Leader of the Pack (The Dogfather Book 3)

by Roxanne St Claire

  Christian bent over and commanded “Gib laut!” to Jag, who barked in response.

  “I’ll tell you what’s different,” Andi said, leaning her head on Liam’s shoulder in a way that felt more real than anything she’d done all day. “That boy.”

  “Jag’s good for him.”

  “You have no idea, Liam. This is the happiest, the most outgoing, the most joyful I’ve seen that child since Jeff died.”

  “Dogs are like that for shy boys,” he said. “I swear to God I wouldn’t utter full sentences to anyone who didn’t have four legs when I was a kid.”

  “Really?” She inched back, looking up at him. “If I had known that, I would have…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted past him.

  “What is—”

  “Don’t turn,” she said harshly, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t look. It’s a woman with blond hair and one of those old-school prams you mentioned. It might be her. The one you think took a picture of my house. I don’t want her to know you noticed her then.”

  His body tensed, and his eyes gave a quick scan in both directions. He could see Christian and Jag. “Is she close to Christian?”

  “Opposite side. She’s coming down your left, nowhere near him.”

  “If she gets too close to him, I’ll put Jag on alert. Is it Nora?”

  “No, but…” Her body went weak under his hands, and she sighed audibly. “She’s still coming closer, down the path by the fence. Nowhere near Christian, but very close to us. Closer. Closer.” She looked up at him. “She’s coming now. She’s almost next to us.” She swallowed. “Doesn’t seem to notice us, but…” She pressed his shoulders harder. “I’m scared.”

  “No one is going to hurt him, Andi.” He put his hands on her waist to emphasize the truth of that by inching her slightly closer. “Or take him from you. No one is getting near that kid as long as I—and Jag—breathe.”

  “Oh.” Andi leaned into him, lifting her face. “Liam.” Before he had a chance to think another thought, her lips were on his, a soft, sweet, almost tentative kiss. “Thank you,” she breathed into his mouth. “Thank you.”

  He heard the stroller rumble by on the walkway next to him. He sneaked a peek, saw a woman who didn’t look anything like the one he’d seen yesterday, and she had a green stroller, not a blue one. “Unless Nora has an army of stroller-pushing henchwomen, we’re in the clear,” he whispered into her mouth, still less than a centimeter from his.

  Andi closed her eyes. “But in case she does….” She pressed her mouth into his again, no light kiss this time. She was serious, intentional, and hot. Her lips parted, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she angled her head to give him full access to her sweet mouth.

  The only reason he broke away was to check on Christian and Jag, who were currently sitting on the grass, coming as close to “talking” as a dog and a boy could.

  “What was that for?” he asked, ever the hopeful idiot dreaming that Andi had just had her own “breakthrough.” “She was past us when you kissed me.”

  “I know. But I see Nellie the librarian over there talking to Ned Chandler from the Bitter Bark Banner.”

  “So it was for show?”

  She sighed, long and slow. “I have to tell you something.”

  He waited, silent.

  “Nadine Scott’s probate attorney came to my office today,” she finally said. “This is real, Liam. There is a will, and it is complicated, and this is real.”

  He nodded, cupping her face to make her feel safe. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Christian. I swear.”

  “Thank you.” She inched back, giving him a look he couldn’t interpret and wasn’t sure he wanted to. “And thank you for Jag and…everything.”

  “You’ve thanked me enough, Andi.” Any more thanking and he’d be taking that one-way ticket back down the Andi Rivers Slippery Slope to Misery again.

  She blinked at the comment as if she hadn’t been expecting it. “Yeah, well, now you know why we have to convince everyone this is real.”

  Everyone but him. “Okay, then. Another kiss? A few more and Ned’ll put us on the front page of the Banner tomorrow.”

  She laughed softly. “That would expedite things.”

  Yeah, like the terminal heartache he was going to suffer when this thing was over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Liam’s words—you’ve thanked me enough—echoed in Andi’s head for twenty-four hours. During that time, she kept as much distance as she could, managed to stay alone in her own bed all night, and all day, she finished revisions on the B&B expansion design and took the blueprints over to Jane Gruen for approval. On Tuesday, she cancelled her class at the college, but it was only a review for the final. She’d have to go next Tuesday.

