Taking Heart

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Taking Heart Page 3

by T. J. Kline


  That man was a chiseled god. With a square jaw covered in a day’s beard growth, his caramel skin was colored by a tribal tattoo that ran from just behind his ear, down his neck, and over one dark pectoral. The intricate design continued over his arm and enormous bicep onto his forearm. She noticed a scar on the side of his head and wondered if it had occurred as part of his injury. If so, this man had a story she was going to need to hear. Tango stood up, pulling her back to the present, and she turned to see who approached behind her.

  She didn’t miss the worry in Gage’s deep brown eyes. “You really think you might be able to help him?”

  Julia tipped her head to one side. “I do. But it’s really going to depend on how willing he is to make this work.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Julia jumped and spun to see Dylan standing at the screen door, wrapping a towel around his waist. He slid the door open and stepped inside. He towered over her, resolved yet intimidating. She took a step backward as he looked down at her. He was so close she could smell the chlorine and sunshine on him, and she felt her heart skip a beat before speeding up double time.

  “Give me a minute to get dressed and you can show me these dogs.”

  “Okay,” Julia agreed, trying to catch her breath as Dylan moved past her and headed down the hall. She saw Gage stare at her, a moment longer than he should have.

  “Um”—she tried to compose herself again—“any idea what sort of dog your brother might be looking for? What does he like to do? Hobbies?”

  “Do you mean now or before?”

  “Either, I guess.”

  Gage shrugged one shoulder. “He used to be a pretty active, outdoorsy kind of guy. He doesn’t really do anything now that he used to and, being special ops, his life was pretty much the job. There wasn’t much time for hobbies when he could be deployed at a moment’s notice.”

  “Special ops?” Neither of them had mentioned that to her.

  “Bragging about me again, Gage?” Dylan sauntered into the room with a confident swagger she hadn’t seen from him before. She wondered if Dylan was proud of his own accomplishments or just pleased that his brother was proud of them. He slung an arm around his brother’s neck playfully. “What do you say we go look at these mongrels of hers?”

  Julia held her tongue, even as she felt resentment stir. Her dogs might be shelter rescues, but that didn’t make them less capable. In many cases, it gave them the best traits of more than one breed. As if sensing her displeasure, Gage glared at his brother in silent reprimand.

  “Tango, watch.” The dog moved to the front door and sat down, his ears lifted and on full alert. “Let’s go.”

  “You mean to tell me that monster will guard your front door?” Dylan sounded doubtful. Both men followed her out the back door and headed toward the kennels.

  She nodded. “Until I release him from the command.” He looked dubious. “Would you have defied an order from your commanding officer?” She saw the flicker of resentment in his eyes at her audacity to compare him to a dog. She hadn’t meant to ruffle his feathers, and attempted to smooth things over. “It’s the same thing with the dogs. They see me as their leader and do what I ask because they enjoy their job and they trust me. I assume it was the same for you.”

  She saw Gage hide a grin as Dylan’s frown deepened and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She could tell she’d only managed to make things worse. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense and she saw his huge biceps flex, as if he was clenching his fists.

  “So,” Gage began, trying to break the current of tension crackling in the air, “we only have a small house in North Carolina, but it’s got a pretty good-size yard.”

  That was the slight accent she detected.

  “You won’t have the dog in the yard much, unless you’re with it. You’ll want to keep your dog with you all day.”

  “How am I supposed to get a job that way?”

  Julia stopped and turned to face him. “It depends on what your dog does to assist you. Service animals are protected by the Disabilities Act, and you can take him to work with you.”

  “I am not disabled,” Dylan growled, the muscle in his temple moving as he clenched his jaw.

  Julia stopped, frozen on her feet, and stared at Dylan for a moment before relaxing. Although he was completely capable, something in his eyes reassured Julia he wasn’t going to hurt her. He was injured, physically and emotionally, but she knew bravado when she saw it.

  “Yes, you are. I can either sugarcoat this for you, like I’m guessing a lot of people have”—Julia glanced at Gage—“or I can help you. It’s up to you, but I’m not going to lie to you, Dylan.”

