The Puppy Problem Read online

  “I asked if you were okay.”

  Luke shrugged and gestured vaguely with the half-peeled cucumber still in his hand. “You seem flushed. Need me to turn the AC down?”

  More like a cold shower. But Megan couldn’t say that, and she couldn’t admit that it had been so long since she’d been in a man’s company that something as mundane as watching him chop vegetables was enough to get her hot and bothered. So she shrugged and turned back to the window. “I probably just got a bit too much sun at the splash park today, that’s all.”

  He nodded, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her, as if he wasn’t quite sure of her answer. No doubt he’d had plenty of chances to hone his personal lie detector abilities dealing with hordes of schoolchildren. Hopefully she was more adept at covering her feelings than they were.

  * * *

  PARADISE PETS

  Dear Reader,

  I’m so excited to be able to share a new Paradise story with you—one that is very close to my heart. You’ll get to visit with some familiar friends from past Paradise books but also meet new faces, like single mom Megan Palmer. She’s a young widow trying to do the best by her son, who happens to be on the autism spectrum. Between advocating for him, getting her degree online and now working from home, she’s put her own needs aside for so long she’s not sure she even knows what they are anymore.

  I know all moms can relate to that constant balancing act—trying to be the best parent you can be while also handling all the other tasks of daily life. Add dating to the mix and things can get truly overwhelming. But Megan, like any mom, always puts her child’s needs first and no one better stand in her way—not even her son’s supersexy new principal.

  Luke Wright—nicknamed Mr. Right by the gossips of Paradise Isle—may not have a ton of experience, but he certainly doesn’t need one of the parents at the school trying to tell him how to do his job. And as much as he wants to help, letting a dog on campus—even a trained service dog—sounds like a disaster. But when his professional life and his personal life clash, he’ll have to make a hard choice that no amount of teacher training days could have prepared him for.

  I loved writing these characters, but as a former dog trainer and veterinary technician, I especially enjoyed researching and writing about service dogs. If you’d like more information on these amazing animals, I suggest contacting Canine Companions for Independence. You can find them at www.CCI.org.

  I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! And, as always, I love hearing from you! I can be reached on Facebook, www.Facebook.com/katiemeyerbooks, or my website, www.katiemeyerbooks.com.

  Happy reading!

  Katie Meyer

  The Puppy Problem

  Katie Meyer

  Katie Meyer is a Florida native with a firm belief in happy endings. A former veterinary technician and dog trainer, she now spends her days homeschooling her children, writing and snuggling with her pets. Her guilty pleasures include good chocolate, Downton Abbey and cheap champagne. Preferably all at once. She looks to her parents’ whirlwind romance and her own happy marriage for her romantic inspiration.

  Books by Katie Meyer

  Harlequin Special Edition

  Paradise Pets

  The Puppy Problem

  Paradise Animal Clinic

  The Marriage Moment

  Do You Take This Daddy?

  A Valentine for the Veterinarian

  The Puppy Proposal

  Proposals in Paradise

  The Groom’s Little Girls

  A Wedding Worth Waiting For

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  This book is dedicated to all the people who have believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. Thank you for standing by me, come what may. Special thanks to my parents; my husband; my agent, Jill Marsal; my editor, Carly Silver; and everyone at Harlequin Special Edition.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Excerpt from A Delicious Dilemma by Sera Taíno

  Chapter One

  No matter how old you were, being called into the principal’s office was always nerve-racking.

  That was the conclusion Megan Palmer reached in the fifteen minutes she’d been kept waiting in the reception area, perched on a worn plastic chair as a wall clock that looked older than she wearily ticked away the time. Her anxiety rose with every sweep of the second hand.

  She really should be used to this by now. Ever since Owen had moved from a special school for kids with autism into a mainstream classroom, she’d been called in on an increasingly frequent basis to discuss her son’s “difficulties.”

  That’s the word they usually used—difficulties.

  His teachers were concerned that her six-year-old was having difficulties adjusting, that he found transitions difficult, that he was having a difficult time following directions. Well, yeah, dealing with autism was difficult—for Owen. That’s what always seemed to get lost in the conversation. It was always about how his behaviors affected the classroom, the routine, the other kids. Never about how hard he was working, or how incredibly overwhelming daily life could be for someone with a brain that was wired differently.

  Megan knew exactly how it could be to deal with Owen. She’d been doing it all his life—most of that time as a single parent. But as her late husband had often said, the best things in life didn’t come easily. At the time, Tim had been referring to his job as a soldier, defending the freedom of their country. But she figured it applied to a lot of things, and lately it had become her personal mantra.

  Getting the news her husband had been killed by an IED hadn’t been easy. Finishing school while grieving him hadn’t been easy. Raising Owen wasn’t easy. Transitioning him into a mainstream classroom hadn’t been easy. The truth: each had been hard as hell. And she had a feeling today’s conversation with Principal Wright would be the hardest yet.

