He walked slowly down the corridor, trying to be careful of her foot and keep an eye on her expressions as they headed farther into the establishment. The corridor was lined with windows looking into a sweetly decorated lounge. The walls were painted in vertical stripes of cream and pink, accented by large cupcakes.
Incidentally, the large cupcakes were shelves—for cats.
They were scattered all around the room. Felines of all sizes and colors lay on the shelves, sat cleaning themselves in the windows, and took up positions of honor on the sofas. A few smaller kittens tumbled across the floor playing with some sort of automated fluffy toy.
“Irasshai-mase!” A young lady emerged from behind the hostess desk and rushed to Forte’s side. “Oh! You’re here to visit? Let’s get you settled before we worry about any of the official stuff. Did you want cats or coffee first?”
Forte looked pointedly at Sophie.
Her attention was riveted on the windows into the cat lounge.
Sighing, he craned his neck to make eye contact with their hostess instead. “It’s all about the cats.” Though he could definitely do with a cup of coffee.
The hostess opened another door, gesturing for him to enter the lounge. “Welcome to our cat café. Please be gentle when playing with our feline friends and enjoy yourselves.”
Forte walked in slowly, hoping any cats would avoid his boots until he had a chance to get Sophie situated. He set her down on a mint green couch, making sure her right foot remained elevated.
“Oh, here. Will this help?” The hostess offered him a felt pillow in the shape of a cheerful rice ball.
This was definitely Sophie’s kind of cute immersion. “Sure. Thanks…”
“Kaseri. Most people call me Katherine if they can’t manage the Japanese version.” The hostess smiled. She had a nice face, round with dark eyes. Her hair was tied in twin ponytails at the base of her skull.
Cats were already starting to approach Sophie. She was completely gone, ignoring the other humans in the room. Good. This was the right place to bring her, then. Forte glanced down at the orange tabby winding its way between his boots. “Well, Kaseri, it’s nice to meet you. How much for the coffee?”
“Five dollars. There’re also toys you can buy for the cats.”
He reached for his wallet and handed over the cash.
Kaseri took the money with a smile and glanced at Sophie’s leg. “I’ll be back with your receipt. In the meantime, take your time and enjoy. Don’t worry about any time limits.”
Forte nodded his thanks and turned his attention back to Sophie. She was literally covered in cats. Apparently, they liked her. Carefully lifting his boot clear of the orange tabby, he stepped closer and kneeled down next to Sophie.
Her eyes shone with happiness again and her lips were curved in a bright smile. One cat had hopped onto the back of the couch and was rubbing its face into her hair while another had climbed up her chest to nuzzle her face. The others were making themselves comfortable on her lap and, hell, there was one play-attacking her medical boot.
“None of that now.” He carefully got hold of the overly enthusiastic kitty by the scruff and lifted it away from her foot. He kicked a stuffed mouse so it bounced along the floor. “Here.”
The enthusiastic kitty happily pounced on the mouse toy.
Sophie giggled. “I’m so used to seeing you around the big working dogs; being surrounded by cats is a change.”
He glowered at her. Anyone else would’ve gotten nervous or backed away. Not her. She only laughed, cuddling as many cats as she could at a time.
“This definitely made this a better day. I didn’t know they were open yet.” Sophie nuzzled a particularly small, cute cat that had managed to perch on her shoulder.
He’d kept track ever since she’d mentioned a news article on the place. “It’s an interesting business concept. I’m not sure if there’s a potential for a dog version, though. Maybe.”
Not that he had that sort of business in mind, but it was always an interesting mental exercise to consider possibilities.
“Oh!” Sophie was very enamored of the kitty on her shoulder. It was a soft cream color with darker fur on its nose, ear tips, and paws. “A dog café would totally be popular. German Shepherd Dogs, Belgian Malinois, and Labrador Retrievers can be warm and fuzzy snuggle buddies, too.”
He snorted. He couldn’t help it. “I’m not sure Atlas, Souze, Haydn, or any of the dogs would be immediately described as ‘fuzzy snuggle buddies.’”
“They can be.” Sophie had some of her steel back in her voice, too.
She had a caring heart and a fierceness to her when it came to any of his dogs. There’d been plenty of times when he’d first started the training school when it’d been Sophie’s trust in his dogs that had shown others the intimidating canines could be friendly and sociable. She’d been a diplomat of sorts for his kennels in the first year or two.
“Here’s your receipt.” Kaseri was back. She bent to pet a few of the cats and caught sight of Sophie with her new cream-colored friend. “All of these cats are from a nearby shelter, by the way. They’re fostered here, but they are available for adoption. That little girl was tossed in a Dumpster not too long ago, trapped in a trash bag.”
“No!” Sophie cuddled the cat in question close.
Uh-oh.
Chapter Six
Sophie clutched the handle of the brand-new cat carrier as Brandon set her down on the landing in front of her apartment. He needed to stop carrying her, especially there in front of her apartment where one of her neighbors would see. A long childhood of hearing “what will people think” made her extremely uncomfortable with exposing herself to the curiosity of the people in her family’s social circle.