  She pushed open the door to the kennel and they were greeted by excited yips and barks. Julia reached for several leashes hanging near the entrance and headed down the aisle, stopping in front of a short-haired German shepherd and retrieving him from the run. She moved across the aisle and brought out a border collie and a black Lab. As she looked back at Dylan and Gage standing near the door, she could see that while Gage looked overwhelmed, Dylan was searching the eyes of the dogs. It surprised her when he’d been resistant to the idea of a dog so far.

  “Dylan, why don’t you walk up and down and see if there’s another dog that you seem to connect with.” She gave the dogs she had on leash the command to sit, and all three relaxed at her feet while Dylan frowned again.

  Was this the man’s only facial expression? His lips tightened into a thin line, body coiled as if ready to strike. She had yet to see him relax, even slightly.

  She saw him stop for a moment at the run with a large mastiff before moving on. He squatted down on the balls of his feet, his fingers curling through the chain-link of the run at the end. “This one,” he whispered, almost too quietly for her to hear.

  She gave the three dogs beside her the command to stay and walked toward Dylan. She smiled when she saw he’d stopped in front of Roscoe, a beautiful golden retriever who’d been rescued after being abandoned in an empty warehouse. “Here.” She put the leash into his hand. “This is Roscoe. Roscoe, meet Dylan.” She reached for the dog’s collar and allowed Dylan to clip the leash on him. “Now let’s go play.”

  DYLAN WAS BEGINNING to wonder if this woman was insane. It started when she talked to the animals as if they were human, but watching her run around, leaping and jumping with them in the yard, confirmed his suspicions. All four dogs seemed to be enjoying the time with her, and, he had to admit, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view it gave him of her curvy rear. But he wasn’t about to make a fool out of himself the way Gage was, romping on the grass with four dogs.

  Dylan sat on the stoop and leaned back on his hands, crossing his ankles in front of him, while he scanned the fenced enclosure. He was glad it was chain-link, which gave him the ability to take in the entire surroundings. He hated how he was constantly on alert for threats, even when he knew there weren’t any. “I thought we were supposed to work with them.”

  She stopped playing and looked at him. “We are working. Part of the work you’ll be doing will simply be bonding with your dog.”

  Roscoe moved away from the other three dogs and walked to where he reclined, climbing the steps to sit beside him. “I don’t see the point in this. How is playing tag with a dog going to help me stop nightmares or relax when I feel a panic attack?” Dylan sighed, frustrated. “This is just one more thing that isn’t going to work.”

  The dog lay down with his head over Dylan’s thigh and looked up. Without warning, Roscoe nudged him in the belly. Dylan ignored him. “I’m tired of the medications, the therapy visits and—” Dylan sat up, putting a hand on the dog’s back. “What’s he doing?”

  Julia smiled and walked toward him, leaving the other dogs in the yard. “His job. Technically speaking, he’s redirecting you, making you focus on him and drawing you out of your head. Congratulations, Dylan, I think you have your dog.”

  “What? I don’t ac
tually . . . ” He looked down at the dog’s head, still lying in his lap, staring up at him with deep brown eyes filled with understanding. It was strange, but he really felt as if this dog had seen just as many trials in his life as Dylan had. “Abandoned, huh?”

  “Yes. But he’s been a very quick learner.” Julia sat down on the grass near Dylan’s feet as Gage walked toward them from across the yard. She drew her knees toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them, smiling at him. “You should spend the rest of today getting to know him.”

  He looked away from the dog to see her smiling at him again. Damn, if this woman didn’t have the prettiest smile. He arched a brow at her suggestion. “Like what, a date?”

  “It’s a little like that,” she said, laughing.

  “This is our new roommate?” Gage crossed his arms and looked down at him. “Roscoe, huh?” The dog flicked his eyes toward Gage when he heard his name, but otherwise he remained focused on Dylan.

