by Sandra Owens
“Temporarily apparently.”
“What does that mean?”
They hadn’t talked on the drive over, and suddenly she gets chatty? Explaining why he was here wasn’t going to happen. He exited the car. Lucky squeezed between the seats, following him out. Peyton got out and jogged up next to him. Too close. He could smell her scent, something fresh and citrusy. Made him think of summer days and sunshine. Light to his dark.
He sidestepped, putting distance between them. What was he even doing here? Spending his days with dogs wasn’t going to magically fix his head. Why his commander thought it would was a mystery.
Jack walked out of the office. “Good morning, Peyton.”
She gave Jack a warm smile. “Morning. It’s good to see you again.” She glanced around. “Noah told me what you do here, and I have to say that’s really awesome.”
“Would you like a tour?”
“Very much. How many dogs are you training? How long does it take before one’s ready to go to someone? Where do you get the dogs from? I know about therapy dogs, but I’ve never met one.” She eyed Lucky, who seemed to be hanging on her every word. “Oh, is Lucky a therapy dog? I guess I have met one then.”
Noah resisted the urge to kiss her into silence. Talk about training...in two days, she’d trained him to kiss her whenever she talked too much. He glanced at Jack, who was grinning like a fool as he listened to her. Noah didn’t like that. Not that he was worried his friend would make a move on her. Jack was totally in love with Nichole.
Her rambles belonged to him, though. And if that wasn’t the stupidest thought he’d ever had, he didn’t know what was. The two of them wandered off, Peyton asking her endless questions, barely waiting for an answer before she was on to the next one.
Instead of tagging along, he headed for the nearby stone bench. Lucky jumped up and sat next to him. The dog watched the two as Jack walked Peyton past the kennels.
“You like her, huh?” Lucky glanced up at him, then turned his attention back to Peyton. When she and Jack disappeared into the building that housed a new litter of puppies, Lucky whined.
“Yeah, I like her, too, but that’s my problem.” He really had to stop kissing her, because every time he did, he wanted more. “Bad timing. You know what I mean?” And now he was talking to a dog that he’d wanted nothing to do with.
How had his life gone south so fast? He took the pair of dice from his pocket and stared at them. Justin Alba had always sworn they were his lucky dice and wasn’t that a joke since the man had to be the worst gambler in the world. He was always broke, but Noah couldn’t count how many times his father swore the next big win was just around the corner.
What was actually around the corner were the people his father owed money to because of his gambling. Another thing Noah had lost count of was how many times they’d moved in the middle of the night, each new place worse than the last.
He’d once told his mother that he wished she’d never married his father. “Then I wouldn’t have you,” she’d answered, and he knew she meant it. Knowing now that she’d died at the hands of his father, he would gladly give up his existence for her to live again. And to have never met Justin Alba.
All this reminiscing reminded him that he hadn’t returned his brother’s call from five days ago. He needed to do that before Clint decided to pay a surprise visit. He wouldn’t put it past his rich half brother to do that.
Until four years ago, he hadn’t known he had a brother, one the same age as him. When Clint had tracked him down, Noah had been so enraged that another woman had been pregnant with his father’s son at the same time his mother was that he’d told his brother to get the hell out of his life.
Clint was a stubborn bastard, though, and despite the initial verbal abuse Noah had rained down on him, he kept coming back until Noah surrendered, tired of fighting him. The first year of their relationship had been uncomfortable...for him, anyway. Nothing seemed to bother Clint. The brother he hadn’t wanted had wormed his way into Noah’s life, and now he couldn’t imagine not having him there.
Still, when his life had fallen apart, he’d ignored Clint’s calls, not able to face being a disappointment to his brother. But it was time to man up. He’d call him soon. Jack walked out of the building alone, and Noah slipped the dice back into his pocket.
“She’s going to play with the puppies for a while,” Jack said, stopping in front of Noah. “You ready to do some work with your dog?”
“Not my dog, but since I don’t seem to have a choice, let’s do this.”
“There are always choices, Noah. If you don’t want to be here, leave.”
“Don’t fancy ending up in the brig.” Although it was damn tempting to walk away, just disappear to wherever.
“Then drop the frown and attitude, brother. I know you don’t believe me now, but give me a week with an open mind, and I promise you, you’ll start feeling better about yourself.”
Doubtful. How was he supposed to feel better about himself after what he’d done? But unless he was willing to go AWOL, he was stuck here until Jack and his commander decided he had his act together. “Fine. You got your week.”
“Good.” Jack squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “And try smiling once in a while.”
“Anything else, like shooting rainbows out my ass?”
Jack laughed. “That happens the second week you’re here.”
“Oh, joy,” Noah muttered.
“Before we start, I want to go over a few things.” He took a seat next to Noah on the bench. “Some things to remember. Your tone of voice, eye contact, touch, and facial expressions are all important in training a dog.”
“Okay.” He wasn’t the team’s dog handler, but he’d sometimes watched Striker work with his dog, and before him, Jack.
