Leader of the Pack (The Dogfather Book 3)

  Leader of the Pack

  The Dogfather

  Book Three

  Roxanne St. Claire

  Leader of the Pack

  THE DOGFATHER BOOK THREE

  Copyright © 2017 South Street Publishing

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights to reproduction of this work are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner. Thank you for respecting the copyright. For permission or information on foreign, audio, or other rights, contact the author, [email protected]

  978-0-9981093-5-0 – LEADER OF THE PACK EBOOK

  978-0-9981093-6-7 – LEADER OF THE PACK PRINT

  COVER ART: Keri Knutson (designer) and Dawn C. Whitty (photographer)

  INTERIOR FORMATTING: Author EMS

  Table of Contents

  LEADER OF THE PACK

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Dear Reader

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The BAREFOOT BAY Series

  Dedication

  For Nemo, a precious, protective Schutzhund who helped inspire this story. (Doggie kisses to his owner and my dear friend, Gena Showalter, who taught me about these amazing dogs!)

  Dear Reader:

  Welcome back to the foothills of North Carolina where the Dogfather, Daniel Kilcannon, is once again pulling some strings to help one of his six grown children find forever love. On these pages, you’ll find my favorite things in life and fiction: big families, great dogs, and lasting love. And, I am delighted to inform you that a portion of the first month sales of all the books in this series is being donated to Alaqua Animal Refuge (www.alaqua.org) in my home state of Florida. That’s where these covers were shot by photographer Dawn Whitty (www.dawncwhitty.com) using real men (not models, but they are gorgeous!) and rescue dogs (now in forever homes!). So you don’t only buy a terrific book…you support a fantastic cause!

  I couldn’t publish a book without my amazing crew, so huge thanks to my editor, Kristi Yanta, who knows how to make my voice sing; copyeditor Joyce Lamb, who is wonderfully picky and detailed; proofreader Marlene Engel, who makes sure every page is clean and shiny; cover designer Keri Knutson, who gave me Liam and Jag; and veterinarian Linda Hankins, who helps me get the dogs right. Thanks to all of them, along with my family, my best writing friends, and my dear little puppers who wait patiently for a walk while I finish a scene.

  I hope you love the Kilcannon clan! Don’t miss a single book in The Dogfather Series:

  Sit…Stay…Beg (Book 1)

  New Leash on Life (Book 2)

  Leader of The Pack (Book 3)

  Bad to the Bone (Book 4)

  Ruff Around the Edges (Book 5)

  Double Dog Dare (Book 6)

  Old Dog New Tricks (Book 7)

  Sign up for my newsletter at www.roxannestclaire.com to find out when the next book is released! (Sign up now and receive a free full-length stand-alone novel!)

  Chapter One

  Two Months Ago

  It would have been so easy to leave. Liam’s brothers already knew the decibel level coming from the crowd and music in Bushrod’s was enough to make him itch for air, silence, and solitude. They knew he hated the bar scene that never, not once, resulted in him meeting anyone worth seeing again.

  So, when Andrea Rivers walked in, laughing with another woman, Liam knew that no one would have blinked twice if he’d slipped out into the night.

  Including Andi herself.

  Regret, disappointment, and the stale taste of rejection made him reach for his beer and down it the way a man would if he was about to leave a bar.

  Not so his younger brother Shane. Unencumbered by any regrets, disappointment, or personal experience with rejection, Shane was up and beelining to the bar to buy the women drinks. He made no effort to hide his interest in Chloe Somerset, the woman Andi was with. Chloe was on Shane’s radar, which meant the town’s new tourism expert didn’t stand a chance.

  Now they’d all come back to this table to have their drink. With Liam. Unless…he left.

  Or he could stay and talk to Andi. How would that go, he wondered.

  Andi and Liam would say hello and give each other an awkward hug. She’d congratulate Garrett and Jessie on their engagement when they came back from the dance floor. Then Shane would persuade Chloe to dance the next time a slow song started. Garrett and Jessie would suck face or go back to dance again.

  And that would leave Andi and Liam inches apart and forced to say something to each other. Dead air was not his favorite thing.

  But Andi was.

  His gaze slipped to the door, an escape just fifteen feet away.

  Still, he stayed rooted to his seat, watching through the crowd as Shane put his hands on Chloe’s shoulders and saved her from some guy who’d already moved in. Shane received a warm smile as his reward.

  A few feet away from them, Liam caught a glimpse of Andi’s long blond hair, but then Shane blocked his view.

  Liam looked away, moved his empty glass an inch, shifted in his seat, and swiped slightly damp palms on his jeans. Then he checked his watch.

