by Gary, Codi
“Get the fuck off me, you dumb ass!”
Eve craned her head, and if she’d been able to breathe, she’d have laughed.
Beast had jumped on top of Oliver’s back and was now laying on him, giving new meaning to the term dog pile. Finally, Oliver rolled and both he and Beast landed on the ground. Eve turned on her side, holding her stomach as she exploded into giggles.
“Well, you were definitely right about him having issues,” Oliver grumbled, sending her into another fit of laughter. Tears were leaking out of the corner of her eyes, and she couldn’t seem to stop. At least she wouldn’t need to add any saline to her eyes to lube up her contact lenses.
When she calmed down enough to speak, she wiped at her eyes and sat up. “How can you be mad at that face?” She looked at Beast’s flat face and teased, “He just wanted to play, too.”
Suddenly, Oliver’s face was inches from hers. “The kind of play I had in mind definitely didn’t involve him.”
His words created a dull ache between her legs, sobering her. He said all the right things, made her crazy, and yet, doubt and caution were slowly outweighing her lust.
Her father had pretty much told her he didn’t like Oliver, and despite how good she felt now, what would happen after they had satisfied this electric attraction? They still had the event in two weeks, and if anything went south between them, it would make things awkward.
And it would go south eventually, because as much as she wanted to deny it now, throw caution to the wind, and jump his bones, they could barely be around each other without insulting one another.
Clearing her throat, she got up from the couch and retrieved her bag. “Yes, well, we should really concentrate on the auction.”
She started toward the kitchen table, but quick as lightening, he was on his feet and he caught her arm, his expression concerned. Maybe a little confused.
She was right there with him.
“Whoa, two seconds ago we were about to rip each other’s clothes off, and now you’re acting like you’ve got ice in your veins. What’s going on? Did I say something to piss you off again?”
“No, you didn’t piss me off. I’m just stating facts. We have to work together, at least for the next few weeks, so it’s not a good idea to get too . . . intimate.”
“Because you don’t like me?”
She caught herself before she yelled no. “I didn’t say that.”
“So, you do like me.” It was a statement—one that both irritated and embarrassed her.
“I will admit, I am attracted to you, but I don’t know you well enough to like you.” Eve walked around him to the table and started unloading her folders and iPad.
“So, what do you gotta know to determine if I’m likable?” he asked, sitting across from her.
Eve sighed. Loudly. “Oliver—”
“Have I mentioned I like the way you say my name?”
“Sergeant Martinez, I don’t think—”
“Now, that’s just cold, dulzura,” he said.
“I am not your honey,” she snapped, sitting down. He seemed surprised she’d understood, so she explained. “I took Spanish for four years in high school and had a summer break in Mexico. Now, can we please get this done? I want to get home before The Walking Dead comes on.”
“Why don’t you watch it here? I’ve got cable, and we could order that pizza we never got to eat.”
Eve bit the inside of her cheek, nearly groaning in frustration. “Man, you just don’t give up, do you?”
“No,” he said firmly. Then he sat forward and caught her hand before she could pull it back. “Quiero que seas mía.”
Eve’s heart slammed in her chest as she silently translated his words.
I want you to be mine.
“Stop it.” Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she jerked her hand away. “No pizza. No Walking Dead with you, and definitely no being yours.”
Oliver’s ocean blue eyes bore into hers until she had to look away, afraid he’d see that she wasn’t as strong as she sounded.
“Okay, so I’m thinking we start off at ten and have the auction at eleven. We’ll have games for the kids and bouncy houses as well as private vendors selling canine treats, accessories, veterinary services, etcetera. And there will be several other military organizations represented.”
“All of that sounds good, but you never answered my question,” Oliver said.
“Which one?”
“I asked what you needed to know to decide whether or not you like me.”
“I-wanna-see-you-naked like you or like-you-as-a-friend like you?”
“Either,” he said.
Eve looked up from her iPad, right into his eyes. God, why did they have to be so pretty? They made her want to tell him the truth—that she already liked him in a definite let’s-get-fleshy kind of way.
But deep down, she knew it was time to nip this flirting in the bud. She needed to prove she was right and that their attraction was just that. They would never last in the long run, not without the same goals in life.
“What’s your idea of a real relationship?”
He spluttered, which was exactly what she’d expected. Nothing freaked a guy out or threw him off his game like talking about his intentions.
“It’s a simple question, unless you aren’t the relationship type,” she said.
Oliver let out an uncomfortable chuckle and rubbed a hand over his shaved head. “I don’t know. I had a girlfriend in high school, but we mostly just watched TV and—”
“I get it, you had a real connection,” Eve said.
“Look, I don’t have a lot of time or chances to meet girls, unless it’s at a bar, and most of them aren’t looking for more than a night or two,” he said. “But I guess if I was going to spend a lot of time with one person, we’d do regular stuff. Go to dinner, maybe a movie, and maybe vacation together.”
“But those are just activities,” Eve said. “What do you think makes a relationship real?”
“Jesus, I don’t know. I guess it’s just the way two people feel about each other and whether they can stand to spend the rest of their lives together.”