  Still, there’d been no sign of lawyers, stroller walkers, or Nora Scott, who seemed to have disappeared. Shane said Andi would likely be served with a summons of some kind from Nora, but that hadn’t happened yet.

  Tonight, she felt safe, driving to Waterford Farm for a midweek family dinner.

  She stole a glance at Liam, his hands somehow looking even stronger and more masculine wrapped around the tan leather steering wheel of his big Ford F-250. He’d been true to his word about never leaving her house. He’d somehow gotten clothes in the guest room/office and changed into khakis and a green polo shirt that fit snugly on his shoulders and showed off his biceps.

  When he’d come out to the kitchen, Christian took one look at him, signaled for Jag to come, then the two of them disappeared. Christian returned ten minutes later, having ditched his denim shorts and a Superman T-shirt for his dress-up khakis and a baby blue polo shirt.

  Andi didn’t comment on the wardrobe change, but she couldn’t help thinking about it.

  It was happening. Christian was getting attached to Jag and Liam. And there was nothing Andi could do about that as long as the Nora Scott threat loomed. The threat that had been complicated by stipulations that Andi had pointedly decided not to tell Liam.

  He had enough reasons to help her, and she would talk the legalities over with the lawyer Shane had arranged for her to meet tomorrow. No need to add anything to the weight on Liam’s broad shoulders. The future was her problem; he was doing enough to help her in the present.

  What she needed to be doing was keeping things easy and light and warm, especially with Christian occupied with Jag and quiet and happy in the backseat of Liam’s truck.

  “So, Wednesday night dinner is a Kilcannon family tradition, right?” she asked as they turned onto the last road on the way to the massive homestead where he and his siblings had grown up and now worked, with the exception of the youngest brother, Aidan, who was overseas in the military.

  “Whoever is in town usually shows up. It’s like Sunday dinner, without the drinking.”

  “I don’t remember much drinking at the Sunday dinner you took me to,” she said.

  He answered with a silent shrug.

  “Sorry, didn’t get that one,” she teased.

  “My mother had died less than a year before that,” he said. “It took us a while to get the festive back on Sundays.”

  “Oh.” She nodded sympathetically. “Of course. I sometimes forget because your dad seems like such a happy man.”

  “He’s mostly content,” he said. “Has a full life, a good business, a lot of family.”

  “But not happy?” she guessed, reading a little more into the subtext of his words. “I know you said they had a great marriage.”

  “Went way past great,” he said. “Ideal, really.”

  She heard a note of wistfulness that didn’t really surprise her, but made her wonder if it was caused by grieving for his mother or remembering his parents’ happy marriage. “Lucky.”

  “No luck involved,” he said simply. “They found each other, knew they were meant to be together forever, and made the most of every minute.”

  “That’s romant
ic,” she mused.

  “That’s life,” he countered.

  She tipped her head, frowning. “Not for everyone, Liam.”

  “I know.” He didn’t elaborate, but something told her there was a lot of emotion layered into those two words. It wasn’t the time to ask and, in fact, might never be. Especially now with the gated entrance to Waterford Farm in sight and a night full of the Kilcannon family swirling about and making decisions for her.

  No, she corrected herself. Helping her keep her son. Which was all that mattered. Not Liam’s distance, not his subtext and indecipherable emotions, not the fact that she’d thanked him enough. Just Christian.

  “You’re going to meet a lot of dogs today,” she said, turning around to look at her son, who was sitting with his arm around Jag. The dog sat erect, at attention, and didn’t seem to mind the little fingers that somehow made their way into his ears.

  “S’okay. I like dogs.”

  “You’ll also meet a lot of people,” Liam added.

  “Oh, well. I don’t like people.”

  Liam choked a laugh and held a fist over his shoulder for Christian to give him a knuckle tap. “I feel ya, kid.”