“Old-school training was to punish a dog to correct unwanted behavior. Don’t ever do that. We’ll reward them for good behavior, for doing what we want, for accomplishing a task. Always remember that Lucky will pick up on your emotions, the good and the bad ones. If you’re anxious or upset, he will be, too. As you work with him, you’ll learn his signs, the ones that will tell you if he’s paying attention, if he’s tense or confused about what you want from him. He’ll tell you those things by the position of his ears, the tilt of his head, what his tail is doing. He wants to please you. If you’re centered, he’ll be centered.”
“Centered? I don’t even know what that means anymore.” Much less how to achieve it.
“You were always one of the most centered on the team, so it’s there.” He tapped Noah’s chest. “You just have to find it again, and you will.” He stood. “Ready for your lesson with your dog?”
Not his dog. “Sure.”
* * *
“Today was fun,” Peyton said as they walked Lucky before leaving for dinner at Jack’s house. They’d come home to shower and change clothes. When Noah had clipped the leash on Lucky’s collar to take him out, she’d tagged along without asking. If she had, she knew he would have refused her company.
“Good.”
“The puppies are so cute. Jack said he’d teach me some things he does in their early training. Isn’t that cool? Did you know he plays all kinds of music over the speakers in their room? It gets them used to different kinds of noises. I would have never thought of doing that. Eventually, he’ll get them used to really loud things like firecrackers and guns. He does that so if someone’s out with their therapy dog and say a car backfires, the dog won’t panic and try to run away.”
She paused, waiting for a response or even better, a kiss, but all she got was a grunt. He’d been in silent mode since leaving the therapy dog place. If it was Dalton acting like this, she’d be wondering what she’d done or said wrong. Whatever was going on with Noah, though, had nothing to do with her. It was weird that she knew that, considering she barely knew the man.
> “Was Jack in the navy with you? How does he know so much about dogs?” Maybe if she asked questions, she could get him to talk.
“Yes, and he was the team’s dog handler, trained by the navy.”
Okay, that was the most he’d said since leaving Jack’s, so questions were the way to go. “What was your job?”
“Whatever I was told to do.”
She poked his arm. “That answer’s really helpful, Mr. Mysterious.” He almost smiled, she was sure of it. “Are you still in the navy?”
“Yep.”
“You’re a joy to talk to, you know that?”
“If you say so.”
“Does that mean you won’t be staying in Asheville?”
“Correct.”
She doubted he’d want to hear that made her sad. They paused when Lucky decided to water the hog statue. “Guess he doesn’t have a high opinion of pigs. Speaking of, do you like barbecue? We have some great places for ribs and pork sandwiches. I could take you for barbecue tomorrow night. Do they put coleslaw on pork sandwiches where you’re from? I always thought that was normal until a friend from college came for a visit. She’d never heard of such a thing. Where in Maine are you from, anyway?”
Yes, he was kissing her! Right there on the street in front of anyone walking by. That excited her, and wasn’t that weird? He had his hand on the back of her neck, holding her still while his mouth took possession of hers. The way he held her felt possessive, and mercy, did she ever want to be possessed by this man.
“Peyton!”
The harsh voice cut through her haze. Noah’s mouth lingered on hers a few seconds more, and then he lifted his head but kept his eyes on hers. She saw the question in them. Did she want to talk to Dalton? Not even, her eyes answered. He gave a curt nod, and with his hand still on her neck, he led her away.
“I’m talking to you, Peyton.”
Lucky looked back and growled. She and Noah kept walking. There was nothing left to say to Dalton, so why couldn’t he leave her alone? She was glad Noah hadn’t felt it necessary to get in a pissing battle with Dalton, and that told her something. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Noah could be badass when he wanted, but he didn’t feel the need to prove it. That impressed her...like she needed anything more to be impressed with him.
“So you don’t care that your father’s dying?” Dalton called. “Are you really that cold of a bitch?”
Noah squeezed her neck. “Keep walking, princess.”
But she couldn’t. She turned. “Stop lying. It’s not true and you know it.”
“Are you sure about that?” He glanced from her to Noah, then back to her. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“Not happening,” Noah said, his voice surprisingly calm.
“He’s right. You have something to say to me, say it, then get out of my life and stay out.”
Dalton glared at Noah, and when he turned his gaze to her, she could see him battling his rage. She’d come within minutes of being married to this man, and it would have been the worst mistake of her life. It deeply hurt that she’d lost her place at the brewery, but it was a price she was willing to pay.
“Your father is dying. I’m not lying about that.”
“Stop saying that. If that’s true, he would have told me.”
“He doesn’t want you to know.” Dalton stepped closer. “He wants to make sure you’re taken care of, and I’m the man to do that.”
Beside her, Noah snorted. She grinned at him. “I know, right?” He winked, and it was like they had a secret. Something big fluttered in her chest, a condor maybe.
“We’re going to be late for dinner if we don’t head out soon,” Noah said.
“Then let’s go.” She turned her back on her ex, hoping he’d finally get the hint and give up.
“I think you should go see your father,” Noah said as they rode the elevator up to her loft. “You need to make sure Dalton really is lying, and you also need to tell your father he’s stalking you.”
