by Shannyn Leah
“That’s nonsense when we have perfectly edible veggies here. I’ll finish the appetizers while you two go finish setting up lawn chairs, campfire and lights or whatever you have planned.”
“Done, done, and done.” Stone caught Bowie once again, pulling her against him as if he couldn’t get enough. She could get used to this. “I have to outdo Dax if we’re stealing his barbecue night.” He looked at Bowie. “If you’re done here I have something to show you.”
“I love your surprises.” He’d spoiled her since their arrival in Willow Valley.
“I know.” He kissed her nose. “Come on.” He tugged her toward the loft stairs.
“Did you rub yourself in?” Susan hollered behind him.
“I sure did.” He held the door open for Bowie and she ducked underneath his arm.
“I mean with cold ice run for your muscles. Not sex oil.”
Bowie laughed and heard Stone chuckle. Standing on the first stair, she turned and stuck her head under Stone’s arm as he said, “We’ve got it covered.”
“And don’t you two be having sex in the loft while I’m fixing your guests food just below. You make the walls shake.”
Bowie grinned at him. “I told you we were too loud,” she whispered.
“If you’re not screaming my name then we’re not doing it right.”
She bit her lower lip as a smile tugged the corner of her lips upwards. “We’re doing it right.”
“Damn straight.” He moved to the other side of the door to prop it with his back and planted a hot and heavy kiss. She giggled against him and pulled away before he ripped her clothes off.
“We promise, Susan.” She looked around Stone and saw Susan ignoring them, already having placed a cutting board on the counter and having carried a colander with stalks of washed celery hanging out the top to it.
“I don’t promise anything.” Stone nibbled on her ear. He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t you be having sex with my old man when he’s done chopping the wood and comes in needing to cool down.”
Susan rolled her eyes as she started chopping a stalk of celery. “That old bastard drives me crazy. You won’t have to be worrying about any of that.” At the end of the celery, her knife hit the cutting board with a loud thump and she dumped the cut pieces into a glass divided dish. “I tell him to bring veggie burgers for Emerie, and what does he do? Shows up with all beef and gives me a speech about not eating meat. The man is intolerable.”
Bowie glanced up at Stone with an instigating smirk. The first two weeks of their arrival at Stone’s house, Susan had stayed with them making sure Stone healed and Bowie was fed. But after spending time in the cute town of Willow Valley, enjoying the beach, the small community and the fresh air, she’d decided she wanted to spend her days fighting the cancer here. Susan and Slate had been bickering like an old married couple ever since. Of course, she’d discussed the move with Emerie before any final decisions had been made. And after her daughter had applied and been accepted for an internship at the local exotic animal clinic the two of them had rented a little cottage on the water. Bowie loved having them close, only a short drive away. With Slate always popping in, the two of them couldn’t seem to find a nice thing to say about the other. It was cute watching them act like clueless teenagers.
“She’s a little too defensive,” Bowie whispered to Stone, but loud enough for Susan to hear.
“Agreed. We better hurry to be back to chaperone them.”
A stalk of celery flew across the room and hit the door frame. “Get out before I practice my knife throwing next.”
Bowie laughed and giggled as she darted up the winding staircase to the loft, her recently converted art studio.
STONE HADN’T EVER BEEN the romantic type. Where would he have learned how to woo a woman when his father had been his model.
When he’d first decided to win Bowie over in their early twenties he’d utilized his brash and overconfident refusal to accept her rejections to a date. After one date, they’d clicked and for whatever reason he’d never had to sweep her off her feet, or swoon her. She’d liked the down-to-earth, straightforward and real person he’d been—the person he still was.
She’d planned their trips across the world since she’d already journeyed to most places before. She’d picked the hotels, the restaurants, and the best places to shop and explore.
While he still didn’t find it necessary to sweep her off her feet when a simple ride on her father’s bike, or when he’d started transforming the loft into her art studio would light up her face. She rewarded the simple things he did with her wholehearted smile. He enjoyed that smile in those moments. He never wanted her to feel as alone as she had in the last ten years and he never wanted her to question his love for her.
“We should jump around and moan extra loud just to get a rise out of Susan.” She cast her troublemaking smirk at him as she reached the top of the stairs. “I’ll scream your name real loud and it’ll drive her nuts.”
Stone chuckled at her twisted sense of humor.
“I’m even willing to knock over some cans of paint for effect.”
“You’re bad.” He trapped her with his arms and kissed her. “Oh, Bowie, baby!” he yelled and Bowie squealed her approval.
“Yes, Stone, give it to me!”
Stone heard a whimper that belonged to neither him nor Bowie. She heard it too and moved back eyeing him. “Was that you?”
The whimper sounded again and then turned into a small growl.
Bowie’s eyes sparkled in that way he would never get enough of.
“Oh my god, there’s a dog in here.” She squeezed his neck and jumped. “Did you buy a dog? Did you buy us a dog!?” She glanced around the room, arms still wrapped around his neck.
“Not a dog.”
Another bark sounded.
