Valentine Hound Dog: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 2)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “I don’t know what you thought you overheard, but I didn’t go home with either of those men.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I was only being friendly because they’re writing articles about the show. I’m not seeing anyone but you.”

  “So you say.” Larry all but growled.

  “What’s the matter with you? All angry? What did I do wrong?” Jenna stood her ground, puffing her chest out. She wasn’t leaving until this grouchy bear explained himself. “Are you going to get jealous every time I speak to someone else? Because if that’s the way you are, this isn’t going to work out. I’m in the fashion industry and while a lot of the men are gay, not all of them are.”

  “You’re right, Jenna. This isn’t working. I’m in the trash industry, and when I see trash, I take it out.”

  “Are you asking me to leave?” She shoved herself against him. “Are you calling me trash?”

  He grabbed her and held her back. “No. But I want you to leave and never come back. You don’t need me and I don’t need you.”

  His fingertips burned where he gripped her, but he wasn’t letting her come closer. Jenna’s heart lurched into her gut.

  “You’re not coming with me tomorrow for Valentine’s Day?” she managed to stammer, hardly able to believe Larry’s hostility.

  “No.” He remained closed and unyielding, but let go of her. He opened the door.

  “What happened to being mine and saying ‘yes’ to me as long as I wanted? You promised me.” Jenna patted her chest, afraid her heart would burst out.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.” He bent down to grab Little Harley’s collar so he wouldn’t follow her out. “Beauty truly is only skin deep. Bye.”

  “No, I’m not leaving until you see something important.” Jenna grabbed his buttoned shirt and ripped it all the way down to his waist.

  Larry let go of Harley and scrabbled for the shreds of his shirt.

  Jenna shut the apartment door so Harley wouldn’t go out, and ripped the rest of Larry’s shirt, including the sleeves, through his hands.

  He stood shock still, bare to the waist in front of her—the melted and healed skin was mottled and streaked with scar tissue.

  She pushed him against the wall and ran her hands over each scar. “You are beautiful, Larry. So beautiful it kills me. You ran into a burning building, your skin melting off you. This. This, and this.” She outlined the pits and striations. “Are badges of courage. You are a brave man, and you are a good man. Your beauty goes from your skin all the way to your soul.”

  His Adam’s apple bulged and he tightened his jaws. He felt hard and clenched, like he wanted to explode. “You don’t really believe that. You and Connor rigged the bachelor auction. You thought no one would bid on me.”

  “No! I wanted you for myself.”

  “Liar. I know about Irina. That’s why she was so confused when you stepped forward. How are you going to pay? Or was it all an act? Poor Larry. He’s so ugly, no one would bid. He’ll never get a date on his own. We must help him.”

  “No, Larry.” Jenna gripped onto his shoulders. “I bid because I wanted to. I’ll pay. I’ll sell my grandmother’s diamond earrings. I’ll pay every penny because you’re worth it.”

  “Stop your motivational speech.” He gripped her hands and removed them for his body. “Don’t you think I’ve been through enough therapy? I lived in the burn unit for over a year. I’ve heard it all. I don’t need your pity.”

  She twisted her hands from his grip and pounded his chest with both fists. “You don’t need your own pity. What are you doing with your life? Stop hiding behind your scars. Stop acting as if you’re everyone’s number one charity. I’m going to leave because you want me to. But you will not forget me, because I love you enough to tell you this. Claim your life, Larry. Go. Claim it and live it.”

  She couldn’t help pressing her lips on his neck and nuzzling him. “As for Irina, it’s true I set her up. But that was before I fell in love with you. I screwed up and I’m sorry. I was jealous about Irina even before I asked her to bid. If you love me, you’d forgive me.”

  “You should go.” Larry’s voice was harsh. “I don’t love you. I never did. I only used you.”

  “Used me?” Jenna jumped back and stared into his dark, foreboding face.

