turn my head to see the origin of the voice and find… gah… I don’t even know how to describe him.

Tall, dark and handsome doesn’t do this man justice. Not only that, he’s not exactly dark. I’d guess that the hair hiding beneath his backwards ballcap—why is that so damn sexy?—is a dark or dirty blond. Golden-brown eyes meet mine and I swear something inside me tightens. My uterus? My heart? Nope, we do not care about tightening body parts.

Do not look directly at the pretty man. Look away. Focus on the dog.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say, managing more sass than I actually feel.

The man crouches beside me, though admittedly not too close. “I realize. But listen, I’d do whatever it takes to get you to call me your bestest boy.”

That makes me laugh. Out loud. Then the laugh keeps going.

The beautiful man smiles, laugh lines flare from the sides of his eyes and one dimple pops in his left cheek. “I’m Beau, by the way. Nice to meet you, Daisy.”

“You’re a shameless flirt, aren’t you?” I ask. Then I think better of it and shake my head. “Don’t answer that. Is this your dog?”

“Not officially. He’s from Great Dane’s but he got away from me.” He holds up a blue leash. He pets the dog’s belly. “He doesn’t like people. Came to the sanctuary skittish as hell. Spooks at everything. I brought him today to see if I could socialize him more.”

“He came right over to me, plopped himself down in my lap.”

Those whiskey brown eyes meet mine, then boldly rake down my form. “I can’t blame him. Your lap looks very comfortable.”

If I weren’t pregnant by another man’s baby, maybe I would take the bait and say something flirtatious back. But I am done with men. Especially those of the I’m-too-hot-for-my-own-good type. I give the pup another scratch, then stand.

“Well, I should be on my way. Have a nice day.” Then I turn and walk away. By some miracle, I don’t turn around to look at the man or the dog.