That Night on Thistle Lane by Carla Neggers

down under the table, his big black-and-brown head on Noah’s feet. “What’s his name again?”
    “Buster,” Olivia said, placing the tray on the table. “He adopted me when I first moved back here.”
    Dylan followed her onto the terrace, carrying two glasses of iced tea. He set one in front of Noah. “Maybe you should get a dog, Noah.”
    He eased his foot out from under the dog’s head. “Does Buster have a brother?”
    “I hope not,” Dylan said with a mock shudder.
    Olivia grinned at him. “I thought you and Buster had bonded.”
    “We have, but one Buster is enough.” He winked at her as he handed her the second glass of tea and sat across from Noah. “All the world needs.”
    Buster gave a deep, satisfied sigh from under the table. The dog was visibly calmer than when Noah had met him in April. A few months in Olivia’s care no doubt had helped. Buster had clearly endeared himself to Dylan, despite an inauspicious meeting.
    Now here they all were—Olivia Frost, Dylan McCaffrey and Buster.
    Noah smiled at what a great family they made. He’d never seen Dylan happier, and Olivia was fast becoming a friend herself. Noah helped himself to a chicken salad sandwich. It had some kind of herb in it. Fresh tarragon, he thought. If his princess was in Knights Bridge, was she into herbs, too?
    “Who’ll be minding Buster while you two are in San Diego?” he asked casually.
    “Maggie will be in every day,” Olivia said. “She and I are basically business partners. We’re thinking about doing the paperwork to make it official. We work so well together.”
    “And she lives in Knights Bridge and likes herbs,” Noah said.
    “She also likes her mother’s goats,” Dylan added, his tone neutral. As he’d explained to Noah, the bonds between the people of Knights Bridge were sometimes tricky to navigate. The Frosts had been in the Swift River Valley and surrounding hills for generations. Despite Dylan’s newly discovered roots in the region, he was still an outsider.
    “Maggie loves herbs and goat’s milk,” Olivia said with a laugh. “I don’t know that much about goats, but the milk is perfect for the artisan soaps Maggie and I are making.”
    Noah tried to keep any reaction to himself as it sank in that he was talking goats and soap at a two-hundred-year-old house on a dead-end road, surrounded by meadows, shade trees, green grass and a lot of flowers and herbs. It was a first.
    The goats, he’d learned, belonged to Maggie’s widowed mother and were a source of both tension and enjoyment within the O’Dunn family.
    Obviously in a happy mood, Olivia sat between him and Dylan. “I’ll give you some samples of our goat’s milk soap. We’re still tinkering before we test-market it here. Maggie’s on top of all the regulations.”
    “Complicated?”
    “Not too bad unless we make actual medicinal claims.”
    “Which you won’t?”
    She shook her head. Noah saw that his interest surprised her, but she was the love of his best friend’s life and he wanted to know about her and what she enjoyed. With Carriage Hill getting off the ground and the betrayal of her friend over stealing a client behind her, Olivia’s natural optimism had clearly returned.
    Falling in love didn’t hurt, either.
    Noah thought of his princess. He could feel the curve of her hip, see the warmth in her eyes, the soft swell of her creamy breasts. Why had he left her? Why hadn’t he let the mystery man come to him?
    Because he hadn’t wanted his life in San Diego—who he really was—to intrude on the moment. The fantasy they both were enjoying.
    Either that, or he hadn’t known what the hell he was thinking.
    He wasn’t thinking she’d disappear, that was for sure.
    “Noah?” Dylan asked with a frown.
    He sighed. “Mind drifting. Thinking about hiking in the mountains, then playing a swashbuckler at a ball—I’ve got mental whiplash.”
    “Not a chance,” his friend said without hesitation. “You never have