by Paige Parish
MINE ALWAYS
All American Alpha #1
Paige Parish
Copyright © 2019 by Paige Parish
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
A sweet steamy Alpha male and curvy beauty instalove romance…
Janine
I’d picked myself up and regained some of my self-confidence after kicking out my emotionally abusive husband. I was ready to spend my life with the current love of my life, my dog Gabby. Little did I know when I hired this gorgeous muscled carpenter, I was going to be getting much more than I’d bargained for.
Spencer
It was supposed to be just another job for me. I build tiny houses, so I don’t usually spend a long time in one place. Then this gorgeous, curvy redhead took my breath away. Now I just needed to convince her I’d hold her and protect her forever, if she'd let me.
Janine
I plopped down on my leather sofa and tossed my phone onto the coffee table in front of me—a little harder than I should have, considering the top of the surface was glass. I was just so tired of dealing with Declan and his pettiness. We'd divorced a year ago. We didn't have any children between us, and yet, he was still in my life, making my life hell. Still!
Why was this not over already? When I had finally gotten myself together and strong enough to kick out the lying, cheating, mentally abusive bastard, I thought I was well on my way to freedom. Legally, he had no more claim to me or the house we had shared, but he had managed to find ways to keep a leash on me.
I glanced over at my Australian Shepherd, Her Highness Duchess Gabriella (yes, that’s her full name)—Gabby, for short. I frowned. I shouldn’t compare myself to a dog. He treated me way worse on his best day than I would ever consider treating my sweet Gabby.
As if reading my mind, Gabby inched closer to me and laid her head on my lap, her eyes—one blue, one brown—cast upward to my face.
"You're right," I said. "It's not a leash. Leashes lead to good things, like W-A-L-K-S.” Unless I was ready to take Gabby on said journey, I made sure to spell it. She raised her head and cocked it.
Uh oh, looks like she’s catching on. Guess I need to find a code word.
“What he has is a cattle prod,” I finished.
I reached out and scratched between her ears smiling when she threw her head back so I could give her neck some attention too. I heard a ding and turned over my phone so that I could delay reading Declan’s texts for a few moments.
Maybe this is an excellent time to take Gabby for a walk, after all.
As my phone continued to announce additional texts, I headed toward the kitchen and the hook by the back door. Before I had my hand on her leash, Gabby was jumping and spinning on her back legs. A few seconds later, we were slipping out the back door with me flipping my middle finger in the air as my phone alerted me to another text.
It turned out to be an excellent idea. The walk did me good. I felt better and less like the lazy slob Declan liked to tell me I was, and Gabby had met not one, but two new puppies in the neighborhood. I was glad I had thought to carry a few of my dog grooming business cards in a small pocket I had sewn into Gabby’s leash. Gabby was the best marketing director. She could always get people’s attention.
I was sure I had scored a couple of new clients during the impromptu journey around the block. They seemed very excited to have a groomer just around the corner, and it was a bonus for them when I mentioned that I was having a tiny house built in my backyard to serve as my new shop.
It had always been my dream to own my own business. Declan had made me quit the dog salon where I was working when we got married. He had me convinced it was because he wanted to take good care of me and give me a life of luxury. I suspect it had more to do with controlling me and maintaining his ego. What would people think of his ability to provide if his wife had to work?
Gabby and I turned the corner, and I stopped suddenly. With her home within sight, she wasn’t expecting the pause, and I pulled back on her leash a little harder than I should have. She looked at me with something akin to exasperation in her eyes. Someone was knocking on our front door.
One of my superpowers is to go through a color wheel of emotions in just a few moments. I started with fear: Somebody is trying to get into my house!; to annoyance: I hope to God it’s not Declan; to curiosity: Nope, not Declan. Who would be visiting me?; to aroused at the sight of the large, tattooed man standing on my porch: Oh, God, who IS this beautiful specimen and what could he want with me?; and finally to mortification when I realized I had forgotten that the builder was supposed to meet me this afternoon. I looked at my watch: 4:18. We were supposed to meet at 4:00.
Dammit, Declan, I thought. He always seemed to be able to rile me enough to make me completely lose my mind. The man—Spencer I thought I remembered—turned from the door and I caught sight of his chiseled features, strong jaw, and well-defined chest held inside a dark-blue polo shirt. His jeans were tight enough to give me pleasant dreams tonight.
Crap! This handsome man was very busy. It had taken me two weeks to get an appointment with him. I was sure he was going to let me have it and tell me how much of his time I was wasting.
Well, there goes my chance to get the best tiny house builder in the tri-state area, I thought. Gabby started to pull, curious about the visitor, so I lowered my head and walked to my porch, an apology on my lips.
Spencer
I had to rearrange three different appointments to find time to meet with this woman, and it looked like she was a no-show. I didn’t have time for this; I thought as I felt the heat from my annoyance slide up my neck and into my face.
