Welcoming the Bad Boy: A Hero's Welcome Novel

by Annie Rains

  With a smile on her face, Val stumbled to her bed and collapsed with Griffin on her brain.

  Chapter 7

  It was Saturday, Griffin’s day off. He’d spent it washing his Harley, visiting his mother, and looking for an excuse to stop by Val’s. When he’d finally come up with one, however, and driven over to her apartment, she’d been gone. Which filled him with all kinds of questions he shouldn’t be wondering. Like was she on a date with someone else? Not that it mattered. She could date who she wanted.

  “You want to go out, buddy?” he asked Trooper, sprawled at his feet.

  Trooper wagged his tail. He wanted to go see his pal Jaws, which Griffin sometimes arranged. Jaws was younger and faster, but the two dogs loved each other. And Griffin loved them both, despite the trouble Jaws was giving him at work.

  Griffin grabbed Trooper’s leash—not that he would use it—and headed out the door. He opted for his Ford Explorer in the parking lot this time, securing Trooper in the back. A short drive later, he pulled into the K-9 parking lot on base, unloaded Trooper, and went to get Jaws. He usually came to check in with Jaws on his days off, and take him for a run if time allowed. Rain, sleet, or snow, he took care of his family. And his dogs were his family. It was the same reason he’d brought his mother here to Seaside. He’d been a shitty son in the past, and he regretted that, but things were going to change now.

  Jaws gave a short bark when Griffin came to his gate.

  “Back at you, big guy.”

  Trooper barked, too. It was sweet really, these two big tough dogs wagging their tails in excitement to be together.

  “Let’s go.” Griffin walked them out of the building and down a long sidewalk toward a field the guys used for obstacle courses and trainings. It also seconded as a track when it needed to.

  Trooper always had the spot closest to Griffin’s side when they’d worked K-9 together. In his old age, however, Trooper had given up that spot to Jaws. There was a new alpha dog, but that didn’t mean Jaws had taken the highest rank in Griffin’s heart. Hell, no. That spot would forever belong to Trooper, who’d been with him on three tours in the desert—one that nearly killed them both. They would’ve died together, though, because no way would Griffin ever leave his dog’s side. Never. And he was pretty damn sure Trooper felt the same way.

  Griffin glanced over at Trooper’s slightly awkward gait. No longer the invincible pup, he had arthritis now. Even so, Trooper wasn’t going to let Jaws get too far ahead. He might be old, but he was tough.

  “That’s right, boys,” Griffin called, pounding the stress of the day into the flattened dirt. The nursing home had called twice today to tell him that his mother was refusing to eat. First breakfast, and then lunch. If this continued, they’d have to give her a feeding tube, the nurse had told him. She’d eaten a candy bar for Val, though. He’d seen the chocolate evidence smeared on her lower lip when she’d promptly told him to go the hell away.

  No way was he letting someone run a tube through his mother’s nose. If she wanted candy bars, he’d bring her a dozen of ’em.

  They ran a few miles and then headed back to put Jaws in his kennel. Griffin loaded Trooper back in the Ford Explorer, rubbing his hand over the dog’s nose. They were a team. He needed Trooper just as much as Trooper needed him. Neither of them was using the other. That’s what had initially attracted him to this job in the Marine Corps. Dogs were pretty much an open book. The happy home he’d grown up in, on the other hand, had been full of secrets and lies that he’d only found out by accident on his nineteenth birthday. He was one year into college, attending his mother’s alma mater. He’d come home on break and had started looking through his mom’s bin of personal things. He was doing a project at school that required a picture of him as a baby. He’d known his mother kept them in that bin, but she was a busy professor and it was during final exams at the all-girls college where she taught. She wouldn’t mind. It was his life, after all.

  It’d never occurred to him that his mother was hiding anything from him. But she’d hidden everything from him, including his own name. Which was slightly funny if he thought about it now, because now she couldn’t remember his name, the real one or the one she’d given him when she’d adopted him at six months of age.

  He headed home, taking the long route so that he could drive by Val’s again.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He told himself it was because he wanted to talk to her about his mother, but that was only partially true.

