by Regan Black
If by “like him” she meant huge and black and furry, then he guessed she was right. Still… “Maybe he’ll get adopted,” he ventured, hoping to reassure her.
“It’s a high-kill shelter,” she replied. “And dogs that are surrendered by owner have less time than strays. He’s only four years old and I’ve had him since he was a puppy. How can I possibly do that to him? How?”
And she started weeping in earnest, dropping to her knees and wrapping her frail arms around the large dog. Gus allowed this, even going so far as to attempt to lick away her tears.
“What kind of dog is he?” Kyle heard himself ask.
“He’s a Belgian shepherd,” she said, her voice garbled with sorrow. “And a good boy. A really good boy.”
He couldn’t say what got him more. The absolute heartbreaking love the old woman bore for her pet, or the stoic support the dog gave in return. The intelligence in the animal’s eyes suggested he knew, maybe not exactly what was going to happen, but that it wasn’t good.
“I’ve seen dogs like that before,” he told her, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “In the military. They were trained for bomb detection.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Pushing to her feet, she wiped away her tears. “They’re a very smart breed. And Gus is smarter than any other dog I’ve ever owned. I’ve taught him to sit and lie down, to come and to roll over. He’ll even give you his paw to shake.”
He nodded, not quite sure what to say.
“Are you interested in giving him a home?” she asked, her voice quivering, her eyes pleading. “You’d come to love him, and he you. And you’d be saving his life.”
Maybe it was the last sentence, or perhaps the force of her desperation, but he nodded. “I’ll take him. But can you show me what kind of food he eats and tell me how much to feed him?”
And so twenty minutes and seventy-five dollars later, Kyle found himself the proud owner of a twenty-pound bag of dog food, bowls and a Belgian shepherd named Gus. He’d even promised to let his former owner visit him.
* * *
After an incredibly frustrating day dealing with the fire department, the sheriff’s office and her insurance agent, all Nicole wanted to do was get home and put her feet up.
In reality, she couldn’t go home—the fire captain had told her he hoped to soon have her house cleared for her to retrieve personal belongings, but it wouldn’t be today.
So Kyle’s house would have to do. She’d been lugging Jacob around so much all day that her arm and shoulder ached. When she saw his truck parked in the driveway, her heart rate kicked up.
After the day they’d had, even normally good-natured Jacob had gotten cranky. He needed to be changed and fed, in that order. She hoped once he had a full tummy, she could put him in his little play yard and he’d amuse himself with the brightly lit strand of plastic toys.
Despite everything that had happened, she got a rush just knowing she’d see Kyle again.
With Jacob in her arms, her overloaded diaper bag on her shoulder, she hurried into the house, using the key Kyle had given her.
The house was quiet, the television off. Sunlight streamed in through the big picture window. Kyle had taken a seat in the den, in the armchair facing the door, almost as if he were waiting for her. He held a book or pamphlet in his hands, like he’d been doing some reading.
She stopped short, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the shaggy giant black dog at Kyle’s feet. A dog? Had she left the browser open on Kyle’s computer to the article she’d read about PTSD service dogs?
“Hey,” he greeted her, looking up from a pamphlet he’d been reading. The animal looked up, regarding her with sad eyes. Immediately, her heart constricted.
“Where’d he—or she—come from?” she asked.
“He. His name is Gus.” And he told her a story about meeting a crying elderly woman downtown in front of the pet store. “He’s mine now,” Kyle finished. She couldn’t tell from his tone if this made him happy or not.
Settling Jacob into his Pack n’ Play, she made her way slowly and carefully toward the huge dog. Gus raised his giant head, watching her closely. He gave three swift thumps of his plumed tail, letting her know he meant no harm.
When her fingers connected with his fur, she stroked him. “He’s amazingly soft,” she said.
“I gave him a bath.” He studied his new pet. “I’m hoping once he gets used to being here—and me—he won’t look so sad.”
As she opened her mouth to agree with him, a loud crack of sound made her jump. Kyle took a dive from his chair to the floor. And Gus…in a flash the dog put himself in between the door and Kyle.
Outside, tires squealed and a vehicle gunned its engine, racing away.
At first, Nicole wasn’t sure what to think. Kyle, still prone on the floor, appeared stricken. All the color had leached from his face. While she wasn’t entirely sure if it would be better to attempt to comfort him or to pretend nothing untoward had happened, she made a split decision to go with the latter.
“What the heck was that?” she asked, heading for the door. The dog immediately got in front of her, blocking her way. She could have sworn the animal tried to herd her back to Kyle.
“Stay down,” Kyle ordered, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Whatever you do, don’t get in front of that window.”
Though she obeyed, she worried. Was this part of his PTSD? While the sound could have been many things, she suspected it had been nothing more than a car backfiring. Or something equally harmless.
Except neither Kyle nor Gus appeared to think so. Now that she was no longer in danger, the black beast had returned to Kyle’s side, leaning his huge, hairy body against him, as if offering a canine version of comfort.
Absently, Kyle tangled one hand in the animal’s fur.