I laid my notebook on a table near the front door while I tried calling her. Now, I slid my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and ground my teeth in frustration as I picked up my folder and turned to leave. A dog's bark caught my attention, and I looked over to see a gorgeous, curvaceous redhead hurrying toward me, her full breasts bouncing as she nearly jogged. My breath caught in my throat.
“Oh, God, I am so so sorry,” she said so quickly it nearly ran together into one long word. “I just . . . I mean . . .” She was pulling out her keys while her curious dog began to check me out, her sniffing nose testing the air around me before lodging into my back end. You know, all dog's chosen way of saying hello.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the woman's red face turned nearly purple, and her eyes registered horror. "Gabby, for God's sake. That's not how we say hello, remember?" The woman—I assumed this was the Janine I was supposed to meet—snapped her finger waist-high, and the dog—Gabby—sat back on her haunches, her attention entirely on her human.
I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled and allowed my eyes to follow from the dog, up Janine’s incredible body, to the porcelain skin of her neck, to her red face. My cock twitched as I had a sudden thought of her face above mine, flush with excitement and passion. I smiled broadly as our eyes met, and I could tell the woman was trying to find a way to hide.
"It's okay," I said, reaching my hand out to hers. She looked down at the keys in one hand and the dog leash in the other and then dropped her keys on the table where I had placed my notebook earlier. She reached out timidly, allowing my hand to envelope hers. I wanted to raise that hand to my lips and give her a gentlema
nly greeting. But I shook it, lingered on it for only a second, and allowed her to grab her keys again to unlock her door. “I’m Spencer. I assume you’re Janine.”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you for being so sweet, but it’s not okay,” she argued as she stepped inside, pulling the pup along with her. “I know you are a very busy man, and you don’t have time for people like me to keep you waiting for twenty minutes.”
I followed Janine and Gabby inside, and she directed me to her living room while she excused herself and her dog. I glanced around the room. It didn’t look very lived in. The walls were mostly bare, and the bookshelf was half empty. There was a beautiful fireplace with an ornate iron cover in front of it and a flat-screen television above it, opposite from a leather sofa and glass-top coffee table.
Janine returned in a few minutes, followed by an off-leash Gabby looking very excited to meet me.
“Can I pet her now?”
She looked down, and the dog looked up at her. It was almost comical, but a sweet sight. It made me have fantasies about coming home every day to both of them. I was definitely a dog person. My last dog had passed away two years ago, and I just hadn’t been able to bring myself to get another one. It felt like a betrayal to Rocky, my pit bull.
Janine gave a “sit” command, and Gabby promptly and obediently dropped her bottom to the ground. Janine looked up at me, and Gabby’s attention returned to me at the same time. I had to tighten my lips to keep from laughing. I didn’t want her to be offended. It wasn’t that I found the scene funny so much as just plain adorable, the two of them basically in tune with each other.
Janine introduced Gabby and the dog’s tail swished back and forth on the ground behind her as I squatted and gently held out my hand for her to sniff. She must have gotten enough of my scent earlier, because instead of sniffing, she started licking, and her tail sped up, causing her butt to swish with every wag. Her little legs were shaking until she finally jumped up and ran into me, putting her paws on my shoulders and transferring her kisses to my face.
“Gabby, no!” said Janine, her face starting to redden again. I quickly threw one hand up to tell her it was okay and put my other hand into the overexcited pup’s thick multicolored fur.
"It's fine, really," I said as Janine stepped forward. She paused, and I explained, "I love dogs. And they can always tell that the first second they meet me. They can't help it. It's not their fault." I stopped myself just before saying, I have the same effect on women.
I hoped Gabby’s mom was as excited to meet me, and as much as I loved playing with Gabby, I seriously wanted to divert a lot of attention to the dog's human.
Janine wiped her face, and the redness paled, giving her a fresh glow that had me wanting to caress her cheeks and run my fingers through her hair while I showered her with kisses. I stood, and Gabby stepped away to run circles around the living room, burning off some excess excitement. I laughed and watched Janine’s face closely. I felt tightness in my jeans and lowered my notepad while crossing my hands in front of my growing bulge.
She was still holding two glasses of water and beckoned me to the couch. Relieved, I sat down as a light lavender scent wafted through the air. I admit I sat closer to her than I usually did when meeting a new client, but I had to be near her.
Who was this woman, and where had she been all my life?
Janine
It had taken every ounce of control I could muster not to jump on this gorgeous man just as Gabby had. I smiled watching Gabby give her sign of approval of our guest and started to wonder if I might not be able to use her to get this man to come around more often. Of course, he would be around if he agreed to accept my job, but I figured there'd be guys to do the work with an occasional check-in.
I wasn't too proud to use my dog to get customers, and apparently, I wasn't too proud to use her to get laid.
Jesus, Janine. I nearly rolled my eyes. You’re acting like a lovesick teen.