  Her driveway was still empty. None of his business. Val was a beautiful woman. He guessed she’d have men standing in line to go out with her. And despite his fierce attraction and the Marine Corps’ rigid training, he wasn’t one to stand in line.

  No, he was a line cutter.

  —

  Val was trying not to yawn in church. Her father always, always looked at her when she yawned. And then she couldn’t contain them. Another yawn would always follow the first. They were like dominoes.

  Don’t yawn. Don’t yawn. Don’t…

  Her face stretched with a big yawn that felt so good, like snuggling into a warm bed at the end of a long day. Or a long night. She’d stayed up late last night. Really late. But her muse was suddenly kicking and she couldn’t afford to waste a moment of inspiration. Inspiration that Griffin had given her.

  She yawned again, avoiding looking at the front of the church where her father was preaching. Today’s sermon was on honoring wedding vows. At the rate she was going, she was going to stay an old maid forever, therefore she really didn’t need to listen to her dear old dad. Instead, she was mentally plotting her next scene between a hero that fit Griffin’s description to a T and a heroine who resembled her description. It was all innocent fantasy. And all based solely on physical attraction because she and Griffin were a poor match otherwise.

  She raised a hand to cover her next yawn, catching her father’s glare as she glanced upward. Crap. She pulled her Bible closer to her and blinked past the watery mass that had filled her eyes while yawning lazily in the front pew.

  When church was over, she slipped out quickly, avoiding her father and a few of the elders who asked without fail every week when she was going to “settle down.” She slipped into her Volvo and cranked the engine, suddenly feeling more alert as the radio blasted music and air-conditioning blew in her face. Reversing her car out of her parking spot, she headed to a lunch date she didn’t want to be late for.

  The nursing home was quiet as she entered. For a girl who’d enjoyed her fair share of wild days in her teens and early twenties, it was funny that she’d spent just as many calm, serene days here. Growing up, her father had always insisted she do at least one volunteer activity. Seaside Harbor nursing home had always been her top choice—just like her mother. She loved sitting with the residents, talking to them, reading to them, playing board games, whatever they wanted to do.

  Waving at Louise seated at the front desk, Val hurried toward the community room where a bunch of the residents ate their meals together. Val had specifically asked that Helen be seated there today at lunchtime rather than staying in her tiny room. Helen was still not eating enough to sustain herself and Val hoped that she might take a few bites with a little friendly encouragement.

  Helen sat at a table by the window. She was a beautiful woman with pale blond hair and smooth skin that contrasted with all the other residents’.

  “Hi, Helen,” Val said, pulling up a chair beside her. She looked down at Helen’s tray of food, untouched so far. “You don’t like your lunch, huh?”

  Helen blinked, seeming to realize for the first time that Val had sat down with her. “You.”

  Val took that to mean Helen recognized her. “Me,” she confirmed, offering up a sincere smile. She unzipped the lunch box she’d packed earlier that morning and pulled out two sandwiches. “I brought you something.” She laid one of the sandwiches on a paper plate in front of the older woman. “Made it myself, and I’ll be ver
y insulted if you don’t try it.”

  Helen looked down, her brow line twitching softly in confusion.

  “Did you make one for me, too?” a deep voice asked, coming up behind her and sending immediate heat waves through her body.

  Val turned to acknowledge him, already knowing who it was. “Hey, Griffin. What are you doing here?”

  He sat at the table, too. “Uh.” He glanced over at Helen.

  “Right,” she said, feeling like an idiot. Helen was his mother, even if the frail bird of a woman couldn’t seem to remember that fact.

  “Can I join you ladies for lunch?” he asked.

  It suddenly occurred to Val that maybe she was the intruder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming. I can come back another day.” She started pulling the sandwiches back inside her sack.

  Griffin’s warm hand stopped her. “You’re fine. Please stay. My mo—” His voice caught on the M-word. “Helen and I have shared a few lunches together recently. She doesn’t really like what I bring her.” His eyes darkened as he met Val’s gaze. Something told her that Helen also didn’t enjoy the company he offered. “Maybe she’ll like your lunch offerings better.”

