Rescue My Heart: Manhattan Dinner Club series, #1

By Jean Joachim

OVERFLOWING WITH PASSION and suspense, this mouthwatering romance by a master storyteller starts with a bang -- literally. Rory Sampson, dog walker and aspiring writer, is mowed down in Central Park by an oblivious hunk on his bike -- Hack Roberts.  Smug, hostile and holier-than-thou, he tries to pin the blame on Rory. But a Judge delivers an unorthodox sentence, angering both parties.

Seeking revenge, Hack finds himself too vulnerable to Rory's voluptuous charms – despite having a fiancée. Wary after a break-up, she protects her wounded heart with a barrage of sarcastic come-backs as they each struggle to squelch the sizzling chemistry that threatens to turn their lives upside down.

Will loneliness and frustration force her to settle for the hot and heavy attentions of her ex, Mr. Not Quite Right? Confused, and tormented by desire, Rory seeks the comfort and advice of her four smart, sassy girlfriends, The Monday Night Dinner Club.

With more ups and downs than a Six Flags Coaster, RESCUE MY HEART is the first in the Monday Night Dinner Club Series.   

  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Moonlight Books
• Release date: Jan 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781626228139

Book preview

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

A Moonlight Books Novel

Rescue My Heart

SECOND EDITION

Editor: J. K. Cohen

Copyright © 2014 Jean C. Joachim

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Proofread by Renee Waring

All cover art and logo copyright © 2020 by Moonlight Books

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Moonlight Books

Dedication

For pugs in need and the wonderful people who save them.

Acknowledgment

Thank you to my readers, friends, and family who support me and inspire me to write. And to the member of the Precious Pug Rescue  & Adoption.

RESCUE MY HEART

Second Edition

JEAN C. JOACHIM

Chapter One

IT CAME AT HER SUDDENLY, out of nowhere. Rory Sampson leapt out of the way of the speeding bike and tumbled onto the grass, yanking her pug, Baxter, with her. The dog flew into her belly, knocking the wind out of her. When she could breathe again, she shook her fist after the careless biker.

Can’t you read? It says ‘no bike riding on the paths’! she screamed. Too late—the oblivious offender pedaled along the path north. A few people looked after the man.

Is your dog all right? An older woman in sweats stopped for a moment.

Rory brushed herself off. I think so. No thanks to the idiot. Baxter shook his head once, then joined Rory. Damn selfish bike people, she muttered as she and her pug made their way to the Great Lawn in Central Park. Temporarily thrown off her game, she lost sight of the beauty of the sunny spring. Since it was before nine o’clock, Rory unhooked the leash and let Baxter run free. He trotted ahead, glancing back from time-to-time to keep an eye on her.

Sure, there were grass stains on her butt ruining her favorite shorts, she huffed. Glancing down, she spied a few small stones embedded in her thigh. A sharp pain shot through her flesh as she pried the pebbles loose.

These were new. Now they’re ruined, she mumbled, brushing dirt off her behind. No worse for the encounter, Baxter returned to her side, keeping pace with her stride. The other strollers ignored Rory’s almost-accident, continuing on their way. Irked by the lack of support from fellow New Yorkers against the reckless biker, her mood soured.

Unexpectedly, a shirtless young man in running shorts came abreast of her.

I saw the asshat almost run you down. I got a picture of him.

Rory turned her head. Dazzled by the sweaty, half-naked body in front of her, she could barely speak. Uh, thanks.

Are you all right?

Bruised, but okay.

Give me your email address, and I’ll send it to you.

How sweet, thank you. I’m Rory, by the way.

Carter. They shook hands and exchanged emails.

Dark hair, light eyes, and bare shoulders as wide as the park stood right in front of her. Stop drooling. She wanted to reach out and touch his well-muscled chest but held back. Be faithful to Bruce.

As she was about to maneuver their desultory conversation into flirting, a gorgeous, half-dressed blond guy ran up beside Carter. Did you tell her? he asked.

I did. Got her email.

What a pig.

Thinks he owns the park. Bikers here are all oblivious, Rory said.

Amen.

This is Benton, my partner, Carter said.

Crap! They’re gay. Rory shook his hand, hiding her disappointment behind a friendly grin. Baxter barked.

Nice dog, Carter called then took off, running in perfect stride with Benton.

She sighed and ambled along, pushing thoughts about her relationship with her boyfriend from her mind. It’s a beautiful day. She kept her eyes peeled for her park friends. They were friendly acquaintances and fellow bike haters. She couldn’t wait to tell them what had happened. Halfway around, she still hadn’t seen any of her usual gang, so she headed for Pug Hill, the spot where pug owners congregated, letting their dogs run loose, even though it was illegal.

We might as well find some of your friends, Rory addressed her dog as she steered him toward the east side of the park. Her favorite sign of warm weather had to be male runners without shirts. As another well-built one sprinted by. Her gaze swept his body. But I have Bruce, don’t I? Did she? She frowned until a cluster of daffodils pushing toward the sun appeared.

Raising her gaze, she saw a familiar sight—the fawn and black of pugs whizzing by, running free. Baxter sniffed the air and whined. Rory unsnapped his leash. The little pug raced toward the others. Within seconds he dodged, ran, and played with his buddies. Rory jogged to catch up.

