Duke, page 18
“Yes.”
“Yes,” she answered.
He walked around and opened her door as a car pulled up along the street. “Duke Falkner?” A big man stepped out of the driver’s side of a black sleek car.
Duke stepped in front of Sage. “Yes. Who wants to know?”
The man said nothing but turned and opened the passenger’s side door. A small, well-groomed Löwchen wearing a pink bow in her hair hopped out of the car and stood at the man’s side. When he walked toward Duke, the dog followed.
“This is your next client.” He held the leash toward Duke.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Duke barked and Sage grinned at the comparison.
“I will be back in thirty-five days after Malcolm Voci vacation to pick up the dog. If you keep her alive, consider your debt erased.” The man thrust the leash at Duke. “I don’t have all day.”
Duke took the leash acting as if he’d never seen a dog in his life.
Sage bent down. “What’s your name, cutie?” The little Löwchen wagged her tail at Sage and leaned into her hand. Sage slipped the tag over on her collar. “Pilot.” She laughed. “That’s a masculine name for such a little princess.” She stood as the car door slammed shut and the vehicle sped away.
Duke watched the car leave, looking dumbfounded. “What the hell just happened?” He looked down at Pilot and up to Sage.
She rubbed his arm and reached up and kissed his cheek. “It looks like your retirement is going to start with dog sitting.”
“That’s not a thing.”
She nodded. “Yes it is. You better just hope she’s house trained.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“THIS IS WHAT they call a get out of jail party,” Celeste looked around the crowd in Duke’s backyard. It was nothing like Sage’s high-rise condo and nothing like her moms quaint house either. Instead, a blend of both which in Sage’s eyes was perfection. She’d been thrilled to move her belongings in with his.
“Mother, no,” Sage hissed, her eye doing a quick scan of the tables and gazebo, finding Hale standing by his son. “Don’t call it that.”
“Isn’t that what it is?”
Sage glared at her as she passed her a glass of wine. “I don’t exactly know,” she admitted. “I mean, if you were in jail, would you want to come out and celebrate with strangers?”
“He certainly didn’t laze around behind bars,” Sally Jones, one of the gossipy women from her mother’s inner circle said. “Look at that man’s form.”
“By form, she means ass,” Gracie Jenkins, another one of her mom’s friends added. “That tight piece of ass needs a woman to pounce like a lion cat in heat.”
Sage’s nose scrunched up as unwanted images of petite, little old Gracie pouncing on Hale assailed her mind. First of all, Sage didn’t know all that much about the man besides having been wrongfully convicted of his children’s deaths. From Duke’s childhood memories, he’d still been an ass of a father. What kind of a man would he be after being in jail?
“Meow,” the third woman at their table, Mary Bench chimed in, throwing her claws through the air. Take them out of their sweet coffee corner in the shop and out comes a wild pack of hungry hyenas. Hungry for men ... or at least one man.
Sage finished filling their wine glasses and decided she’d bring over a virgin bottle her next trip. Clearly they’d had enough to drink.
“I wonder if he had any pen pals from prison,” Gracie’s low voice squeaked when she spoke. “You know, like those women who are attracted to men in jail.”
Should Sage tell them she was pretty sure they all fell into that category. Except her mom. She had the good sense not to lust after a man who’d been in trouble with the law—like Dean.
“He didn’t,” Celeste said, and Sage nearly gave herself whiplash turning to face her.
“How do you know?”
“He told me.” Had her mother painted her fingernails her special red for this event?
“When?” Sage’s free hand flew to her hip and her eyebrows drew together.
“The other night when he invited me to his get out of jail party.” She held her finger up at her daughter. “His words, not mine.”
Sage moved in close to her mother’s side. “Why are you talking with him on the phone?”
“Why are you judging him?”
Sage straightened. “I’m not judging him.”
“I wonder if he’s over there judging you about your drug days and wondering if you’re good enough to marry his son.”
“How would he know about those days?” Sage gritted out from a fake smile while lifting a glass of sparkling water to her lips.
“Because I told him. You know, he’s going to be your family once you and Duke tie the knot. The grandfather to your kids—”
Sage choked on her water. Grandfather! Was he grandfather material?
“My grandfather never looked like that. Come here, papa,” Mary curled her finger.
Sage needed to get away from these ladies before she heard details she didn’t want to hear.
DUKE WATCHED HIS FIANCÉE rush away from the table of Celeste’s gossip group in a panic and grinned. He might not have heard the ladies conversation, but he could see who they were ogling. Sage was still adjusting to his father.
He flipped the last hamburger before he handed the chrome spatula to Stone to finish and followed his wife to the bar.
He took the wine bottle out of her hand. “Follow me,” he whispered through her hair as he pulled her into their house. Their house. He liked the sound of that.
But once he had her alone, she turned on him and poked his chest. “You dad is having conversations with my mom.”
“O-kay.”
“It’s not okay. Don’t use the word ‘okay’, that’s our word”—her hand flipped between them—“and it’s a good word that you’re ruining by associating it with your dad hitting on my mom.”
He blinked as he tried to register what the hell she was talking about. One month off the job and he felt his acuteness lacking. Although, he also had a few beers in him.
