by Codi Gary
“How you doing?” Best asked, sounding almost exactly like Joey from the show Friends.
“Fine, except Dale’s Diner, that place I always eat at after my run, got robbed this morning. Made me late.”
Best’s eyes widened as he looked Blake over. “Geez, that is crazy! Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, everyone is fine.” Blake didn’t really want to tell Best all the details.
“Well, that’s good.” Best grabbed the door and held it for Blake to go through first. “By the way, did you hear about the fundraiser Eve has planned for us?”
Blake grimaced, just imagining what the Alpha Dog publicist might have cooked up this time. “No, I make it a habit to avoid all of Eve’s bright ideas.”
As their publicity expert, Evelyn Reynolds was in charge of making sure people learned about the good Alpha Dog did, so they could expand to other cities across the country. She also happened to be the daughter of their commanding officer, General Reynolds, and the girlfriend of their friend Martinez. Which made it a little hard to tell her to stuff it when she asked you to dress up like a clown to visit the children’s wing at Sutter Memorial.
“Well, you’re just going to loooove this one.” Best drew out the word, indicating that Blake was going to hate whatever it was Eve had in mind.
His mood still amped up from the diner, Blake snapped, “Either tell me what it is or get the fuck out of here.”
Best grinned, and Blake wondered if he was deliberately torturing him.
“She wants us to have a Valentine’s Day singles’ event. A ball. Fifty bucks a ticket, and guess who’s the entertainment?”
Blake grimaced. “Us?”
“Bingo. We are to dance with the ladies, fetch them drinks, and all around make them happy.”
“Pass.”
“No can do, dude. It’s mandatory. Even the guys with girls are being ordered to step up,” Best said.
“I don’t care. I’m not going to spend the night flirting and catering to a bunch of women.”
Best pulled open the door to leave. “Please let me be there when you tell Eve that.”
The door shut on Best’s laughter, and Blake sat down at his desk, shaking his head. The whole morning had been a trial, and now this ball thing . . .
God, couldn’t he just get a little peace? All he wanted was to go to work, run, read, sleep, and eat. He didn’t want to go to balls or take down robbers. He just wanted to be left alone.
An image of Hannah’s smile rushed through his mind. Until this morning, he hadn’t minded being around her. Hell, he’d actually looked forward to it. Hannah was sweet, and she put him at ease.
But she’d looked at him a little differently today, and it had unnerved him, made him feel things he thought had died with his wife.
Or was it because she looked at you the way Jenny used to? As if you could conquer the world?
Blake had let Jenny down when she’d needed him the most. He should have been the one to go to the store, not her. If only . . .
Blake pushed that thought away. Today, he’d been there for Hannah, but he couldn’t give her what she ultimately wanted. His heart hadn’t been his since he was sixteen, and what was left of it was a hollow shell.
Hannah deserved more.
Chapter Six
THE NEXT MORNING, Blake skipped breakfast at Dale’s. Avoiding Hannah seemed like the best course of action under the circumstances.
But despite knowing it was a bad idea, he drove by the diner after his run, staring into the window to catch a glimpse of her. He’d had a rough night’s sleep, and it just wasn’t the same going into work without seeing Hannah’s smile.
God, he was such a selfish prick. Just because he had issues didn’t mean Hannah should be punished. He should just be honest with her, tell her that he hadn’t meant to give her the wrong impression. That he wasn’t ready for anything more than friendship. He could say that, right?
Sure, because women love the “let’s just be friends” speech.
Besides, it wasn’t just Hannah’s feelings that scared him, but his reaction to her and the guilt eating him up because of it.
He parked in front of Alpha Dog, and as he got out, he heard Best yelling his name from the front door.
“Why the fuck are you ignoring our calls, hero?”
Hero? Blake shut his door. “I left my phone here last night. Why, what’s up?”
