Guys and Godmothers

by Candice Gilmer

  A few tears fell down his cheek as he held this little pup, who started wiggling like he wanted to get down. Bruce sat the little guy down, and immediately the puppy started roaming around the space, smelling and checking everything out.

  “They said he’s, uh—” Greta pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. “He’s two months. And he’s started potty training. He needs a cage? Do they make dog cages?”

  Bruce smirked. “Yes, they do. Carriers. I have one that was Steve’s.”

  Greta handed him the paper, which listed all the instructions, and he couldn’t help smiling at the little notes she’d written on the sides, added into the printed sheet from the Humane Society.

  The little pup scooted around the room, and when he closed in on Steve’s old bed, he paused, letting out a bark, then proceeded to chew on the side.

  “Oh! Oh! They said he’d chew on everything.” Greta darted forward.

  Bruce put his hand on her arm, wiping away the tears. “It’s okay, Greta. Puppies chew. He’s probably…”

  “Oh no!” Greta cried. Bruce laughed as the puppy proceeded to lift his leg to the doggie bed.

  “He’s marking his territory. It’s okay. Trust me.” Bruce snagged a towel and mopped up the mess. He picked up the bed, and sadness stabbed his chest. He hadn’t touched Steve’s bed. Couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Now he didn’t have much choice. He pulled it open and removed the furry outer shell to check if see if the pee soaked through.

  He put everything in the washing machine when he saw the puppy get closer to Greta, and nuzzle her leg.

  “Uh,” she whispered.

  “He wants you to pet him,” Bruce said as he flipped on the washing machine.

  The pup spun around, barking loud, the echoes bouncing off the walls as he growled at the washing machine. But he stayed very close to Greta.

  “He’s protecting you,” Bruce said. “From the scary washing machine.”

  Greta let out a small laugh. “Oh.” Very mechanically, Greta leaned down, and lightly petted the dog on the head.

  Bruce crossed back and took a seat on the floor. He grabbed her hand and guided her down with him.

  The puppy immediately crawled into Greta’s lap. Greta froze, her eyes wide in panic.

  “Come here, little monster.” He pulled the dog away and started petting him. “So did he have a name?”

  Greta shook her head. “They didn’t say.”

  “So what do you want to call him?”

  “He’s for you. You should name him.”

  Bruce looked into the puppy’s little dark eyes. “You look like a David to me.” The puppy let out a bark. And proceeded to lick Bruce’s face.

  “David it is,” he laughed. David the Dog barked two more times, and practically jumped back to the floor to start exploring again.

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s great.” He reached over and took Greta’s hand, all these strong emotions swirling inside—missing Steve, and yet overjoyed over David. Though even more than that, what Greta had done tugged at his heart more than anything. What had that been like for her, to be around dogs? To go to the Humane Society and get one.

  She had to be terrified.

  Why would she?

  And worry clamped the excited emotions. Was she trying to soften the blow? That she was going to turn him down?

  “He, uh, was one of four. They told me… I guess the mommy dog snapped and attacked a kid. The kid’s okay,” she said, her hand going to her cheek. “But she hadn’t delivered yet. They let the dog deliver before.”

  Bruce nodded. “So he’s an orphan.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Greta said.

  “Well, David, I think we can be your new parents,” Bruce said. David perked his head up and did that dog-head-tip thing, then proceeded to go back to digging at the carpet under the coffee table.

  Bruce reached over and took Greta’s hand. “That is, if you want to be his mommy with me?”

  “I…”

  “Wait.” Bruce jumped up, charging over to his work desk. He was back in a second, sitting next to her. And he noticed that David had joined Greta, curled up in her lap, panting as he fell into a fitful puppy doze as loud as the hammering in Bruce’s chest.

  “Let me do this right.” He held up the ring box.

  “Oh my gosh,” Greta said. David jerked in her lap, an eye flicked open. David gave Bruce a dirty look, then went back to sleep.

  “Greta, will you marry me?” He opened the ring box.

  “Oh wow,” Greta whispered, staring at the ring. “Oh my gosh.”

  “I know this is the sudden, it’s fast, but I think I’ve been in love with you for six months, Greta. I grab my phone every morning just in case you texted me. If I wake in the night, my first impulse is to text you, just in case you’re up. I talk to you more than I talk to my friends. You know me better than anyone. No filter, no show. You know the real me. And I like to think I know the real you now. I think if we can be real with one another, that’s what counts. And I want the real you with me, for the rest of my days.”

