First Time in Forever (Puffin Island 1)

In New York her working day would have started hours ago. If she’d been in the office she would have been at her desk by six in the morning. If seeing clients, she would probably have been thirty-thousand feet up in the air flying between meetings. Her life had been a series of stays in faceless hotel rooms and endless work on projects that would never be remembered by anyone. There had been no time to stand still, and she realized that the furious pace of her life had stopped the past settling on her.

Neil had wanted her to slow down and invest in their relationship.

She’d had nothing to invest. Emotionally, she was bankrupt.

She took nothing and had nothing to give. Which was presumably why she had felt nothing when he’d ended it.

Wondering how her carefully ordered life could have spun so wildly out of control, she walked downstairs, brewed coffee and unlocked the door to the garden. She stood, breathing in the aroma of good coffee, absorbing the warmth. Here, the sound of the birds almost drowned out the sound of the sea.

It was a sun trap, sheltered from the whip of the wind and designed as a sanctuary for nature. Kathleen had planted carefully, perennials clustered together in a haze of purples, blues and yellows to attract the bees. Wildflowers, moss and fern grew between rocks, and butterflies danced across petals dappled by sunlight.

It was a perfect peaceful spot. There had been summers when she’d spent hours curled up on one of the chairs reading, lost in worlds that weren’t her own.

“Aunt Emily?”

She turned to see Lizzy standing there, eyes sleepy, her hands holding tightly around the bear.

“Hi.” Emily softened her voice. “You slept?”

“Can we go to the beach?”

The fleeting calm left her. “Not today.” Sooner or later she was going to have to face that challenge, but not yet. Braced for an argument, she was relieved to hear the sound of a car. “That will be Ryan. He’s bringing breakfast.”

“Waffles?”

“Let’s find out.” She should probably have been pushing healthy food, but she told herself there was plenty of time for that. Reluctantly she left the tumbling tranquility of the coastal garden and walked to the front door.

Ryan stood there, one large hand holding several bags stuffed with groceries, the other holding the lead of a thoroughly overexcited dog, a spaniel with eager eyes and soft floppy ears. “Sit. Sit! Do not run into the house. Do not jump up—” He broke off as the dog sprang at Emily and planted his paws on her thighs. “Sorry. I think you can see who is in charge.” He dumped the bags on the porch, reached out and hauled the excited dog away from her, but Emily dropped to her knees, unable to resist those hopeful eyes and wagging tail.

“You’re gorgeous.” She crooned, talked nonsense, smoothed satiny soft fur with her hand and was rewarded with more affection than she could ever remember receiving in her life before. When the dog planted its paws on her lap and tried to lick her face, she put her hands on all that scrabbling warmth and laughed. “He’s yours?”

“It’s a she and, no, not mine. A dog is a responsibility, and I’m not interested in anything that dictates the way I live my life.” But his hand was gentle as he removed the wriggling animal from Emily’s lap. “Calm down. She doesn’t recognize either of those words, by the way. Her vocabulary is a work in progress. So far food is the only word she’s sure about.”

“Who does she belong to?”

“My grandmother. Unfortunately she had her hip done last winter and hasn’t fully recovered her mobility, so walking Cocoa is now my job. I try and delegate, but we’re busy at the Ocean Club today, so she had to come with me. I thought she could play in the garden while we have breakfast.”

A week ago she’d had neither dog nor child in her life. Now she had both. “We’re keeping you from your work.”

“My staff will thank you. They have more fun when I’m not there.”

Taking advantage of his lapse in concentration, the dog darted into the cottage, paws sliding on the floor, and cannoned into Lizzy who was standing in the hallway holding her bear.

Unsure how Lizzy felt around dogs, Emily reached her in two strides and scooped her up. “Her name is Cocoa and she won’t hurt you.” The child was rigid in her arms, and she wondered if lifting her had been a mistake. Should she have lifted Cocoa instead? She was about to lower her when she felt those skinny arms slide around her neck and tighten. Silken curls brushed against her cheek, and she felt warm breath brush against her neck as Lizzy burrowed into her shoulder in an achingly familiar gesture. Something woke and stirred deep inside her, and Emily closed her eyes.

Not now.

This wasn’t the time to start remembering.

“Is she all right?” Ryan made a grab for the dog. “You are a bundle of trouble. My grandmother thought a dog would keep her youthful, but this animal has put ten years on me.”

Dragging her mind back to the present, Emily lowered Lizzy gently, and dog and child stared at one another.

The dog whined and lay down on her belly at the little girl’s feet.

Ryan’s eyebrows lifted. “I guess we know who wields the power. Nice work, Lizzy. She likes you. From now on, you’re in charge. Put your hand out and let her sniff you.”

The dog stood up, tail wagging, and thrust her damp nose into the child’s palm.