“What’s up is that the girl you saved yesterday was on the news, singing your praises. The program’s phone has been ringing off the hook from reporters trying to get interviews with you! Eve is drooling about getting you on camera to help drum up some press about Alpha Dog. You, my friend, are a local celebrity.”
Blake wanted to run back to his car and disappear. He didn’t want to do camera interviews. He just wanted to come to work and do his job.
“No, I’m not doing any interviews. I just did what anyone would have done—”
Best slapped him on the back and broke in. “No go, mi amigo. Not everyone would have gone outside, disarmed a man with a gun, and saved the girl. You are a knight in shining armor, and Eve is going to milk the shit out of it.”
Blake greeted the guys working security and walked away from Best, who yelled after him, “You can’t escape your destiny, man!”
Blake saw Eve standing outside Sparks’s office talking to Martinez and Sparks and cursed silently. What were the chances he could duck into his office without any of them noticing him?
“Blake!”
Eve’s cheerful call made him wince. Too late.
He watched her approach, giving her what he hoped was a formidable scowl. He must have been losing his touch, because she just continued to give him that wide, red-lipped smile.
“I am so glad I caught you. You’ve been getting interview requests all morning on what happened yesterday, so I took the liberty of scheduling Channel Three to come out and interview you. Maybe watch you in action with the kids and the dogs. It will be great exposure for the program and you . . . ”
Blake’s skin pricked as she went on and on about everything she had planned for him, and finally, his temper snapped. “I don’t want any exposure. I did what needed to be done, and that is it. I’m not a trained monkey to sing and dance for you or anyone else.”
“Kline!” Sparks barked. “My office.”
Eve stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown horns, and he couldn’t blame her. Most of his friends’ girlfriends thought he was this quiet, mild-mannered guy with a sad past.
That wasn’t the whole picture, though. He hated to be pushed and had a bit of a temper—even he could admit that. So did every guy here, and right then, Sparks and Martinez were watching him as if they wanted to unleash theirs on him.
He walked past Eve and Martinez, following Sparks into the office, and closed the door behind him.
Sparks’s thunderous expression had eased slightly, and he waved his hand. “Sit down.”
Blake did it, mostly because he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what Sparks had to say and he’d be less likely to throw a punch if he was sitting.
“I get that you don’t like being in the spotlight, but I’ve been getting questions from the higher-ups on whether or not you even belong here.”
Blake stiffened. “What does that mean? I’m here. I work with the kids and teach them how to train the dogs. Exactly what more do I need to be doing?”
“For starters, you’ve been at the program a year, and yeah, you help out, but if you haven’t noticed, our squads are getting bigger, and we actually need you to take on your own. And you need a dog, man. You need to at least pretend as if you give a damn about this place and want it to succeed. You’ve been going through the motions for a year, but it’s time to commit to something.”
The muscle under Blake’s eye ticked furiously. “What are you talking about? I’m committed. My apartment just won’t let me have dogs, is all.”
“You bitch and moan about that shit hole
all the time, but you won’t leave because I think you’re afraid to actually settle in here. As if your whole life is just temporary now, but eventually, man, you will meet someone new and things will be good—”
“I don’t need a life coach, Sparks.”
Sparks’s expression darkened. “Fine. As the director of Alpha Dog, I’m telling you that part of your job here is to train a dog to use for demonstrations. That your job means you do everything in your power to spread the word and make sure it succeeds. So, you’re going to suck it up and do the interview. You’re going to be charming and say whatever Eve wants you to. And, you’re going to start looking for a place that accepts dogs and get with the program, or the next time the general wants to transfer your ass, I won’t go to bat for you.”
“I never asked you to,” Blake snapped.
“You didn’t have to. We’re all friends, and we’ve been through a lot. But while the rest of us have been slowly putting our lives back together, you—”
Blake slammed his hand down on Sparks’s desk, cutting him off. He knew that he was disrespecting his friend and his boss, but at the moment, he wasn’t thinking rationally. He was thinking about the blood pounding in his ears and that Sparks and the rest of his friends couldn’t compare their baggage to his.