  Tears poured out of her eyes.

  He held the ring closer to her. “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are,” Greta said. “It’s just…”

  “I know, it’s fast. Doesn’t mean we have to get married tomorrow. I just want you to be with me. To be mine.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, to be my girlfriend.”

  “Yes.”

  Bruce nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Bruce.” She touched his leg. “Yes. Yes, Bruce. I’ll marry you.”

  She took the ring box, and Bruce pulled the Victorian-style engagement ring out of the box and slid it on her finger.

  Greta held her hand out. “Where did you find a vintage ring like this?”

  “It’s actually not vintage. Just done in that style. I thought… well, that since we had a nontraditional relationship, a nontraditional engagement ring would be best.”

  “It’s stunning. All the filigree on the sides, how it’s elevated…”

  “You’re not just marrying me for the ring, are you?” Bruce asked.

  She waggled her eyebrows. “Doesn’t hurt.”

  Bruce yanked her to him, and kissed her, guiding her to the floor. Where he proceeded to start mauling her.

  Greta moaned as he kissed her neck.

  He was going to—

  Little barks broke their concentration. David growled at Bruce, teeth showing. Bruce raised his eyebrow. “I think you have a protector.”

  Greta stroked the puppy’s head. “I think I have two.”

  Bruce grinned. “I love you, Greta.”

  “I love you too, Bruce.” She stroked his cheek.

  Epilogue

  “I’m nervous.” Greta fidgeted outside the little pub.

  “Why?” Bruce asked.

  “These are your friends. What if they don’t like me? Stare at my scars…” She looked away from him, her eyes darting all over the bar.

  He pulled her into his arms. “Then I’ll beat them up.”

  Greta snorted. “I don’t have any more favors to keep you out of jail.”

  “Then I’ll just have to do it really quiet-like.” Bruce kissed her forehead. “Now you know how I felt when your parents inspected the apartment.”

  “Oh, they weren’t that bad. At least Dad went with you to walk the pup.”

  Bruce snorted. “We had to escape. Your mom was picking out drapes.”

  She laughed. “Well, she wants grandkids. Like now.”

  “We should get married first.” Bruce grinned and put his hand on the door. “Come on, you’ll like Roark. He’s a nice guy. Makes perfume.”

  “He makes perfume?” Greta asked as they walked inside. “
Really?”

  “Yep. Family business.” He tugged Greta through the foyer of the little pub and crossed to the rear room, where they always wound up sitting.

  Who would have thought, six weeks ago, he was here, having William’s bachelor party, wondering if he’d ever wind up with someone. And now look…

  Wait a second.

  At the bar, a gal with blonde, curly hair next to a man in a dark gray shirt and jeans.

  She turned, and Bruce froze.

  It was Lilly. His Fairy Godmother. Sitting with… shit, the blue one, Christy. Neither of their wings were visible, but he knew them.

  “Come on, we need to go say hi to someone.”

  Lilly saw his approach and waved.

  “Hi,” Bruce said, not sure if he was happy to see Lilly.

  Lilly grinned. “Hi Bruce. And you must be Greta.”

  “Uh, yeah, hi. You are?”

  “I’m Lilly. And this is my husband, Andres.”

  The man in the gray shirt turned to Bruce and Greta. “Nice to meet you both.”

  “Uh, night out?” Bruce asked.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact,” Lilly said with a grin. “You remember Christy? This is her husband Ewan.”

  Christy smiled, and hands were shook.

  Greta tugged on Bruce’s arm. “Who are these people?”

  “Uh…” What did he say? That it was his Fairy Godmother? He didn’t see that one going over very well. Nope, not at all.

  “I did some modeling for Bruce a while back,” Lilly said, smiling. “Me and Christy.” she elbowed the blonde.

  “Yeah, it was lots of fun,” Christy said.

  Bruce raised his eyebrow. “I don’t remember you being married.”

  Lilly grinned again. “It happened very fast.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Bruce squeezed Greta’s hand. Turning, he saw Roark sitting—wait a second.

  Roark brought Stephanie? And he was nuzzling her neck?

  Hmm… Interesting, interesting.

  “Come on honey, time to meet some other friends of mine.” Bruce and Greta said their goodbyes and crossed to Roark’s table.

  Bruce took a seat next to Roark. “You owe me a dollar.”