  But she was going to push for what she wanted—for what Owen needed—no matter how much educational red tape she had to cut through. She wasn’t a little kid, and she wasn’t going to let an elementary school principal intimidate her. She straightened her shoulders, rehearsed her well-researched arguments in her head, and ignored the little drop of nervous sweat trickling between her breasts.

  “Mrs. Palmer, Dr. Wright will see you now,” Ms. White, the school secretary, said. A middle-aged woman in slacks and a polyester blouse, she opened the little half door that divided the office into public and private areas. “I’ll show you—”

  “I know the way.” Too well, unfortunately. Megan could probably give tours of All Saints Elementary School at this point. Blowing by the disapproving woman, she briskly stepped through the portal and walked down the short hall that led to the administrator’s office. A left turn and there, three doors down, was her destination. The lion’s den, as it were.

  She knocked, perhaps a bit too firmly, and the door swung open a few inches, just enough for her to catch the principal’s eye as he motioned her in, a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he typed furiously at the open laptop on his desk.

  Megan
stepped inside and took a seat in one of the two straight-backed chairs in front of the ancient, scarred wood desk while he returned his attention to whomever was on the phone. Frustration gnawed at her. Why call her back if he hadn’t been ready—it wasn’t as if this meeting had been her idea. But the man was probably used to women being eager to sit around waiting for a scrap of his time. Not because he was the principal of a small, private school, but because Luke Wright was drop-dead gorgeous.

  It was a term she didn’t often use for men, but it fit. Unlike the crusty old administrators she remembered from her school days, Mr. Wright—or “Mr. Right” as he was often referred by local gossipers—looked like he should be on the set of a Hollywood blockbuster, not sitting in a stuffy, overcrowded office in the tiny town of Paradise, Florida.

  He was tall, at least six feet, with the lean athletic build of a swimmer or surfer. His hair was dark and thick, and just long enough to look a bit messy. In contrast, his beard was neatly trimmed. His necktie, purple with a pattern of small starfish, was perfectly straight. She’d had enough of these meetings to notice you could tell the time of day by his tie. Early in the day, it looked like it did now. By noon, he would have loosened it. By the end of the day, it would be hanging on the back of his chair, discarded with the jacket she’d never actually seen him wear.

  Megan focused on the tie; it kept her from staring at his eyes. The eyes of a poet, she’d secretly thought the first time they’d met. They were dark, ringed with thick black lashes that any woman would envy, and they seemed too see way too much. His eyes made her nervous. He made her nervous. Her and every other woman on the island.

  But unlike them, she couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by the man’s looks or his legendary charm. This was about her son. Everything in her life was about Owen now. He was the reason she’d busted her butt to get her computer science degree in half the normal time. He was the reason she’d taken a coding job that she could do during the day while he was at school, and at night while he slept. He was the reason she spent every other available minute researching therapies for children with autism. Owen was everything to her, and no one was going to keep her from doing what was right by him.

  * * *

  Luke knew he was being rude, but hanging up on the school’s wealthiest donor wasn’t an option. Not that he hadn’t considered it a time or two—Mrs. Cristoff was nothing if not long-winded—and, unlike him, she seemed to have endless time on her hands. He, on the other hand, had a day of scheduled back-to-back meetings and was already running behind.

  He didn’t mind the chaos that came with a building full of schoolchildren, or the need to multitask. He was good at that. But he hated this part of job, the fundraising and political nice-making. He had too damn much to do to be discussing linen colors for the upcoming charity gala. But, of course, he couldn’t say that without risking a huge chunk of his budget for next year. It also didn’t help that Mrs. Cristoff lived across the street from him, which she believed gave her instant access at all times.

  All Saints was a small school, and the tuition was low to keep it within reach of the island’s working-class families. Donations kept the lights on, so he grit his teeth and assured Mrs. Cristoff that yes, he was sure chartreuse would look lovely. “In fact, why don’t you call right now to arrange the rentals, so you can be sure to get the shade you want... Yes, right now... We can touch base later. Bye.” He hung up and caught Owen’s mom smirking at him.

  That’s how he always referred to her—“Owen’s mom”—to remind himself that she was a parent of one of his students. It would be easier if she looked more matronly, but between her petite size and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, Megan Palmer looked more like a college coed than a woman with a school-age child. Too bad his body hadn’t gotten the off-limits memo. Every time he saw her, his libido kicked into high gear. Today was no different.

  Annoyed at the phone call, at the delay, and mostly at his own inappropriate reaction, he found himself taking his frustration out on her. “Something funny?”

  If she was put off by his tone, she didn’t show it. Instead, a full grin broke over her face. “Actually, I was just wondering if you had any idea what color chartreuse was.”

  “None.” Despite the situation, her smile was contagious and he felt his tension ratchet down a few degrees. “Some kind of pink?”

