Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay, Babette Jongh [book club books txt] 📗

sliding glass door of the pool house, and Wolf could fit—just barely—through the dog door to Reva’s house, so he could go where he pleased. No one ever chased him away anymore, and in fact, everyone in both houses told him often that they loved him, and that he was welcome to stay. It had been a long journey from fear to trust, and he knew he still had some work to do to fully understand with his mind what he already knew in his heart to be true.

He had everything a dog could want now: the safety and security of being welcomed into not just one family but two, and the freedom to go where he would within those boundaries drawn by love. He had a large extended family that loved and accepted him, including the heart of that family, a funny little dog who loved him beyond measure, even though she wouldn’t always share the tennis ball. It didn’t matter which bed, or even which house he decided to sleep in. He had time to decide. He had time to truly learn what Georgia had been trying to tell him all along.

He belonged.

He could stay.

If you’ve fallen in love with the Welcome to Magnolia Bay series, read on for a sneak peek at book two:

Magnolia Bay Memories

Available November 2021 from Sourcebooks Casablanca

Adrian Crawford parked his new Lexus LC 500 convertible at the loneliest corner of the new animal shelter’s gravel parking lot, far from the handful of other vehicles, and even farther from the centuries-old oaks that draped their scaly, fern-covered branches over the new chain-link fence.

The construction/renovation of the shelter had progressed significantly since his last visit a week ago. The old craftsman-style home’s exterior facelift was complete. Quinn Lockhart, Adrian’s old college buddy and the contractor in charge of the project, had already put up the new sign by the entrance. The sign, hand-made with carved lettering painted bluebird-blue on a butter-yellow background, matched the new paint and trim on the old house.

A bit bright for his taste, but as a business consultant working pro-bono for the non-profit shelter, it wasn’t his place to argue with the three women in charge of this project. And Quinn was so crazy-in-love with the trio’s leader, Abby Curtis, that he probably wasn’t thinking straight.

“Furrever Love,” Adrian scoffed. “What kind of name is that for a business?” The unfortunately cutesy name the women had chosen for the shelter arched across the top of the sign in a curlicue font they had agonized over for hours. Beneath that, in more sedate lettering: MAGNOLIA BAY ANIMAL SHELTER.

Adrian pushed the button to close the car’s top. He left the windows open a few inches to keep the car’s interior from baking in the Louisiana summer sun, then exited the car, pointing the key fob to lock the car with a quiet but satisfying blip-blip.

“Gang’s all here.” Quinn’s truck was parked by the outdoor dog runs, where the sound of heavy machinery droned. Reva—the organizing force behind the shelter even though her niece, Abby, was officially in charge—lived at the farm next door. Abby and Quinn were living on-site in the old estate’s pool house until the shelter’s grand opening, so unless Quinn was making a hardware store run, they were always here.

“Well, almost all here.” Heather’s car, he noticed as he walked toward the house, was conspicuously absent.

Typical. Heather Gabriel was just about always late. Adrian couldn’t help but wonder why Abby and Reva thought they could trust her to be in charge of the day-to-day operations when she couldn’t even make it to their weekly 4:00 p.m. meetings on time.

Reva’s dog, Georgia, trotted across the parking lot, coming toward him with a proprietary air. She was a funny-looking combo of dog breeds—a short, long dog with a thick speckled coat of many colors and a white-tipped tail that curved over her back. Her brown eyespots drew together in a concerned frown as she sniffed his jeans and then the treads of his new Lowa hiking boots. When she had completed her inspection, she looked up at him with a “State your business and I’ll decide if you can come in” attitude.

He bent to pet Georgia’s head. “I’m here to brainstorm with the team about another grant proposal for funding, if you must know.”

Then he scoffed at himself. Quinn, Abby, Reva, and Heather all talked to animals like they were human. Now he was doing it, too. “Assimilation is nearly complete,” he told Georgia in his best imitation of The Borg.

Georgia stiffened and growled at something behind Adrian. He turned and looked, then bolted to his feet. The scruffy old black-and-white tomcat who’d been hanging around the area was walking tightrope-style along the top of the chain link fence near Adrian’s car. “Don’t you do it…”

He could tell by the direction of the cat’s gaze that he was about to jump from the fence to the hood of Adrian’s brand-new, never-been-scratched car. “No!” He started running, but the cat was already gathering itself for the leap. “Bad cat!”

Too late.

Georgia took off like an avenging army of one, galvanized into action and ready to tell the cat what-for, announcing her intention with a high-pitched, yodeling bark.

The cat was already in mid-leap with front paws extended, body stretched out, back toes spread, when he spotted the dog barreling toward him. Eyes wide, mouth frozen in a grimace of fear, the cat twisted in midair to go back the way he’d come. Too late.

His spine hit the hood of Adrian’s car with a loud thwump, then his body twirled like a corkscrew, all claws extended as he scrambled to get his balance.

“No…” Adrian ran, but Georgia ran faster. She leaped up, scrabbling at the side of the car in an impossible effort to reach the cat. Never gonna happen; Georgia wasn’t even knee-high. But she didn’t know it, the cat didn’t know it, and none of that mattered to the previously shiny,