Welcoming the Bad Boy: A Hero's Welcome Novel

by Annie Rains

  Why didn’t she use the purse in the car? he wondered, thinking for the millionth time that people should have to get a license to own a dog.

  Oblivious to his presence, Val headed toward Alma. She wore a fitted knit top and a short skirt that made her legs look as long as the night would be trying to erase this image from his mind. The image didn’t fit with his knowledge that she was the daughter of a well-respected preacher in town.

  She started to pull the zipper chain on the puppy purse and Griffin’s heart went full-throttle. Was she on a mission to kill everyone she came in contact with today? Her puppy needed training before she brought it to a place like this.

  Griffin left his mother sitting in her rocking chair and walked swiftly across the room, placing a firm hand over Val’s as she was about to open the purse.

  Her eyes widened and her mouth made a little O that he could imagine her doing in other, more favorable circumstances.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, a bit more forcefully than he’d intended.

  She looked down at his hand on hers and back up at him. “I’m, um…”

  “Now, that’s no way to speak to a lady,” said one of the women sitting in a chair off to the side.

  Alma nodded in agreement from her nearby perch. “Apologize now,” she demanded.

  Griffin took a breath and lowered his voice to talk to Val. “You can’t release this puppy here. It’s not safe.”

  As if on cue, the pup growled low in its little belly.

  Val looked at his hand again. “Take your hand off me, please.”

  He did as she asked. Then she proceeded to pull out the puppy. Griffin watched on high-alert as Val handed it to Alma.

  “Aw, baby,” the elderly woman said, nuzzling the dog, who lapped her tongue over the woman’s wrinkled cheek. “I’ve missed you so much. Have you been a good girl for Ms. Valerie? You have?” She laughed joyfully.

  “It’s her puppy?” Griffin asked.

  “I’m taking care of Sweet Cheeks while Alma recovers from hip surgery.”

  “I see.” That fact made him feel slightly better about the dog. It was spoiled and undisciplined because its owner had a bad hip and couldn’t exactly keep up.

  “Sweet Cheeks got under Alma’s feet last week and caused her to fall.”

  “The puppy broke her hip?” Griffin asked, lifting a brow.

  “But she didn’t mean to,” Alma chirped, listening to their conversation.

  Griffin massaged a hand over his face. His job was working with dogs. An untrained one always sat wrong with him. He felt like taking it outside and doing rounds with it until it sat, rolled over, and begged on command.

  “Are you okay?” Val asked once more. “I’m sorry again about nearly running you over on the road.”

  “You didn’t,” he said. “More like nudged me into the grass.”

  She tugged her pouty lower lip between her teeth. His gaze lingered there for a moment—better than letting it drop back to those long legs of hers. This wasn’t Heroes, though. This was a nursing home.

  “And you called me stuck-up,” she reminded him. “Your turn to apologize.”

  “Why would I say I’m sorry for that? It’s true.”

  She shoved her hands on her hips. “It’s not true. I’m very social. Ask anyone here.”

  This made him grin. She was gesturing to a group of people who were triple her age. “Maybe so. But you never talk to me.”

  “I’m talking to you now,” she pointed out.

  Only because he’d just marched up and ordered her not to let the monster pup out of its purse, which she’d done anyway.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, halfheartedly. “I was only teasing.” Flirting really, which he had no business doing. He had his hands full with work and his mother right now. He didn’t need anyone else to worry about, placing demands on him.

  Val looked past him toward his mother. “Do you have family here?” she asked.

  “My mother, who I should probably return to.” Not that his mother would care. The formidable Helen Black, who’d stood before packed auditoriums and appeared to know everything about psychology and the human condition, didn’t even know who he was anymore.

  “I’ll make sure I say hi to you next time I see you, to avoid being called stuck-up,” Val said.

