the canine’s face than either brown or black. “I can see that.” Shelley stared at the dog that had inadvertently crushed her dreams and been Colt’s constant companion for the past twelve-plus years. The big fluffy-haired pet was still as friendly and alert as ever.
And he still brought a flood of resentment to her heart.
Buddy looked at Shelley as if he remembered her. And her attitude. Yet he still wanted to be her friend. She pushed her guilt away. That dog, and the nonstop chaos he had caused, was just as responsible for her breakup with Colt as Colt was. She had to remember that. The look on his face, the one that always set her heart to racing, said he surely did.
“I can take him home first,” he offered.
That, Shelley knew, would just delay the inevitable, because Colt and Buddy were practically inseparable— and she might as well come to terms with that. “No,” she replied with a resigned sigh. “Bring him.”
“You’re sure?” Colt asked.
Shelley shrugged. She could do this. She knew she could. “If we’re going to be living just a few houses away, you and I are going to have to make peace with the past. And I have to make friends with your dog, too.” She had to get to the point where Buddy was just another dog, instead of the love who had stolen Colt’s heart.
“Then I’ll see you in five,” he promised.
* * *
COLT WATCHED AS SHELLEY got into the aging red Prius she had inherited from her parents and led the way over to Spring Street. The big yellow-and-white Victorian was the same as it had been when her parents were alive. A century old, it had a covered porch that wrapped around the entire house.
A porch swing stood sentry to the right of the front door.
It was—and had been—the perfect place to see everything that happened up and down the shady, tree-lined street. It had also been the perfect place for snuggling. Colt and Shelley had logged a lot of hours on that swing when they were dating. Just looking at it brought back a flood of memories.
Of course, she’d logged a lot of hours on it after they had broken up, too, as she’d sat there, swinging and fuming. And even more after he’d had the gall to tell her in no uncertain terms what he thought of the man she was marrying. Not that he’d been any better at picking a mate. He had yet to find the right woman.
Exhaling in frustration, Colt got out and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door, grabbed the leash on the floor and snapped it onto Buddy’s collar.
Buddy was still staring at Shelley as if trying to figure her out, too. Colt petted his dog on the head. “I know she’s pretty,” he said softly. “But she doesn’t like dogs.”
The pooch looked at Colt seriously.
“Yeah, well.” Colt shook his head. “I know. Hard to believe. But it’s true. So you be on your best behavior, fella,” he told his dog sternly. “We don’t want her adding to her already gigantic grudge against us.”
Buddy’s days of enthusiastically jumping down from the cab were long over. Colt lifted his eighty-five-pound companion on the grass next to the curb, then waited while Buddy lifted a leg.
Meanwhile, Shelley hurried toward the front door. “You can wait on the porch,” she said over her shoulder.
A minute and a half later, a high school girl came out, pocketing cash. Shelley followed, a good-looking toddler in her arms.
Colt couldn’t help but stare. He had always been attracted to Shelley, even when they were at war with each other. It would have been impossible not to be, given her cloud of soft shoulder-length auburn hair and her fathomless pine-green eyes. But seeing Shelley hold the child so tenderly put her in a whole new light. This was a maternal side of her that he hadn’t anticipated. And found just as appealing as her inherent femininity and lithe dancer’s body. She was, and always had been, the woman he most wanted to bed. That hadn’t changed, either.
Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, Shelley smiled for the first time since they’d set eyes on each other again. “Colt, meet my son, Austin. He’s two.”
Colt noted her little boy had the same auburn hair, appealing face and dark green eyes as his mother. Able to see why Shelley was so proud—the little tyke was as cute as could be, and intelligent, too—Colt extended his hand to the little boy.
Austin clasped the hand-carved red wooden truck in his hand that Colt knew was three generations old. He recalled seeing it when he had been dating Shelley years ago. The antique toy had been saved for her first child. At the time, because he and Shelley had been in the grip of a fierce teenage romance, everyone thought that Colt might be the daddy to that baby.
It hadn’t turned out that way, however.
Shelley’s son turned his head and buried it in Shelley’s shoulder. The action shifted the scooped neckline of her T-shirt, baring a hint of lace and silky smooth skin. Noticing, Colt felt himself stir.
Not good. Not good at all. The last thing they needed was their former chemistry sparking to life. The two of them were just too different. He hadn’t ever completely thawed her in the past.
He sure wasn’t going to do it now.
Her son was much more welcoming. The little boy proudly showed Colt his truck and said, “Mine. My truck.”
“It sure is your truck,” he agreed.
Satisfied that Colt understood the import of what he was holding, Austin turned back to Shelley. “Down, Momma. Want down.”
Shelley looked at Buddy, who was sitting next to where Colt was standing in a perfect sit-stay.
Although it wasn’t necessary, Colt took his dog over to a cushioned wicker chair that had also been there for years. He pointed to the section of the porch beside it, and Buddy obediently lay down. Paws stretched out in front of them, he waited.
Colt sat down next to Buddy, and then Shelley set her son on the other end of the wide front porch.
Oblivious to the tension between the adults, Austin walked over to a wicker basket full of toys. He pulled a wooden cube from the pile, opened the lid and dumped the shaped blocks out onto the painted floor. Grinning, he plopped down beside it, shut the lid and began fitting a piece into the similarly shaped slots, while Shelley looked on happily.
“I hear you are going to be teaching dance classes at the community center full-time now,” Colt said.
Shelley smiled. “Classes start tomorrow afternoon.”
Colt recalled her on the dance line for the marching band, in that short skirt, skimpier top and boots. She’d been the captain of the group, and man, she had been able to move—to the point that no one could take their eyes off her. Especially him. Not that he needed to be remembering that.
“I hear you’re in law enforcement.”
Colt nodded. “I’m a deputy with the sheriff’s department.”
Shelley shook her head, clearly perplexed. “I never thought you’d go through with that.”
“Why