“Don’t try to act as if we’re all the same. Just because we were in group therapy together doesn’t mean you know how I feel or have any say on how I conduct my personal life. You want me to pretend I’m some perfect guy that saves lives and has nothing but patience, fine, I can play, but don’t start dictating how I choose to continue living after my wife was murdered.”
Sparks leaned across the desk, his dark gaze full of pity, and Blake hated him for it. “I’m not telling you that. I’m worried about you, as are the other guys. In fact, the general suggested you go back to mandatory therapy sessions three times a week—”
Blake shoved his chair back then. “I don’t need a fucking shrink. I’m not a head case.”
“No one is calling you that, Kline . . . Kline!”
Blake stormed out without looking back, needing to breathe more than anything.
Escaping to the kennels where they kept the dogs, he walked past several barking animals, pausing in front of a huge bloodhound mix named Charge, who bayed at him as he leaned against the fenced door. The black and tan dog had to weigh nearly a hundred and fifty pounds and was taller than a purebred. His fur was wiry, even on his long, droopy ears.
Sadly, the dog was yet another reminder of a past he’d rather leave buried.
When he’d first been offered the position at Alpha Dog, it had been based on his experience with search and rescue dogs, like the ones his dad had trained while Blake was growing up. He hadn’t worked with a dog in ten years, not since he was a senior in high school, but his dad was a trainer people had respected and loved. He’d been famous, winning national competitions, and Blake had been proud to learn from him.
His mother had been an elementary school teacher, but no less cherished by their small Texas town. They’d been driving home early from a weekend trip and been hit straight on by another car. They hadn’t even made it to the hospital alive. Blake had struggled for years to remember the last thing he’d said to either one of his parents, but he just couldn’t.
All he knew was, like with Jenny, he’d never imagined that the last time they spoke would be the final time.
Blake walked straight into an empty cage next to Charge and sat at the back, sucking in calming breaths as evenly as he could manage. The thought of going in to speak to someone one-on-one was worse than group therapy. At least in group, he could hide behind the guys who wouldn’t shut up.
One-on-one, the focus would be all on him.
Deep down, he knew Sparks was just trying to help. He was a good friend, but Blake was already confused and struggling with feelings he never thought would surface again. Maybe he’d be better off asking for a transfer instead of getting more involved in the program.
But Blake loved working at Alpha Dog. He enjoyed the kids and the dogs. He was just being a selfish dick again. Thinking about his feelings before anyone else’s.
Charge the bloodhound stuck his nose through the chain-link kennel, sniffing at him. Blake slipped his fingers through the small hole and stroked the dog’s soft black and tan muzzle, laughing as he pushed harder against the fence, attempting to get better pets.
“I see you’re already acquainted with your new trainee.”
Blake glanced toward the front of the kennel where Best stood watching him pet Charge.
He climbed to his feet with a grunt, ignoring Charge as he jumped up onto the side of the kennel. “I can’t have a dog in my current place.”
“I understand that, but I also know that Sparks told you to start looking for one.” As Blake walked out of the kennel, glaring at him, Best grabbed the leash off the door. “Look, I’ve got my hands full, and you’re the only one not fostering. Besides, this guy is perfect for you.”
Best got the door open, and an ear-splitting howl erupted from Charge, who pushed past Best and flew at Blake. When the dog placed his massive paws on Blake’s shoulders, it knocked him flat on his back. The hard cement floor knocked the wind out of him, and he lay there frozen for a second, wheezing.
As he tried to breathe again, he found himself staring into Charge’s loose-skinned face, the animal’s brown eyes hidden beneath the folds.
The dog panted in his face, his breath noxious. And then he was howling again.
He could hear Best cracking up. “Well, aren’t you two getting along like two peas in a pod.”
