Everybody Knows (Sunnyside #1) (2 page)

With barely a glance in her direction, he held up
his index finger and moved toward the sidewalk. A shaggy puppy sat on its
haunches, wagging its tail, and lolling its tongue out of the side of its
mouth. In one swoop, he scooped the critter up and settled it in the crook of
his arm.

“Oooh, a dog, how cute.” Her pulse raced. “Where
did he—she—it come from?”

“From the Dempsey house.” He nodded at a place
behind her. “I couldn’t take the chance you wouldn’t see her.”

“Oh, my God, I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” Planting her
palm on her forehead, she felt a little faint at how close she’d come to
killing the tiny creature.
She
—the
woman who believed in the sanctity of life in all forms, who didn’t eat meat
and couldn’t bring herself to kill spiders or snakes or even mosquitoes—had
almost hit and killed a dog. Her empty stomach executed a triple somersault.

The man had lost his baseball cap when he’d
charged in to save the shaggy blond puppy. The hero of the moment had the sort
of honey-brown hair that streaked light in the summer but probably deepened to
pecan in the winter. It had a natural tendency to curl around the edges and an
obvious absence of styling products. Even two weeks on the wrong side of a
mediocre haircut, something about the untended thickness made Harper itch to
thread her fingers through it.

The dog rescuer towered a good half foot above
her. She looked up, intending to thank him for his intervention, but an
immediate zap of attraction sent shock waves zinging through her.

Really, he had the kind of face that grabbed hold
of a girl’s attention and gave her naughty bits a good shake. She felt hot and
cold and breathless, all at the same time. The moment hung suspended in the
late afternoon sunlight, a moment that went on forever, or flew by too fast,
she wasn’t sure which. She tried to memorize the essence and texture and feel
of it to hold it close and examine later.

The guy was handsome enough to look right at home
in a Ralph Lauren print ad, but so much more... real. Genuine. Strong, but
sensitive. Rugged, but brooding. Devastating, but wary.

Nothing about him signified artificial
enhancement. Backlit by the setting sun, his profile as he bent his head to
soothe the small animal revealed a scar that curved along his chin, smile lines
at the corner of his eyes, and an honest-to-God tan—no bronze spray-on for this
hunky hero.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have been
susceptible to this unsophisticated variety of hot-hot-hot. After all, she’d
spent most of her formative years sharing hair and facial tips with GQ male
models. And Harper knew better than to be sucked in by a handsome face and
killer body. Still, any girl would pause to appreciate natural beauty when she
saw it.

And she’d never seen one of those
too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good magazine models move that fast for anything less
than free drugs, free sex, or free designer clothes. Certainly not to protect
an innocent animal.

“I’m sorry.” She shook herself, trying to get a
grip on her emotions and return to reality. “I didn’t see her at all. You
prevented me from committing involuntary manslaughter—or in this case—dogslaughter.”
She offered a small smile, but his expression revealed no appreciation for her
attempted humor.

The dog’s protector looked up and perused her with
eyes that flared with heated interest and desire before retreating into cool
deliberation. To be fair, since she’d been within inches of turning him into
road kill, the heat she’d detected could have been more annoyance than interest
or desire. But she didn’t think so.

With the full force of his attention turned her
way, his appraisal caressed her from the top of the new auburn highlights/mink
lowlights she’d splurged on right down to her Pretty-In-Pink painted toenails
and all points in between. She basked in another moment of clarity when
everything seemed bright and shiny and new. With infinite possibility.

Right up until he shook his head in disgust.

Disgust? She straightened her shoulders
indignantly. Really?

Okay, so maybe she’d glorified and magnified her
reaction to him. Or his reaction to her. Or both. And even though her hair was
frizzing up like a Brillo pad, she didn’t usually generate disgust.
Disappointment or disinterest maybe, but not disgust.

But then he blinked and his expression transformed
into cool neutrality. Hopefully, it was the disgust she’d imagined, not the
interest or desire.

“I intentionally threw myself in front of your
car, but here comes the person who’ll demand an apology.” He shrugged. “Brace
yourself, this isn’t going to be pretty.”

A young woman in too-tight
denim shorts, unicorn T-shirt, and sequined flip-flops burst from a white
clapboard house across the street. Three stair-step children poured out behind
her. The screen door slammed in exclamation.