  “Oh.” Val nodded. “Well, I do pack a mean lunch.” She squeezed Helen’s hand before setting a cup of fruit cocktail beside the bagged sandwich. She’d packed plastic cutlery in her lunch sack, too. She took the plastic knife and sank it into the middle of her peanut butter and honey sandwich, then placed one half on one of the paper plates that she’d brought. She filled the other half of the plate with veggie crackers and slid it in front of Griffin. “Here you go. There’s enough for all of us to eat.”

  His smile was warm, which surprised her. When it came to his mother, he’d been a little defensive thus far.

  Val pulled out the paper cups she’d brought with her and poured each of them a cup of apple juice. Then she took Helen’s hand. “Let’s say grace before diving in, shall we?”

  Helen had only said one word since she’d sat down at the table with her. “You.” A blank expression answered back now.

  Val turned to Griffin. “You, too,” she said, knowing she might be pushing her luck in telling him what to do with his mother. She had rules for saying grace, though. Everyone held hands and everyone bowed their heads. Val tipped her head at Helen’s free hand, asking Griffin in a not-so-optional way to take it in his own.

  Griffin didn’t hesitate. He reached out his hand to Helen, waiting for her to set her tiny hand in his. Helen had allowed Val to grab her hand, but she probably wouldn’t have been thrilled with her son, a complete stranger to her now, if he’d done the same.

  Helen turned to Val in question.

  “It’s okay,” Val said, encouraging her. “Take Griffin’s hand.”

  Shakily, Helen complied. It made a knot of emotion swell in Val’s throat. Val reached her other hand across the table toward Griffin, needing to close the chain. A surge of attraction lit through her as his hand enveloped hers.

  After a quick prayer, Val picked up her sandwich half and took a bite, glancing over at Helen and inwardly praying that she’d do the same. You couldn’t force someone to eat, not unless you ran a feeding tube down their nose. Val didn’t want that for Helen. She didn’t want that for Griffin either, who appeared to be willing his mother to take a bite with his eyes.

  “Mom, why don’t you try the sandwich Val made you?”

  Helen’s eyes widened. “I’m not your mom,” she said, fidgeting with her hands in front of her. She was getting agitated. The room was full of chatter and smells. And she didn’t know Griffin from the janitor at the nursing home. It must be so terrifying for her to be here, Val thought, instinctively moving her hand over Helen’s.

  “Honey and peanut butter was one of my mother’s specialties. She made one for me every day for lunch.” Val laughed to herself. “Kids should really have more variety in their diet, but it was something we did together.” Her father had never stocked honey in their pantry after her mother’s death. He’d made peanut butter and jelly, which was okay, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing had been the same after her mother died.

  Val’s throat tightened and she was suddenly hit with those pesky emotions she tried to keep at bay in the company of others.

  “Everything okay?” Griffin asked, meeting her gaze. So observant.

  She nodded quickly, summoning a yawn, which always brought tears to her eyes. It was a trick she’d learned a long time ago. When your eyes were watering, people shrugged it off in the company of a yawn. Yawns made everyone’s eyes water. “Just tired. I was up late last night,” she said, telling the truth.

  “Doing what?” he asked.

  Heat moved through her. She hadn’t expected that question. No way was she going to tell him the truth, that she’d been up writing a romance where the hero was suspiciously similar to him, down to the tattooed, muscled arms and military-short black hair. “Um…well, I…”

  “You were reading one of those romance novels like you’ve been reading to the women here, weren’t you?” he asked, teasing her.

  She relaxed a little, tilting her head. “Maybe.”

  Griffin grinned. “When I can’t sleep I count backward from one hundred. It’s something that my, uh—” He hesitated.

  “Something your mother taught you,” she supplied, smiling gently.

  “Yeah.”

