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

  The door swung open and Jenna’s heart warmed over at the sight of man and dog. Larry held Little Treat with one bulging arm. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face and the ripped tank he wore was damp.

  “Were you working out?” Jenna stepped toward the kitchen and peeked into one of the open doors. It was set up like a gym with a weight bench, stair stepping machine, and racks of dumbbells and barbells.

  “Almost done. You’re early.” He sniffed at the scent of fresh, warm bread. “That your mom’s bread?”

  “Sourdough with her original starter yeast, gathered in the last century.” She smiled and petted Little Treat who licked her wrist.

  “Give me a sec to put away the weights and I’ll be with you.” He swiped his massive hand over his brow and grinned.

  He was always so happy to see her, and it showed on his face and entire attitude. She patted his arm, wishing she could tip-toe up and kiss him, but it was for the better that they didn’t take their relationship further.

  She wouldn’t hurt him. Couldn’t bear the thought, and life with her would be incredibly complicated, what with her schedule and the demands of her job.

  He placed the puppy at her feet and sauntered to his weight room, giving Jenna a full back view of his muscular legs, wide back, and delicious tight behind. Jenna swallowed drool and reached over to pet Little Treat, who, of course was drooling for a different reason.

  A few minutes later, Larry changed into a T-shirt and sweat pants and grabbed the leash. He eyed Jenna, who of course, was dressed fashionably—calf-height boots, pencil jeans, and a vintage boho crop top with a fringe over her waist.

  The heat of his gaze sent prickling sensations zinging through her, but she held her breath and turned away from him to restrain herself from climbing over him. Larry was, after all, her brother’s best buddy.

  “Okay, little guy,” Larry said to Treat. “Let’s take those stairs slowly so you don’t trip.”

  Jenna chuckled to herself. “Puppies don’t do slow. Not even a basset hound.”

  Little Treat bounced circles around Larry as he clipped the leash and as soon as he opened the door, the dog tugged and lurched forward. Of course, he got nowhere.

  “You’re going to have to put him in obedience school,” Jenna said. She bounded after Larry and Treat who once again, undulated down the steps like a caterpillar on steroids, only to step on his long dangling ear and yelp, surprised at the sudden pain.

  Larry picked the dog up and checked his ears, crooning to comfort the puppy. Pain forgotten, Little Treat wiggled to get free and bounded happily with them toward the park.

  Jenna found herself the object of Larry’s attention as he quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Aren’t you the one putting him in obedience school? He’s your dog, isn’t he?”

  “Uh, yes, about Treat, or Harley. Has Connor warmed up to the idea of a puppy?”

  Larry scratched his beard shadow and hummed. “I’m only the caretaker. You’re the one who wanted to use the puppy as inducement for him to participate in your fashion show.”

  “When did I tell you that?” Jenna sucked in a wet breath. “You didn’t say anything to Connor, did you?”

  “Kept mum for you, darling.” He grinned, a little too self-satisfied, and Jenna found herself liking the endearment a little too much.

  “I know what.” She snapped her fingers as if she had a bright idea. “Let’s gift Little Treat, or Harley, to Connor for Valentine’s Day. In the back of his mind, he thinks I’m going to set him up with a date, but wouldn’t it shock him when the ‘date’ happens to be a puppy?”

  “It might not be a good idea to give someone a dog if they don’t expect it.” Larry’s voice was grumpy, as if he’d had a brighter idea. “That’s how pets end up at the rescues, or even worse, the pound. Did you have a contingency plan? Like if Connor didn’t want the dog? What then?”

  “Uh, well, I, uh, thought, my cousin, I don’t know.” Jenna splayed her hands out. “I’m so stupid. I didn’t think.”

  “I’m surprised the lady at the rescue center gave Treat to you in the first place. What did you tell her?”

  “That my brother, the Fire Chief at Station 22 was looking for a dog. She loves firefighters so she handed me Little Treat, said he was the friendliest one of the bunch and has an iron stomach. He’ll eat anything.”

