Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

“Mr. Porter, please,” Thea said on a groan.

“Now, I’m sorry to burn the ears of a lady, but I can’t keep quiet about a grave injustice,” the old man said, and Daniel grinned at the singular use of lady. “I hope you don’t mind, but your dear old momma told me all about your marital troubles, and it made me just about as mad as a donkey chewing on bumblebees. And, honey, if a man is going to commit the crime, he needs to do the time.”

“If you’ll just let me explain,” Weatherman said.

Vigil gave him the stinky side-eye. “If excuses were gooses, we’d all have a happy Thanksgiving. You remember that.”

Weatherman was a fool. He’d chosen Charity over Thea. A rotten apple over a lush orange. His mistake. My gain.

Thea blinked up at Daniel. “This is really happening?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you stop calling me ma’am?”

“No, ma’am. I have manners. My daddy raised me right.”

Virgil beamed at him.

“Um...our room key, please?” Charity looked like a convict intent on escape.

Weatherman cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders and picked up his conversation with Virgil. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Virgil wasn’t interested in excuses. “I think you mean the pecker wanted what the pecker wanted.”

“Dad, I love you.” Daniel claimed the dog leashes and kissed Thea’s gorgeous mouth right there in front of everyone. Kissed her hard, staking a very clear claim. By the time he lifted his head, she was just the way he liked her: breathless and weak in the knees, her frown gone. “I’m gonna miss you. You gonna miss me?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

He grinned at her before turning to Virgil. “Come on, Dad. Let’s get you to Anthony’s before my girlfriend decides I’m not worth the hassle.” Weatherman wouldn’t do anything untoward in front of his coworkers.

Daniel met Thea’s widening gaze; her shamrock eyes were bright. “Call me if you need me for anything. I mean it. Otherwise I’ll see you on our run because, yes, the dogs and I are going with you. Also, you owe me a glass of golden milk, and I will collect. With interest.”

*

DOROTHEA COULD ONLY NOD, caught up in the whirlwind that was Daniel Porter. Was this what life as his girlfriend was going to be like? Every morning she would be trapped in a tumult of sensation, emotion, surprise and longing?

Well, sign her up for an eternity.

“Golden milk,” she said. “Check. I’ll make it after our run.” She’d never had a jogging partner, but she’d always wanted one. “Our run. The one we’ll be doing together.”

“If the ex bothers you, let me know and I’ll take care of it,” Daniel added, and he wasn’t exactly quiet about it. He kissed her again, quickly this time, before taking off with his dad and the dogs.

Her hand fluttered to her chest. What a man.

Jazz turned his glare on her, and Charity offered her a bright smile, this one genuine.

Just think of the money they’re going to pay you.

Four guests for four nights at double her usual rate—because why not?

She put everyone on the second floor and passed out keys. “For breakfast, coffee and muffins are free of charge. If you want something more substantial, call room service or visit the dining room to place an order.” Now that Carol had returned, the inn could offer hot meals rather than just snacks. “The kitchen is open for lunch and dinner, as well.”

“Please, Dorothea,” Jazz said. “Talk to me. I have so much to tell you.”

Anger flickered in Charity’s irises, the edges made ragged by...fear? She was scared of losing him, wasn’t she?

Ugh. Why would she want to keep him?

“Jazz!” Holly’s voice rang out.

Cheering up, Jazz turned. “Holly!”

Her sister ran to her ex and threw herself into his arms. He twirled her around.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Holly said.

“I’ve missed you, too, squirt.”

Seeing them, Dorothea’s heart hurt. When she’d first returned to town, she’d longed for this kind of welcoming reception from her sister. What she’d gotten instead? A bubble pop in her face and a snarled “And I didn’t think my life could suck worse.”

“Are you staying here?” Holly asked Jazz, ignoring everyone else.

“I sure am.” He dangled his key in front of her. “Four nights.”

She clapped like the happy child she used to be. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

There went the progress they’d made, Dorothea thought with a sigh.

Jazz tossed her a do-you-see-how-good-we-can-be-together look over his shoulder. One Dorothea disregarded. He was part of a past she never wanted to revisit. But, no lie, it had felt good, really good, to show her ex how amazing her life had turned out without him. Sure, she hadn’t lived all of her dreams, but she was happy, and dang if she couldn’t make new dreams.

Unlike the crewmen, Charity didn’t follow the pair. She reached over the counter to take Dorothea’s hand. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things happened. I never meant for you... But I loved... I’m sorry,” she finished lamely. “And I’d like us to be friends, Dorothea.”

Uh, what now?

“I admit I was worried when Jazz pitched your hometown to the network,” she continued. “I thought you’d try to steal him away from me, but I can see you have your own man now.”

Was this girl for real? She thought Dorothea had her own man now. Now. As if she hadn’t before. Where was Charity’s moral compass?

“I’ll be honest,” Dorothea said, extracting her hand “I don’t ever see us becoming friends.”

Delicate shoulders wilted yet again. “Yeah. I thought you might say that. I didn’t mean to insult you or your inn. I was just... I want Jazz to fall in love with me again. He broke up with me, you know? For no reason! I did nothing wrong. I cater to his every whim. I thought maybe if I made him see he doesn’t belong here, he’d—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” And yet she almost asked why Charity wanted to keep a man slimy enough to have an affair, even if the affair had been with her.

“Of course not,” Charity said. “I understand. But I really would—”

Dorothea didn’t wait for her to finish. She walked around the counter and out of the building, leaving Charity in the lobby. Shake it off. She jogged in place for a moment, warming up, breathing in and out with purpose. The sun was shining, a beautiful roll cloud consuming the sky. Birds were chirping.

Her mother was currently pruning the rosebushes in front of the inn, where a plot of grass separated sidewalk from street. “The guests need a pretty view,” she liked to say. The buds were starting to bloom and scent the air.

“Morning, my dear,” Carol said. A hat shielded her face from the sun’s glare.