  “Yes.” He clenched his teeth. “I wanted to show you off to Connor and all my firefighting buddies. Now that you bid ten thousand, I’m the winner. Your show was a success. You can go ahead and suck up to the photographer and the fashion rag editor. Get your glowing reviews, your celebrities, and fast track career. And I can frame all the pictures of us together and brag that I was the one who got you started with my ugly mug next to your angelic face.”

  “You can’t possibly believe what you just said.” Jenna waited for the punchline. Waited for a telltale smirk, a wiggle of the corner of his lip, or a quiver of his eyelid.

  “I don’t love you,” Larry repeated. “I used you. Goodbye.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Larry shut the door after Jenna walked out. Thankfully, she hadn’t made a fuss or broken down into tears. She’d simply nodded and walked away—out of his life—gone.

  She was free now to play her fashion games without his interference. With her talent and drive, she could become the most sought after designer in the world, do runway shows in Paris, London, and New York. Own a fashion house, hobnob with princes and princesses—be a celebrity and marry a billionaire.

  Of course knowing Jenna was successful and free didn’t keep his own heart from disintegrating into a pool of blood. She hadn’t shed a single tear for him, which only proved she didn’t love him. She wanted to bolster his ego and give him confidence. For that, he should be thankful.

  But she didn’t love him. She left and never looked back, even when he’d rushed to the window to watch her walk away. Larry picked up Harley and turned on the TV.

  “At least I have you, buddy. She didn’t even try to ask for you back. Shows how little she cared.” He let the puppy lick his face as he rubbed the dog’s loose skin.

  It wasn’t going to be easy getting over Jenna. But it was the right thing to do. She was probably over it already. Well, duh, it had all been an act anyway. She got what she wanted.

  But whenever Larry closed his eyes, all he heard was her voice. You will never forget me. I love you enough to tell you this. Claim your life, Larry. Go. Claim it and live it.

  Easy for her to say when she had everything going for her. Young, gorgeous, blond, and talented. Her star was flying high, and no one would miss the fact that he wasn’t with her on Valentine’s Day. She probably had another man on standby anyway.

  He woke up his tablet and re-read the article written by her douchebag friend, Quint.

  Designer Jenna Hart is all attitude these days. Ever since her ex-boyfriend, Evan Edwards, allegedly stole her designs and ran off with the prestigious Esmé, she’s been slumming around with a mysterious man of superhero proportions. Evan may have his pretty boy face, but he’s no match for the beast who snatched five children from the flames of death.

  There’s a certain allure of the dark and the ugly—the Phantom of the Opera, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, the Beast—in contrast to innocence and pure beauty. Jenna Hart’s genius is in catching this contrast without seeming to exploit it. She playacted masterfully with the scarred firefighter, kissing him fervently, even stirring up rivalries in the firehouse when she bid ten thousand for a date with this monster—eclipsing her brother, Chief Connor Hart’s price of five thousand.

  What was Jenna Hart of Moonique Designs trying to prove? She’s already being hailed as the talent to outshine all others. The ‘shoot the moon’ risks she took on the runway nails bombshell with avant-garde. But she also understands the value of the viral—using social media to propel her name and that of her brand to the stratosphere.

  The iconic image of beauty’s face against the scarred jaws of the beast will not be soon forgot
ten.

  Larry stared at the picture, credited to Gustave, of him and Jenna, locked in an embrace, their eyes full of love and hope. It had caught his bad side, scarred and cratered like the surface of the moon.

  She said I should be proud of these scars. Wear them like badges. At least I’m not hiding behind a mask like the Phantom of the Opera.

  Larry ran to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Really, truly looked, studied, and examined his skin. Badges of courage. The orange peeled scars, the wrinkles, the ridges, the discoloration and the hairless spots. Badges of courage.

  Yet he’d failed that little boy. The one trapped behind the bars. He’d burned his hands trying to rip the bars from the wall. He’d come through a wall of flames and risked Connor’s life by going back. Where was his courage now?

  He hated the smell of smoke and refused to light up the grill. He could never go back into a burning building—not after smelling his own skin burn and tasting the flames licking over his body. That was the real reason he’d quit.