  Larry let Little Treat off leash in the meadow surrounded by hedges. The puppy bounced from tree trunks to the colorful tulip beds, his nose working a mile a minute, sniffing out the entire palette of scents in the park. Above them stood the restored remains of one of two historic windmills, its sails turning slowly in the sea breeze.

  “For the record, you’re not stupid.” Larry touched Jenna’s arm, comforting her. “Many people don’t think things through when it comes to pets. They go with their emotion and forget the reality. Let’s swing by the station on the way back and see if Connor falls in love with this little bugger.”

  “You’re not mad at me?” Jenna leaned closer, staring up at him with the windmill framed behind him. His hair tossed in the wind, and his shoulders were so broad, it appeared as if he were balancing the entire windmill on him, like Atlas holding up the earth.

  “Why should I be? You’re a wonderful sister. I’m sure Connor will appreciate your intentions.” His lips were too kissable, and his words soothed her like a gentle balm.

  “I hope so. He’s already allowing his fire crew to help in the fashion show. You can’t believe what a relief it is. I have a budget and with the guys taking care of security and escort duty, I don’t have to hire male models. Besides, even dressed in tuxedos, they’ll be a big draw, and we had to get a larger auditorium for the fashion show and bachelor auction because all the tickets sold out.”

  “I’m glad for you.” He brushed her windswept hair from her face. “It’s all going to work out. I’ll do whatever I can to make it successful.”

  “You and Harley are good luck for me.”

  “Harley? You’ve decided to use my name for him? Finally?” Larry’s big brown eyes dilated as a sweet smile crinkled his eyelids.

  “Harley’s much more manly than Little Treat. Besides, he does look like he’s wearing a motorcycle jacket.”

  “Well then, you wouldn’t mind being my treat, would you?” He tilted her chin up and burned her with his adoring gaze.

  She held back, waiting, wanting him to make the move, but if he took forever, she’d have to hurry things along. She was only in town until the day after Valentine’s Day. She’d already let three days slip by and she hadn’t asked him to be her date to the Valentine’s Dinner and Dance. It was a thousand bucks a plate, and tickets were going fast, especially since they’d announced the bachelor auction.

  Many of the city’s wealthy women assumed they’d be squired by one of the firefighters, and the website was already inundated with comments and dibs for each of the men featured, including Larry.

  She licked her lips nervously and tried to quell her rapid breathing as a new thought claimed her brain. Could she outbid a private equity investor or a neurosurgeon for Larry? What if he weren’t her date after all? What if Irina wasn’t the only bidder?

  Jenna’s heart sank and she closed her eyes, swallowing the panicked flutter of her rapid heartbeat. “I’ll be your treat, Larry. Any time. Would you like to—”

  Her words were cut off by his powerful lips, rough with his manly beard shadow, crushing into hers. Jenna opened her mouth and drank him in, winding her hands around his neck. Her knees weak, she hung on as she savored the slow and sensual way he kissed, wondering if it mirrored his lovemaking—burning hot and full of care.

  To her, Larry was more than just a physical wonder. Inside that bear-like physique was a man who’d never hurt her intentionally, who’d take care of the weak and the needy, who’d protect her and Harley and his friends with everything he had.

  A true hero. She’d never met one before. None of the flashy men in the fash pack cared about anyone othe
r than their own appearance. It was dog eat dog, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. Tit for tat. Friends in your face, and back biting out of earshot.

  Not Larry. Larry was the real deal. The real goods. The real thing.

  Jenna kissed him like she’d never kissed anyone before. Freely, easily, lovingly, and above all, with a deep aching in her heart, knowing she’d have to choose his world or hers. There would be no compromise, because the fashion world was a cruel and icy place with no room for anything less than perfect.

  He palmed both sides of her face and drew back, breathing hard, but grinning so wide, even the scarred half of his face appeared smooth.

  “Whatever you were going to ask me,” he said, in a low voice that melted her knees all the way to her heart. “It’s yes. The answer’s yes.”

  “You’ll be my Valentine?” Gah. How could this be the first words from her mouth.

  “Yes, I’ll be your Valentine, and so will Harley. We’re both yours as long as you want us.”