I suddenly remembered I had brought water for both of us and asked him to sit on the couch after Gabby decided to take her attention elsewhere. I was surprised at how close Spencer sat to me, and I was able to get a better look at the contours of his face and the sleeve tattoo on his right arm. I didn’t want to stare, so I kept trying to get glances at various pieces of it. It seemed to tell a story. Right away I noticed a paw print and the word “Rocky”.
Not able to help myself, I reached my finger out to the tattoo, “Is that your dog?”
Spencer got a slightly forlorn look on his face as he looked down to where I touched him. “Yep, Rocky left me two years ago, but he’ll always be a part of me right here,” he added.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, moving my hand instinctively to his knee. He looked at me with slight amusement. I started to pull my hand back, but he reached out and held it in place. My stomach fluttered, and desire washed throughout every inch of my body. Before I realized it, I was thinking back to the last time I had shaved my legs and groomed myself. I chuckled at the thought.
“Something funny?” he asked, his warm, large hand still caressing my own. I suddenly felt very tiny, which was a nice feeling since I always felt larger than most people around me. Declan had been so lean, I had felt so aware of myself in his arms, and he always made a point of letting me know how difficult it was to get his arms around me.
I shook my head. “No, sorry, just remembered something.” At that moment, Gabby stuck her head under my arm and dropped her damp rope on my lap.
After a few moments of chatting about the tiny house I was imagining, Spencer and Gabby followed me to the backyard so he could get a lay of the land and see where and how I was visualizing it. He walked around the yard quietly, pausing at various points, seemingly in thought, while I allowed my eyes to have free rein over his body. We talked about features of my yard that might be challenging and what I was okay with changing and what I was adamant we had to workaround.
The languishing peach tree Declan had planted when we first moved in was the first thing Spencer said had to go. I smiled.
“Oh, that poor thing never had a chance. My ex-husband planted it when we moved here. It can definitely go.”
Spencer glanced at me, his eyebrows rising in surprise, and a grin playing around the corners of his mouth. “Then how about we get rid of this atrocity right this minute?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer as he dropped the notebook on the ground and, using his muscular arms, ripped the ugly, mostly dead tree up and tossed it over my fence into my side yard, explaining he would grab it on his way out, unless we wanted to use it for a bonfire sometime soon.
The thought of sitting outside in front of a fire, sharing a blanket with this man was almost too much to bear. I laughed to hide my nervousness and surprised myself by saying, “Oh, that would be so much fun. Could we?”
His grin made his face even more handsome. He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar and set up the date. Getting this appointment on his calendar was easier than setting up our initial meeting. In fact, he scheduled it for the next night and promised to bring everything we needed. I wondered who he might be standing up for our “appointment.”
The sun was setting when we made our way back into the house, and the chill from the early fall started to settle around us. It was the coolest night we'd had since one of the hottest summers on record, and I settled into the peace that often came to me this time of the year.
We returned to the living room, and Gabby settled down on her soft bed near the couch while Spencer and I retook our seats. I could have sworn he sat even closer to me than before.
Spencer opened his notebook and pulled a pen from the binding rings. I told him what I was looking for in general and watched him sketch as my dream started to form into something more substantial on paper. I was amazed at his talent. He even drew a beautiful sign in the yard in front of the house: "Gabby's Den."
I was brought to tears with the care he took with his creation, how he was able to translate my dis
connected ramblings into a place I could already envision. The details were delightful, and we continued to talk as he sketched. Occasionally, I would put my finger on the drawing and indicate I wanted something a little different, but mostly he drew out exactly what I had dreamed of and added details I would never have imagined. I allowed myself a moment to imagine us creating a home together, but was pulled from the reverie by the ding of my phone, announcing another text message. I grabbed my phone and turned it on silent without looking at the messages.
“Do you need to get that?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. There’s no telling what Declan’s complaining about now. I wish he would lose my phone number completely. It's not important, believe me."
Spencer stiffened. “Your ex?”
I nodded. “Oh, I’m so sorry, you certainly don’t need to know all about my personal life and troubles.”
He tossed his pen and notebook on the table and turned to me, putting his hands on my knees. “Janine, be honest with me. Is this truly over?”
I laughed, which seemed to catch me off guard. "Oh, God, yes. It should have never begun. He was horrible to me. Everything he ever did or said to me told me loud and clear he didn't like me at all. I can't for the life of me figure out why he keeps harassing me." I paused and observed Spencer's face. He remained silent, but I could see the muscles in his jaw clench. "Actually, I can. I'm the one who ended it over a year ago. I don't think his delicate ego has recovered from the rejection. He'll get over it. He's still mad I got the house and quite a bit from the settlement. The judge was very sympathetic to me, especially when I showed her the texts from him that I'd saved. He'll get bored with his games soon." I said it much more confidently than I felt.
Spencer narrowed his eyes and placed his hands on mine, squeezing tenderly. “I can’t believe anyone would treat you like anything less than a queen.”