A group of three fawn-colored dogs chased one another. The leader spread his back legs and sped along wide circles. Baxter woofed once then joined in the chase. Watching Baxter romp and stomp, Rory grinned. Cute and funny pug antics made her laugh and lifted her spirits.

There were several men and woman making a lazy circle, watching the animals and chatting. Each canine displayed a distinct personality as he or she jockeyed for attention. One especially small female pooch displayed moxie by strutting up to one of the males and gently slapping her paw on his head.

Dumpling! A buxom blonde woman approached the playful pug. The male stretched his front legs, easing back into play position. Before the woman could snatch up her little one, the two dogs were off and running. Dumpling was agile and dodged the larger male until he finally caught up with her. One nudge and she rolled over, came up panting, and charged again.

The blonde bit her lip. Aren’t you Bess, from TV? Rory moved away from Baxter.

She nodded, never taking her eyes off Dumpling.

Rory introduced herself. Bess nodded, but still kept her gaze on her pug.

She’ll be fine. She can handle the guy, Rory said.

You think so? She’s so tiny.

Maybe, but she’s got guts.

Someday a bigger dog is going to put her in her place. Bess chewed her nail.

The two women exchanged facts about their dogs. Baxter was a rescue. Dumpling was handed down to Bess from her aunt. Rory crossed her legs and sank down on the soft, thick grass. Baxter plopped down next to her, panting.

Would he like some water? Bess asked. She plucked a plastic container and filled it from a water bottle from her small, pink backpack. Baxter lapped it up eagerly. Dumpling returned to have a drink as well. Baxter sniffed the little pug.

Rory watched a woman throw a ball for her pug, but another intercepted it, starting a game of keep-away. The first two were joined by two more dogs, and the four tore around in circles, vying for the toy. Two brunettes ran after them. The wily pugs eluded them at every turn. Finally, the women gave up and lowered themselves to the ground to catch their breath.

A ball is Baxter’s favorite toy, too. Rory plucked a blade of grass.

Romeo and Juliet too. I’m Miranda. The woman extended her hand. Rory introduced herself.

"Freddy’s got the Cuz, and he’s not giving it up. I must have a treat in here. I’m Brooke," the second woman said, rummaging through her purse. It wasn’t long before Freddy had five pugs chasing him, including his sister Ginger.

Brooke mooched a treat from a man with a black pug and lured Freddy into giving up the toy.

Fred and Ginger? Rory chuckled.

Yep. My grandmother’s favorite movie stars.

And yours are Romeo and Juliet?

I’m seriously into Shakespeare, Miranda responded. Where did you get Baxter from?

The rescue named him.

As the women chatted, they didn’t notice the other dog owners slowly drifting away. A policeman approached. He tapped Rory on the shoulder. When she turned around, the smile fell off her face.

Miss, is this your dog?

Baxter? Yes, he’s mine. She bent over to quickly click the leash onto his harness. The other women followed suit. The officer’s dark brown eyes bored into hers. He whipped out a ticket book from his back pocket. You know he’s supposed to be on leash, don’t you?

What time is it? She glanced at her watch. Crap! Nine-fifteen.

He was supposed to be leashed fifteen minutes ago. The cop took a pen from behind his ear.

Oh, please, officer. I lost track of the time. I’m so sorry. I can’t afford a two-hundred-dollar ticket. Her heart thumped so loud she thought he could hear it.

Bess stepped out from behind Rory. What’s the trouble? She blinked her big blue eyes at the man.

A slow smile crept across his face. "Say, aren’t you...Bess...from Baking with Bess on TV?" He put the pen back.

I am. And you are?

Terrence McNeil.

Nice to meet you. She glanced up, into his eyes. Are you six-foot three?

No, ma’am, only six-foot-one. He smiled.

Bess shot him a flirtatious glance. You’re the tallest officer I’ve ever seen.

I’ve watched your show. You’re an amazing cook. He took a step closer.

Thank you. What’s your favorite dessert?

Rory watched Bess inch nearer to the officer, weaving her magic around him. She studied the baker’s body language and facial expressions. I think I’m in the presence of a professional flirt. Maybe I can learn something.

Your apple pie made me drool. He blushed.

Apple pie? It’s so easy to make.

My ex couldn’t bake to save her life. You make it look easy.

What a shame! I’d love to bake a pie for you.

Really? He returned the ticket book to his back pocket and gave Bess the once-over.

Sure would. I’m trying a new recipe for a chicken dish. I could easily tack on apple pie for dessert. Would you be my guinea pig?

Rory saw the man swallow. Is he drooling over the food or her? She stifled a grin.

Me? His eyes widened.

Uh huh, I’m making it tonight. I hope it’ll be good enough for the show. And if you join me, I’ll do a pie.

Maybe she’ll be the dessert. Rory stood motionless, watching Bess wind the policeman around her little finger.

A chance to taste your cooking? Are you kidding? I’d love to. His gaze swept over her ample curves, clothed in a snug T-shirt and tight jeans, stopping to rest briefly on her cleavage.