“Romantic,” she said.
“What? It’s true. We all have bullshit, but when we just start seeing someone, we try to hide that bullshit until there’s no going back. I mean, you’ve already seen that I can be a jackass, my people skills are shit, and dogs hate me. But if we’d met under normal circumstances, like I saw you sitting alone at the café or something, I’d have asked if I could join you and would have been on my best behavior.”
“If you had come up to my table in your uniform, you wouldn’t have sat down,” Eve said bluntly.
Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “You got something about guys in the military?”
“I know I want a calm, predictable life, and you don’t get that when you marry a career man.”
“Wow, I can’t believe you would say that, given who your dad is,” Oliver said.
“Believe me, my dad wants me to get involved with a soldier even less that I do.”
Oliver didn’t say anything, but guilt and shame niggled at her.
Why do you need to be ashamed for how you feel and what you want out of life?
“It’s not that I don’t respect you or the other men and women who do what you do, but I want a man who will be home for dinner at a decent hour and not gone for years on end. I also refuse to date doctors, lawyers, or CEOs.”
“Well, good to know that you don’t care about money, either.”
“Money doesn’t make up for being alone,” she said softly.
“Considering I’m the last guy you want to get involved with, I’ll respect your wishes,” he said. “I’ll be completely professional from now on.”
Eve swallowed the lump in her throat, and a large part of her wished she hadn’t said anything. Oliver picked up the folder marked VENDORS and started perusing it, but she didn’t believe he was really reading it. She’d hurt
his feelings.
It’s better to stop whatever this is now than to drag it out and get hurt later. It’s better this way.
“WELL, I GUESS that’s it, then,” Oliver said.
Over the last two hours, they had hammered out every detail and divided every task.
And it had been painfully polite, just the way Eve had wanted it.
Her admission that she didn’t date military men had pissed him off and, worse, presented him with a challenge. He had always been a stubborn son of a bitch, and if anyone ever told him he couldn’t do or have something, he’d go out of his way to prove them wrong.
Evelyn had just waved a bright-ass red flag in his face, and all he wanted to do was chase it.
Chase her.
“Thanks for helping me bust through all this,” Eve said.
“And with enough time to watch The Walking Dead.” Oliver thought she winced, but he might have imagined it. He could tell by the way she’d acted earlier that she regretted telling him about her dating policy, but he’d just chalked that up to her nice nature. For all her sass and snark, Eve was a sweetheart.
When she had all her stuff gathered up, she paused and glanced around his house. “You know, I could help you clean up. If you want.”
“That’s okay, I can get it.”
“I don’t mind . . . ”
“Really, Evelyn, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything. I’m a big boy,” he said.
“I didn’t offer because I felt bad,” she said testily. “I offered because despite the terrible people skills, I do like you and think we could be friends.”
Great. Already in the friend zone.
“I have friends.”
“I’m sure you do, but how many of them would help you clean up your house?” she asked.
Oliver grinned sheepishly. “That would be none.”
“Hmm, then it seems you could do worse than a friend like me,” she said.
“You think so, huh?” Damn, it would be easier if he didn’t like her. If she really was just some girl he’d met in a bar who was down to fuck and nothing else. But instead, she was beautiful and sweet as well as funny and surprising.
“Where are your trash bags?” she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Above the fridge.” Oliver’s gaze traveled down over her bottom to the hard calf muscles straining in her legs as she actually stood on tiptoe to reach the box of trash bags.
Unable to resist, he came up behind her and pressed against her back, grabbing the box with ease. He held it in front of her as he placed his mouth next to her ear. “Anytime you need me for those hard-to-reach places, let me know.”
She shivered against him, but he was almost positive she wasn’t cold. The temptation to push his luck was crazy, yet he backed off. She could deny there was something more between them if she wanted, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t prove how wrong she was.
“I’ll grab the broom and dustpan,” he said.
Oliver went down the hall to grab them from the closet and turned around to find Eve bent over, her skirt accentuating her ass as she scooped up handfuls of white fluff and avoided Beast’s affections. Oliver gritted his teeth, cursing the raging hard-on he seemed to sport constantly whenever Eve was around.
“You are definitely going to want a new couch,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I was due for one anyway before Cujo decided to use it as a chew toy,” he said. Oliver concentrated on sweeping up excess fluff from the hardwood floor and ignoring Eve’s round, gorgeous behind. He knew that her dating policy was meant to put him off. Whether she really didn’t want to get involved or she was just afraid, he wasn’t sure. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked, not with her staying to help clean up a mess she had nothing to do with.
“It sounds like Beast was just trying to help you out. Get you motivated.”
Oliver shot her a glower and he loved that she laughed at him. He was an intimidating guy, it was part of his job, and yet she didn’t even flinch or back down from his temper.
Just one more thing to like about her.
“What are you going to do about Beast?” Eve asked.