Damp but drying tendrils of hair waved around the
freckled faces of the two little girls, maybe six and four years old, both of
them wearing shorts over swimsuits. A toddler boy wore droopy, waterlogged Toy
Story swim trunks and carried a Buzz Lightyear action figure. The three kids
and mom all wailed at varying decibel levels. The dog took the racket as a cue
to chime in.

“Are you hurt, Zach? Poor Pippa! Is she dead,
Zach? Is she hurt? Please let her be all right. Plee-ease.”

The chaos of shrieking questions and exclamations
pierced Harper’s brain with sharp staccato stabs through the temple.

The woman and children all reached the guy named
Zach at the same time. Squaring his shoulders, he presented the dog for them to
view.

“She’s fine, Brianna. See?” Instead of calming the
foursome’s fears, his reassurance incited increased screeching. The dog barked
with more force than a dust mop could normally generate.

“What about you, Zach? Are you all right?” Brianna
brushed her hand across his back and shoulder in a concerned but totally
unnecessary gesture.

Even Harper could see that he was fine.
Muscular
and fine.

“I’m fine.” His words echoed Harper’s thoughts
exactly.

Very, very
fine
, Harper silently amended, joining the slack-jawed Brianna for a moment
of synchronized drooling.

Was it her imagination or did the Very Fine Zach
purposefully lean away from Brianna’s touch? Reminding herself that the
interpersonal dynamics of the locals were none of her business, Harper wrenched
her attention away from the man and focused on the situation.

Her head still reeled from how close she’d come to
killing the fur ball. Someone’s pet, in fact. The death would have left her
stunned and distraught. More importantly, the children would have been
traumatized and heartbroken. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Brianna and the crying
kids, trying to block the image of this helpless animal flattened under her
tires. “I’m so, so sorry,” she repeated to the puppy. “I didn’t see you there,
Pippa.”

She reached out to pat Pippa’s fuzzy little
forehead, only to have the dog snap and nip her hand. Harper jerked the
appendage back and shook it, feeling slightly less apologetic. “Ow.”

“Don’t try to pretend our precious pet bit you,”
the woman ordered. “Your crazy driving behind the wheel of that expensive car
could have killed her. I should call Jimbo and file a report!”

“What?” Another wave of confusion and
disappointment rolled through Harper’s stomach. Maybe she was light-headed with
hunger, maybe she’d hit her head on the steering wheel, or maybe the woman was
just plain nuts, but a second encounter with Sunnyside natives was falling
short of a Welcome Wagon moment.

“Come on, Brianna. Jimbo brought Jillian and the
new baby home from the hospital this afternoon,” Zach said. “He doesn’t need to
haul over here to write up an incident report where no harm occurred.”

“No thanks to
her.
”
Brianna pointed an accusing finger in Harper’s direction. “She was driving
recklessly.”

“No, I wasn’t! I was well under the speed limit.”
She hoped. Harper hadn’t seen any signs with speed limits posted since she got
off the highway. “Looking at house numbers.”

“Strangers shouldn’t be driving any which way, not
paying attention, on streets where they don’t belong,” Brianna insisted.
“Everybody knows dogs and children live on this street. It could have been a
child you hit instead of a dog!”

Nausea welled in Harper’s throat at the thought.
She opened her mouth to protest the charge again, but Zach stepped in.

“She didn’t hit a dog or a child, Brianna. She
wasn’t speeding or driving recklessly, and she’s here to meet me. I assume you’re
the new librarian?” He flicked his gaze in her direction again.

“Harper Simmons, that’s me.”

“Harper, this is Brianna Dempsey. The neighbor
across the street from your house.”

“Hello.” Attempting to salvage the situation,
Harper gave a cordial nod.

Brianna discontinued ogling Zach just long enough
to acknowledge the introduction. “Well, the kids and my mother will be happy
when the library reopens. I don’t know why they had to hire an outsider to make
that happen, though.”

“Without the library grant, Sunnyside can’t afford
to maintain it.” Zach’s long-fingered hands smoothed over Pippa with a
competent and gentle touch. He gave the puppy’s curly topknot one last ruffle
before passing her to the largest of the three children. “Here you go, Khloe.”
He stooped to the child’s level and lifted her chin. “Don’t let her out without
her leash again, okay?”