“Look.” Kyle pointed, his eyes narrowed in what looked like fury. “There, the entryway wall directly across from the front door. That sure looks like a bullet.”
Taking her cue from him, Nicole crawled over in the direction he’d pointed. Stunned, she realized he’d been right. “There’s a bullet lodged here in the wall,” she said. Turning, she checked out the front door, which was a weathered older wooden thing. “It went right through the front door. If one of us had been standing there, we could have been shot. What if I’d been holding Jacob?” Considering what could have happened, she started to shake.
“Jacob could have been hurt or killed.” She could barely get the words out through clenched teeth. “Who would do such an awful thing?”
“Come here.” He sat up, beckoned her over.
Though she wasn’t entire sure what he meant, she complied, crawling over to sit next to him on the floor.
He hugged her again, this time just holding her, so tightly it felt as if he were both giving her strength and taking comfort from her as well.
“Someone is after you,” she said. “But why?”
He gave her such a bleak look that she understood without him having to say a single word. If someone was after him, it was because of her. The shooter either truly believed Kyle had killed Bill so he could have Nicole, or their animosity toward him was because she was staying with him.
“It’s all my fault that someone wants to kill you,” she said softly. “We need to call the sheriff.”
“Yes, we do,” he agreed, his expression grave as he reached for his phone. “Because there’s one other possibility you’re overlooking. It’s entirely possible someone wants you dead, Nicole.”
CHAPTER 11
The sheriff himself showed up to take the report, the grim set of his mouth a hint as to his mood. “Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go, doesn’t it?” he said to Nicole.
Though Kyle didn’t appreciate that remark, he kept his mouth shut, waiting to see how Nicole would react. When she onl
y smiled sadly, as if in agreement, he knew he had to intervene.
Stepping forward so he drew the portly sheriff’s attention, Kyle cleared his throat. “I don’t think it’s fair of you to insinuate that any of this is Nicole’s fault.” He kept his tone even and quiet. He watched as the other man studied him.
Finally, Sheriff Cantrell nodded. “You’re right. But son, that was only a joke. You see, I’ve known Nicole since she was knee-high. My wife and I go to church with her parents.” His tone seemed to indicate that this should be the end of it.
But then Nicole stepped up to stand beside Kyle. “I do understand that, Sheriff. But this has been an awful time for me. I’m scared and I’m stressed. How about you cut me a little slack?”
At this, the older man had the grace to apologize. “I’m sorry. Now why don’t you two tell me exactly what happened, so I can make my report and get out of your hair.”
As he stepped into the room, Gus rose from where he’d been lying near the sofa. Huge head cocked, the dog studied the man as if performing threat assessment. Kyle had seen a few military dogs act exactly the same way, making him wonder again about his new pet’s background. But now, the woman had said she’d had him as a puppy. This meant there was no way Gus could have served.
The entire time they answered the sheriff’s questions, Gus watched quietly from the same spot. When the older man finally finished and turned to go, Gus pushed to his feet and followed him toward the door. The sheriff eyed the huge animal more than once, more curious than uneasy, but didn’t comment or make any move to pet Gus.
Kyle stood next to Nicole with his dog at his side and watched Sheriff Cantrell drive off. Though he ached to touch her, he managed to keep his distance.
“Thank you for coming to my defense earlier,” she said softly. “I appreciate it.”
He shook his head. “You handled yourself pretty damn well.”
Her eyes shone as she smiled at him, making his chest ache. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m learning to stand up for myself.”
Damn. His entire body blazed with the need to touch her, kiss her, press his body against her and show her exactly how proud he was. But he couldn’t, or he shouldn’t, so he didn’t. Instead, he forced his legs to move and walked away from her without another word, into the kitchen. “I’m making tacos for dinner,” he announced, even though he knew she’d followed him.
When he turned, she was right there. So was Gus. The dog eyed the package of hamburger meat hopefully.
“Tacos sound great,” she said. “Is there anything I can help you do?”
“No.”
She didn’t move.
“Did you need something?” he finally asked, carefully impersonal even though his damn heart had started up that rapid tattoo beat again. He didn’t want food, he wanted her. And he had to do his damndest to keep that from showing.
Surprise and then hurt flashed across her mobile face. She shook her head and backed away so fast it was a miracle she didn’t stumble and fall. At first, she left Jacob playing, but at the last moment, she picked him up, crooning to him softly as she carried him away.
Kyle almost called her back. Almost. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kept busy browning hamburger meat.
When everything was done, he called her name. She returned a moment later, all solemn and serious, which usually meant she’d want to talk. Which he definitely did not want to do. He needed to process this—all of it. His overwhelming need for her, their shared past, her recent one and the fact that someone clearly wanted to harm her.
If they were going to talk, that’s what they needed to discuss. A list of potential suspects that they could give to the police.
After setting up a place near the table for Jacob to play with his rattle toy, she looked at Kyle. “With all that’s going on, I’m not letting him out of my sight,” she said. He agreed that was wise, still keeping his tone as impersonal as possible.