  She jumped up and snatched his lips with hers. No one had ever given her a blank check, and boy was she going to take her time cashing it.

  * * *

  “Woof, woof, wwaarooh,” Harley barked and squealed, as if guarding Larry and Jenna from an intruder.

  Larry looked up from the kiss first, and his muscles tensed as prickles danced between his shoulder blades. They were not alone.

  Sure enough, a man stood not ten feet from them snapping pictures with a giant, professional looking camera.

  Larry shielded Jenna with his body. “Are you going to erase those pictures or am I going to do it for you?”

  The man ignored him and turned to take a shot at his scarred side, so Larry rushed him. He grabbed the man’s shoulder and twisted the camera from his hands.

  “Hey, get your hands off me,” the man said. He was one of those slick pretty boys with the upside down triangular fuzz under his lip and a pierced tongue.

  “I’m going to hand your camera to my girlfriend and have her erase every shot you took of us. Then I’ll give it back to you.”

  Harley growled a low, rumbling but cute purring sound as Larry gave the camera to Jenna.

  “Jenna?” the man said. “I thought it was you.”

  Jenna flipped the camera to review mode. “How many times have I told you, I’m off limits.”

  The man pointed sharply at Larry. “Is he the reason you haven’t been returning my texts?”

  She didn’t answer because she was intently deleting the pictures he’d taken of them.

  “I don’t think the lady wants to speak to you.” Larry jutted himself toward the man who was a head shorter than him. Harley also puffed out his little doggy chest and barked.

  “She will.” The twerp lowered his glasses and glared at Larry. “Monique hired me to do the photoshoot.”

  “Only because you’re cheap.” Jenna shoved the camera at the man. “If you’ll excuse us, I have a dog to walk.”

  She grabbed Harley’s leash and bent to buckle it onto his collar.

  The photographer leered at her backside and said, “Is it my imagination or have you gained weight?”

  Anger boiled over Larry and he blocked the man’s view of Jenna. “Leave her alone.”

  “And just who are you? Her bodyguard?” The man sneered and made a point to stare at Larry’s scarred face. “Because I know she’s not your girlfriend.”

  “She is who I say she is.” Larry almost growled along with Harley who was making motorcycle sounds, but cowering between Larry’s legs.

  “Then join the club.” The man actually had the gall to stick out his hand to shake. “I’m Gustave from Paris, the city of lovers. There’s Quint, the Fashion News editor, and Max, the personal trainer, and sometimes, for old times sake, she hooks up with Evan, but not since he stole her designs and won last year’s Esmé Awards.”

  Pow. Larry had never punched a man in anger, but there was always a first time for everything.

  Chapter Ten

  “Oh, no!” Jenna flew toward Gustave’s ragdoll body on the grass. Terror rose in her heart, and she desperately hoped the photographer wouldn’t sue Larry.

  Gustave’s brother was an attorney, and the man was petty enough to sue his own mother when she ran over his camera equipment. Of course, he’d just photographed her playing tongue hockey with a lover, but still—sue his own mother?

  “Larry, you have to revive him. What if you killed him? You’re going to be in so much trouble.”

  “He got what was coming.” Larry knelt on the ground beside her and checked the man’s pulse. “I hope I didn’t hurt him too much.”

  “I can’t believe you punched him. You’re supposed to be saving lives, not hurting people.”

  “What about what he said about you?” Larry pinpointed her, his face drawn in anger.

  “I never said I was an angel.” Jenna grabbed the photographer by the lapels and shook him. “What if we have to call 9-1-1?”

  “He’s still breathing. I hope he doesn’t have a head injury.”

  “Where’d you hit him?”

  “Jaw, but I didn’t even break it. I shouldn’t have hit him,” Larry conceded. “I’m sorry, Jenna. I lost it when he said he and those other guys were your lovers.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he said. You can’t be going around hitting people. I’ll call Connor. But this doesn’t look good. If you gave him a concussion, you could be going to jail.” Jenna opened her purse and extracted a bottle of water and her cell phone.