She looked at him, her smile from ear to ear. “That’s definitely a dog.” She planted a kiss on his lips. “You bought us a dog.” She let go of him and snapped her fingers. “Here little guy. Stone, where is he?”
Stone laughed and walked to the closet. Bowie chased behind him, clapping and jumping up and down. He stopped at the door and she ran into his back.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I’ve never had a pet before.”
He kissed her nose, giving her a gentle push back and then opened the door to the closet. In a square box with three-foot sides, three sets of playful, excited eyes looked up at them.
Bowie covered her mouth with both hands, pressing so hard the skin lightened around her grasp. “You got puppies.”
“I did.”
She reached down and squeezed his hand. “You got more than one puppy.”
“Three. Siblings, so there’s a boy and two girls.”
Bowie bent down and reached her hand into the box of the awaiting German Shepherd puppies. She laughed as they all scrambled to sniff and lick her hands.
“You three are so adorable. Which one of you should we name Bridge?” Her voice altered like she was talking to children. “Are you a Bridge?” She stroked the belly of one that rolled over for her. “Or are you Bridge?” The next one pawed at her arm.
Stone bent down and picked the third one up. “I think we should call this little guy Oscar.”
Bowie stood and ruffled the ears of the dog he held. “Do you like that name? Are you an Oscar?” She smiled at Stone as the dog nibbled on her hand. “Thank you.” She reached over the dog for a kiss from Stone.
“There’s another surprise on this one’s collar,” he said against her lips.
She quickly pulled away and felt Oscar’s collar until she found a small bag tucked under it. “Did you just put this here?” She held the bag between them.
Stone set Oscar back in the box which riled all three into a barking song of objections. “I’m not giving away all my secrets.” He took the bag from her and touched the side of her face with one hand. “Bowie, it’s not been a secret that I plan on marrying you and now that we’ve settled toget
her here and started the life we’ve always dreamed, I want to make it official.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as he lowered to one knee and took the engagement ring out of the bag while never taking his eyes off his beautiful future. “Bowie Blake, I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you. Your smile, your laughter, your beauty, but it wasn’t until that first date that I really fell in love with you. I’d grown up in a broken family and I didn’t know the first thing about a relationship, but I knew with you, I could figure anything out.”
She bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck, sitting on his knee. “I love you, Stone.”
He hugged her back, steadying his foot as they swayed with her weight. “Doll, I haven’t proposed yet.”
“Oh yeah.” She sat back, but didn’t get off his knee. “I’m sorry.”
He wiped a tear from under her eye. “Bowie Blake, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” He slipped the emerald cut halo diamond engagement ring on her finger. “It’s beautiful.”
He tucked a piece of stray hair behind her head. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed her. A kiss that quickly turned heated, but was abruptly interrupted by three puppies wanting to run and play.
“We’ll finish this later,” she promised. “I also got you a surprise in the bedroom. A hint, they’re metal and cold. I was going to do a whole you’ve been a bad boy play, but then you go and propose and bring home three puppies.”
“I can be bad,” he growled. “Very, very bad.” He lifted her over his shoulder and spanked her rear end.
“Not in front of the puppies,” she laughed.
Stone lifted the box and the three puppies barrelled out. “Come on guys,” he whistled as he walked toward the stairs.
“Stone, put me down.” She slapped his back.
“Nope. I’m getting Susan to babysit the puppies so you can show me my surprise.”
THE END
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NEWSLETTER
Please enjoy a sneak peek of the first Bad Boys of Willow Valley
Dax
BAD BOYS OF WILLOW Valley
Book One, Dax Colyn
By The Lake Series
Shannyn Leah
Chapter One
DAX COLYN PARKED his turbocharged, jacked-up Ford truck alongside the front of the thriving restoration shop. He rolled the passenger’s window down to admire his truck’s jet-black paint job reflecting off the mirrored glass windows. Then his eyes took in the remarkably fascinating sign hung at the front of the building which he’d made himself from car parts lying around the shop. In the evening the back lit up and highlighted the name “Colyn & Son”. Dax couldn’t be more proud to have constructed the only restoration business in Willow Valley with his father.
For as long as Dax could remember, his father, Rowdy, had always had a passion for re-building cars. He’d reconstructed car after car and flipped them for a profit. Dax remembered helping him work on them from a young age all the way through his middle school years. While his friends had been playing sports, Dax had played in grease.
So it hadn’t been a surprise that Dax had jumped at the opportunity to be partners when his father had presented a business plan to open Colyn & Son Restoration. However, at the time, Dax had only been in his first year of high school, and his stern father had one stipulation: graduate high school and obtain a college degree first. Dax had nailed both of those while working all his extra hours in the shop.
He’d acquired his hard working gene from his dad, who’d recently been promoted to fire chief at the local fire station where Dax volunteered. His dad still managed to find time to work at their shop but no longer had enough time to enjoy and unwind with his son and a good frosty beer at Buck’s Bar. That was okay with Dax, though. He often found other—more satisfying—ways to unwind at night.