  She was smiling at him when he met her blue eyes. They were a soft blue, the color of the ocean in Carmel. “Good. I hope you do. I’ll talk to you later then, Val.” He turned and walked back to his mother—needing to distance himself from the sexy brunette. Kneeling, he whispered, “Sorry about that, Mom.”

  Helen startled as if she’d been drifting off to sleep. “You?” she said, running her gaze over him.

  For a moment, hope sprung from the depths of his heart, where he’d pushed it down for safekeeping. Hope had a nasty hangover, he’d learned.

  “Me,” he confirmed, wondering who exactly his mother thought he was. Maybe just this once she would remember that he was Griffin, her only son. He’d give anything for her to tell him that a man needed a belt, whether his pants fit or not. That T-shirts were meant to be worn under his clothing; they weren’t real clothing. He’d give anything for her to call him son.

  He waited, breaths shallow, as he willed her to say his name.

  Griffin. Your only child. Please remember me, Mom.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asked.

  Hope splintered, cracked, left a dull ache in his heart. Sucking in a breath, he tried to remember. “The menu says meatloaf. You love meatloaf,” he lied, because she never had. Apparently her tastes had changed since being here, though. A lot of things had changed in the years he’d been away.

  She nodded, folding her hands in her lap. “Oh.” Then she returned her gaze to The Golden Girls. She’d never liked that show, either. He sat quietly beside her and pretended to watch, too. And pretended not to watch Val across the room in that short skirt that crept up her thigh every time she picked up the monster puppy.

  —

  After a long afternoon at Seaside Harbor, Val collapsed on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Better than staring blankly at her computer screen. Her deadline hung over her like a dark cloud. She’d heard of writer’s block, but had never believed in it. Words had always come easily to her. Making up imaginary worlds and friends was her favorite pastime. Except now she was at a standstill, and had been for the last six months.

  Val blinked and continued staring at the ceiling, letting her eyes blur and refocus.

  One of the current blocks to her creativity was Griffin. Although actually, her mind was being very creative at the moment, mentally undressing him and exploring the many tattoos he had peeking out of his T-shirt.

  Sigh. The trouble with being a romance writer was that men in real life never lived up to the ones she created in her mind. “Created” being the keyword. Her heroes were fictitious down to their extra-large endowment, as was her alter ego, Sophie Evans. Val could only imagine what her father would say if he found out what she was doing in her spare time, other than reading to the residents of Seaside Harbor nursing home. And the congregation of his church would be all aflutter if they knew she wrote about love and sex, sex and love. Some things were better left untold. It wasn’t like she was harming anyone, just the opposite. Romance made people happy; it made the loneliness a little less lonely. She should know.

  Rolling onto her stomach, Val came face-to-face with Sweet Cheeks. “Real-life men are much smellier, cruder, and nowhere near as charming. They don’t call when they say they will,” she informed the puppy.

  Sweet Cheeks cocked her head to one side.

  “They spit and scratch. Watch too much football.” She rubbed behind the puppy’s ear, smiling as its tail thumped happily on her bed. “And treats? Forget it. They never bring you treats.”

  Her doorbell rang and Sweet Cheeks launched herself off the bed and down the hallway. Another package? She didn’t remember ordering anything else.
r />   Opening the front door, Val’s mouth fell open. “What…? How…?”

  Griffin smiled at her, slow and easy, exactly like a romance hero would in one of her books. “I come bearing treats,” he said.

  Chapter 2

  Griffin held up a box of dog treats and shook it for effect.

  “You brought me dog treats?” Val asked slowly, her brows softly knitting together above angelic blue eyes.

  “Actually, I brought them for Alma’s dog. I figured you could use these to teach her some obedience skills. Can’t have Alma returning home to the Tasmanian devil on steroids and breaking her other hip,” he said as his gaze lifted past her to scope out the front room of her small apartment.