  “Green.” Her blue eyes danced in amusement. “Actually, about halfway between green and yellow.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded, the movement shaking free a few loose tendrils from the bun she always seemed to wear. He’d spent more time than he wanted to admit wondering what all that long blond hair would look like loose, how it would feel if he ran his hands through it.

  “Is that a problem?”

  His attraction for her? Definitely. But he didn’t think that was what she was asking. “Is what a problem?”

  “That whatever it is you were talking about is going to be green instead of pink? Wouldn’t want you to end up with your house painted the wrong color or something.”

  She thought he lived in a pink house? He shook his head at the image. “No, it doesn’t matter. Not to me anyway. I’m sure it’s vitally important to Mrs. Cristoff, though. She’s picking out tablecloths or something for the Scholar’s Banquet, our biggest fundraiser of the year. She can have purple polka dots as far as I’m concerned.” He grimaced; he shouldn’t be venting to a parent. But Owen’s mom didn’t seem offended, her smile growing.

  “Party planning probably wasn’t part of your doctorate program, huh?” she asked, nodding at his diploma on the wall.

  “Not exactly. Nor fundraising.” Luke glanced at the file folder on his desk, the one with Owen’s name printed on it, and sobered. He hated that he had to keep calling her in for these meetings. Hated even more that Owen was struggling so much.

  He took his job as principal seriously and, if one of his students was having a hard time, he felt a personal obligation to help. The problem was that nothing seemed to be working for Owen. Luke had done some research on autism since the six-year-old had come to the school, but the information was all so general, so abstract. And Luke was growing increasingly worried that his elementary school wouldn’t be able to offer the boy what he needed.

  Since All Saints was a church-related private school, it wasn’t required to follow ADA guidelines to accommodate special needs students. But that also meant no federal or state money to help with the costs of even trying. It was frustrating all the way around, and admitting defeat wasn’t Luke’s style. Regardless, he was running out of options. In the middle of his quandaries was Owen, a flesh-and-blood little boy whose pain was real.

  As if reading his mind, Megan’s smile vanished and what he thought of as her “mama bear face” fell into place. Concerned. Fierce. Ready for battle. “I assume there’s been a problem in the classroom again?” Her words were clipped, but he sensed the apprehension behind them.

  “The lunchroom, actually.” He removed the incident report from the folder and passed it to her. “Owen got upset because there was a menu change. He threw his lasagna at the cafeteria worker.”

  Disappointment and embarrassment clouded her features as she skimmed the brief report. By the time she handed it back, her game face was in place. “I was promised that any changes to the menu would be communicated ahead of time. You know Owen gets anxious making choices, so we always decide ahead of time what he’s going to order.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” His regret was sincere. They had agreed to do that, and he planned to track down and deal with whomever had let things fall through the cracks. “But that doesn’t excuse violence.”

  “Did he mean to throw it at someone? He has meltdowns, but I’ve never known him to be violent.”

  “I honestly don’t know. But, frankly, it doesn’t matter. The outcome is the same. We want to help Owen,
but I have to consider the safety of the other students and staff, as well. And as much as we want to make this work, perhaps it is time to consider an alternate school environment for Owen.” He hated saying it, because Owen really was a wonderful little boy most of the time. Nevertheless, his outbursts hadn’t lessened and it was only a matter of time before he injured himself or someone else.

  She flinched at the words as if he’d physically struck her. But, true to form, she didn’t back down. Straightening her slight shoulders, she looked him square in the eye and said what no one at the school had yet dared to say. “No.”

  * * *

  Megan felt her hands tremble, but she kept her head high as Luke Wright raised an eyebrow at her words.

  “Excuse me?”

  “With all due respect, Principal Wright, I know my son and what’s best for him. He’s making friends here, and he’s growing both socially and academically. All Saints is where he needs to be.”

  “I sympathize with your concern for your son, but the truth is, his behavior is becoming more than we can handle.” The compassionate look in his eyes did little to ease the sting of his words.

  She’d expected this, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

  “I know.” Megan tried to keep her voice calm and authoritative, even as her pulse pounded a desperate rhythm in her temples. Leaning down, she felt more hair slip from her bun as she retrieved a packet of papers from her bag. “He’s trying. But when things change, like they did today, it triggers his anxiety, and when he gets anxious he has meltdowns. We do have a plan in place for that, to prevent things from escalating. It works at home. It could work here, too. If you’d just let him bring Lily—”

  He held up a hand, stopping her in midsentence. “No. We’ve discussed this before, and school is no place for a dog. Pets need to stay at home.”

  Megan bristled. “Lily isn’t a pet. She’s a trained service dog. Think of her like a personal aide for Owen.” The idea of an aide had been floated before, but since All Saints was a private school, she’d been told she’d have to pay out of pocket. The cost was well outside her stretched-to-the-breaking-point budget. “Public schools allow aides for special needs children on a regular basis.”