  “I’ll just go put the other three away while you guys hang out back here. I’ll be right back.” Julia clipped the leashes on the other dogs and led them back inside.

  Gage laughed as she went inside. “Did you have to pick the one with the most hair?”

  Dylan glared at his brother. “I don’t think I actually picked him,” he pointed out. “He chose me. Now that we have him, how long before we can leave?”

  “Why would you want to? You’ve got everything here you could possibly want, including a beautiful woman who is completely focused on you.”

  “That is the last thing I need, right after a damn dog.” Dylan didn’t know how to explain it to his brother, who didn’t seem to see him as a burden. He needed to get back on his own two feet. “I don’t understand why you aren’t in more of a hurry to get home. You have a business to run.”

  “You and I both know I can work wherever I have an Internet connection. Julia already assured me over the phone that I can use her Wi-Fi as long as I need it. Face it, we’re here for the duration.”

  “I don’t want to be here.” Dylan jumped to his feet, knocking the dog from his leg.

  “Tough shit,” Gage countered. “Julia was right about one thing. You’re getting used to people lying to you. You’re not getting any better sitting at home, hiding in your room. It’s time you learn how to keep living, in spite of this.”

  The dog pawed at Dylan’s leg, but he ignored it as the pent-up fury bubbled over, like lava from a volcano. “You have no idea what you’re even talking about.” He shoved his hands into the middle of Gage’s chest, knocking his brother backward a few steps.

  Roscoe began barking, moving between the brothers. “The hell I don’t.” Gage took a step closer to his brother. “You want to take a swing at me? If it makes you feel better, then go ahead. It’s not going to change anything.”

  Roscoe jumped up on Dylan and grabbed a mouthful of denim at the knee of his jeans, growling as he tugged backward, knocking Dylan off balance. He stumbled and caught himself as the dog let go. It was enough to jolt him from behind the curtain of rage that dropped when he lost his temper. He stared down at the dog, who was watching him intensely, waiting to see what he would do.

  “Gage, I . . . ”

  “Don’t,” he warned, waving a hand, dismissing Dylan’s need to apologize. “If that doesn’t prove that you need to be here, I don’t know what will.”

  JULIA HEARD ROSCOE barking and locked the kennels quickly. Running back out to the yard, she recognized the dog’s anxiety and made it to the door in time to see Gage storm off as Dylan dropped his head into his hands.

  “Roscoe, down.” The dog immediately followed her command and lay at Dylan’s feet, staring up at him. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” He looked torn, as if he wanted to follow his brother. Or run in the opposite direction.

  “Do you want me to go after him?” She wanted to help but wasn’t sure what to do. With the dogs, she followed her instincts, but with Dylan, she had no point of reference.

  “No.”

  She took a step toward him, and he looked up at her from hooded eyes. “Dylan, you’re going to have to open up to me. I know you want to keep it all bottled inside, but when you do, it’s going to be a poison in there.”

  He laughed but it was a painfully bitter sound. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what’s inside. It’s like an atom bomb. If I took the lid off . . . ” He looked down at the dog. “What am I supposed to do with him now?”

  “Why don’t we go back to the house and we can talk about it. Let’s find you somewhere you can sit and relax.”

  “Relax? I don’t even think I know what that means anymore.”

  “Come on. I’ll get dinner started and we’ll talk while we wait.”

  JULIA SAT ON the couch with her feet up on the coffee table as Tango sprawled out on the floor. Dylan sat across from her in the recliner, but his back was ramrod straight. Roscoe sat at his feet, staring up at him as if he couldn’t relax until his master did.

  “Would it make you feel better to inspect the house?”

  He looked surprised by her offer. “Actually, it would, but I don’t want to impose.”

  “Go ahead. There’s nothing to hide here. Take Roscoe with you.”

  Dylan looked skeptical. “You’re sure you’re fine with me doing this?”

  She shrugged. She didn’t really want him snooping around her house, but she knew it would set him at ease, at least as much as anything would at this point. Dylan rose and began to move around the house, slowly checking each room before returning to the living room and slumping into the recliner again. She saw the change in him as his shoulders lost their rigid inflexibility. He leaned back into the chair, and his hands lay open on the arms.