“I think he’s trying to sleep with my mom, and from what Gracie, Mary, and Sally are saying, he’s the hottest grandfather they know and they’d all like a chance to pounce on his tight ass.”
He hadn’t lost all his perception. “He’s going be a grandfather?”
She stilled. “What?”
“Is that what you’re saying?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, your exact words were ‘he’s the hottest grandfather’.”
“We’re talking about cutting your father off from talking to my mother before they start shacking up. We can’t have two Falkner and Ellises shacking up. And besides, my mother’s already had the bad boy, she doesn’t need another one.”
Duke shook his head, loving her refusal to answer his one simple question. He folded his hands around hers and pulled her closer to him. “Sage Ellis, are you pregnant?”
She smiled. “It took you long enough to figure it out.”
He kissed her before he lifted her in the air and spun her in a circle. “We’re pregnant,” he said, as he set her back down.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Which means we have eight months to do everything on your bucket list. A new baby means we won’t have any time to ourselves and we’ve really just started with our relationship and—”
He kissed her again. “My bucket list is right here with you, our family and friends, and our future.” He rubbed her middle.
“Aren’t you the smooth talker.”
“Not so much, but ...” He pulled her into the living room and picked up his guitar. She sat cross-legged beside him as he began to strum the slow and easy beat of “One Blank Step,” but he spoke from his heart. Every word of this song reminded him of each day with Sage, each new path, each new thing he’d learned. Their baby would be another venture he had no idea how to do, but he would learn it with this woman.
“Every day with you is an adventure I would never miss. I love you, Sage Ellis.”
“I love you too.”
They leaned forward and right before their lips met, a fluff ball of hair pounced between them.
“Pilot!” they shouted in unison, but the affectionate dog bounced up and down and there was no way Duke could be angry with her. She was beginning to grow on him.
“When are they coming for her?” Sage asked. Before he could answer, he noticed she had already been distracted and was petting Pilot and talking to her in a baby voice.
Duke grabbed Sage’s hand, hoisted her to her feet, and planted a hard and hot kiss on her lips.
“If they don’t get her soon, she can be our ring bearer.”
THE END
Please enjoy a preview of the first book in The Bad Boys of Willow Valley, DAX.
By The Lake Series
The McAdams Sisters
Lakeshore Secrets (Book One)
Lakeshore Legend (Book Two)
Lakeshore Love (Book Three)
Lakeshore Candy (Book Four)
Lakeshore Lyrics (Book Five)
The Caliendo Resort
Sunset Thunder (Book One)
Sunset Rivalry (Book Two)
Sunset Sail (Book Three)
Sunset Flare (Book Four)
Sunset Shelter (Book Five)
Bad Boys of Willow Valley
Dax (Book One)
Stone (Book Two)
Duke (Book Three)
Reed (Book Four) coming soon
Hawk (Book Five) coming soon
Enjoy Next:
DAX
Bad Boys of Willow Valley
Book One, Dax Colyn
By The Lake Series
Shannyn Leah
Chapter One
DAX COLYN PARKED his turbocharged, jacked-up Ford truck alongside the front of the thriving restoration shop. He rolled the passenger’s window down to admire his truck’s jet-black paint job reflecting off the mirrored glass windows. Then his eyes took in the remarkably fascinating sign hung at the front of the building which he’d made himself from car parts lying around the shop. In the evening the back lit up and highlighted the name “Colyn & Son”. Dax couldn’t be more proud to have constructed the only restoration business in Willow Valley with his father.
For as long as Dax could remember, his father, Rowdy, had always had a passion for re-building cars. He’d reconstructed car after car and flipped them for a profit. Dax remembered helping him work on them from a young age all the way through his middle school years. While his friends had been playing sports, Dax had played in grease.
So it hadn’t been a surprise that Dax had jumped at the opportunity to be partners when his father had presented a business plan to open Colyn & Son Restoration. However, at the time, Dax had only been in his first year of high school, and his stern father had one stipulation: graduate high school and obtain a college degree first. Dax had nailed both of those while working all his extra hours in the shop.
He’d acquired his hard working gene from his dad, who’d recently been promoted to fire chief at the local fire station where Dax volunteered. His dad still managed to find time to work at their shop but no longer had enough time to enjoy and unwind with his son and a good frosty beer at Buck’s Bar. That was okay with Dax, though. He often found other—more satisfying—ways to unwind at night.
The bar on the main street, across from the beach, was known to attract tourists. Most locals didn’t step foot inside the wild place, but it was an easy place to hook up with attractive women looking for casual, one-night stands. Now that it was September, the pickings were slim, but Dax hadn’t been complaining last night.
Now, with the sun barely up—he’d always been an early riser no matter what—he rolled the window back up and cut the roaring engine. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he took a deep breath and battled his pounding headache. He hurt everywhere. But, damn, it had been worth it.
Ready to start his morning, he grabbed the duffle bag he’d left in his backseat for mornings just like this and climbed out of the truck. Squinting against the morning sun, he slipped his sunglasses down from his head and slid them over his eyes.