Oliver heard the concern in her tone, and his gaze shifted to the dog, who was lying on the floor of the kitchen with his face between his paws. Beast’s eyes met his, and he lifted his head, panting. When Oliver didn’t look away, the dog barked at him. His first instinct was to tell her the dog was going back, that he just didn’t have the patience.
But then again, Eve liked Beast. He had noticed the way her face softened every time the dog nudged her for pets. And the sweet sound of her laughter at Beast’s behavior was something he could listen to forever.
Shit, forever? What is happening to you?
Whatever it was, it had happened the minute Evelyn Reynolds walked into his life and threw him into chaos.
“I guess I’m gonna show him who’s boss,” Oliver said.
Eve’s face lit up, and he knew he’d made the right choice. “Well, good luck with that,” she said, chuckling. “I really don’t think you scare him.”
“Believe me, by the time I get through with him, he’ll be a model dog.”
Chapter Seven
“SON OF A bitch, Best, you are supposed to be helping me, not getting your chuckles on.” Oliver had been working with Best all morning, trying to get Beast to sit and stay, but the minute Oliver dropped the leash, Beast took off.
“Hey, it’s not my fault he doesn’t respect you,” Best said. “Plus, you’re a great example to the kids of what not to do.”
Except for Jorge and Tommy, the group of eight teenaged boys coughed, presumably to cover their laughter. But they would pay. They had been working in one of five fenced-in training yards, and all of the other dogs stood at their trainers’ side, looking like model dogs.
“Hey, Sergeant Best, maybe you should take us back,” Jorge said.
Oh, yes. Oliver would make them pay.
Oliver cursed as the damn dog went to Best, sitting on command.
“Well, how come he respects you?” Oliver grumbled.
“Because I respect him. Training dogs has as much to do with your attitude and behavior as it does theirs. He knows you don’t respect him, and he’s telling you that you should,” Best said.
Oliver smacked Jorge upside the head as he went to retrieve the leash from Best.
“Yo, that’s abuse!” Jorge said.
“Stop being a pussy,” Darrel snapped.
Oliver grinned as Jorge spluttered. They had been training for eight days now, and Darrel had finally started to relax and come out of his shell. He also had a knack for putting the dogs at ease, talking to them in low tones. All the dogs responded to him, even Beast.
It was just Oliver who Beast still wasn’t listening to.
At home, it was different. After their first night and day together, Oliver hadn’t let Beast out of his sight. He took the big old dog everywhere with him, even in the shower. And though he’d never admit this to anyone, he had even given Beast a thorough scrub down with some dog shampoo he’d bought. Despite their current battle during training, Oliver had actually grown attached to the big mutt.
Now, if only Beast would follow one simple command.
At this point, Oliver was ready to give up, but Eve’s smiling face crept into his mind each time he considered it. She’d called him every day, asking how his to-do list was going, but as professional as she tried to keep it, the conversation would eventually stray to training Beast. And when he’d say he just wasn’t cut out for it, she’d tell him not to give up, that eventually Beast and he would find their rhythm.
Oliver wasn’t as confident, but he wanted to make Eve happy.
“How do I show him that I respect him?”
Best pulled a bag of dog treats and a ball from his backpack and handed them to Oliver. “Positive reinforcement. Show him you like him and that you appreciate when he does something right.”
Oliver put the bag
in his pocket and held up the ball. “Okay, dude, I am at the end of my rope with you. You gotta meet me halfway, so if you want the ball, sit.”
Beast’s gaze shifted from him to the ball, and then he slowly sat.
“Good boy,” Oliver said, keeping his voice low. “Here you go.”
Oliver threw the ball, shocked at how fast Beast was. The brown blur of his body whizzed across the lawn and caught the ball in his mouth in seconds. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not to come back when Oliver called, “Come.”
“Five to one he takes off running again,” Tommy said. Oliver ignored him, refusing to break eye contact with Beast.
Beast tilted his head with the bright green ball hanging out the side of his mouth and finally started trotting back toward him.
When he stopped in front of Oliver and sat, Oliver hooked his leash on and took the ball from him. “Good dog.”
Loud whoops and cheers emitted from the group of boys until Best yelled, “Knock it off!”
Beast’s body shook, and Oliver could tell he was dying to run, but still he stayed seated. Oliver pulled a treat from his pocket and held it out for Beast, who took it gently from his palm. “Now, I’m going to put your leash down and I want you to stay.”
Beast remained relaxed while Oliver set his leash on the ground. “Stay.” Oliver stood up and took two steps away, surprised when Beast didn’t move.
“Come.”
Beast stood and lumbered over, plopping down at his feet expectantly.
This time, even Best applauded, and Oliver squatted down, taking Beast’s head between his hands and rubbing his floppy ears. “Good boy.”
“I was going to say the same thing to you.”
Oliver looked over his shoulder to find Eve standing behind him, smiling. Her black hair was held away from her face with a headband and her black dress was a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin.
She looked fucking gorgeous.
“Damn,” one of the boys said.
Oliver gave the group a hard stare, and Best shouted, “All right, turds, get your asses inside and put your dogs in their crates. I think you need a couple hours in the weight room.”