  “Why don’t you like people, Liam?” Christian asked with that sweet guilelessness that only a six-year-old could pull off.

  “They want to talk. Not big on talking.”

  Christian’s jaw dropped like he’d found his kindred spirit. “Me neither. Do I have to talk to people tonight?”

  “Not if you don’t want to,” Liam said.

  “Well, you have to be polite,” Andi added.

  “How polite?”

  They both laughed, but Andi gave him a warning look. “Be polite to everyone you meet.”

  He squirmed. “Do I have to shake people’s hands?”

  Liam glanced at Christian in his rearview mirror as he pulled into the long drive that led back to the house and canine training facility. “All you have to do is say hello, thank my dad for dinner, be sure to listen to Gramma Finnie, but her Irish accent is thick and she can be hard to understand. Oh, don’t let Shane make you laugh so hard you spit your food out. All that and you’re golden.”

  “But no, you know, long talking with people?”

  “Only to the dogs.”

  “And you,” he added, smiling at Liam.

  Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh little precious boy. This male-bonding thing was definitely happening again.

  Andi shifted in her seat and fought the urge to tell Liam to stop, but what was she going to say? Stop being so nice to my son? Stop making him like you? Stop making him comfortable and filling a void and being exactly what he needs?

  Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t do those things when he laid out his guidelines?

  “Look at those dogs!” Christian shot forward so hard his seat belt pulled taut as they turned into the circular drive between the house and the training pen. “What are they doing all lined up like that?”

  “Oh, it’s graduation for our latest obedience training class,” Liam said.

  “I graduated from kindergarten last year!” he announced.

  “Then you’ll love this, Christian,” Liam said. “It’s one of the highlights of being at Waterford. Shane’ll let you give out the diploma-shaped dog bones if we get over there fast enough.” He parked the truck and popped open the door, climbing out to help Christian down from the high step.

  For a moment, Andi didn’t move, a little stunned by all the emotional land mines that littered this landscape. Doggie graduation. Waterford highlights. Family fun.

  But Liam grinned at her as if they should bask in the moment of Christian’s joy.

  “Can I take him to the training area?” Liam asked, obviously sensing her hesitation.

  “Yeah, of course.” She flipped off her seat belt and her silly concerns. “Let’s do that.”

  “Not you.”

  She blinked at him, not following.

  He pointed over her shoulder toward the house. “Uh, I think the women’s welcoming committee is waiting for you for a different kind of event.”

  She turned to look at the back porch of the huge pale yellow clapboard house with rich green shutters and multiple chimneys. As she’d had the first time she’d seen the home, Andi felt a visceral reaction to the sight of such a grand North Carolina Southern beauty that touched her architect’s soul. She never failed to appreciate the asymmetry of the house, which somehow broke a lot of rules but always reminded Andi of a beautiful older woman with just enough flaws to be unique and enough wrinkles to be real.

  But she didn’t take note of the cantilevered transoms or the wraparound porch today. All she saw were three, four, five—no, six—women ranging in age from thirteen to eighty-six, each one holding a champagne flute.

  Slowly, she opened the truck door to get a better look.

  “Let’s go, Andi Rivers,” Chloe called, lifting her glass in a mock toast.

  “Where are we going?”

  Molly took a few steps down, a wide smile beaming, chocolate curls bouncing with each move. “We’re planning your wedding, girl.”

  Andi swallowed, then glanced over her shoulder at Liam, who was taking it all in with, of course, a scowl of utter disapproval or disgust or dis-something that revealed how he really felt about this charade. No amusement, no secret pleasure, certainly no happiness.

  “We are?” she asked, her voice sounding unsure.

  “Dress, music, flowers, attendants, you name it,” Molly said, getting closer. “We thought we’d break some bubbly and make a party out of it.”

  Darcy came, too, in a half run with her blond mane flying and a white ball of puppy fur at her heels. “It’s going to be a blast, Andi!” she promised.

  A blast.

  Kind of like hitting another emotional land mine.