As he pressed the lock button on his key fob, he recalled the evening he’d just spent with a spicy redhead. He’d parted ways with her only minutes earlier but the flashes of their night together eased his headache. Still, he’d wished he could have pounded an hour or more in the gym and grabbed a quick shower and well-needed pot of coffee before coming to work, but the fire station was located conveniently beside the Colyn shop—his dad had planned that well—and had a well-equipped gym, showers and coffee that wasn’t half bad. Starting his day here instead of his condo would make it easier to prepare for dealing with the new high school co-op student Rowdy had arranged to be Dax’s shadow for the next twelve weeks at the fire station. Dax didn’t think babysitting a co-op student was a good use of his time but he couldn’t say no to the chief.
“Those shades aren't going to hide the fun you had last night.” His buddy, and volunteer fire fighter, Hawk slapped his shoulder. “I give you credit for trying to disguise your hangover, but I'm guessing no one will miss your blood shot eyes.”
Dax chuckled, tossing his bag over his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing up so early? You don't have a co-op student to babysit.”
He shrugged. “Maybe your morning routine is rubbing off on me.” He looked Dax over. “Last night’s clothes. No perspiration. I see you didn't take your morning run on the beach.” He gave an approving nod. “You hookup with Red?”
Dax smirked at him. “I wasn't walking away from that piece of ass.”
“She wasn't walking away from you.”
That was true. Red hadn't been shy about her motives the night before. Dax liked a straightforward woman who wasn’t afraid of her sexuality and who told him what she wanted.
“Jealous?”
Hawk shook his head. “I didn't go home alone. You’re not the only one who can catch a nice piece of ass.”
Dax laughed, but the motion only caused more pain. The gym was going to kill him.
AT NINE O’CLOCK SHARP, Dax stood in the apparatus bay between two fire engines. His body still felt the burn of his workout, but his mind felt more clear.
He folded his arms across his thick chest, ignoring the objection of his sore muscles, especially his shoulder, where a previous injury still swelled. Narrowing his eyes on his shadow for the next twelve weeks, he sneered at the teenager’s unsuitable attire. The rusty-haired boy—“Rusty” would be a good nickname for him—might get away with not wearing steel toe boots and letting his pants hang so low they looked ready to fall off his ass at school, but not at the fire station. There were co-op safety regulations that clearly stated the clothing requirement the boy had to follow and he’d obviously not paid them much attention. The program had limited positions for kids and it aggravated Dax for one of them to show up without reading the placement outline.
Dax rubbed his scruffy jaw line and asked, “Did you read the placement outline?”
The boy nodded, his long, wavy bangs falling over his eyes. He made a small flipping motion with his head to toss his hair back before saying, “Yes, sir.”
Yes, sir, his ass.
“Go home and read it again. If you can figure out what you’ve done wrong, I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning at the same time. If not, don’t bother coming back.”
The boy blinked.
Dax arched his eyebrows. “Do you need me to show you the front door?” He glanced beyond the boy where the large four-fold doors stood wide open looking out onto a side street of the main.
Another short shake of the head. “No, sir.” The boy looked around as though one of the other men would swoop in and save him. But this station was half volunteer and half paid, so there weren’t as many around at this hour. This kid better get used to managing his own shit because life wasn’t all a hand out.
Finally, the boy turned and stalked out of the bay, his pants hanging way below his backside. Dax felt bad for the poor bastard whose daughter this boy pursued.
AVA ANDERSON PARKED her car down the street from the local fire station. She popped open the trunk and rummaged around the teal and white beach bag packed with all the necessities for an afternoon at the beach. She swapped out her work high heels to a pair of comfortable sandals and then rummaged some more through the bag to confirm she’d packed an extra change of clothes so she could also get rid of her constricting skirt and blazer.
Breathing in the warm September air, she enjoyed the short walk to the station. These hot end-of-summer-weather days were Ava’s favorite. They promised one more day of soaking up the sun and splashing in the water with her daughter before the winter weather came about.
Stopping in front of the station where the doors were wide open and bright red fire trucks towered inside the bay, she saw her daughter had beaten her to the water part. Soaked from her blonde damp curls to her sandaled feet, the six-year-old was quite a sight. The girl didn’t notice her mother as she dipped a sponge bigger than both her hands in a soapy pail of water before raising it as high as she could reach on the truck. Ava smiled as she watched more water dripping down her daughter’s arms than meeting the red paint.
Ava took off her sunglasses and stepped inside the bay. “I thought we might go to the beach today.”
Olivia’s wide eyes turned in the direction of Ava. “Mommy!” She tossed the sponge in the direction of the bucket, missing completely, but not noticing it flop onto the wet cement as she barreled toward her mother.
Ava bent down for a wet hug, cringing as the liquid made dark imprints on her navy clothes. “Were you good for Grandpa?”
Olivia pulled away. “Yes. Can Grandpa come with us to the beach?”
“Grandpa’s an old man. He’d wrinkle into a prune sitting around the beach.” Behind her daughter, Ava watched as Rowdy Colyn picked up the wayward sponge and tossed it into the bucket. He hardly fit the description of an “old man.” His hair may have peppered silver over the years, but as fire chief he maintained a daily regimen of exercise for a fit and healthy body.