“I’m going to see Dad in the morning, but I’m not sure I’d call it stalking—”
“He’s stalking you, Peyton. If he keeps it up, I’m going to have to hurt him. I don’t think you want me to do that.”
“I don’t. This isn’t your mess, and I don’t want to see you get in trouble.” She put her hand on his arm. “Maybe you should go back to your apartment and forget you ever met me.” That was the last thing she wanted, but she really didn’t want him in trouble because of her. She thought he was on leave because something happened that was so bad that it kept him from sleeping.
“No thanks. I’ve gotten used to the finer digs you offered, princess.”
“Well, just don’t get in trouble because of me, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
“I brought you beer that I brewed,” Peyton said after she was introduced to Nichole.
“You brew beer?” Jack said. When she nodded, he glanced at Nichole. “Sorry, babe, but I’m going to have to leave you for Peyton.”
“No problem, but I get custody of the dogs.”
“Well now, we need to talk about that.”
“Nope. Beer or dogs. Your choice.”
“You’re just cruel, babe.”
Peyton loved their banter, and the mischievous gleam in Nichole’s eyes. Although she’d just met the woman, she knew she was going to like her.
“Peyton’s actually a master brewer,” Noah said.
“How cool.” Nichole took the bag Noah was holding and peeked inside. “I just assumed he meant you brewed beer as a hobby.” She pulled one of the bottles out and read the label.
“I brought an assortment. That one’s Elk It Now. It’s a heavier beer with hints of hazelnut coffee and spice notes. Noah tried it last night and really liked it.” Peyton took another bottle out of the bag. “This one is Island Affair. It’s a light citrus-flavored beer.”
“Oh, I have to try it. I love the fun names.”
“Yeah, the trend in naming craft beers is to go funky. We get the whole crew together when we have a new beer and start throwing out the silliest names we can think of. We have a blast.”
“I can imagine. Let’s take these babies out to the back deck. We have time to chat a little before dinner.” She wrapped her arm through Peyton’s.
“Hey,” Jack said. “Aren’t y’all forgetting something?”
Nichole glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, a bottle opener. Grab it, will you?”
“I was referring to me and Noah,” Jack muttered.
“Such fragile egos,” Nichole whispered, making Peyton laugh, and looked back again. “While you’re at it, see if you can find our ice bucket to put these in.”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else, ma’am?”
One thing Peyton really liked about Jack and Nichole was the way they seemed to enjoy teasing each other. It was fascinating to observe a couple who were clearly in love. That was the kind of relationship she wanted. One where there was mutual respect, laughter, and love. She decided then and there that she wouldn’t settle for less.
Chapter Fourteen
“What’s up with you and Peyton?”
Noah leaned back on the counter while Jack filled a bucket with ice. “Nothing’s up with us.” That wasn’t literally true. He was up anytime she was in the vicinity. Kissing her definitely wasn’t helping, and he needed to cut that out. That was proving easier said than done, though.
“Where’d you sleep last night?”
“In a bed.” What was with all the questions?
“Not the one in your apartment.” Jack’s gaze zeroed in on him. “I stopped by last night. You weren’t there.”
Noah sighed. “When did you get so nosy?”
“When you became mine to worry about.” Finished filling the pot, Jack set it
on the counter. “She’s a beautiful woman, and she seems nice. A good person.”
“But?” He knew where this was going, and he couldn’t disagree. Still, he was getting pissed. What he did or did not do with a woman wasn’t any of Jack’s concern.
“There’s always a but, yeah? This one is, are you in the right frame of mind for a relationship? Or are you just looking for an affair?”
“I have no intention of messing around with her. She asked me to camp out in her guest room for a few days until her ex gets the message that she’s done with him. I agreed, and that’s all I’m doing.” And kissing her, but he’d keep that to himself. Besides, he wasn’t going to do it again. Or she could be the one worth getting your head screwed on straight for. He needed to put a stop to that kind of thinking and the kissing. Done with this conversation, he picked up the ice bucket, then walked out.
The girls were stretched out on chaise longues. “Ice delivery.” He helped them put the bottles from the bag into the ice.
“Thanks,” Nichole said. She glanced up at Jack when he walked up. “You bring the opener, babe?”
“Don’t need one.” He took the bottle she held and twisted off the cap.
“I’m impressed.” Peyton looked at Noah and flirtatiously fluttered her eyelashes. “Are you manly enough to do that, too?”
“For you, princess, I’ll slay dragons.” Where the hell had that come from? Jack snorted, and Nichole was watching them with a curious gleam in her eyes. He didn’t like it.
He twisted the cap off, and after handing the bottle back to her, he perched on the deck railing, about as far away as he could get from her. Jack grabbed a bottle, then settled on the lounge chair next to Nichole.
“You want a beer?” Peyton asked.
“Sure.”
“What flavor?”
“I’ll stick with the Elk It Up. That’s one of Peyton’s creations,” he told Jack and Nichole. Peyton gave him a soft smile, and he wished he could take the words back. He didn’t want her soft smiles. Liar.
