The Puppy Problem

by Katie Meyer

  “Like a package?” She was pretty sure all the gifts she’d ordered online had arrived, but it could be something from her parents.

  “No. Like a tree.”

  “A what?” Resting the gooey spoon on the edge of the bowl, she headed for the front door. Had a tree blown over onto the front porch? Or maybe the wreath she’d hung had fallen? That might look like a tree from a little boy’s perspective. Either way, her curiosity was piqued.

  Shooing Lily and Owen out of the way, she pulled the door open and found, as he’d said, a tree. Blinking, she briefly wondered if somehow she’d ordered that during one of her late-night shopping binges.

  “Principal Luke!” Owen’s joy-filled shout drew her gaze from the branches in front of her to the man behind them.

  “Hey, buddy!” Luke tousled the boy’s hair, genuine affection in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me, too!” Owen stuck his head between the branches, inspecting the tree. “Is this tree for us?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Cool. And did Miss Cassie give you my letter?”

  “I did.”

  Megan’s head swiveled in the direction of the answer, realizing for the first time that Luke wasn’t the only person standing on her porch. Cassie was there. And Kirstin. And Luke’s friend Grant. And... Mrs. Cristoff?

  “What letter are you talking about?” she asked her son. “What’s going on?”

  Immediately, everyone started talking at once. Something about a letter, and Christmas, and her attic...it all kind of ran together. Even Lily got in on the action, her excited barking adding to the cacophony.

  “Stop!” Megan held up a hand, needing to take back at least a semblance of control. “One at a time.” She pointed to Owen. “You wrote Principal Luke a letter?”

  He nodded. “Uh-huh. I wanted to tell him I was sorry we messed up his job, and that even if he couldn’t be my dad, maybe he could be my principal again.”

  Pain, sharp and full of regret, bloomed in her chest. “Oh, baby, you didn’t do anything to mess up anything.”

  “That’s right.” Luke bent and put his hand on Owen’s shoulder. “None of what happened was your fault. And I was never, ever, angry with you.” He lifted his eyes to Megan. “Or your mom.”

  Needing to look away from the intensity in his gaze, Megan turned to Cassie. “You knew about this, and didn’t say anything?”

  “He swore me to secrecy.” She grinned, not looking at all repentant. “And it wasn’t addressed to you. Tampering with the mail is a crime.”

  So much for loyalty. Although, part of her was secretly pleased that her son had good people to turn to when he needed help. Even if it wasn’t her. Still, she didn’t like being kept out of the loop. Shifting her eyes to the next person, Grant raised his hands in surrender. “I just helped with the tree. I swear.”

  Shaking her head, she narrowed in on Kirstin, who stood partially hidden behind everyone else. “And are you going to claim innocence, as well?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head, blue eyes snapping merrily. “I fully confess to being a partner in the Santa Scheme.”

  “Santa...what?”

  “See, I told you to wear the costume!” Mrs. Cristoff scolded Luke, her plastic elf ears wiggling as she talked. “Without that, it doesn’t make sense.”

  Somehow, Megan doubted that Luke in a Santa suit would have added clarity to anything. But before she could ask any more questions, Luke stepped forward.

  “Don’t be mad at them, they were just trying to help.”

  “So I should be angry at you, instead,” she asked, hands on her hips.

  “If you want. You’ve got reason enough to be. But I’m hoping you’ll let me in, and we can talk.”

  Hell. She couldn’t turn him away now, not without looking like a scrooge. “Fine.”

  She stepped aside to allow everyone to troop in, one by one, realizing that, aside from the tree, they’d also brought two big shopping bags full of food and drink. Minutes later, there were carols playing on the radio as the smell of warming cider wafted through the house.

  “Where do you want it?” Grant held the tree up in the middle of the room. “I’ve got the stand all ready, just tell me where it goes.”

  “Um, over there, in front of the window.”

  He nodded and went to work, leaving her at a bit of a loss. Owen was in the kitchen being fed and fussed over by the women. Luke was somewhere in the attic, searching for the decorations. The house was filled with the sounds and smells of Christmas, and she...she had no idea how any of it had happened. “Now what?” she asked Lily, who was proudly sporting a red-and-green Christmas collar.

  “You forgive me?”

  She spun around and came face-to-face with Luke, a dusty cardboard box in his arms. “For what, bringing me an instant Christmas?”

  He shook his head, his dark eyes as serious as she’d ever seen them. “For pushing you to go public. For not listening to you when you were worried about the fallout. And most of all...for letting you walk away. I should have gone after you. I should have fought for you, fought for us.”

  What was he saying? “But your job. You lost everything because of me. Being with me ruined your life.”

  He shook his head. “No. You and Owen—you’re my everything. You’re my life. You mean more to me than any job ever could.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  Could he? A seed of hope she’d thought long buried began to blossom. Her father’s career had always come first, and then she’d gotten married and the military came first. She’d understood, she really had, but the idea that, for this man, she might come first... The idea was dazzling. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it.