Despite this, in spite of his best attempts, electricity still swirled in the air around them, making it difficult to breathe normally. Her every movement, the rustle of her clothing, the faint scent of her body lotion, all overwhelmed his senses. He wondered if she felt it too, the über-sensitivity and the constant thrum of desire, or if this insanity belonged only to him.
She certainly appeared unaffected with her relaxed posture and easy movements.
They ate in relative silence. In addition to the taco meat, he had warmed both flour and corn tortillas, chopped fresh tomato and lettuce, shredded cheese, and gotten out some salsa. She had three tacos and declared herself stuffed, sitting back in her chair with a satisfied grin. Again, he marveled at how her smile affected him, wondering if she had any idea. Though he’d already eaten four tacos, he reached for another, which he ate as slowly as possible, mostly to avoid any chance of discussion. Discussion, hell, he wanted to pull her from that chair right on top of him, and touch and kiss her until they’d shed their clothes and he’d buried himself deep inside her.
The image not only made him burn, but his body swelled with arousal. At his feet, Gus raised his shaggy head and eyed the leftovers, despite the fact that Kyle had just filled the dog’s bowl with kibble, which Gus devoured in less than three minutes.
“I’ll clean up,” Nicole announced, the instant he finished, clearly unaware of the way his desire for her clouded his every thought. “Thank you for a great meal.” Her bright and cheerful tone made him realize she was doing the exact same thing as he—working hard to keep all interaction to the surface. Banal and friendly.
Which suited him fine. And didn’t. His entire being wanted her, craved her, but his mind kept warning him against it. Maybe they should talk. Talking would be better than sitting here with detailed erotic images filling his head.
“I never did get to tell you about my day,” she said, her back to him while she rinsed dishes and put them in his dishwasher.
He latched on to this quickly. “No, you didn’t. What happened?”
“The police are still working all leads, the fire department has an arson investigation going on and my insurance won’t pay me a dime while I’m under an arson investigation.” She said the words matter-of-factly, her back straight and her posture rigid.
“In other words,” she continued. “No one is going to make a move to repair my house until they make sure I wasn’t the one who set it on fire.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing the words were inadequate. “Hopefully they’ll figure out something soon.”
“Will they?” She put the last pan away and dried her hands on a dish towel. Turning to face him, she shook her head. “I’m beginning to feel like the entire world is against me.”
He had no words for that, especially since he’d felt the exact same way since he’d returned home and learned the one woman he’d expected to always be there for him had married another man.
Sadness darkened her eyes at his lack of response. “Time for me to bathe Jacob,” she said, gathering up their son. “After that, I’ll probably be reading in my room. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded, managing an impersonal smile even though relief mingled with disappointment. “I’ll try to keep the TV volume down so it doesn’t disturb you.”
When she left the room carrying Jacob, he hoped he could finally relax. He planted himself on the couch, pulled up an action/adventure movie and tried like hell to concentrate on anything but Nicole.
* * *
The next morning, Kyle woke up early. After showering and downing two cups of strong black coffee, he headed to Walmart, where he picked up a complete security camera system. He spent the rest of the day installing it on the outside of his house.
“There,” he told Nicole when he’d finished. “Now we’ll have video. I think we’ll all sleep better tonight.”
“Between that and your big dog, I think we’re well p
rotected,” she said with a wry grimace.
She seemed a bundle of nervous energy, constantly in motion, as if afraid to stop. He watched as she kept herself occupied with busywork. She’d made muffins, arranged them on a platter and had put herself to work reorganizing his pantry. Since he’d just kind of shoved stuff in there with no real method of organization, he welcomed the help, though he wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to do this now.
“This afternoon is Grandparents’ Day at my mother’s church,” she finally told him. “I’m letting her take Jacob. To be honest, I’m a little bit nervous.”
“A little bit?” He raised one brow.
“Fine. I’m terrified.” She swallowed hard. “My mom has never been alone with Jacob. I’m worried she won’t know what to do.”
“She raised you, didn’t she?”
She nodded.
“And there will be a lot of other grandparents there to help her. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Though he wasn’t sure if his words helped reassure her, when he ran into her as she was about to leave to drop Jacob off, she seemed much calmer.
As he watched her bundle Jacob up in the back of her car, he felt the unfamiliar urge to go out there and kiss his son goodbye. Instead, he watched until she’d driven away, and then got into his own truck and drove to the army recruiting office. Though they’d never followed through on actually calling him in to work, he’d gotten into the habit of occasionally stopping by and shooting the breeze with whoever was on duty that day. It was a pleasant way of occupying an hour or two and made him feel connected to the organization that had once represented his entire world.
When he got home ninety minutes later, he was surprised to see Nicole had not yet returned. He figured she was probably out running errands, enjoying as best she could her status as child-free for a few hours.
He made himself a tall glass of iced tea and sat down at the kitchen table with his laptop, checking his email. Several of his ranger buddies emailed to check in on him. Since they regaled him with nonclassified stories, he looked forward to reading these emails.
