Welcoming the Bad Boy: A Hero's Welcome Novel

by Annie Rains

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she’d said when he finally joined her. It wasn’t a question. It was an order at a time when he didn’t like taking orders very much.

  They walked in silence for a good five minutes before she spoke again. “There will be times in your life, Griffin, when people will hurt you so badly that you want to curl up and quit. That or start throwing punches at everyone who comes your way.” She glanced over. “Neither of those options is acceptable. You can’t quit and you can’t take your anger out on the world. I know that you miss your father.”

  “I don’t—” he started to say.

  She held up a hand. “I know you’re angry with him, and you think you hate him.”

  “I do hate hi—”

  She held up her hand again. Then she stopped walking and turned to face him. “During those times when you’ve been hurt so badly you don’t know what to do, the only thing you can do is forgive. It’s not easy, Griffin. You might have to do it every hour of every day at first. But then you will start to feel better. The hurt and the anger will lessen, and they will eventually go away.”

  Griffin lifted his chin. He remembered feeling like he might start crying, and he was too old for crying. Men don’t cry. “He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven,” he’d said through a tight jaw, knowing she was right. The anger inside him was palpable to the point that he was going to explode and hurt himself, or someone else. It scared him.

  “No, but you deserve to forgive him.” She reached for both of his hands and held them tight.

  “Is this one of your lectures? Because I’m not one of your students, you know?”

  “I know that. You’re my son. The only child I have. And I love you so, so much. I hope you know that.” Tears had welled in her eyes. “You’re the greatest little boy in the world. Because you’re mine.”

  It was something she used to tell him every night as she’d tucked him into bed growing up. She would sing him a lullaby and chase it with that sentence. No matter how many times she said it, it always felt sincere. At some point he’d gotten too old for lullabies, though, and she’d stopped. She’d always had a sense for what he needed, and she’d always given it to him.

  Griffin shook his head at the memory as he approached room 325 of Seaside Memorial. Tears stung behind his eyes and his nose was running now. His mother had taught him to love and to forgive—the two most important lessons of his life, and he’d let her down on both.

  “Hey, Mom.” He stepped inside the room and held his breath, hoping she’d smile at the sight of him.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him. There was no recognition in her eyes. Her left arm was casted, which filled him with a dull ache.

  “Are you here to take me home?” she asked.

  For a moment he let himself believe that she knew he was her son. That she was asking him to take her back to the home he’d grown up in.

  “To the nursing home,” she added weakly.

  She remembered where she lived. That was something.

  “I am. I just need to talk to the doctor and have him sign your discharge papers.”

  His mother nodded, and then returned to staring at the wall in front of her.

  “Do you need anything, Mo—?” He stopped himself from calling her Mom. She got agitated when he did that.

  “No. I’m fine,” she told him.

  Famous last words.

  “Okay. I’ll be back.” He left and blew out a breath, looking around for the doctor. He headed toward the reception area, where several nurses were seated. “My mother is being discharged today.”

  One of them nodded. “Room 325?” She pulled out a chart and opened it, pushing a stack of papers in front of him. “Read these and then sign on the highlighted line.” She smiled politely, placing a pen in front of him.

  Thirty minutes later, after reading and signing a stack of papers, he wheeled his mother out of the hospital in a courtesy wheelchair. After getting her buckled into his Explorer, he cranked the engine and headed toward Seaside Harbor.

  “You’re a good boy,” she said, looking out the window.

  A flutter of hope scurried around in his chest. Because you’re mine. He willed her to say those words, but she didn’t. She didn’t know him anymore.

  He pulled into the nursing home parking lot and got her inside uneventfully. “I’ll call later to check on her,” he told Louise at the front desk.

  She nodded. “And I’ll call you if anything changes. Now go out and be young. Do something fun.”

  Val came to mind, and he immediately forced himself to think about being naked in Alaska, fucking cold, with senior citizens staring at him.

  “Bye, Louise,” he said, then left in a hurry, while he still had some dignity.

  —

  Val stared at her reflection in the long mirror on her wall. She’d tried on everything in her closet and decided on the shortest skirt along with the tightest knit top she owned. This was the sexiest outfit she’d worn in quite a while and she hoped it’d be enough to put an end to Griffin’s insistence about them not having sex tonight. To cap the look off, she was also wearing a thong. He was her summer fling, damn it, and she planned to milk that for all it was worth.

  Grabbing a cardigan, she headed to the front of her apartment just as the doorbell rang. He was right on time. It was four-thirty P.M. Early in the afternoon for a date, but that’s what Griffin wanted. She opened the door and smiled.

  “Hi.” Her skin burned under his gaze as he ran his eyes down the length of her.

  “Wow. You look amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She took in his outfit, too. Dark rinse jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt, as usual. He was clean-shaven and polished to perfection, even though his eyes screamed jagged edges.