Silent tears dripped down the little girl’s
scrunched up face. “I didn’t. Leo opened the door. Why do I get blamed for
everything?”

“No, I didn’t.” The little boy popped a thumb into
his mouth and clamped an arm around his mother’s ample left leg.

“Bella was supposed to be watching Leo,” Khloe
continued.

“Nuh-uh.” The younger girl mumbled, scooting over
to attach herself to her mother’s right leg and chew on a grubby fingernail.

“No one’s blaming anyone,” Zach told Khloe, “but
as the oldest, it’s partly your responsibility to stop the younger ones from
letting the puppy out.”

“That sucks,” Khloe said on a gigantic sniff.

As the older sister stuck with trying to keep
Fiona in line for years, Harper sympathized with Khloe. And why didn’t Zach
task the overbearing mother with the responsibility of keeping the dog inside?
“It does suck, doesn’t it?” Harper stooped beside Khloe for another attempt at
petting the child’s pet. “I always had to keep an eye on my little sister,
too.”

This girl eyed her with suspicion. “You have a
little sister?”

Harper nodded. “She’s big now, but she used to get
me into trouble all the time.”

“Did you have a puppy?”

“No, but I might get one now that I’m moving to
Sunnyside. Yours is so cute and cuddly.”

Khloe scuffed her toe on the sidewalk. “We love
her.”

“That’s right,” Zach said. “And we all have to
take care of the people and animals we love, especially a puppy like Pippa
since she can’t take care of herself.”

“All right.” The little girl’s shoulders slumped
as if he’d shifted the weight of the world onto them. Hugging the puppy to her,
she turned to trudge up the driveway. “Come on, Leo and Bella. Let’s take Pippa
home.”

“Thank Dr. Zach for saving her,” Brianna
instructed.

A sweet duet of “thank yous” floated to them from
Khloe and Leo.

Bella turned back and flung her arms around Zach’s
knees for a quick hug. “Thank you.” She looked up at him with a dimpled smile
that melted Harper’s heart.

Dr.
Zach, huh? That made sense. The precise way he’d handled the dog indicated
experience with animals. He might be a vet. A very hunky vet, of course. Harper
bet lots of women in town, like Brianna, had acquired pets for the pleasure of
visiting him.

“Hang on,” he directed Bella and the other two.
“Tell Ms. Harper Simmons goodbye.”

Khloe and Leo stopped and waved, leaving Bella to
voice their farewells.

It didn’t surprise Harper at all when Bella
mispronounced her name. Kids had been doing that for years.

“Bye, Ms. Persimmons.”

“It’s Harper Simmons, honey,” she gently
corrected. “Not Persimmons.”

With a shrug, Khloe waved one of Pippa’s paws at
her. “Okay, ‘bye, Har Persimmons. Thanks for not running over our dog.”

Ugh.
Harper closed her eyes and fought down another wave of mortification.

“Yes, Zach. We’re so lucky you were here.” Brianna
smiled warmly at her friend, sparing Harper a momentary glare. The children’s
mother pressed a hand to her ample chest. “After I saw the dog had escaped and
there was a strange car coming down the street, my heart almost stopped. I
couldn’t believe how fast you moved to save her, but Larry always says you were
the fastest high school quarterback in Sunnyside history. You never stayed
inside the pocket if you had the chance to run.” Brianna’s expression changed
from admiration to suspicion as she turned to visually inspect Harper from head
to toe. “Nice shoes,” she said, on a begrudging note. “Where’d you get those?”

Harper stuck out a foot and rotated her ankle, so
they could all admire her fabulous footwear. The sandals made her legs appear
about a half mile longer than they were. She peeked up to see if Zach was
looking, too.

He was. Staring, in fact.

Maintaining a neutral expression, he slipped his
hands in his pockets. But she once again detected a spark of more than passing
interest in the depths of his warm chocolate eyes.

“They were a gift,” Harper didn’t mention they
came to her straight from the designer’s workshop. That was one of the perks of
India’s job that would probably make matters worse with the resentful Brianna.
Don’t stir the pot. You’re going to have to
live across the street from this witch.