Fine. It’s a date, then.

Like a beautiful spider, Bess wove a web of charm around the officer. Rory had to admit—with his dark brown hair, broad shoulders, and trim waist—he was hot.

Her new friend’s blue eyes sparkled. Rory couldn’t tell if Bess wanted to date the officer or was flirting only to get them out of tickets. Rory didn’t care. She relaxed her body as she watched Bess work.

You’re serious? he asked.

Absolutely. Seven o’clock. The Wellington on Central Park West. You know it?

Yes, ma’am...I mean, miss...

Cooper. Bess Cooper. Apartment fifteen G. Bess stuck out her hand. McNeil shook it and held it between his two while their eyes locked.

I look forward to it, Miss Cooper.

She smiled a dazzling smile. Bess.

Bess, then. He tipped his hat and turned to leave, stopping for a quick word with the other women. You ladies are lucky. Today, you get away with a warning. Next time, it’ll be tickets all around. They watched him walk away.

Cute butt, Bess commented behind her hand.

You’re really Bess Cooper? Brooke asked.

I am.

I’m impressed. I love your show. Brooke snapped the lead on her two pugs.

I’m going to have breakfast outside at The Boathouse with Baxter. Wanna come?

You can bring Baxter?

The restaurant is outside.

I’m in.

Me, too.

We’re coming.

The women and their dogs trudged up the hill toward the restaurant.

Standing on line to place their orders, Brooke spoke. Quick thinking, Bess.

Thank God. I owe you one, Miranda said. I don’t have two hundred bucks lying around.

Being a minor celebrity comes in handy. He was awfully cute, don’t you think?

Definitely a hottie. Miranda nodded.

You’re interested in him? Not only trying to get us out of tickets? Rory cocked an eyebrow.

I am. I love a man in uniform. Bess sighed, batting her eyelashes. He’s hot. Seems nice.

Sounds like a win/win to me, Miranda said.

Rory was the first to get food. She and Baxter secured a table for four. When the others joined her, the pugs sniffed each other and searched for a comfortable place to sit.

Chatting stopped. They tucked into bacon and eggs, scones and coffee. Each woman shared a bit of her food with the dogs. After, they ambled toward the 77th Street park exit. The pugs trotted along, tongues lolling, noses to the ground.

As they said goodbye, Bess raised her hand. Wait! Don’t go. What are y’all doing on Monday?

What did you have in mind?

Monday, we do a run-through before the taping on Thursday. There’s always tons of food leftover.

Don’t you give it away?

We give away what’s left from the show. But the rehearsal food always goes begging. I’ll bring it home, if you guys come to dinner. How about it?

I hate to leave Baxter home alone.

Bring the pugs.

Fabulous. I’m coming. Miranda nodded.

I’ll bring wine, Brooke said.

Great. Come at six.

We’ll want to know all about your date with Officer MacNeil, Miranda said.

RORY, THE FIRST TO arrive, stopped at the entrance to The Wellington and gave Bess’s name. The doorman waved them through. When the elevator door opened, Rory found Bess at her open door. Rory unleashed Baxter who, not waiting for an invitation, raced into the apartment.

Once inside, Rory’s mouth fell open. The foyer had a white marble floor and walls. The ceiling was an ornate pattern reminiscent of earlier days.

This way, Bess said.

They wandered into a spacious living room with four windows facing Central Park. A warm cream color on the walls highlighted a rose corduroy sofa and loveseat. The perfectly polished oak floor framed an oblong Oriental rug with a pattern in pink, beige, and white.

To the left was a mammoth kitchen with gleaming copper pots and utensils hanging from a black metal circle over a granite-topped island. There was a professional stove with six burners and an enormous refrigerator/freezer combination. Next to a dishwasher stood two deep sinks. The kitchen walls were a light coral with natural wood cabinets. Brown and black granite counter tops, plus stainless-steel appliances, completed the picture.

There were cabinets and drawers of all shapes and sizes, Rory didn’t doubt Bess owned every cooking utensil known to man. She marveled at the room, almost as big as her entire apartment.

Let me show you around, Bess said.

While Dumpling and Baxter sniffed each other, Bess led Rory through the living room to the other wing.

Here are the bedrooms. The first one was a feminine fairyland. The walls sported lilac paisley print wallpaper on the top half and, separated by a chair railing, a matching color graced the lower part. A queen-sized, white-eyelet canopied bed dominated.

How do you keep this clean with the filthy air coming in our windows and a dog in the house? Rory’s eyes widened.

Bess colored a little. Maid service. She led Rory to the second bathroom and the den. The apartment belongs to my aunt, Delia. But she’s let me live here for a couple of years while she’s in Connecticut. I keep this for TV and as her room when she visits.

Does she come often?

Not often enough. She’s my favorite. The room had a rich, milk chocolate brown suede sofa bed, white walls, a cow skin rug, and chrome and glass tables. A large screen television hung on one wall and original, modern oil paintings on the others. Coral, pink, and white throw pillows brightened the room.

Rory recognized Baxter’s bark. Bet he doesn’t know where I am. She smiled, trying to find her way through the maze of rooms. When she emerged from the hallway,