  * * *

  Liam had to stuff disappointment away and focus on Christian. There wasn’t time to wallow in the thud of sadness that Andi was going through the motions of planning a wedding without one molecule of whatever it was a bride should feel.

  Instead, he urged Christian along, sensing the boy’s inner battle between wanting to explode into a run and get in with those dogs and fearing that so many strange people turned and looked at him.

  Liam knew what shy felt like. He knew the frustration of not knowing what to say and not wanting to say it even if he did. He knew the burning desire to fade into the background and observe rather than be the center of attention.

  With one hand on Christian’s shoulder, he led the child to the training area, letting him clutch Jag’s leash like a lifeline.

  “What grade are they graduating from?” he asked Liam.

  “It’s not a grade as much as a program. These dogs and their owners come and stay for two weeks to learn advanced obedience training. Some of the people might be trying to become professional dog trainers. Some just want really good dogs.” And a vacation at Waterford, but he didn’t add that.

  They stepped inside the pen, and immediately, Christian tugged Jag to the back, leaning against the fence.

  “You can get closer,” Liam said gently. “Shane will let you help him hand out diploma treats.”

  He shook his head solemnly. “I want to watch.”

  Man, he understood that. Well enough that he’d never push Christian to do what he didn’t want to do. Liam knew that life, family, and the love of a few good dogs rounded out those introvert edges eventually, but at six? Let him be shy.

  “I know this young man.” Dad’s voice came from behind them, just as Shane was announcing a border collie named Bonnie who’d won Best Fetcher.

  As Dad reached them, Christian turned slowly, looking up at Liam’s tall father.

  “Welcome to Waterford, Christian,” Dad said, tousling the boy’s hair. “I hear you and Jag are best friends.”

  “Yeah. I mean, yes, sir.”

  Dad smiled at the added title. “He can stay next to you at dinner, I promise. Would you like that?”
r />   “Really?” Christian lit up, not realizing he’d already fallen under the Dogfather’s spell. “I’d love that. Right, Jag?”

  Jag nudged Dad with his nose, proving that neither man nor beast was immune to the older man’s charms.

  “You want to stay out here for a few minutes while I take Liam into the house?” Dad asked Christian.

  “I think I should stick around with him, Dad,” Liam said quickly, putting a hand on Christian’s shoulder. “Until he gets used to things. Or bring him in with us if you want to talk.”

  “I do need to talk to you, Liam,” Dad said. “It’s important, but—”

  “I’m used to things.” Christian looked up at Liam, all blue-eyed sincerity. “I have Jag. We can stay and watch. I won’t move, I promise.”

  Liam considered that, knowing the kid needed a little freedom and that he couldn’t have been safer if he’d been locked in a tower. “Okay,” Liam agreed, but signaled Garrett from across the pen. “If you need anything, you ask my brother Garrett.”

  “I have Jag,” he repeated.

  “Jag won’t take you to the bathroom if you need to go.” Liam leaned down. “But you can take him.”

  Christian giggled a little, and when Garrett came over and took a handoff, Liam went with his dad to talk business.

  “I know I’ve been out of pocket,” Liam said as they crossed the grass and headed to the house, already sensing what this was about. “You don’t need to go off hunting for another K-9 trainer, Dad. I was able to work with Fritz and Zelda.”

  “This isn’t about Fritz and Zelda,” his father said when they stepped into the kitchen, immediately getting a whiff of something delicious.

  Crystal, the housekeeper who’d worked for the family for at least the last ten years, turned from the sink to give him a warm greeting. “Hello, Liam,” she called, waving a wooden spoon. “Made your favorite pot roast tonight.”

  “I smell it, Crystal, thank you.”

  “Big night tonight, right?”

  He glanced at her. Was it? “Wednesday night dinner?” She didn’t live in the house and didn’t usually cook dinners during the week since Dad, Darcy, and Gramma were the only actual residents here and they could fend for dinners. But Crystal always cooked on Wednesday nights when the Kilcannons who didn’t live here anymore came to eat, so this didn’t seem like that big a deal, right?