  Sweet Cheeks propped her feet on his leg, and gave him a hey-you bark. Dogs were smart. He wouldn’t doubt if this one knew exactly what was inside the box. He looked down at the little monster, glad that she wasn’t baring teeth anymore. Lowering his hand, he ordered her to sit. She wagged her tail. “Sit,” he said again, a little more forcefully.

  The puppy’s eyes went to the box and she offered up another bark.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  Finally, the puppy went down on her hind legs. Griffin quickly ripped open the cardboard box and gave her a treat. “Good girl.” He returned his gaze to Val. “I know Alma from the nursing home. Just wanted to help out.”

  Val crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’ve never had a dog before. Someone needs to train me.” She laughed.

  And damn if his mind didn’t start reeling with ideas of exactly how he’d train the woman standing in front of him. “It’s my job,” he said. “I’m a K-9 police officer at Camp Leon.”

  “You work with dogs?” she asked.

  “I just handle one at work.” And Jaws was more of a partner than a dog.

  Griffin held out the box of treats to Val. “Carry these with you everywhere you go with Cousin It. They’ll be your lifesaver.”

  Taking them, she looked up. “Thanks. How did you find me?”

  “I have friends,” he said. And being a police officer on base, he knew how to utilize all of his resources to find out most anything he wanted to know.

  “Micah told you?” she asked, talking about her best friend Kat’s husband.

  “I never reveal my sources,” he said. But she was right. He’d seen Val out with Kat Peterson and Julie Chandler several times over the last year. Several times in which he’d tried to catch her eye and she’d looked away. He’d known she wasn’t stuck-up. He’d just been teasing her earlier when he’d said that. He suspected she’d been checking him out, actually, and he’d been doing the same to her. He’d resisted going up to talk to her, though. He didn’t need romantic involvement right now. Not with his mother in her current condition. An untrained dog, however, was hard for him to resist.

  “I can give you a few tips on training Alma’s dog if you want.” Of course, she could just as easily look up a few methods on YouTube.

  He leaned in just a little, finding her harder to resist than he thought. She smelled like vanilla cookies.

  “Thanks, but I think we’ll be fine,” she said, even as he watched the dog squat a few feet behind her and piss on her laminate floor.

  Not his problem, he thought.

  “Okay. Just keep her secured when you’re driving. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “I will.” Val nodded and started to take a step back, right into the dog’s mess.

  “Watch out,” he said, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her toward him. Her hands went up, bracing her body against his.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking perplexed, but not struggling to pull away from him, either, he noticed.

  “Dog piss,” he said, his face only inches from hers. “I’m saving you from dog piss.”

  She met his gaze and oh, damn if he didn’t want to kiss her right now. Those lips of hers looked delicious, and combined with the vanilla cookie scent, he could eat this woman up.

  “My hero.” She shoved herself away from him, and then glared down at Sweet Cheeks.

  “Bad dog. Very, very bad dog,” she said in a voice just as sweet as the one he’d heard her give the canine earlier.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Disciplining her.”

  Griffin laughed. “Dogs listen to your tone of voice. For all she knows, you’re calling her a fairy princess. You need to use your stern voice.”

  “Stern voice?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. The one you’d use on a student who was about to do something dangerous.”

  “You know where I work, too?” Alarm built in her eyes.

  “Relax. I’m a military law enforcement officer. It’s my job to know the details. I’m not stalking you.”

  She nodded slowly, accepting his word too easily. She didn’t know him from Adam. Why should she believe anything he said? But she did. Too trusting. Too sinfully sweet. Which was why he needed to step back and put an end to his X-rated thoughts about her.

  “You need to put her in her crate while she’s here, at least for a while. As soon as you take her out of the crate, she needs to go outside to use the bathroom. That’ll help house-train her.”

  Val nodded. “Thanks for the advice. So…what else do you know about me?”

  He had to smile because she wasn’t paying attention. “That you’re the daughter of a preacher here in town.”

  Val grimaced.