  Not the knee. That was repairable. Many men got surgery to fix it and went back to their duty. He’d also kept in shape, so he’d pass the physical tests, too.

  No, he was a big chicken deep inside. Jenna was right when she squawked at him, daring him to open the door.

  Little Harley whined and rubbed his nose against Larry’s leg. It was getting late, and he needed to go out for his last walk of the night.

  “You need to go or do you miss her, too?” Larry pulled on a shirt and attached Harley’s leash. The scent of Jenna’s perfume still lingered at the doorway. Larry took a deep breath and slapped his chest. “Time to man up and forget about her.”

  Harley only whined and stared at him with those sad, expressive eyes.

  “I’m not her project, and neither were you. But the good thing is, we have each other.”

  Man and dog stumbled their way down the stairs and into the dark, foggy night.

  * * *

  Tears washed Jenna’s face as she dashed into her parents’ home and ran for her bedroom. Both of her sisters were downstairs with her parents, Connor, and baby brother, Dale, who must have come home for the weekend from Berkeley.

  Most Saturday evenings were reserved for family dinner, except if someone had a date. Cait was always around, since her husband stayed most weekends at the firehouse, and Melisa’s boyfriend was an emergency room doctor and oftentimes had to work the weekends.

  But Connor and Dale? They were usually out and about. Why would they be home on a Saturday night, the evening before Valentine’s Day?

  “Jenna, is that you?” her mother called. “Come down and eat dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Jenna leaned against her bedroom door, quelling the hunger pangs.

  “How were the deliveries? Did they like their dresses?” Mother stopped outside her door.

  “They’re fine.”

  “Your sisters are here, come join us for coffee and some red velvet cake.”

  “Thanks, but I need to get some rest. I’ve had a long day.”

  Jenna waited by the door for her mother’s footsteps to descend the stairs before wrapping herself in a robe and grabbing a towel. She looked up and down the hall. The coast was clear, and she made it into the bathroom without meeting anyone.

  She was about to turn on the shower when she heard voices from the kitchen carry up the pipe. They were talking about her and Larry.

  Jenna put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it. She could hear them as clearly as if she were in the room. Every kid in the family knew about this quirk of the pipes. Many times, when she’d been in trouble, she’d snuck up here and sat quietly on the toilet while her parents discussed the punishment they’d mete out on her.

  Of course, nowadays, she was her own worst punishment.

  Connor’s voice boomed through the pipes. “She used him. Plain and simple. She got rave reviews. Everyone’s talking about how smart she was to contrast her beauty with Larry and that basset hound.”

  “Jenna’s not like that.” The fainter voice of her younger younger sister, Melisa, could barely be heard. “I’m sure she only wanted to give Larry’s confidence a boost.”

  “She hurt him badly,” Cait said. “Brian was at the station and he saw Larry come in, all distraught. He says Larry was shaking. He was so crazy, he ran off with that basset hound Jenna gave you.”

  “It’s okay,” Connor said. “That dog isn’t suited for a firehouse. He drags his own ears on the ground and trips over them.”

  “I always knew this would come to no good,” Cait declared. “I just can’t believe Jenna would use Larry to advance her career.”

  “We told her not to hurt him,” Mother said. “I’m sure she’s not even aware of it. She’s so beautiful, she has no idea what it’s like to be ordinary or plain.”

  Jenna leaned over her knees and sobbed. Her own family thought so poorly of her just because she was considered beautiful. Cait believed she had life easy because of her looks, and little Melisa settled for being kind and sweet, but shied away from dating and social events rather than to be overshadowed by her.

  As for Connor, he’d always warned her away from his men, as if she were some sort of man-eating monster. Dad made excuses for her and Mom tolerated her, alternately proud of her looks or censuring her and telling her to be more considerate to others who weren’t as good looking.

  Why had her entire life been centered around how she looked? Why did people judge her or assume she had an easy life? As if all her successes were based on her appearance and not talent or hard work?

  She cried loudly, hurting more than she’d ever been before—alone. Larry hated her and believed the worst in her. He never truly gave her a chance, because he couldn’t see past her beauty.