  “It’s going to be near impossible to keep my hands off you in that outfit,” he said, dipping to kiss her cheek softly.

  “That’s my plan,” she said with a wink.

  He shook his head. “There’s a little bit of devil in those angel eyes, you know that?” He handed her a small bouquet of flowers that she hadn’t noticed until now. “As promised.”

  “Aww. You didn’t have to get me flowers.”

  “Yes, I did. And…” He handed her something else. “Chocolate, as requested.”

  The breath caught in her throat. “You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Mr. Black.”

  “And we’re just getting started.” He glanced at his watch. “But we better hurry if we want to catch that ferry.”

  “Ferry?” She’d thought that idea had been eradicated after last night.

  “And picnic.” He offered a smooth smile. “Don’t worry. There’s more chocolate.”

  Her heart melted just a little. “Let me put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where’s the dog?” he asked as she started to walk away.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “And what is the dog’s name?” she asked teasingly.

  “SC.”

  The man was stubborn as a mule.

  “Sweet Cheeks,” she said, pronouncing every syllable, “is with Beth Phillips tonight.” Beth was the sister of Griffin’s friend Lawson. Her ex-husband had been stationed here three years ago, and had abandoned her and their small daughter when he’d gotten new orders. “Sabrina desperately wants a dog, so Beth is seeing how she reacts to a temporary one.”

  “You trust that thing around a child?”

  Val laughed, filling a crystal vase with water. She pulled the plastic wrap from around the flowers and placed them inside. “Sweet Cheeks is well on her way to reformation. And just in time. Alma is being discharged this coming week.” Val frowned. “I’m going to miss that little critter.”

  Griffin shook his head. “Oh, yeah. Me, too.” Sarcasm laced his voice, and Val had to laugh. She headed back toward him. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  The wind blew as Val walked beside Griffin toward his Explorer in the driveway. She was glad he hadn’t ridd
en his motorcycle. She’d have had to run inside and change into her skinny jeans otherwise. Her shortest skirt on the back of Griffin’s bike would not have worked. And she’d spent an insane amount of time on her hair this afternoon. On everything related to her looks. She wanted Griffin to want her, and judging by the look in his eyes, he did.

  He walked around and opened his passenger door for her. Lifting her leg to step in, she caught his heated gaze as the fabric of her skirt shimmied high on her thigh. Yep, the outfit was working. She was definitely getting her way tonight.

  When he got in beside her, he shook his head. “You’re not a preacher’s daughter.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard that conservative parents lead to the most rebellious spawn?”

  He reversed out of her driveway and headed toward the Seaside pier. “But you’re not rebellious as far as I can see. You’ve got a smart mouth, but overall you’re sweet. You work at a school and volunteer at a nursing home. Name one bad thing you’ve ever done.”

  She straightened. It was true. She talked the talk, but didn’t walk the walk. Except inside her novels. Then she was as naughty as she ever wanted to be. She lifted a shoulder. “I did a few bad things last night. Or have you already forgotten?”

  He groaned. “There you go again. Being bad. No sex tonight, remember?”

  “We can’t even talk about it?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Definitely not. That’s trouble.”

  “So, what can we talk about then?”

  He glanced over. “My mother.”

  —

  Naked. In Alaska. Fucking cold as ice with an audience of senior citizens. And a discussion about his mother. There, Griffin’s sex drive was officially dead for the next decade.

  “How is she?” Val asked, looking like an angel again. Her blue eyes tilted with concern.

  “Better. I picked her up from the hospital this morning and took her back to Seaside Harbor. She still has no idea who I am. So, I guess I can say she’s back to her old self. Or new self.”

  Val’s hand reached for his shoulder and squeezed, comforting him. He’d never been one to want comfort. After his angry teenage years, he’d turned to adrenaline as his comfort of choice. Rock climbing. White-water rafting. Chasing bad guys as a rookie officer.

  He parked and looked at Val. Meeting her gaze, she gave just as good an adrenaline rush as any of those things. Especially in that skirt and fitted dark blue top she was dressed in.

  “You can always change your mind,” she said in a singsong voice, reading him like an open book.

  “I’ve got willpower of steel. I’m not changing my mind.”

  Her lower lip turned just a little bit and his cock went hard. He reached behind him and pulled a picnic basket from the backseat.

  She looked from him to the basket. “Wow. You really intend to re-create that scene in my…the, um, book the group at Seaside Harbor is reading.”

  He nodded. “Ferry ride to Presley and a picnic in Presley Park.” His eyes narrowed. “I want you to know I haven’t gone to this much trouble for anyone since high school. And even then it was just so I could get in my date’s pants.” He lifted a brow.

  “You’re not trying to get in my pants today, though,” she reminded him.

  Right. He wasn’t. Despite the fact that he didn’t need a woman in his life right now, he was trying to get inside her heart. He pushed open his door and met her on the other side. They walked down the sidewalk, past the line of cars waiting to board the ferry, and entered on foot.