  “Why?” Roark asked.

  He pointed at Roark and Stephanie. “I asked you about that… You said there was nothing there. I think you were lying.”

  “When?” Stephanie asked.

  “At the wedding,” Bruce replied.

  “There wasn’t then,” Roark said.

  Bruce nodded. “Well, it’s good to see. You two belong together.”

  “Speaking of, Bruce, you jackass, who is this lovely lady?” Roark asked. “I’m Roark, and this is Stephanie.” He held out his hand to Greta.

  “I’m Greta,” she replied.

  Bruce stroked Greta’s back, sliding up to her neck, and letting his fingers entwine in her hair. “This is who I’m always texting.”

  “Nice,” Roark said.

  “Gorgeous ring,” Stephanie said. “May I?”

  Greta held out her hand. Bruce noticed she trembled as she did, and he put his hand on her leg.

  “Ring?” Roark asked.

  Bruce nodded. “Yep. Ring.”

  Greta put her hands in her lap.

  “I’m a wedding planner,” Stephanie said. “I can help you with all the arrangements. And I might even discount my services for this knucklehead, if he proposed properly.” Stephanie winked at Bruce.

  “Oh, it was proper.” Greta blushed. “He actually proposed twice.”

  “Please tell me neither of them was via text,” Roark said.

  Greta grinned. “No. It was actually very sweet, both times.”

  “Just took me a while to figure out she was saying yes.”

  Roark rolled his eyes. “Well, I hope you know about his book collection. The man loves all things sci-fi and steampunk.”

  Greta blushed. “I do too.” She squeezed Bruce’s leg.

  “All those books you give me crap about? She writes them.” A bit of pride swelled in Bruce’s chest, bragging on his future wife.

  “Awesome,” Stephanie said.

  “You’ve probably made him the happiest man ever.” Roark grinned.

  “I hope to,” Greta said.

  Bruce squeezed her hand. “You will.”

  She smiled, her cheeks turning pink.

  Yep. He was in love. Madly in love with her.

  It couldn’t get any better.

  About the Author

  Candice Gilmer lives with her family in Kansas, admiring the beautiful skyline, watching out for tornadoes and occasionally writing. She can be found around the Internet here:

  Website: www.candicegilmer.com

  Blog: candicegilmer.blogspot.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/candicegilmerauthor

  Twitter: @candicegilmer

  Look for these titles by Candice Gilmer

  Now Available:

  Fantasy Girl

  The Reluctant Prince

  Mission of Christmas

  Guys and Godmothers

  Under His Nose

  Before His Eyes

  Just His Taste

  The Mythicals

  Saving Her Destiny

  Mythical Knights

  Dark Within

  She’s been there, done that—but never with the sexy hockey player next door.

  One Hot Night

  © 2013 Samantha Hunter

  Old Port Nights, Book 1

  Dating, marriage, divorce…Audra Leone has been there, done that. These days she’s focused on her antiques business and doesn’t need a man complicating her life.

  Still, she can’t help but notice the flirty ex-hockey player who owns the sports bar next door, but he’s got two strikes against him. He’s her landlord, and he’s almost ten years younger—which puts Audra way outside the flock of twenty-somethings vying for his attention.

  When Scott Beckett sees Audra hasn’t closed shop during a major snowstorm, he checks in on her—to find her shackled to a post. He’s more than happy to help and close the distance she keeps firmly between them. He’s well over his playboy days and hungering for something stronger, something lasting.

  One spontaneous, bone-melting kiss leads to an explosive night of passion, and Scott realizes the quiet antiques lady is everything he craves. But it’ll take some doing—and maybe a disaster or two—to convince her to give forever a chance.

  Warning: Contains a wounded heroine who’s put her heart on ice, and an ex-jock who still knows how to run interference on her defenses. Could have you wishing for snow in July.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Guys and Godmothers

  Copyright © 2015 by Candice Gilmer

  ISBN: 978-1-61923-250-1

  Under His Nose Copyright © 2015 by Candice Gilmer

  Before His Eyes Copyright © 2015 by Candice Gilmer

  Edited by Holly Atkinson

  Cover by Valerie Tibbs

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Under His Nose, ISBN 978-1-6192
1-664-8

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2013

  Before His Eyes, ISBN 978-1-61921-926-7

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2014

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. print publication: July 2015

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2015

  www.samhainpublishing.com