  Luke set down the box, and gently, as if afraid she might bolt if he moved to fast, took hold of her shoulders. Looking her in the eyes, he smiled. “I have never meant anything more. I’d rather be out of work and have you, than lose you forever because of my career. I love you, Megan.”

  Warmth, from his hands and his words spread over her, heating the parts of her that had grown so cold in his absence, making her bold. “I love you, too,” she echoed, the words on her tongue almost as sweet as the taste of his lips as he pulled her into a kiss.

  “Wait! We haven’t hung the mistletoe yet!” Mrs. Cristoff chided. Megan ignored her. They’d already waited too long for this. She didn’t want to waste another minute.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe tomorrow is Christmas,” Owen said, staring at the stack of presents under the tree.

  “Me, either,” Megan agreed, snuggling closer to Luke on the couch. Actually, her entire life seemed too good to believe. This past week had been a happy blur of holiday preparations by day, and lovemaking at night. Luke had even taken Owen out shopping, just the two of them.

  They were going to visit Luke’s mother tomorrow afternoon, and part of her was nervous, but she was too gloriously happy to consider it would go anything but well. The only thing that would make it better would be if her parents had come. That still stung. But Luke’s presence at her side more than made up for it. In fact, she was so content, she was half asleep when a knock at the door had her jerking upright.

  “Do you think that’s Santa?” Owen asked, jumping to his feet.

  “Pretty sure he doesn’t knock on doors, big guy,” Megan said, laughing. But her laughter died the minute she opened the door. In truth, she’d have been less shocked if it had been old St. Nick himself.

  “Mom! Dad! You came!” Megan stepped back as Owen crowded in for his hug. “But how? I thought... I mean you said...” Megan threw her hands up in confusion, too excited to string a full sentence together.

  Her mother, unfazed by the lack of proper diction, tipped her head toward the other side of the room where her father and Luke were stacking presents beside the tree.
“Luke called me, and said you and Owen needed us.” She swallowed, a look of regret cloudy in her still vibrant blue eyes. “I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but until he called, I didn’t really think of it that way. You’ve always been so independent...” Her voice cracked, and Megan couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Hey, it’s okay. What matters now is that you’re here. I still can’t believe it. How’d you even manage to find a flight at this late date?”

  “Your father called in a favor and got us on a private flight. Remember all those fundraisers and charity golf tournaments he said he had to go to, to make contacts and build relationships? Well, I told him it was time those connections were good for something other than a bigger paycheck or better promotion.”

  Megan felt her mouth drop open. “You told him that?”

  “She did.” Her father threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a gruff hug. “And let me tell you, your mother doesn’t put her foot down often, but when she does, I know better than to argue. She insisted I either find her a flight to get her to her daughter, or she’d find someone who could.”

  “Wow.”

  Her mother shrugged as if it were no big deal, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. “I’ve spent years traipsing from one end of the earth to the other. I think I’ve earned my chance to set the destination.”

  Megan looked for her father’s reaction to that statement, but instead of appearing put out, he grinned and pulled his wife in for a quick kiss. “You certainly have. And I look forward to seeing what other plans you have for us, now that I’m retiring.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. My bride and I had a long talk on the flight here, and she pointed out a few things that I should have realized on my own.” He blinked rapidly. Was that a tear in his eye? No way was her tough-as-nails father crying.

  “I’m sure you would have...eventually,” her mom interjected, lightening the suddenly emotional moment. “But rather than wait for whenever that would be, I reminded him that he’s been of great service to his country, and given that we only get so many years on this planet, he might want to spend the rest of them in service to his family.”

  “It seems I’m needed on a new assignment,” her father added with a wry grin. “A transfer, you might say. Right here to Florida.”

  “You’re going to live here, Pops?” Owen asked, his quick mind grasping what her father was saying before she’d fully absorbed the meaning of his words.

  “Yes, sir. I sent my notice of resignation as soon as we hit the ground. By the time your nana has the house packed up, I’ll be ready to go.”

  Megan tipped her head in admiration of her mother’s genius. Nothing meant more to Gregory Paine than duty. Asking him to turn his back on duty had always been futile. But in what may be a true Christmas miracle, her mom’s new tactic, replacing one mission with another, seemed to have worked.

  “What do you think, baby girl? You okay with having your parents hanging around a lot more?”

  Megan opened her mouth to say of course, but an unexpected surge of emotion had her choking back a sob instead. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she settled for nodding so hard her head felt like it might fall off.

  “Good,” he answered, pulling her into a hug. “Because I have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

  “We both do,” her mom agreed. “I know we can’t just jump in as if we’d been here all along, but I’m hoping once Owen becomes more comfortable with us you’ll let us babysit sometimes.”

  “Of course. That would be...” Megan paused as her scrambled brain searched for the right way to express her gratitude.

  “Amazing. And greatly appreciated,” Luke supplied, stepping up to join the group.