  “I’m sorry, I just—”

  Julia held up a hand. “No apology necessary. I get it.”

  She heard him take a deep breath and sigh loudly as he sank farther into the chair. Roscoe relaxed and lay down at his feet. It was the first time she’d seen him let his guard down, and she remembered how exhausting it was to be on high alert nonstop with no real danger except what your mind conjured. He closed his eyes, and she took the opportunity to assess him. There was his quick temper, but she knew a large part of that was likely coming from frustration. He had an air of confidence about him, like a man who knew who he was and got what he wanted, yet she could sense doubt in him.

  “How many years apart are you and Gage?” She hoped family would be a safe subject, something that wouldn’t stir any demons to the surface.

  He turned his gaze in her direction. “I’m older by two years. He’s a great guy, and I don’t know what I’d do without him. Since I got back—”

  She shook her head and held up a hand to stall him. “Let’s talk about other things for now. What about your parents?”

  A shadow covered his deep brown eyes. “Divorced. Dad was an alcoholic and Mom finally had enough. After their divorce, he pretty much ran out. Not that he was around much before anyway. He practically lived in the bar down the street.”

  “Are you still close to your mom?”

  Pain clouded his eyes. “She died a few years ago. Cancer.”

  Julia wasn’t doing too well on conversation. She might rethink the entire idea. She took a breath, wondering what subject might prove safe to discuss. She didn’t want to discuss his time in the military, at least not yet, and family seemed to be a sore subject. Gage had already told her he didn’t really have any hobbies since returning. She wasn’t sure where to go from here.

  “How’d you get started doing this, Julia?” It was the first time he’d initiated any conversation with her, and his brown eyes were intense, almost as if he could see into her soul.

  “Training dogs? I don’t really know. I sort of fell into it.” As if he knew she was talking about him, Tango sat up and looked at her. She patted the couch beside her and he hopped up, laying his head in her lap. “As a kid, I always seemed to be the one who found strays or took
them home. I never understood people who didn’t have at least three dogs.” She laughed. “My parents always joked that they’d stolen me from a wolf pack.”

  He gave her a half smile, and she found it transformed his face. While brooding and serious, he seemed mysterious and dangerous. His sheer size alone was intimidating. But when he smiled, he was devastating. His sharp features softened and his eyes took on an amusement that made him sexy. Which, in her book, was just as dangerous. Her heart did a quick skip before she reminded herself that he was a client. A client in dire need of her help.

  “How did dog training turn into fixing crazy people?”

  “I don’t fix anyone.” She tipped her chin down and gave him a disparaging scowl. “And you’re not crazy.”

  “Tell that to Uncle Sam,” he muttered.

  She let his comment slide. “About four years ago, a dog I was training for a search and rescue team went out to find a boy who’d gotten lost. He was autistic, so he hid. The men had been looking for two days, but the dog found him within fifteen minutes. Then he wouldn’t leave the boy’s side.” She ran her hand over Tango’s head, staring down at the dog to keep from meeting Dylan’s piercing gaze. “The boy connected with him and showed improvements his parents hadn’t seen in him before, socially and emotionally. The two of them have been together ever since, and now he’s able to attend school.”

  She looked up at him, wanting him to understand that Roscoe could help him as well. “If you give him a chance, Roscoe will turn this around for you.”

  “You sound so sure.” Dylan shook his head and looked at the dog. “I want to believe you. I really do. But I just don’t have any hope left in me.”

  Chapter Four

  DYLAN WAS SITTING on the couch when Gage finally returned. “Where were you?”

  “Took a ride into town. Why?”

  Gage still looked pissed, as if the time in town hadn’t cooled his temper any. Dylan couldn’t blame him. He didn’t deserve to be strapped down to a brother who couldn’t even make it through a night without a prescription, who lost his temper over nothing and thought people walking by were trying to kill him.

 

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