  “Jenna, Jenna, are you all right?” Her family’s voices called through the door.

  Before she could reply, someone jimmied the privacy lock and opened the door.

  Connor, Cait, Melisa, and Mom stuck their heads in, peering at her.

  “What happened?” Melisa reached for her.

  “Crap. She heard everything,” Cait said. “I thought I heard footsteps up above.”

  “Come talk to us.” Mother patted her back. “Have a mug of hot chocolate. Everything will be okay.”

  Jenna was in no mood for conversation, but she mutely followed her family down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  Dad and Dale were in the living room watching a game on TV, oblivious to the drama unfolding. Why couldn’t the rest of them be as uncommunicative as those two?

  Melisa put her arm around Jenna from one side as Cait held onto her from the other side.

  “Tell us what happened,” Cait said, guiding Jenna to a chair, while Mother heated chocolate and milk in the microwave.

  Jenna bit her knuckles and choked on her words, unable to breathe. “He ha-hates me.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t mean for Quint to write that slam against Larry,” Cait said. “Connor, can you go get Larry and tell him Jenna didn’t mean it?”

  “Wait, what’s this about Larry hating you?” Melisa pulled her chair close and rubbed Jenna’s back. “Larry doesn’t hate a soul. He’s the kindest, most gentle guy around. I’m sure he’s just hurt because of the article.”

  “I-I’m se-selling Grandma’s diamond ear-earrings.” Jenna managed to choke out. “Pay for Larry.”

  “You mean for the auction?” Connor asked.

  “You were only trying to help Larry,” Mother said. “Connor won’t make you pay.”

  “Right, you don’t have to pay,” Connor agreed. “We all know the bidding was rigged.”

  “Rigged?” Melisa cut in. “In what way?”

  Connor told everyone that he had asked Jenna to find a model willing to shill bid for Larry so he wouldn’t come up empty.

  “But, it looks like Jenna really wanted him,” Melisa said. “That’s why she topped the bid.”

  “I did want him, but he
doesn’t want me,” Jenna cried, unable to control her sobs. “He says he never loved me. He says he used me.”

  “He did?” Connor, Cait, and Mom exclaimed at the same time.

  Jenna covered her face and nodded. “He can’t believe I really care for him. He can’t see it.”

  “You’re in love with Larry?” Cait asked. “How come I didn’t see this coming?”

  “Larry’s a wonderful guy,” Melisa said. “I can’t believe he used you. Maybe he said that because he’s hurt.”

  “I’m hurt worse,” Jenna cried. “Doesn’t anyone care about me?”

  “I do, sugar cheeks.” Her father lumbered into the kitchen and gave Jenna a hug.

  “We all do,” Cait, Mom, and Melisa echoed, while Connor said, “Shucks, I never thought you could get hurt.”

  “She’s not the tinman,” Mother said. “Come now, let me give you a cupcake.”

  “You want me to talk to Larry?” Melisa said. “I’m sure he’ll listen to me.”

  “I’ll punch his lights out if he hurt you,” Connor said, while Dale handed her a tissue to wipe her eyes.

  Only Grady, her twin, was absent. Of course, he was in Australia fighting their summer brush fires.

  Mom stuck a heart-shaped red velvet cupcake on a plate for her, while Dale poured the hot chocolate. Melisa rubbed her back and Cait patted her arm. Dad kissed her cheek, and Connor paced around the kitchen like a caged lion, waiting for an order to attack.

  “That does it. I’m calling Larry to the carpet for this.” Connor whipped out his phone.

  “No, don’t call him.” Jenna reached for him and knocked the hot chocolate over. The scalding drink spilled onto her bare leg and she jumped up yelping with pain.

  She ran for the bathroom, thundering up the stairs, weeping and burning. Turning on the cold water, she jumped in the tub. More tears dribbled down her face, but she didn’t care. This was nothing compared to what Larry had gone through, burnt more than half his body, some of it third-degree requiring skin grafts.

  Besides, her heart hurt worse, far worse.