  They both stopped talking as Helen lifted her sandwich to her mouth. Val held her breath. Please take a bite. Please take a bite. Please take a…

  Helen’s teeth closed down on the bread and she pulled a small piece off. Val tried not to let Helen see her watching. Griffin did the same. Helen chewed and swallowed. Val felt like plowing a fist into the air. One bite was success, even a small one. From the gentle turn of his mouth, Val knew Griffin felt the same way. She swallowed, sharing a glance that said so many things. It wasn’t often that two people who barely knew each other shared glances that spoke volumes, but she and Griffin had just won a small victory together.

  There was something else in his eyes. Attraction. Or maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe last night’s writing session made her feel things that weren’t real. She always fell for the heroes she created in her books, and this one was loosely based on Griffin. Or entirely. So was she falling for the fictional Griffin as well as the real one?

  Heart pounding, she looked away, redirecting her attention to Helen, who took another small bite of her sandwich.

  —

  It was only seven forty-five on a Tuesday morning and the sun was already cooking the back of Griffin’s neck as he stood with a couple of the guys from the K-9 unit and watched a local high school class file in through the gate of the outer fence. They started walking toward a set of bleachers that faced another fenced-in obstacle course for the dogs. It was “Training Tuesday.” Every Tuesday there was time slotted for demonstrations like this one. It was a way to show off the dogs and shine a positive light on the K-9 unit.

  Griffin planned on keeping a tight hold on Jaws today. He’d do the obstacle course with him, but that was it. “You be a good listener out there, boy,” he told the dog at his feet. Jaws looked up with large, dark eyes and wagged his tail. Griffin had a sneaking suspicion that Jaws wouldn’t be a lifer in the K-9 unit like Trooper had been.

  The teens sat. They were loud with laughter and chatter. Griffin watched as the boys leaned in to the girls, flirting. The girls would laugh, run a hand through their hair, and the cycle would continue. Life was so simple for teens, he thought, turning as Troy approached with his K-9, Bear.

  Jaws’s body went rigid.

  “Relax,” Griffin said, using his tone of voice to command the dog. Griffin waited for Jaws to soften before turning to Troy. “Hey, man. Ready for this?”

  Troy grinned. “It’s your turn to do the question-and-answer.” He rubbed his hands together excitedly in front of him. Bear went on alert at his master’s hand gesture.

  “Bullshi
t. I did it two weeks ago.”

  Troy nodded. “And Carson is out. It’s your turn again, man. I hope you get some real brain-suckers.”

  Griffin’s shoulders sagged. He didn’t mind running the obstacle courses, but he hated opening the floor to questions. Not that the questions were ever hard, but they tended to be exhausting. And the naïveté of the questions always sounded like the kids thought he and the guys just sat around doing tricks with the dogs all day. “Fine.” Looking at his watch, Griffin decided he’d take the next ten minutes before the demonstration started to drain a second cup of coffee. He was going to need the extra caffeine to survive the morning.

  Ten minutes later, caffeinated and resigned to his fate, he walked in front of the group of students. After a quick introduction, he told the students how the morning was going to work. First, they were going to watch the dogs run a few obstacle courses. Then they’d see how the dogs sniffed out things like drugs and bombs. Lastly, there’d be a Q&A.

  A student wearing a yellow ball cap raised his hand. Maybe he’d missed the bit about doing the Q&A at the end of the hour.

  Griffin took a breath before responding, coating his voice with a smile. “Yeah, buddy? What’s up?”

  “So, what do you actually do with the dogs?”

  Griffin kept his smile in place. “Watch and see.” He walked through the gate, entering the fenced-in obstacle course area with Jaws. Troy had taken Bear back to the kennel and was now wearing a padded suit. That was another job that Griffin despised. Role-playing the “bad guy” so that the dogs could practice ripping you to shreds wasn’t as fun as it sounded.

  Griffin gave a few commands to Jaws, pretending to be on a scene. Troy stood fifty feet away doing his best to look shady in a bite suit. No matter how hard he tried, though, Troy was too boy-next-door to look the part of a criminal.

  Griffin went through the regular skit. He asked Troy what he was doing and why. Troy, in character now, stumbled around, acting drunk. He shoved Griffin and a deep growl rumbled through Jaws’s muzzle.