A Home Come True. Cheryl Harper

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      DAYDREAMING ABOUT SHOVING a buttered dinner roll into Sarah Hillman’s mouth to keep her from laughing again was a sign that it was time to leave the party. Almost everyone Jennifer Neil loved was there, but the noise of so many conversations, the heat of too many people in a cramped space and Sarah’s joyful laugh had hit the overwhelming stage. Jen needed some quiet, some breathing room. Soon.

      Food this good should mean no leftovers but three of Rebecca’s perfect buttery-soft dinner rolls were left, and they would make excellent missiles to launch across the table. Sarah’s best choice for return fire would be the grilled asparagus at her elbow. Jen hated asparagus. A food fight would not be the smartest way to maintain their peace.

      Stephanie Yates was telling a story about a Peruvian lizard in her Peruvian shower that would have been hilarious except for two things. Jen had already heard this story half a dozen times, and Sarah Hillman had tipped her head back to laugh again. The throbbing pain in Jen’s temple resumed.

      When the walls started to close like this, Jen knew she needed to exit. She was suffocating. No matter how hard it would be, she had to save herself.

      Unfortunately, she’d somehow landed as far away from the front door as possible in Rebecca Lincoln’s cramped dining room. Rebecca had spent enough of the lottery winnings that she, Stephanie Yates and Jen had shared to fill a small bank vault redoing the kitchen, but nothing on the rest of her cozy house. With all of her new spare time and mad money, Jen had become a home-improvement show devotee so she knew any designer worth his or her paycheck should have insisted on knocking down a wall. Open plan was where it was at.

      If the gathering had been made up of Jen, Rebecca and Stephanie only, Jen would have had zero trouble breathing. They’d spent so many Friday evenings here during high school that it was sort of Jen’s home, too.

      Even Sarah, her former nemesis, was growing on her. When Rebecca had informed Jen that the three of them would be giving away Rebecca’s share of the winnings to worthy projects, Jen would never have imagined Sarah Hillman and her animal shelter would become so important to them and to Jen, in particular. If Sarah hadn’t been such a spoiled mean girl in high school, she might have rounded out their group then.

      Since Sarah and Jen’s stepbrother, Will, the guy entrusted with Rebecca’s funds, were now together, it just made sense to keep a close eye on her.

      Honestly though, spending time with these women was easy. They accepted her rough edges.

      But the other Musketeers had insisted on dragging along their beefcake, so the whole place was exceeding maximum occupancy. Rebecca’s parents had been lucky. They’d bailed on this going-away dinner early, blaming a long day of flying. They’d taken a break from their Floridian retirement to be here to wish their son, Daniel, and his happy bride well.

      There were still too many bodies crammed in this space. It didn’t take a math teacher to figure that equation out. Someone should call the fire marshal. She’d do it herself but her phone was in her purse by the door.

      “I’ve got to get to the door,” Jen muttered and craned her neck to check to see if she could maneuver between Rebecca’s sparkling quartz-topped breakfast bar and the row of chairs.

      The only person who’d managed to sit quietly through dinner, Cole Ferguson, was crammed in the corner next to her. While Rebecca had been buzzing back and forth from the kitchen, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. For most of the dinner, he’d managed to keep his eyes on his own plate, but it was impossible to miss how he turned toward Rebecca every time she spoke or her arm brushed his.

      Sure, it’s sweet now. But all the lovesickness in the room will be gross pretty soon.

      Especially for the only single in the room of couples.

      When Jen finally got his attention, Cole studied the room. “The door? Impossible.” The big guy leaned back to carefully drape one arm over Rebecca’s chair.

      “Impossible, huh?” Jen twisted her chin to crack the tense vertebrae in her neck. “When you say that, it’s like waving a red cape and I’m the bull that’s going to charge right out of here.”

      His rough laugh spurred her on, but no matter which direction she looked, there was someone blocking her. Fine. If she couldn’t go high, she’d go low. Very low.

      Thankful for her earlier decision to wear the designer jeans that had once belonged to Sarah, but had become Jen’s favorite pair by way of the consignment shop, Jen tried to turn every bone in her body to mush. Slithering out of the chair with this little room wasn’t easy, but once she was on her hands and knees under the table, it was a piece of cake to crawl right down the middle.

      “These floors are spotless,” Jen muttered with a shake of her head.

      As soon as she reached the end of the table, Jen tapped Stephanie’s knee and waited for her to check below the table. When it took a second tap, Jen started to wonder what sort of life Steph had lived in Peru.

      The tablecloth lifted. Stephanie blinked twice at her.

      “Scoot. I need out.” Jen waved a hand and waited impatiently for Steph to move.

      When an opening wide enough for her to wiggle through opened, Jen slowly stood and brushed off the knees of her jeans before stomping her feet to loosen her pant legs down into her boots. Then she held both arms out and stretched. This was going to work.

      When she turned around, all the conversation had paused. Six pairs of eyes were locked on her.

      Jen smoothed her hair behind one ear and smiled. Then she pointed at Cole. “He said it couldn’t be done.”

      Every head swiveled to study Cole, the ex-convict who’d landed at Paws for Love in desperate need of a job to make good on his second chance. He held up both hands. “That’s not how it went down, but...”

      Rebecca grinned as she pressed a kiss against Cole’s cheek. The pink that spread across his face would have been cute if he hadn’t had a glare that could stop a train. That had to have come in handy in prison. Rebecca said, “Mistake. Nobody tells her what she can’t do.”

      Cole opened his mouth to argue and thought better of it. Jen was only doing what her friends expected of her. Being the first to bail on a party was her way.

      “I guess this