The Promise of Home

Dev dropped to his knees and the shaggy head snapped around, fangs bared around the object locked between its jaws.

Relief mixed with the adrenaline as Dev came face-to-face with a pair of intelligent, albeit guilty, brown eyes.

“Violet, no. Drop it.”

“Violet?” the woman squeaked.

“That’s her name.” Dev held out his hand and received a soggy shoe with a ridiculously high heel in return. He scrubbed a thumb over a tooth mark in the leather, winced when it didn’t come out. “I’m sorry she scared you. Violet might be the size of a Volkswagen Bug, but she’s harmless.”

“It…it looks like a wolf.”

Which explained why she’d taken refuge on the hood of her car. Sort of.

“Your average timber wolf doesn’t wear a collar.” Dev buried his hand in the thick ruff of fur around the dog’s neck and jingled a pink, heart-shaped tag as proof.

“I thought she was going to attack me.”

Dev arched a brow. “So you threw a shoe at her?”

“I didn’t throw it. It…fell off.” She was glaring at him now, not Violet.

Dev was getting the distinct impression that the blame had somehow shifted from the dog to its owner.

Violet bumped his arm, her pink tongue unfurling in a cheerful doggy grin, content to let him clean up the mess she’d made. Typical.

Dev buried a sigh and reached out his hand to help the woman down.

She didn’t move.

It occurred to Dev that he probably looked a little…rough. A razor hadn’t touched his face for over a week and his camo fatigues had been washed in a spring—

The breeze shifted and Dev saw the straight little nose twitch.

—And dried by the campfire.

Yup. Now she thinks you’re a serial arsonist.

He scraped up some of the manners that had gotten a little rusty from lack of use.

“I’m Dev McGuire.”

“Jenna—” Her lips compressed as if she regretted revealing that much information. “Just…Jenna.”

Dev wondered what he could say to reassure her that neither he—nor his dog—were a threat.

“I live next door.”

Eyes as blue as the forget-me-nots scattered along the shoreline fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, as if she were gauging the distance between the two places.

Now she moved. Away from him.

Dev’s lips tipped in a rueful smile.

Apparently that wasn’t it.

Chapter Two

Jenna stiffened.

Was he laughing at her?

When she’d seen the animal hurtling across the patch of lawn like a furry twister, Jenna automatically slammed the car door to protect the children inside.

Which left her on the outside.

Faced with a decision—one hastened by the knowledge that the size and weight of something didn’t necessarily reduce its capacity for speed—Jenna had vaulted onto the hood, sacrificing a shoe in the process.

So maybe she’d reacted—okay, shrieked. Once. Or had it been twice? But not very loudly. And only because the beast had pounced on one of her favorite Kate Spades as if it were a juicy T-bone steak.

Jenna had been trying to figure out a way to get back inside the car when he showed up.

Her heart had almost stopped at the sight of the man in camouflage emerging from the woods that bordered the property.

Jenna sneaked another look at Dev McGuire and what she saw didn’t exactly put her mind at ease.

The man looked as unkempt as the wolf-dog-public nuisance now sitting sedately at his feet.

A swatch of sable hair, carelessly combed by the warm breeze skipping off the lake, had fallen across his broad forehead. Underneath a heavy growth of stubble, the features were lean and defined, a pleasing clash of sharp angles and rugged planes. Tiny lines fanned out from eyes that should have been hazel or chocolate brown, not a pale amber that reminded Jenna of clover honey.

“I can replace the shoes if necessary.” Dev McGuire broke the silence that had fallen between them and shot the dog a wry look. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make…ah, restitution for damages.”

Jenna didn’t doubt that for a minute.

“That’s not necessary.” She replaced her shoe and slid off the opposite side of the car.

Dev looked amused, as if he’d guessed that she wanted to keep her distance. Between him and his dog.

“If you ever do see a wolf, Just Jenna, I would recommend taking shelter inside the car.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jenna said stiffly. “I appreciate you coming over to get your dog, but don’t let me keep you any longer—”

“Can we get out now?” A small voice piped up from inside the car.

Jenna had been waiting for Tori to talk to her all morning but these weren’t exactly the words she’d wanted to hear.

She winced when her neighbor’s focus shifted to the backseat, where two small faces were framed in the window, noses pressed against the glass.

Jenna hadn’t forgotten about her niece and nephew, she just didn’t want to draw attention to the fact they were there.