  When he looked up, he saw her again. Closer now. Moving through the crowd. Coming straight toward this table. Her gaze was downcast, avoiding eye contact with guys who stepped aside to let her through, one of them staring at her backside like a Rottie ready to hump. Instantly, Liam sat up straighter, fisted his hands, and glared at the moron.

  But then Andi reached the table and offered a tentative smile. Everything in the bar faded to background noise and colors. All he could see was hair the color of wheat blowing in the wind and eyes like a Carolina summer sky. Lips he’d kissed enough times to know exactly how sweet they tasted. A silky blue top rose and fell with a breath before she spoke, drawing his attention to her body, which was delicate, feminine, and, oh man, so perfect.

  “Hello, Liam.”

  “Andi.” One word, and he couldn’t get it out without it sounding like the bark of a sick dog.

  “I hear there are open seats at this table.” She gestured toward the one catty-corner from him, hesitating when he didn’t move.

  Because his frickin’ brain just went dead.

  “Unless you’d rather I…” She pointed her thumb at the gathering of goons behind her, and one side of her mouth lifted in a smile.

  “No, God, no. Please.” He started to stand and get the chair, but she slipped into it before he even made it to his feet.

  She angled her head toward the bar. “She’s too kind to ditch me, but Chloe got distracted by your brother.”

  “Yeah,” he s
aid, trying so hard not to stare into her eyes. Failing, though. Talk, Liam. “He has that effect on unsuspecting victims.”

  She laughed easily, a sweet sound that made her tip her head enough so that he could see the fine line of her jaw. “Oh, I don’t think she’s unsuspecting. Plus, he gave her a dog.”

  “Yeah, I heard she took Daisy in.” He glanced down at his empty beer, gathering his thoughts, which were pretty much scattered to the four winds and lost because…Andi.

  “Did you—”

  “Have you—”

  They both laughed at the awkward, simultaneous questions.

  “You first—”

  “Go ahead—”

  And again.

  Andi shook her head, putting an easy hand over his, probably unaware that just that slight touch of her long, feminine fingers felt a little like a live wire on his skin. “How are you, Liam?”

  Besides being shell-shocked by the woman he never, ever got over? “Great. You?”

  He could see her relax instantly. “Really good. Christian just finished kindergarten.”

  Of course her first report would be about her little boy. The kid was her whole life, which was another thing he liked and respected about her.

  “Wow, that was fast,” he said. Not that it seemed fast to him, but he grabbed the first thing people said when they talked about kids. Truth was, it seemed like forever since he’d held her and said goodbye and tried to make her believe he understood her decision.

  But it hadn’t been forever, only about three years, during which time he’d trained a hundred dogs and tried to date a handful of women, none of whom were Andi Rivers. But here she was, inches away and as beautiful and magnetic as ever.

  “You have no idea how fast,” she said. “And how are all your dogs? I hear Waterford is the largest rescue and training center in the state now.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And I remember when it opened and I brought Christian to that grand-opening event for the town? Remember?”

  Did he remember the day they’d met? Was she kidding? She’d stood in the sunshine at Waterford Farm, like an angel with a glow of goodness around her, a tiny tow-headed boy hiding behind her leg, desperate to get closer to a German shepherd Liam had on a leash, but terrified of the dog, too.

  “We’ve come a long way since then. I mean, Waterford has.” Because he and Andi had made it slightly more than one month before he got pushed aside for someone else. Someone who happened to be the father of her child, but still.

  “I hear nothing but good things about Waterford,” she said. “And you’re the leader.”

  “Only where K-9 training is concerned,” he said. “My dad runs the operation, really.”

  “The Dogfather.”

  He chuckled, inexplicably happy that she remembered inside jokes his family shared. “That’s what they call him.”

  “That’s what they call who?” Shane held two beers and put one in front of Liam, then pulled out a chair for Chloe, who held two glasses of wine and gave one to Andi.

  “Oh, thank you,” Andi said.

  “Thank Shane,” Chloe replied, lifting her glass to toast Liam. “Nice to see you again, Liam.”

  With Shane back, the talk wasn’t small or awkward anymore. In a few minutes, he was telling a story about how they had four new puppies all getting leash-trained at the same time, making everyone howl with laughter.

  Liam only made dogs howl, or at least he could train one to do so on command. Fat lot of good that skill did him with a beautiful woman next to him, frequently glancing at him. Quite frequently, unless that was his imagination.

  “So we send Darcy out there,” Shane continued, talking with his hands and mesmerizing everyone. “Which was a huge mistake, because adding our little sister to a group of puppies is kind of like adding one more crazy puppy.”

  Except Andi wasn’t that mesmerized. She took a sip of wine and shot another look to Liam over the rim. Her blue eyes held his, the tiniest smile behind the glass.

