Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(57)



“He wasn’t. Clovis called about an hour ago, saying there was a peeper on her porch making heavy breathing sounds. The officer who responded found Giles. He was sitting on her porch swing, semiresponsive.”

“Where is he now?”

“En route to St. Helena Memorial. I wouldn’t be surprised if they kept him overnight for observation. I was headed there when I saw your car.”

Jonah dropped his head, letting the reality of what had just transpired wash over him. If he’d answered the callout, Clovis’s place would have been at the top of his list for places to check, because he knew what was going on between the two of them.

Man, he’d f*cked up. Big-time. And now his uncle was in the hospital.

“Give me a few minutes to grab my stuff and check on the cat, and I’ll meet you there.”



It was the perfect summer morning, Shay thought, making her way toward Cork’d N Dipped, the completed permit petition in her hands. The sun was bright, and there was a light breeze teasing at the orange poppies and yellow snapdragons that filled the wine barrels lining Main Street. And every few feet she’d come across a resident who would smile her way or wish her good afternoon, as though she was part of the inner sanctum.

The best part? Hanging from every gas lamppost was a banner advertising Prance for Paws Charity Pet Walk and three celebrity judges. Shay had no idea who the judges were, only that Peggy must have been hard at work to secure them this fast.

The banners looked professional and polished and, with a different animal peeking out on each banner, impossible to resist. Harper had designed them, Ida had talked a local printer into donating them, and Emerson had gotten them hung in record time. Her friends had done an amazing job, and not just with pitching in. No, their efforts had gone way beyond that. They’d made Shay feel as if signing that lease had been the best decision of her life.

Funny since last night with Jonah had been the best night of her life. She still wasn’t sure what it all meant, but she knew there was something between them that wasn’t going away. It was something she would have liked to explore more this morning, but she had fallen asleep only to wake to a note.

Just thinking about Jonah had a little zing buzzing in her belly, and instead of pretending it wasn’t there, Shay embraced it.

Smiling like an idiot, Shay pushed through the door to the wine bar. The sunlight reflected off of the floor-to-ceiling glass walls that housed thousands of wine bottles. Cork’d N Dipped had one of the most extensive wine menus on Main Street, and with its midnight lighting, mahogany wood floors, and deep red linens, it exuded elegance and seduction.

Today, however, it was filled with every person she’d gathered to help with the charity walk, all wearing Booty Patrol shirts. The free chocolate-dipped strawberries didn’t hurt.

“Look what I have.” She held up the completed permit and waved it a few times. Jonah had not only signed it, he’d put a rush order on it. “Kelly at town hall said I can pick up the official permit from Civic Services on Tuesday. But that’s a formality and we should be good to go.”

“Great news,” Harper said from the front of the bar. She was dressed in a pair of faded overalls and glasses and had paint on her right cheek. Not that it detracted from her ability to control the room. “Now, have a seat. Peggy was just getting ready to tell the group who she secured for the Prance Prince and Princess judges panel.”

“I saw the flyers,” Shay said, taking a stool at the bar next to Emerson and mouthing thank you, since Harper was back to running the meeting.

“The pledge sheets are done and ready to be dispersed, so make sure you grab a stack on the way out. They are by the exit. And the sign-up sheets will be in next Monday. On to judges. Peggy, you have three minutes. Starting,” Harper looked at her watch, “now.”

“This is what happens every time the Coat Crusader hits town,” Emerson grumbled, shoving a strawberry in her mouth.

Peggy stood, smoothing down her polyester slacks. “First we have our very own superstar vet, Dr. Huntington, who was more than happy to offer his services.” A few hoots and whistles went out for the handsome silver fox, whose way with animals—and women—had become the topic of many a Sunday tea at Paws and Claws. “I told him we would put a coupon for a discounted consultation or vaccine appointment on the back of each application for his services.”

What a great idea, Shay thought. Not only would it encourage people to be proactive with their pets’ health, but Dr. Huntington could help spread the word about the charity walk to his patients.

“Will it have his home number as well, for other services?” Ida wanted to know. “Because if I told the ladies in my canasta group that he was giving out his digits to anyone who entered, I bet they would all borrow a pet and sign up.”

“I’ll ask,” Peggy said as if that was a legit suggestion. She perched her reading glasses higher on her nose and read her agenda. “I also have that TV pet psychic lined up.”

Shay’s mouth dropped. “You got Sonya Fitzpatrick?”

“Who the hell is Sonya Fitzpatrick?” Emerson asked around bits of red chunks, seeds, and chocolate.

“The lady on Animal Planet who talks to animals,” Shay explained. Holy cow. Sonya Fitzpatrick was going to be here in St. Helena, at her charity walk?

“Oh, no, dear,” Peggy said, taking her glasses off to hang on the studded chain around her neck. “I was talking about June Whitney. She has a channel on YouTube about how to make crocheted oven mitts and costumes.”

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