The bar on the main street, across from the beach, was known to attract tourists. Most locals didn’t step foot inside the wild place, but it was an easy place to hook up with attractive women looking for casual, one-night stands. Now that it was September, the pickings were slim, but Dax hadn’t been complaining last night.
Now, with the sun barely up—he’d always been an early riser no matter what—he rolled the window back up and cut the roaring engine. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he took a deep breath and battled his pounding headache. He hurt everywhere. But, damn, it had been worth it.
Ready to start his morning, he grabbed the duffle bag he’d left in his backseat for mornings just like this and climbed out of the truck. Squinting against the morning sun, he slipped his sunglasses down from his head and slid them over his eyes.
As he pressed the lock button on his key fob, he recalled the evening he’d just spent with a spicy redhead. He’d parted ways with her only minutes earlier but the flashes of their night together eased his headache. Still, he’d wished he could have pounded an hour or more in the gym and grabbed a quick shower and well-needed pot of coffee before coming to work, but the fire station was located conveniently beside the Colyn shop—his dad had planned that well—and had a well-equipped gym, showers and coffee that wasn’t half bad. Starting his day here instead of his condo would make it easier to prepare for dealing with the new high school co-op student Rowdy had arranged to be Dax’s shadow for the next twelve weeks at the fire station. Dax didn’t think babysitting a co-op student was a good use of his time but he couldn’t say no to the chief.
“Those shades aren't going to hide the fun you had last night.” His buddy, and volunteer fire fighter, Hawk slapped his shoulder. “I give you credit for trying to disguise your hangover, but I'm guessing no one will miss your blood shot eyes.”
Dax chuckled, tossing his bag over his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing up so early? You don't have a co-op student to babysit.”
He shrugged. “Maybe your morning routine is rubbing off on me.” He looked Dax over. “Last night’s clothes. No perspiration. I see you didn't take your morning run on the beach.” He gave an approving nod. “You hookup with Red?”
Dax smirked at him. “I wasn't walking away from that piece of ass.”
“She wasn't walking away from you.”
That was true. Red hadn't been shy about her motives the night before. Dax liked a straightforward woman who wasn’t afraid of her sexuality and who told him what she wanted.
“Jealous?”
Hawk shook his head. “I didn't go home alone. You’re not the only one who can catch a nice piece of ass.”
Dax laughed, but the motion only caused more pain. The gym was going to kill him.
AT NINE O’CLOCK SHARP, Dax stood in the apparatus bay between two fire engines. His body still felt the burn of his workout, but his mind felt more clear.
He folded his arms across his thick chest, ignoring the objection of his sore muscles, especially his shoulder, where a previous injury still swelled. Narrowing his eyes on his shadow for the next twelve weeks, he sneered at the teenager’s unsuitable attire. The rusty-haired boy—“Rusty” would be a good nickname for him—might get away with not wearing steel toe boots and letting his pants hang so low they looked ready to fall off his ass at school, but not at the fire station. There were co-op safety regulations that clearly stated the clothing requirement the boy had to follow and he’d obviously not paid them much attention. The program had limited positions for kids and it aggravated Dax for one of them to show up without reading the placement outline.
Dax rubbed his scruffy jaw line and asked, “Did you read the placement outline?”
The boy nodded, his long, wavy bangs falling over his eyes. He made a small flipping motion with his head to toss his hair back before saying, “Yes, sir.”
Yes, sir, his ass.
“Go home and read it again. If you can figure out what you’ve done wrong, I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning at the same time. If not, don’t
bother coming back.”
The boy blinked.
Dax arched his eyebrows. “Do you need me to show you the front door?” He glanced beyond the boy where the large four-fold doors stood wide open looking out onto a side street of the main.
Another short shake of the head. “No, sir.” The boy looked around as though one of the other men would swoop in and save him. But this station was half volunteer and half paid, so there weren’t as many around at this hour. This kid better get used to managing his own shit because life wasn’t all a hand out.
Finally, the boy turned and stalked out of the bay, his pants hanging way below his backside. Dax felt bad for the poor bastard whose daughter this boy pursued.
AVA ANDERSON PARKED her car down the street from the local fire station. She popped open the trunk and rummaged around the teal and white beach bag packed with all the necessities for an afternoon at the beach. She swapped out her work high heels to a pair of comfortable sandals and then rummaged some more through the bag to confirm she’d packed an extra change of clothes so she could also get rid of her constricting skirt and blazer.
Breathing in the warm September air, she enjoyed the short walk to the station. These hot end-of-summer-weather days were Ava’s favorite. They promised one more day of soaking up the sun and splashing in the water with her daughter before the winter weather came about.
Stopping in front of the station where the doors were wide open and bright red fire trucks towered inside the bay, she saw her daughter had beaten her to the water part. Soaked from her blonde damp curls to her sandaled feet, the six-year-old was quite a sight. The girl didn’t notice her mother as she dipped a sponge bigger than both her hands in a soapy pail of water before raising it as high as she could reach on the truck. Ava smiled as she watched more water dripping down her daughter’s arms than meeting the red paint.
Ava took off her sunglasses and stepped inside the bay. “I thought we might go to the beach today.”