But she didn’t say anything to him. Not after he’d done so much over the past couple of days, including helping her get through today.
“Doormat is in the right place. No marks on the door handle or doorjamb. Let me go in first and clear the apartment,” Brandon murmured. “Come just inside the door behind me and stand in the corner, please.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. His caution was frightening, but comforting, too. If he was this vigilant, then something bad couldn’t happen again, could it?
She didn’t ask. Instead, she prepared to look for anything out of place once they were inside. The women’s self-defense workshops at Revolution MMA taught awareness, perception. If she saw so much as one of her blankets moved or a blind bent, she’d be ready to let Brandon know.
He paused a foot away from the beginning edge of her apartment door’s silhouette as he gently placed his knuckles on the doorknob. The memory of Sifu Gary’s voice whispered in her head.
Is the door hot? Is there a zap of electricity? That might not be static. Try to notice anything unusual.
Less than second later Brandon tried the knob, silently turning it and pushing. The door was locked, as it should be. He inserted her key into the deadbolt and turned it, leaving the key there and turning the doorknob. As soon as the bolts were clear of the door frame, he forcefully slapped the door open hard. She couldn’t help it; she jumped at the impact. And that was the point; it was supposed to startle anyone waiting directly inside her apartment.
Haydn had crowded forward at Brandon’s heel, and Sophie did her best to do the same without actually touching either of them.
They waited there, silent, as a full heartbeat was allowed to pass.
No explosion. No shot rang out from an ambusher lying in wait. Just silence. Sophie’s chest was tight with apprehension, almost wishing they’d found something. So they could relax.
Brandon murmured a command so quiet, she had no idea what he’d said. But Haydn had heard him and proceeded forward in a cautious crouch.
Brandon followed, springing around the doorjamb with his weapon up, walking heel-toe to keep the barrel level. Alex had demonstrated the technique once at Revolution MMA. Brandon moved away from the hinges of the door, establis
hing his cone of fire from the far corner of Sophie’s living room to the near wall.
She waited for them both by the still-open door, pressed into the corner and out of sight of anyone outside the apartment. She’d had workshops on this, seen the demonstrations, and committed to memory the reasons behind the procedures. It’d been fascinating, a glimpse into the life Brandon had led while he’d been away.
But the reality of being in the midst of it was terrifying. She balled her fists together and did her best to keep her eyes open, looking for anything out of place.
Brandon and Haydn worked as a cohesive team, systematically checking every nook and cranny of her home, even spaces no adult could fit into. She lost sight of them as they entered her bedroom, and there were more loud bangs as Brandon slammed open her closet and bathroom doors.
But there were no warning barks or snarls from Haydn. There was no shout or person charging out of some hiding place. In a few moments, Brandon was back with Haydn at his side. Without leaning out of the front door, Brandon moved to the left and right, looking as far down the entryway outside as he could. Then he retrieved her key, closed the door, and locked it.
“Clear.” His voice was eerily calm and devoid of tone. A different man had spoken in that moment. A new facet of him she’d never encountered.
As he turned to her, she was caught in his gaze. His hazel eyes were tending toward deep green this evening. It dawned on her that he’d always spared her the direct intensity of his stare in the years since he’d returned and established Hope’s Crossing Kennels. He’d been giving her space and letting her fall in at his side in their easygoing friendship.
But things were changing fast and it was coming from both of them.
When he came to a stop, it was way inside her personal space. The cat carrier bumped his legs, and he might’ve come closer if she hadn’t had it in front of her. Instead, he braced one hand to the right of her head and leaned in until his forehead touched hers.
They stayed like that for a moment, and she let her lids close as she took in his proximity. He smelled like fabric softener and aftershave even after spending the afternoon out. Her heart rate was picking up, and butterflies were morphing into full-size mourning doves in her belly. If she listened hard enough, she thought she might be able to hear his heartbeat synching with hers.
When he pulled away, she leaned forward but he had retreated a step.
“You should ice your ankle, then get some sleep.” His voice had turned gravelly.
She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, maybe not anything intelligent, but something. But nothing came out because she wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen.
Brandon reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, turning the touch into a caress along the side of her face that ended with his thumb gently placed over her lips. “You’ve gone through insanity in the past couple of days. It’s a lot to process. I can stay out here in the living room to watch over you, or I can be nearby. It’s your choice.”
But he hadn’t given her the choice of addressing the chemistry sparking up between them. Frustration welled up inside her and she set her jaw.
But his gaze was gentle, caring, and earnest. “You ought to get rest, Sophie. Tomorrow’s another day.”
Ought to. Yes. Practical Sophie always did what she ought to do. The frustration fizzled out. He meant well. He had her well-being in mind. And if they pursued anything past that one kiss, they might not be able to be friends anymore.
The memory of their kiss burned on her lips, but right then, she really needed her best friend, Brandon, to face tomorrow.
She breathed out a sigh. “I think I need my apartment to myself tonight to get my head straight. I want to manage on my own, get myself the things I need, and just get a good night’s sleep.”
She needed to figure out what she wanted to do about her career, what she wanted in life. And she needed to do it before she pulled Brandon into the mix.
