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Police, Pooch, and Smooch: A Single Dad, Police Officer Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 25) by Flora Ferrari (1)


CHAPTER 1

 

 

Sadie

 

“We’ll find you a good home.  I promise.”

 

I kneel down and take Max’s too cute for words face in my hands, scratching behind his big floppy ears with my fingers.  He’s got his mouth open and his tongue hanging out to the side as he looks at me with those deep brown eyes of his that are so dark they’re almost black.  He’s wagging his tail like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  His expression tells me he’s completely oblivious to what he just did.

 

Poor little guy.  If he doesn’t turn around his destructive streak soon no one’s going to adopt him.  I’d love to keep him for myself and watch him grown, but without a job and my dad breathing down my neck to find a home for the last puppy in the litter I’m left with little choice.

 

I run my fingertips along his super soft yellow fur again.  He’s so soft he’s actually fluffy.  I just can’t resist his cuteness, and I pick him up and give him a little hug.  He barks, but it’s more like a squeak.

 

Thank god my dad’s not here right now.  The barking’s been driving him crazy.  He told me exactly thirty days ago that I have to find all the puppies homes in one month.  Tomorrow’s the day.

 

I spent the entire afternoon stapling more flyers to all the light poles in my neighborhood.  I’m just praying someone will see one of them and come soon, but I also hope whoever does come is the right fit.  This little guy’s a handful.

 

I set Max down, and walk back into the living room.  There are tissues everywhere, along with the stuffing from two couch cushions.  Replacing those cushions isn’t going to come cheap.  I do the math, thinking back to the last time he tore them up, and realize the cost is going to wipe out my savings.  No savings, no job, and no home for Max.  And worse yet, there are no prospects in sight for any of the three.

 

What was I thinking pursuing a journalism degree?  I had visions of traveling the world and uncovering breaking news.  The only things that are breaking right now are my bank account and my heart.

 

After graduation, my boyfriend took off for New York City.  He said he needed to focus one hundred percent on his new career right now, and didn’t have time for any distractions.  Distraction?  I never realized that’s all I was to him, or should I say all that I wasn’t.

 

I was even thinking I might be getting a ring soon, and the whole time he was just thinking we were a college fling.  Now that he was in the “real world” it was time to move on.  It hit me like a ton of bricks, and as much as I try and put on a happy face, I’m still heartbroken.

 

I pick up the pieces of cotton, or whatever it is, from all corners of the room.  What do they put in cushions these days, I wonder as I rub the stuffing between my thumb and forefinger.  The texture is strange.  This can’t be healthy.

 

I continue making my way around the room, before checking under the couch.

 

“What do we have here?” I say.

 

“Oh no.”  I pull the sole of a shoe out from underneath he couch.  It’s a mangled mess and the size immediately tells me it’s my only pair of walking shoes.

 

Could this day get any worse?

 

Ding dong.

 

I bury my face in my hands and take a big breath in and blow it out slowly, counting backwards from three.

 

I get up and straighten my clothes as best I can.  The material from the couch cushions has decided to cling to every inch of my black shirt.  I look like an absolute wreck.  I look up at the clock on the wall and know it’s going to be Nora, my best friend.  She’s leaving for Ibiza in three days with her boyfriend Jack.  I’m definitely happy for her, but listening to her enthusiasm is just going to remind me how are lives are going in completely opposite directions at the moment.  I’ve got no Jack, and definitely no posh European holiday plans lined up.  I’m scraping together two pennies just to buy couch cushions.

 

“Hey girl,” I say, as I open the door.  “Ohhh.”

 

Standing in front of me is the furthest thing from a girl.  It’s well over six feet of pure man.  He’s staring down at me with piercing blue eyes, as pristine as the blue waters I’ve seen in the pictures of Ibiza I saw online.

 

His hair is a sandy blonde, perfectly complimenting his ocean blue eyes.  I would say he looks like a surfer, but he seems more serious and professional, and he’s way too tall and muscular.

 

He’s wearing a light blue V-neck, which accentuates his eyes even more.  His shoulders are so wide.  It’s easy to see why he was captain of the city football team in his earlier days.  And as much as those days have long gone, he still looks no worse for the wear.  The years have been more than kind to him.  He’s aged like a fine wine, and the few wrinkles he does have tell the story of a man who’s living life to its fullest.

 

But that’s the last thing he’s done over the course of the last year.  I know it, and everyone in town knows it too.

 

Ever since his wife was tragically killed in the line of duty, he’s boarded himself inside his house next door.  He literally boarded himself in, if you count the ten-foot high wooden fence he erected outside, which runs the entire perimeter of his property.

 

I heard he went off the deep end, but I haven’t seen him in so long that there was no way to really know for sure.  I don’t think anyone’s seen him for a long time.  The newspaper said he was being reassigned from the street to a desk job after the incident.  He never patrolled anymore.  He must have just buried himself behind a pile of work.

 

I didn’t even see his car come or go anymore.  My mom said she saw him leave really early a couple mornings when she woke up to get a glass of water.  Five in the morning he was out and who knew what time he came back.  It must have been well after dark when he managed to return undetected.

 

My eyes wander down and I see he’s got two fingers extended, and his little son is grasping them with one hand.  Oh my god.  Seeing this man and his little boy is absolutely melting my heart.

 

“I saw your sign.”  His words cloak me, and I feel safe and protected, not concerned that he may be unpredictable and dangerous these days, as most people seem to want to think.  It’s just that his voice is so deep, and so masculine, and so comforting.  His tone may be deep, but his words are crystal clear, cutting right through the air.  He has no accent, but for some reason I just picture steel toe boots striding across the desert plains.  His tone and his five o’clock shadow tell me he’s rough and rugged, even though he’s dressed casually and he seems comforting.

 

“About the puppy,” he says.

 

“Puppy!” his little son says.

 

I look at his little boy and can’t help but smile.  His kid is absolutely adorable.  I want to just pick him up and give him a hug.

 

“I’m James.  This is Simon, but everyone calls him Smooch.”

 

I look back up at James.  “I’m…Sadie,” I say in a hushed tone.

 

Why is he introducing himself?  It’s my first time seeing his son, but we’ve met before on a few occasions albeit briefly.

 

His eyes narrow as his look pierces me.  His eyes are so focused on mine.  He’s so present, undistracted, so…perfectly attentive.  Most guys I know can’t hold eye contact.  He can’t seem to break it.

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Sadie.”

 

“My pleasure,” I say.  “I mean the pleasure is all mine.”

 

He’s throwing me off so bad I can barely even get the words out, let alone form a proper sentence.

 

We stand in the doorway staring at each other.  His expression is flat, giving away nothing.  What is he thinking?  What am I thinking?  I’m supposed to be scared of this guy, but all I feel is safety.

 

“Puppy!” Smooch yells, pointing back in towards the living room.

 

I turn just in time to see Max bound across the carpet and leap through the air just as he arrives at Smooch, and that’s exactly what he give him…a big fat doggy tongue smooch right across his cheek.

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