  Just enough to slam him with hope.

  Unless his third beer had made him dumb.

  Was he imagining her gaze on him?

  No. It was real. Every time he looked to his right, he’d catch her eye, and before he could look away, he read something in her expression. An invitation? An open door? Another chance?

  After three years? Two since her ex was killed in a car accident. Liam had visited Andi after the guy died, to give his condolences, and she’d been understandably distant. He’d seen her around town, of course, but every encounter was brief and uncomfortable.

  She certainly had never looked at him like that. Like she wanted something. Like she wanted him.

  “Oh no.” She pulled out her phone on a sigh. “The text I’ve been dreading.”

  “Everything all right?” Liam asked as she read.

  “My sitter is wondering when I’m coming home.” She looked at Chloe. “I didn’t expect our dinner would turn into a night out, and I told her I’d be home by ten.”

  “Totally understand,” Chloe said, reaching for her purse.

  “No, you don’t have to leave,” Andi replied. “You’re having fun. My house is on the other side of Bushrod Square. I’ll be home in ten minutes.”

  “I wouldn’t think of letting you leave alone,” Chloe said.

  “Please.” Andi put her hand on Chloe’s and looked from her to Shane. “You don’t have a six-year-old, and it’s Saturday night. Enjoy yourself.”

  Chloe shook her head, and Liam interjected before she could argue, “I’ll take you home.” He hoped he didn’t sound too much like a hungry dog who’d glimpsed a bone. “Let me walk you.”

  Andi opened her mouth to answer, and he braced for the rejection. But she stayed speechless for a split second, then sighed softly. “Okay. That would be great.”

  “Are you sure?” Chloe asked.

  “Only if you have someone to take you home,” Andi said.

  Shane held up his hand. “I got this.”

  “Then I’m sure.” Andi turned to Liam. “Let’s go.”

  The two words were like music to his ears.

  * * *

  Part of Andi knew exactly what she was doing…the part that resided in the lower half of her body. Because if she had been conducting business with her heart tonight, she would have made polite small talk with Liam Kilcannon and left with the girlfriend she arrived with. Or, if she’d actually used her brain, she would have made up an excuse and slipped out the back of Bushrod’s the minute she saw Liam, insisting that Chloe stay and have fun.

  But her actions were driven by that knot low in her belly, the white-hot ache that she’d learned to ignore during her two years of self-imposed celibacy, also known as loneliness. One look at a man who never failed to shake up her hormones and she couldn’t ignore anything anymore.

  Couldn’t ignore the need to put a casual hand on the masculine forearm with a dusting of dark hair. Couldn’t ignore the thrill of a three-seconds-too-long lingering look over a glass of wine. And she sure as heck wouldn’t ignore the text from her sitter, which was like a message from the great beyond saying, Let Liam walk you home and see what happens.

  A few minutes later, he held the door for her, and they stepped into the hot summer night of Bitter Bark, North Carolina.

  “I have my truck if you’d rather ride,” he said.

  She angled her head, considering the choice, but she already knew exactly what her answer had to be. “Walk, I think. It’s the coolest part of the day, and I don’t want to miss it.”

  “True,” he said, setting a hand on her back and then moving it again, as if it burned to touch her. “It’s been so hot that the only time we’re really training in July and August is early morning and after sundown.”

  “Are you still training German shepherds for sale as protection dogs? What’s it called again? Schutz…”

  “Schutzhund. High-protection guard dog training. Yep, still doing it. Turns out it’s
the most lucrative aspect of our business, so I’ve got one dog going at all times,” he said.

  “And K-9 training?”

  “Sure. I’m still working with law enforcement and military trainers who bring their dogs to us, but the market for high-end, specially trained German shepherds is booming. We’ve gotten a reputation as one of the best in the country.”

  “I’m not surprised, Liam. You have an uncanny ability to coax fearlessness out of an animal.”

  He nodded a silent acknowledgment of the compliment. “That’s all thanks to being a military dog trainer in the Marines, and believe me, I have help,” he added with that soft note of humility always present in his tone. “It’s insane what people will pay for these dogs. One of our biggest clients is a security firm up in New York who shells out fifteen grand a dog.”

  “But it takes a long time to train one, right?”

  “Some longer than others,” he said. “Like I got one about a month ago, Jag. He’s protective as hell, but easily distracted. Might not command the big bucks.” He shook his head. “Sorry. You probably don’t care about the details.”

  She smiled up at him as they crossed the street and headed toward the square. “I’m all about the details, remember? I’m an architect.”

  “Yes, I remember,” he said with a slight laugh that told her he hadn’t forgotten a thing. “An architect who wants to be a professor someday.”