  Larry took the water bottle and doused Gustave’s face. His mascara ran down the sides of his eyes, and he shook his head and sputtered.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake.” Jenna smoothed Gustave’s hair from his face. She could feel Larry’s fiery gaze on her, but she had to placate her off-and-on-again date first. “Do you remember what happened?”

  The photographer coughed and rubbed his face. His eyes went in and out of focus and he grinned, reaching up for her. “Hey, babe. I’m here for your photoshoot. How come you didn’t return my texts?”

  “I’ve been having phone trouble,” Jenna said, which was the truth. Her phone had run out of memory and needed to be rebooted whenever she wanted to send or receive texts. “Where are you staying?”

  She helped Gustave sit, and he glared at Larry while Harley stood at attention, or as stiff as a basset hound puppy could get. His throat rumbled with a low, snorting growl.

  “Is that your bodyguard?” Gustave rubbed his head. “Did he hit me? I ought to sue him. Have him arrested.”

  “Sue me, instead.” She batted her eyelashes at the photographer. “I hired him, and I apologize. Really.”

  “Then you ought to fire him and hire a better looking one.” Gustave rubbed his jaw and let Jenna pull him to his feet. “Don’t tell me you’re low on funds again. I could spot you the cash if you need any.”

  Jenna’s back scorched from the fire fuming out of Larry, but she had to save his skin. Gustave was a class-one asshole, and he could care less whose life he ruined. The only reason she had to stay on his good side was obvious. He could make or break her career. He was in high demand, despite her jibe that he was cheap, and he could put together a look-book that would have couture buyers everywhere drooling to order.

  She rolled her shoulders and tilted her chin up, narrowing her eyes at Larry. “You’re fired. Please take your dog and leave us alone. I’ll direct deposit your final paycheck.”

  Larry’s mouth opened and shut. His face hardened and he turned away so fast that Jenna almost didn’t see the hurt in his eye. But she had, and the hope in her heart died.

  He’d never understand the world she operated in, the sharks she swam with, the compromises she had to make, and how low she had to go to claw her way to success.

  * * *

  Larry walked as straight and tall as he could until he was out of sight of the two slime bags. Even though Jenna had been worried about him getting into trouble for punching out Gustave,
she’d treated him like dirt while flirting and simpering over the fallen photographer.

  “Well, Harley, I don’t know what to do with you,” Larry said as the puppy lifted a leg against a bush. “You’re potty-trained already. Let’s swing by the station and see if you’ll like it there.”

  He was going to miss little Harley, but he couldn’t steal him from Jenna, and with the way everything had turned upside down, he didn’t want Jenna to have any reason to come see him. These past few days, she’d shown up every evening to walk Harley, and he’d come to look forward to her visits.

  He didn’t want to think about the kissing and the promises she’d made, saying she’d be his treat as long as he and Harley wanted her. Heck, she’d dismissed him as if he were a mere servant and fawned all over the assbite photographer.

  A couple of blocks later, Larry walked up the driveway of the fire station. Chad and Jackson were washing the engine, and they waved at him.

  “You’re in time for dinner,” Jackson said. “Jenna brought over Mrs. Hart’s Brunswick stew.”

  “Hey, who’s that little guy?” Chad squatted to the driveway and patted Harley. “Connor says you’ve been taking care of his sister’s dog.”

  Grrr. Gossip sure traveled fast.

  “Actually, I came to see if Connor wants this little guy. Jenna wants to surprise him for Valentine’s. You know, offer him a date and out jumps the puppy.”

  The two guys guffawed loudly.

  “That would be funny,” Jackson said. “Behind door number one is your date to the Valentine’s Ball, wearing a Jenna Hart designer dress.”

  “Why thank you, Chief,” Chad continued, in an irritating falsetto. “For letting your men participate in my show. Remember I promised you a date with one of the models? Well, da-dum!”

  “Whatever,” Larry grumbled. “It’s not right to surprise someone with a pet. I’m going to run it by Connor first.”

  “Chief’s in his office,” Jackson said. “Doing the budget.”