Baby, Hold On - By Stephanie Bond Page 0,1

Chaz had become attached to the toy, which made Lacey’s heart brim.

Her customers all had individual personalities, like people. Chaz, for example, was the friendliest dog she’d ever met. She allowed him to sniff and wander, laughing at his exuberant curiosity. When he spotted Nigel, a dark-faced pug, a few yards away, he dropped his toy, gave a happy yap and strained against his leash.

Lacey picked up the toy, then smiled at Nigel’s owner, Rachel Hutchins, and squashed the feelings of inadequacy that pinged her when she came face-to-face with the towering, voluptuous blonde. Lacey was pretty comfortable in her own freckled skin and her own pale hair, but standing next to Rachel, she felt preadolescent and gauche with her unremarkable figure and untamable curls. And it was impossible to dislike the woman because not only were Rachel’s curves generous, but she had a big brain, too.

Two years ago she’d spearheaded the trip taken by the group of women from Broadway, Michigan, who had answered the Armstrong brothers’ ad for single females with a pioneering spirit looking for a fresh start. The women had arrived when the town was little more than a road and a boardinghouse. Sure, the Armstrong brothers were the town elders, so to speak, but many credited Rachel for driving the town’s progress forward, especially when it came to quality-of-life issues. Rightfully so, Rachel had positioned herself to become the first mayor of Sweetness, and Lacey couldn’t imagine anyone running against her.

The woman was a force of nature.

“Hi, Lacey,” Rachel said cheerfully. “How’s business?”

“Great,” Lacey said. “In fact, I’ve hired Betsy Hahn to help on weekends.” She’d been saving to buy a hydraulic grooming table, but decided the money would be better spent on an extra employee, which hopefully would allow her to book more revenue in the long run.

“That’s good news,” Rachel said, “although I’m not surprised. People are talking, you know.”

Lacey arched an eyebrow. “About?”

“About the way you have with dogs.” She nodded to Chaz, who was enthusiastically licking a less enthusiastic Nigel. “Emily says he was downright mean before she brought him to you to groom.”

Lacey gave a little laugh. “Chaz wasn’t mean—a little cranky, maybe, but that’s typical for an older dog.”

Rachel looked down and cringed. Chaz was licking her toes as if they were candy. “His disposition seems to have improved.”

“Sorry,” Lacey said, steering the terrier away from Rachel’s tasty toes. “We’re on our way to Dr. Greenwood for an S-H-O-T.”

Chaz looked up and whined.

Rachel squinted, looking back and forth between Lacey and the dog. “Good luck with that. I’ll see you tomorrow for Nigel’s spa day.”

“See you then.” Lacey held out Chaz’s toy, which he happily took in his mouth, then she urged him forward.

When she’d first visited Sweetness, she’d fallen in love with the little town, though she’d had concerns it might not be able to support a dog grooming business. But when she’d spied the sign for Dr. Greenwood’s veterinary practice, she’d seen it as a good indication the pet population was growing. Doctor Greenwood had assured her the town needed her services and his news that a military dog training facility was under construction cinched her decision. As a New Yorker who’d witnessed the aftermath of 9/11, she had immense respect for service animals, especially rescue dogs and war dogs.

Judging from the number of flowers left regularly at the grave of Silky, a war dog buried in a hilltop cemetery outside of town, so did all the residents of Sweetness.

As she and Chaz made their way down the sidewalk, she greeted familiar faces and unfamiliar faces alike—everyone was friendly…it came from living in a place of one’s choosing, she supposed. Her eye traveled to the white water tower perched on a ridge above the town. It was the only original structure, and she found its presence comforting…and romantic. The Armstrong brothers themselves had used it as a canvas to graffiti messages of love to the women they’d dedicated themselves to.

Lacey sighed, wondering how it would feel to have a man so head over heels for her that he would make a public spectacle of himself.

A group of burly men emerged from the diner and headed her way. The men touched the bills of their hats and made room to let her and Chaz pass—she was still getting accustomed to Southern men’s manners. A couple of them flitted admiring glances over her bare legs and offered flirtatious smiles.

Lacey blushed. There was no shortage of men in Sweetness, to