Blake reached up and grabbed the dog’s long ears, pushing them back. “Get this thing off me.”
Best dragged Charge off him, and Blake sat up slowly. “What the hell is he?”
“My best guess is Irish wolfhound and bloodhound mix. He’s been here three weeks, but most of the trainers were intimidated by his size.”
“Yeah, I understand. He’s massive. I can’t take him home with me! My landlord will shit himself.”
“This guy has no training as far as I can tell but is a natural for search and rescue. I shoved your sweatshirt under his nose earlier, and he went straight for you.”
“Even if I find a place, it will take time to move in. I’m just not ready for him.”
Best’s face lost its smile. “We’ll keep him here for now, but he’s yours to train. When you’re here, I want you working with him. If you want to prove you’re committed to the program, now is your chance.”
Best held the leash out to him, and Blake took it reluctantly.
“Fine, I’ll train him.”
“Good. Because I have an ulterior motive.”
Blake suppressed a smile. “Of course you do.”
“I want to use you two this summer in the Hound It Search and Rescue Tournament in Montana. If you win, it could mean national coverage for Alpha Dog, and we could open two more locations.”
Blake looked down at the hound’s lolling tongue. “You want me to have this guy ready for a national competition in five months?”
“Yeah. Figured it would be easy peasy for you.”
Before Blake could scoff, Bryce popped her head in and sighed loudly. “There you two are! If you’re done diddling each other, maybe you could actually do some work so the rest of us don’t have to babysit your kids, too?”
She shut the door without waiting for a response, and Blake caught Best’s scowl.
“Sometimes I think Megan’s cool, just one of us . . . and then it feels as though I’ve got another annoying sister to watch out for.”
Blake chuckled, as he had the exact same feelings about their coworker.
“Okay, well, I’ll go get my squad under control, and you bring Charge out when you’re ready. I’ve assembled a nice collection of brats for you to mold and shape in your image.” Best paused and frowned. “Okay, maybe not your image. Someone cheerier. Like me.”
“Fuck you
.”
“See. Always so grumpy.” Best took off toward the door before Blake could take a swing, leaving him alone with Charge.
He looked down at the big dog again. He should start looking for a new place. Somewhere in Orangevale or Roseville; not too far from Highway 80, but in a nicer area, where his car was less likely to get broken into again.
This was the last of his self-involved wallowing. Once he left the kennel, he’d start acting like he gave a damn and take the first step in moving on. He’d go to therapy and fake it until the doctor assured Sparks and the general that he was in perfect mental health. That he was committing to Alpha Dog wholly.
Finding a new place was the best way to show that. It was also the least terrifying of the steps he could be taking.
Chapter Seven
HANNAH CLIMBED THE steps to her parents’ home, ringing the bell. Since she no longer lived there, she always knocked or rang the bell, and it drove her mom nuts. Holding the Chinese food she’d picked up for dinner, Hannah chuckled as she heard Uncle Miggons, her parents’ spoiled Pomeranian, barking hysterically from the other side.
“Shut it, Migs!” her dad snapped from inside the house, and then the door swung open. He looked down at her from his impressive height with feigned annoyance, his bushy white brows drawn together. He still kept his hair in a military buzz, something that hadn’t changed since he was honorably discharged from the army when she was fifteen.
“Is there a reason you can’t use a doorknob?” he asked.
Hannah stepped inside and stood on tiptoe, kissing his rough, whiskered cheek. “Nice to see you, too, Daddy. I figured it was locked. It’s not safe to leave your doors open when any crazy person could just stroll in.”
Her dad scoffed. “And I’ve got a thirty-eight that will be happy to greet them.”
Hannah didn’t bother responding. Her dad reminded her of a character from a John Wayne movie; a tough-talking man with a rough exterior and a heart of gold. At least, that’s the way her mom described him. Hannah had never actually watched a single John Wayne movie, despite numerous attempts by her parents to force one of the classics on her.