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “When it comes to guys, it is. I only ever get asked out by guys wearing khaki stain-resistant pants and penny loafers.”

  Griffin laughed. “Not your type?”

  “I like a guy who lives more on the adventurous side. You know, with non-stain-resistant pants.” She glanced back at the puddle on the floor again. “Speaking of stains. I better get that cleaned up. And put Sweet Cheeks in her crate. See? I was listening.”

  Her easy banter was making his head and chest feel light. Lighter than he’d felt since hearing the news about his mother’s condition: untreatable. “Try the dog treats and a stern voice.” He stepped backward, toward the steps.

  “I will. Thank you.” She locked eyes with him a moment, the sweetness gone, replaced by something fiery and full of mischief. That grabbed his interest. He may have known more about Val Hunt than he did most strangers, but suddenly that wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more.

  —

  Later that night, Val slipped on a pair of strappy sandals to go with her newest pair of brightly colored skinny jeans and checked her reflection in the mirror. She frowned. She didn’t look horrible, so why the hell hadn’t she had a good date in the last six months?

  Thoughts of Griffin immediately crossed her mind, like they’d been doing all day. She wouldn’t mind having a date with him, or at the very least taking a motorcycle ride through the country with her legs straddling his waist.

  The doorbell rang and Val shook the fantasy away. Then she scooted down the hall, grabbing her purse on the way out.

  “I have three hours before I’m dead on my feet,” her best friend, Kat, said as soon as Val opened the front door. “Pregnancy makes me a slobbering mess by ten o’clock.”

  Val grinned. “Sexy.”

  Kat shook her head. “I know. I know. I’m turning into one of those friends.”

  “What friends?” Julie asked, stepping up beside her.

  Val shut the door and followed her two favorite women down the driveway to Kat’s car.

  “The only married friend in the group who starts talking about pregnancy and babies, and all those things that single women have no interest in,” Kat said, dipping into the driver’s seat.

  Val took the front passenger seat and Julie climbed in the back.

  “I’m your sister,” Julie told Kat. “So I’m stuck with you no matter what.”

  Both Julie and Kat paused to stare at Val, who shrugged.

  “We’re
as good as sisters,” Val told Kat, patting her shoulder. “Plus you’re my boss so I’m stuck with you, too. And I don’t mind.”

  Kat exhaled and smiled. “Great. So I’m the friend that the other friends are stuck with.” She nodded. “Perfect.” Cranking the engine, she directed her car toward Heroes, the local bar in town that catered to the military community.

  “I do have to say that I’m unbelievably jealous of your cleavage,” Val pointed out, glancing down at her own low-cut blouse as they rode.

  “Pregnancy has its advantages,” Kat said. “But Micah knows that once the baby comes, they’re look but no touch.”

  “TMI,” Julie shouted from the backseat. “We’re stuck with you, but we don’t need those images in our minds.”

  Kat ruefully flicked her gaze up to the rearview mirror. “Sorry.”

  A few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of Heroes and stepped out. Val momentarily wondered if Griffin would be inside. In the past, every time they’d seen each other here, they’d politely ignored one another. Or more accurately, on Val’s part at least, resisted each other. When Val had gotten dressed tonight, though, she’d considered him. Maybe even daydreamed a bit about seeing him here and him asking her to dance. She’d fantasized about rubbing up against his body and running her hands down the braided muscle of his arms.

  Blinking, Val suddenly felt the weight of people staring at her.

  “What are you doing?” Julie asked, watching her from just outside the bar’s entrance. Val, on the other hand, was still standing beside the car, staring out into the parking lot…and looking for a black and silver Harley.

  Damn it.

  Val quickly shook her head. “N-nothing. Just dazed, that’s all. Long day.” She caught up to the girls and headed inside.

  “Long day of what?” Kat asked. “Summer vacation is supposed to be relaxing for those of you who aren’t pregnant and don’t have a ten-year-old boy in the house. Is your father putting you to work again?”