  “I’m not sure who wrote that book. Sophie Somebody. But she really knows romance. This is smooth,” he said, reaching for Val’s hand.

  Val laughed, and laid her head against his shoulder as they walked. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Secret?” he asked.

  She lifted her head. “Okay.”

  “I bought the rest of Sophie Somebody’s books. I plan on stealing all of her moves, like a playbook for clueless guys.”

  She laughed again and he pulled the hand he was holding toward him and kissed her mouth. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

  “Something tells me you’re not clueless.”

  He continued walking, pulling her to the back of the ferry, where seagulls were already gathered, squawking excitedly. He opened the basket on his arm and pulled out some bread.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, I did.” He tore a loaf in half and handed it to her.

  “I’ve always loved feeding the birds. It reminds me so much of my childhood. Before my mom died…” She stopped talking for a moment, staring down at the bread in her hands. “Before my mother died, we’d go to the pier and feed the birds all the time. It was one of my favorite things to do. I could do it for hours. Then, afterward”—Val glanced over—“well, I didn’t do it again for a long time. My father thought good food would be better given to the homeless shelter, or to a church family in need.” She shook her head. “So silly how something like that can hurt so much.”

  He tore off a piece of his loaf and tossed it to the birds, smiling as they squawked toward him. “It’s not silly. Memories are important. All of them, the good and bad. They make us who we are.” Griffin swallowed, then handed her some bread. “Go for it,” he said, enjoying how her face lit up. Enjoying every second of being with her.

  Chapter 14

  Val closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair as she held on to the rails of the ferry. This was exactly the scene she’d envisioned when she’d written the book that the book club was reading. The cool air on her cheeks. The smell of salt air.

  “Are you about to hold out your arms like the redhead in that Titanic movie?”

  Val opened her eyes and turned to Griffin, her belly fluttering at the sight of his dark eyes and hair. “If it means you’ll wrap your arms around me to keep me from falling.”

  “Maybe falling wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

  Her breath caught. They weren’t talking about the Titanic anymore—but something bigger than that. Or her overactive imagination was running wild again.

  He reached for her and pulled her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her. Lowering his mouth to her ear he whispered, “You’re killing me in that skirt, you know that?” His hands weighed heavily on the small of her back.

  She melted into his hold. “That was my intention,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

  “Wicked little angel,” he growled against her ear, his breath tickling and arousing her.

  “I really admire that you’re being romantic and re-creating this from a romance novel, but I think we could revise that scene and make it even better.”

  He hooked an eyebrow. “Not sure Sophie Whoever would agree.”

  Val met his gaze, her lips so close to his that kissing him was the only thing that made sense. “I think Sophie Evans would definitely approve.”

  —

  Griffin directed himself toward the shadiest tree in the park. He laid the red-checked blanket he’d brought on the ground in front of them. Sitting, he patted the area beside him. “I don’t bite.”

  Val motioned toward her skirt. “Problem. If I sit in this I could be charged with indecent exposure.”

  “I won’t tell.” He patted the blanket again, grinning as she shimmied down to the ground, doing her best not to flash the world around them. She folded her legs off to the side of her and smiled up at him.

  “There. So what else exactly do you have in that basket?” she asked.

  “I thought you read the book.” The scent of her drew him in. Among all the other smells in the park, he could pick her out. She smelled like sweet vanilla and strawberries—good enough to taste. “We’re creating the first-date scene, remember?”

  “Pimiento cheese sandwiches and Ruffles potato chips?” she asked, her gaze wandering to the basket.

  “Odd combination in my opinion but—” He lifted the lid to the basket.

  She
looked at him, her eyes wide. There was a small smile curling her strawberry lips. “This was my mother’s favorite meal.” There were tears welling in her eyes.

  “That’s pretty coincidental, isn’t it?” He lowered his voice, wondering at her sudden emotion. “The book had a scene with a picnic and the couple ate your mother’s favorite meal.”

  She blinked. “Strange, huh? Do you, uh, like pimiento cheese?” she asked.

  He ran a hand up her thigh. “I’ll tell you another secret. I like to take my chips and put them inside my sandwich.”

  “Me, too!” she said excitedly.

  “Something we have in common.” His hand crept higher toward the hem of her skirt.

  “No sex,” she reminded him.

  “No sex,” he agreed, climbing higher still. “But touching you isn’t sex.”

  She closed her eyes as he stroked her softly. This rule he’d created for the night just might kill him. Then, teasing her, he pulled his hand away and reached for the paper plates. “Let’s eat.”

  Val squirmed at the absence of his touch, adjusting her skirt to prevent passersby from seeing what was underneath. That was for his eyes only, but not tonight.

  “This is perfect,” she said, opening her sandwich and starting to layer in the Ruffles potato chips.

  “I take sandwiches very seriously. I’ve never met a girl that liked her sandwiches the same way I do. You surprise me.”