Her neighbor pursed her lips in distaste. “Who
gives someone a gift like that?”

“My mother, actually.” Harper smiled and shrugged.
“She’s very stylish. And generous.”

“Hmmpf,” Brianna sniffed. “You won’t need fancy
shoes around here. Most of us wear Keds or flip-flops. And just remember, you
better not speed on this street anymore.”

“I wasn’t speeding.”

“Not helping,” Zach muttered. With a kung-fu grip
on her elbow, he tugged her across the street under Brianna’s watchful eyes.
“Tell Larry there’s a bus trip being planned for a Cardinals game next week,”
he called back to her. “If he wants to go, have him contact Wayne at the Lucky
Dog.”

“Will do.” Brianna fired one final shot. “Have
that woman move that foreign car out of the middle of the street.”

“Moving it now, Brianna.”

“Ease up.” Harper pulled her elbow out of the
vise-like grip he had on it and slid into the driver’s seat. “What’s wrong with
your friend? Is she always that contrary?” That bipolar?

“She has her problems.”

“Don’t we all? Why does that give her the right
to—”

He cut her off with a gesture of his hand. “Pull
into your driveway.”

She was glad he’d stopped her. Not her place to
criticize the locals, her new neighbors, and, hopefully—possibly—future
friends. Besides, her heart gave a happy little shimmy as his words registered.
Her driveway!

He was waiting on the steps when she hopped out of
the car. “Is this really mine?” Unable to stop smiling, she reached her front
porch. Her first very own front porch.

“It really is.” A reluctant grin twitched at the
corners of his mouth. “Or, it really
will
be. Temporarily. Eventually.”

She stopped smiling and crossed her arms over her
chest. “What does will be mean? Temporarily? And eventually? I mean, I have a
pretty good grasp of the English language. Just tell me what they mean in this
context.”

“
Temporarily
means that you’re allowed to live here while you fulfill your contract under
the terms of the library grant.” He took a deep breath as if gathering strength
before presenting unhappy news, but he met her gaze head-on. “Will be and
eventually mean the renovations we’ve been working on aren’t finished. It’s not
ready for you to move in.”

“It
looks
finished.” She peered about, trying to take in everything at once. The door,
the windows, the brick. The gorgeous stained-glass transom.

“The exterior’s as good as it’s gonna get. Inside,
we waited to refinished the floors after everything else was complete, but they
didn’t get the polyurethane seal on them until Friday, so they aren’t set.”

“Hardwood floors?” A definite case of giddiness
gripped her. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she pressed her face against a
window for a peek inside. “They’re gorgeous!”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged those really-fine broad
shoulders. “The smell is still noxious, and they haven’t set long for normal
use.”

She tried hard not to let her disappointment show.
“Would you unlock the door so I can get a better look?”

“Turn the knob.” He shrugged again when she looked
at him in surprise. “It’s not locked, Chicago.”

She laughed. This not-locking-the-door world would
take some getting used to.

The shiny brass looked just-polished and original
to the house. Firm and solid and welcoming in her hand. With the door pushed
open, the refinishing fumes hit her full in the face, but she stooped down to
view the floors more closely. Wide pine planks in a dark honey finish glowed
with age and fresh shine. “Original flooring?”

“When we pulled up the wall-to-wall carpet my
Great-Aunt Sylvia installed in the Sixties, this is what we found underneath.”

“Beautiful.” Harper’s palms itched to smooth them
over the wood. “Oh! The living room has a fireplace. Is it wood-burning? In
workable condition?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, my God. Somebody pinch me.”

“Love to.” Zach reached toward her shoulder with his
thumb and forefinger at the ready then laughed when she looked at him in
surprise. “Just kidding.”

“Right.” With anyone else, she would have taken
the comment as flirting. But with this guy, Mr. Inscrutable, she wasn’t so
sure. The deep, throaty sound of his laugh wrapped around her and provided a
sense of welcome for the first time that day. “What’s beyond the living room?”

“Dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and master
bedroom down. Screened porch behind the kitchen. Two bedrooms up with a full
bath. It’s not fancy, it’s not finished, but once the floors are set, it’ll be
livable.”