Page 13 of Wild Dreams

Marigold looked up at me, shielding the sun with her hand. "I love puppies. I've always wanted one."

My brow furrowed. "You're a natural with Oakley. Why don't you adopt him for yourself?"

She chewed on her lip. "I always pictured myself settled before I got a dog."

"What's your definition of settled?" I'd known Marigold her entire life, but I didn't know her wants and desires, her dreams and goals.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and I wondered if it was the intensity of the sun or my question. "I thought I'd be married or at least in a serious relationship."

"You want to get married." My heart sunk even though it made sense. Marigold was the forever kind of girl.

"And have kids."

"You want the white picket fence." It was so obvious. I shouldn't have been surprised, but it actually hurt to hear her say that. This wasn't the kind of girl I'd offer a casual relationship. She was the kind of woman you dated and took home to your parents. It was too bad my life wasn't conducive to that kind of lifestyle.

I'd only just started seeing the real Marigold, as someone separate from my sister. She was gorgeous and selfless. She tipped her head to the side, and I could envision coming home to her at the end of a long shift. Maybe we'd cook dinner together, then discuss what we'd read over our meal. Then we'd walk the dog. I'd never imagined a life like that for me.

I'd always shut any thoughts of that down and broke off any relationships when the woman wanted something more. This was my wake-up call. Marigold wasn't for me.

Marigold squinted up at me. "I suppose I do."

"And you want it soon," I said, carefully remembering what she'd told me that night she was at Eli's club. She wanted to get married and have a family.

"I'm ready for it. I want what Eli and Scarlett have."

"They look happy." So why did I feel something shift in my chest any time I thought about them together? "Who would have thought that Scarlett would have settled down first?"

Marigold laughed as if we shared a secret. "Right?"

"Are they why you're motivated to find someone now?"

"I've always wanted to be in a committed relationship, but yeah, seeing them together has lit a spark inside me. I need to get out there again. Do you know anyone who is single?"

I cleared my throat, images of the Wilde brothers and my deputies coming into focus. "Not anyone who'd be right for you."

Marigold winced. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"None of them are looking for anything serious."

Marigold nodded. "I should probably be dating someone older. Someone who's ready to settle down."

My throat tightened, and a little boy approached. "Can I pet Oakley?"

"Of course," Marigold smiled brightly, and I wanted to do anything to keep that expression on her face.

She was beautiful, especially when she was talking about something she was passionate about: her books, dogs, and the future she wanted. I wished I could be the guy to give it to her. When the boy rejoined his parents, I squatted down and let Oakley sniff my fingers. When he nudged my hand, I petted his head. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

His fur was fluffy and soft. "He's all fur, isn't he?"

Marigold laughed. "He sure is. He's tiny when he's wet."

When I stood, she scooped him up, holding him against her chest. I was a little jealous of that dog. He was the object of her free affection. "I'll see you around, Mari."

Her eyes flashed with surprise at the nickname. We'd called her that when we were little, but when her and Scarlett were thirteen, they'd announced that she was Marigold, and I'd respected her wishes. When I called her Mari, it made me feel like we had a special bond.

"See you later, Chance."

As I walked, nodding at people calling out greetings, I wondered how old of a man she was considering. Was she talking about someone just a few years older than her, like me,or someone even older? A single dad with a child? There couldn't be any shortage of those in the children's section of the library. What if I wasn't the only one who saw Marigold for who she was? It was just a matter of time before someone else saw what a catch she was.

---