  Megan blushed, knowing exactly how Luke would want to spend the alone time they would finally now be able to have. “Right. Sorry. I’m still so shocked that you’re here. And now to find out you’re going to be moving here... It’s more than I ever expected. It’s overwhelming—but in a good way.”

  She turned to Owen, who was trying to pull his grandfather toward the backyard. “I think having you guys move here is the very best Christmas present we could get, don’t you, Owen?”

  Owen stopped and, to her surprise, slowly shook his head.

  “Well, I suppose Santa might have some pretty cool stuff in his sack, but I bet none of it is better than having Nana and Pops here,” she insisted, trying to keep the embarrassment out of her voice.

  “I know,” Owen acknowledged with an offended huff.

  Thank goodness. She hadn’t really wanted to add a talk about gratitude to her post-holiday to-do list.

  “But Mr. Wright has a better one. Don’t you?” He looked up at a suddenly flustered-looking Luke. “Tell her yours is better, isn’t it?”

  “Well, um...”

  “Owen! Whatever Mr. Wright brought for you is a secret until tomorrow.”

  “It’s fine.” Her mother smiled. “I remember what it’s like to be a kid, even if it was a hundred years ago. I would have been more excited for a new toy myself at that age.”

  “But it’s not a toy!” Her son’s shout echoed off the terrazzo floors. “And it isn’t for me. It’s for Mom!” Turning his flushed face to Luke, his body nearly vibrated with indignation. “Show her!”

  Luke, rather than looking put out by the demand, just grinned sheepishly as he squatted to whisper something in Owen’s ear. Megan couldn’t make out what he said, but from Owen’s smile she could tell Owen was about to get his way. She probably should be annoyed at being overruled, but the Christmas spirit and her son’s sheer joy made that impossible. Not only did she have Luke, but her family was here, together, for Christmas.

  “Fine, but I’ve already got my Christmas wish,” she insisted, smiling at her parents.

  “Then I guess you don’t want this?”

  Megan looked back to where Luke had been standing, and then down, to where he knelt on one knee, an open jeweler’s box in his outstretched hand.

  “Yes, she does! Don’t you, Mom? Say you do!” Owen begged, jumping up and down beside Luke. “Say you’ll marry him.”

  “Yeah, say it,” repeated Luke, a teasing grin on his face, and all the love she could ever want in his eyes.

  “I’m not going to agree to marry you just because I’m outvoted,” she protested.

  “Then say it because you love me, and you want us to be a family,” he countered, his deep voice thick with emotion. “Say it because you mean it.”

  What better reason could there be? “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She reached her hand out, eager for him to slide on the ring that would mark the next step in their lives together. “And, Luke?”

  “Yes?” He looked up, her hand in his.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  * * *

  Don’t miss previous Special Edition books from Katie Meyer

  The Marriage Moment

  A Wedding Worth Waiting For

  Do You Take This Daddy?

  A Valentine for the Veterinarian

  The Puppy Proposal

  Available now from Harlequin Special Edition!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Delicious Dilemma by Sera Taíno.

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  A Delicious Dilemma

  by Sera Taíno

  Chapter One

  “I hold you personally responsible for my discomfort,” Val complained as she scrambled out of her cousin Olivia’s Jeep. The relentless percussion from Aguardiente Lounge assailed her from across the parking lot, bringing
with it a flicker of anxiety that she tried to ignore. “My fingers are still sore from the manicure.”

  Olivia rounded the fender, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet. A balmy, spring breeze from the Hudson blew cool and insistent, ruffling their outfits, which were skimpier than what Val was used to. “Do you know how hard it was to get an appointment at the salon on a Friday night? It wouldn’t have taken so long if you’d kept up with your nails.” She paused, unhooking the heel of her thigh-high boot from where it had become wedged in the pavement. “You’d think Rosario would spend a little money to repave the parking lot.”

  Val made a face. “Jesus, they should award degrees in complaining, because you’d have a PhD.”

  “Look who’s talking, Darth Cupcake,” Olivia retorted, using the nickname she’d christened Val with ever since they’d nearly burned down the family restaurant as kids, trying to make cupcakes from scratch. “Get a little polish on your nails and you act like you got tortured by the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “I’m not used to having my cuticles poked at, okay?” Val walked alongside Olivia, who was watching the ground for more crevices as Val tugged at the too-short, black-and-silver romper Olivia had loaned her. Val would never give her cousin the satisfaction of knowing she found the outfit pretty in a Kardashian sort of way, with its tiny designs woven onto a lace overlay against a satin camisole. A belt of the same satiny material tied into a bow at the waist, followed by shorts that were barely long enough to cover Val’s thighs. The soft ivory accents complemented her deep, olive-brown complexion.

  They entered the foyer of Aguardiente Lounge, where Caio, the host on duty, waved them in.

  “Oye, look who’s here!” He bent his tall, wide frame to allow Val to kiss him on his cheek, the scruff of his dark goatee scraping against her skin. “Olivia,” he said when he straightened. “How’d you get her to come out?”