His acceptance was a simple nod. He backed away even farther and opened the door out of her apartment.
“Call me and I will be here.” His promise resonated deep inside her chest. “Good night, Sophie.”
* * *
“Forte.” Rojas gave him a wave from beside his parked SUV.
Forte acknowledged Rojas with a lift of his chin, then headed in his direction. Along the way, he made a visual check of the parking lot and surrounding area. Rojas would’ve done the same. They weren’t making an attempt to hide their presence, either. If this was a move to hurt the men of Hope’s Crossing Kennels by targeting one of their own, Forte wanted their adversary to know Sophie wasn’t an easy target simply because she didn’t live on the kennel grounds.
Cruz had stayed behind to keep watch at the kennels, but Rojas had brought their new client out to meet Forte face-to-face.
“Raul Sa, meet Brandon Forte, owner of Hope’s Crossing Kennels.” Rojas kept the introductions short. They’d all be doing plenty of talking later, focusing on what they really wanted to know about—dogs.
“Good to meet you.” Sa offered his hand. “I hear good things about your dogs.”
Forte nodded and extended his own hand. They shook and took each other’s measure. Sa had a firm grip, not too forceful. Apparently, the man didn’t feel he had something to prove. He had a calm demeanor, not reserved so much as peaceful. The shadows in the man’s eyes and the tendency to set his jaw were subtle tells, though. Raul Sa might be carrying some internal baggage, but didn’t they all? He kept it contained and projected quiet confidence.
Good signs in a dog handler. The dog picked up the mood of the handler. A nervous handler resulted in a nervous dog and a team that made mistakes. Calm confidence in the human gave a dog the reassurance needed to face any of the potential situations they might be headed into and inspired immediate response with any command. It was about absolute trust.
“Sa was Army. He’s recently returned with an honorable discharge.” Rojas continued to bring Forte up to speed. “He’s entering the private sector and is looking for a new partner.”
Sa nodded. “I was mostly stationed abroad contributing to combat operations by providing target odor detection.”
“Explosives or narcotics?” Forte could train his dogs to detect either on command. The dogs were smart enough to learn to recognize the types of scents just fine, but it wasn’t common to find a dog who could learn to differentiate what his handler wanted him to find. It required extra training for both the dog and the handler to develop the enhanced communication.
“Human. We specialized in high-value target location and acquisition.” Which explained some of the shadows around Sa’s eyes. Teams trained to track humans in those kinds of situations faced a lot of hard decisions. “My partner was retired when I was discharged, but she’s too old for ongoing duty. My father’s former military and adopted her, so she’s still in the family and with people who understand her. She gets all the tennis balls she wants. She earned them.”
Forte grunted. All lined up with what they’d figured from Beckhorn’s recommendation. “How did you know Beckhorn?”
The corner of Sa’s mouth lifted. “Met him during phase-two training. Man knows his dogs.”
Yeah, he did. Beckhorn was a key part of the training program at Lackland Air Force Base. There were instances when the various military branches came together or conducted cross-training. The program for military working dogs was one of them.
But Sa wasn’t here on behalf of the U.S. military. Forte cocked his head to one side. “What skill sets are you looking for from one of our dogs?”
“I’m joining a private military contract organization. It was established years ago, but it’s changing its base of operations to Hawaii and rebuilding. I did a couple of joint missions with their squad while I was still active duty.” Sa rolled his shoulders. The memory of some of those missions might weigh heavier on the man than others. “This team specializes in search and extraction, VIP p
rotection, and high-value target retrieval.”
Forte raised his eyebrows. There weren’t many private teams like that. It was extremely specialized, even for his working dogs. But they could be the difference between the rescue of a hostage and that person disappearing from existence.
“Combat or stealth?” It may or may not matter when it came to the specific dog, but Forte wanted to know in general. Sometimes a client wanted a team to go in the front door and make a lot of noise while they were at it. Other times, the client needed a team to go in and get out without ever showing up in the public eye.
“Stealth, for the most part.” Sa chuckled. “With private work, sometimes the missions turn out to be a little less defined, from what I hear.”
Forte had considered private contracting. Hell, it was a valid career option after military service, to be sure. He’d made a different choice, but he did like to keep contacts out there with good people in the business. When it’d come down to it, he’d opted for the simpler way of life when it came to training dogs. Every day wasn’t a balance of ethics and finance.
“Get settled tonight. Let’s have you work with one of the dogs tomorrow and see if there’s a connection.” He had his impressions, and so far, Sa was a good candidate. Ultimately, though, Forte would let the dog judge the man. “Rojas will get you started and I’ll be on site in the morning.”
Sa looked around them. “You all seem to be somewhat stretched for resources.”
Forte met the other man’s steady gaze. There was nothing but professional interest. No malice. “We’ve got a situation in need of careful attention.”
“Understood.” Sa paused. “If I, or my team, can help, let me know.”
Forte nodded. This wasn’t just about the acquisition of a working dog. This was an offer of a business relationship. “Thanks.”
Networking. Connections. Considering the suspicions Forte had about Sophie’s safety, they could come in handy if they cleared Cruz’s background checks.
Absolute Trust Page 7
