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Authors: Christina Skye

A Home by the Sea (25 page)

Years of experience in each touch, he thought. She had watched and learned well. Yes, her grand father would be very proud of her.

“Andy, meet Noah. He's visiting from D.C. I hope…we'll be seeing a lot of him here.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Andy raised an eyebrow but asked no personal questions. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Grace. Caro's grandmother called from the hospital. She said their phones have been down, but things are fine. She was going to take your grandfather down to the cafeteria for some ice cream. While I had her on the phone, I spoke to Dr. Lindstrom and gave him a full report on the animals. He was worried that some of them might have been hurt. He was worried about you, too, Grace. I told Morgan that you'd call soon.”

“My cell phone's out. Is the phone still working here?”

“We got power back right before you arrived. Be my guest. I'm going to finish checking the cages in the other room. Then chow time.” He slanted Noah a thoughtful glance. “If you're in the mood, I could use a hand back there.”

 

T
HE ADRENALINE WAS FINALLY
wearing off.

Noah had been right about that. He had been right about a lot of things.

Grace put down the phone, glad that she was sitting down. Her knees felt weak and shaky, and she would have killed for a cup of coffee. But she had managed to reassure her grandfather about her own safety and the state of the animal shelter. Despite the earthquake tremors he had felt, he was calm, and Grace knew much of that calm was due to Morgan, who had been there to distract him during the ordeal.

He had asked her about the Harbor House and whether it had been hurt. Grace had tried to be reassuring. But now that the call was over, the anxiety returned in a flood. What would they do if the repairs were too expensive? And what if it was beyond repairing? What if—

No
.

Grace closed her eyes. She had meant exactly what she had told Noah. They would plan and analyze, then face the realities. And if one dream ended,
another dream began somewhere else. Her grandfather's accident had taught her that much.

But right now she wanted a puppy in her arms. She wanted to feel a wagging tail and the lick of a warm tongue. She wanted comfort in a restless body.

She wanted—

Her breath caught.

Noah was flat on his back in the middle of the floor, surrounded by barking dogs. Andy had opened the cages of some of the more docile dogs and half a dozen of them had raced out to explore. Noah was holding a package of dog treats up in the air, laughing as a German shepherd sat down in the middle of his chest, barking noisily.

Noah just kept laughing and the fight for the treats continued.

As she pushed open the door, Noah's eyes met hers, glinting with humor and intelligence and more than a little mischief. Grace felt the emotion build, felt the love sweep over her and overwhelm her.

But there were still things they had to discuss.

“Well—I've got more calls to make. Catch up with you later.” Andy cleared his throat and left, closing the door carefully.

She sat down on the floor next to Noah, pulling the big dog from his chest. “We need to talk. I want to make plans. And I can't when I'm worrying about you.” She took a short breath. “I can't stand not knowing if you're safe.”

Noah sat up and cupped her face with hands
that weren't quite steady. “I'm careful. I'm trained, honey. Somebody has to do the job. But it won't be for much longer.” He brushed the tear from her cheek and kissed her, whispering her name. “I was transferred. I was going to tell you this morning. I thought maybe—” Noah smiled as the collie puppy tried to burrow between them, looking for more treats. “I thought you might come visit.”

“Transferred where?”

“To Paris, for three months. Then I can consider other options here in the States. Probably most will be administrative. While I'm in France, I was hoping you could come and show me the ropes. Versailles. The Louvre.” His hands tightened. “I'll only be there a few months. And after that—we'll work out the rest. I love you, Grace. I don't want to live three thousand miles away from you, either. I want us to make this work.”

Her hands slid into his hair. “Say it again.”

“Versailles. The Louvre—”

“No. The part about loving me. I'm listening with all my heart, because it's whole again, Noah. And I'm feeling the kind of love I'd given up on, the one that lasts through six kids, twelve grandkids and a house you grow old in together. But say it again first.” She looked down, laughing as the collie wriggled into her lap and licked Noah's chin wildly. “We both want to hear you say it.”

“I love you. I loved you from the moment I saw you rifling through that Dumpster. I love how you
didn't care that you ruined your coat and shoes to do the right thing.” His mouth curved. “I even loved you when you cheated.”

“Wait. I didn't cheat.”

“Snow down the collar. A definite foul. Then you tripped me during our snowball fight.”

Her eyes glistened. “I didn't trip you.”

“Yes, you did. You knocked my feet right out from under me. I went down hard for the count and never got up again. I was a broken man.”

His easy grin told a different story.

“You didn't act broken.” She traced his cheek.

“Funny thing, I discovered I liked it. I wanted you to keep on kicking my feet out from under me.” Noah scooped the puppy up and rested him on his shoulder. The dog barked once and then sat happily, watching the activity from his perch.

Feeling safe, just the way Grace felt safe.

Noah scratched the dog's head, his smile fading. “I was going to wait for a better time. I wanted candlelight and a few dozen roses to say this…” He took a breath, his eyes very dark as he dug in his pocket and took out a small velvet box. “Will you marry me, Grace? It may be too soon or too much to think about now, but—”

He opened the box. A ring of twisted silver with three yellow diamonds gleamed against the velvet. “It was my grandmother's. I've been carrying it around with me, trying to find the right time to ask
you. But it never came.” His eyes turned grave. “Of course if you don't like the setting, we could—”

“Yes.” She took a shaky breath and leaned closer. “Yes, of course I'll marry you. And I love the ring,” she whispered. “It's perfect just the way it is.”

We're perfect together just the way we are,
Grace thought.

Noah didn't mind the dog hair or the puppy breath that surrounded them. He looked as if he was having the time of his life.

So did the dogs racing around him.

You could always tell about a person by the way animals reacted, Grace thought. They knew who was a friend. They knew whom they could trust.

A giddy feeling filled her chest. She had been in stage three of infatuation before. Now in one smooth movement she had soared all the way to stage ten. The real thing.

He slid the ring onto her finger. “You're sure?” he asked.

She pulled him down and kissed him. “I love you. I've never been more sure of anything in my life.” Hearing the break in her voice, the puppy barked and leaned over Noah's shoulder, licking her face.

Noah slid the puppy gently to the ground. “I told you I wouldn't make it easy to forget us. How we felt together.” His arms slid around her waist. “How well we fit.” He pulled her closer and kissed her with aching tenderness. “Like this.”

Grace felt her heart dive straight to the bottom
of her chest. “Prove it,” she whispered, enjoying the glorious danger of throwing her heart into his keeping.

Knowing there was no safer place on earth than right here in his arms.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-1524-5

A HOME BY THE SEA

Copyright © 2011 by Roberta Helmer

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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