“If you want to be the asshat who ends our brotherly tradition, then be that way.” Spence blew out a breath. “You always were a killjoy.”
“Oh no. You’re not getting off that easy,” Elliott said on a sarcastic laugh. “Trace and I have both been in the hot seat. The dare tradition won’t be over until you’ve had your turn. And I’m going to make sure it’s a whopper.” He pounded the board with another dart. “I’ll be in the front row watching the shit show like when we were in high school and dared you to play in a basketball game”—he lifted a brow—“unencumbered.”
The color drained from Spence’s face.
Trace threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. “I’ll bring the popcorn and sodas.”
Spence’s lack of proper athletic underclothes had been quite a sight. Until the ref pulled him from the game because several mothers left with their hands over their children’s eyes.
“I got suspended from school for a week, and Dad grounded me for even longer,” Spence groused.
When Trace finally stopped laughing, he said, “Is the camp really that bad, Thing One?”
“No.” Elliott’s last dart smacked the red circle and stuck. “It’s a million times worse than bad.” Before he could launch into his bullet list of complaints, Ben burst through the door.
Meeting in the game room after school several times a week was another Remington brothers’ tradition that had carried on between Trace and his son.
“Dad! Grandpa just picked me up from Frontier Scouts!” His little body hummed with excitement. “Guess what?” He didn’t wait for his dad to respond. “I’m going to work on my community service badge.”
“That’s great, son.” Trace ruffled his hair. “What can I do to help?”
“Can you help me think of ways to earn it?” Ben kicked the floor with a tennis shoe.
“Sure. Let’s give it some thought tonight when we have dinner at Lily’s,” Trace said. “Among the three of us, I’m sure we can come up with an idea.”
“The service dog camp is a community service event. He could take my place,” Elliott joked. “He’d probably be more useful.” He threw each dart in rapid succession, and they hit the board with a bruising whomp, whomp, whomp. “We don’t have enough help, and the help we do have can’t add two plus two with a calculator. Yet he’s still more valuable than I am when it comes to this event.”
“I don’t suppose that’s wounded your ego?” Trace asked.
Elliott glanced at his nephew, then responded with the code for Kiss my ass.
The truth hurt like a mother.
“A dozen vets are showing up tomorrow expecting us to have our shit together. Trust me when I say our shit is nowhere close to being together.” He stomped to the board and pulled the darts free, thinking about Rebel sleeping on the cement floor instead of delegating to him or Jax. “And I’m not at all certain our dog whisperer was the right choice. I’m questioning her leadership skills.”
Because her decision to spend the night in a fucking garage while he was tucked in a warm bed made him feel like shit.
“I guess she was a last resort, since Lily had to scramble to find a replacement at the last minute,” Spence said.
Elliott turned to pace back to his throwing spot but stilled.
He hadn’t heard the door open, but it was cracked about six inches. Rebel stood in the opening. Even from across the room, he could see her chin quivering.
Hell. He let his eyes slide shut.
With an index finger, she gave the door a nudge so it swung wider. Buddy and Bogart were at her side. “Hello, everyone.”
Trace and Spence hopped off the edge of the table and spun around to face her. They were as speechless as Elliott.
“Hi.” Ben rubbed his thighs with his hands. “I like your hair. It’s a pretty red.” He made a face. “Not like my teacher’s hair last year. It was blue.”
Elliott had to admit, at that moment his third-grade special-needs nephew had more sense than the three Remington brothers combined.
“Hi, Ben.” Her thinned lips curved into a barely there smile. “How’s your duck?”
“He’s great!” Ben hollered in his usual volume. “Want to play with him sometime?”
“I’d love that,” she said. “Want to pet Buddy and Bogart?”
“Yeah!” he cheered.
She gave Buddy the signal to go to Ben, and Bogart followed.
Rebel’s eyes trekked back to Elliott and narrowed. “Our new camp assistant may not have great arithmetic skills, but he has kindness, compassion, and manners. Didn’t Mrs. Ferguson used to say, ‘Manners make the man’?”
She did. And if the woman who’d helped finish raising him and his brothers after their mother died had overheard the conversation, she’d be pulling them into the family den by the ear for a good scolding. Which made Elliott feel like one of the big brown piles the service dogs had been leaving on the grounds where Jax took them for potty breaks.
It killed him, but he had to be honest with himself. He was jealous of Jax. Jax! Jealous of the fact that Jax was more useful to Rebel than he was. Jealous of the fact that she seemed to enjoy the company of someone so simple over spending time with him.
Spence looked at Trace and pulled at his left earlobe, their code for Let’s get the hell out of here.
“Ben,” Trace said, finally unrooting himself. “Why don’t we go over to the kitchen and see if we can bribe Charley out of a snack.”
“I’ll come with.” Spence was first to the door. He paused in front of Rebel. “Good to see you again, Rebel.”
“Really?” she asked matter-of-factly. “I would’ve never guessed.”
At least Spence had the decency to look contrite as he nodded to her and left.
Trace started to lead Ben toward the door.
“I have an idea for Ben’s Scout badge.” Rebel gave Ben another warm smile. “If it’s okay with your dad.”
Trace stopped, closed his fist, and rubbed his knuckles along his cheek like he was scratching it. Seemed like an innocent gesture, but really it was code for Can she be trusted?
Elliott flicked the tip of his nose with a thumb. More code for It’s a go. Which made his chest tighten. Because he was starting to trust Rebel, and he wasn’t sure if that was wise or if it made him the stupidest smart guy on the island.
Rebel’s chin quivered again, and the dogs crowded in on her. She’d known about their code years ago. She just couldn’t decipher it because it’d been a secret kept between the brothers. But she was smart enough to know that she was probably the topic of their private conversation.
“We’re all ears.” Trace playfully tugged at the cusps of Ben’s ears.
Ben giggled and swiped at his dad’s hands.
“If Ben found a way to bond with a duck, then he can do the same with dogs.” She stuffed both hands into her jacket pockets and walked to the pool table. “Elliott’s right about one thing.” The way she stressed the word hung in the air, making him feel even smaller. “We do need more help. Ben could help with feeding, walking, bathing.” She ran a long, slender finger along the edge of the table. “I could show him how to teach Bogart basic commands that will transform him from a stray into an animal with a valuable purpose—”
“Hold up,” Elliott interrupted. She’d earmarked Bogart for Dan Morgan. If Ben got attached, he’d be heartbroken when the dog went away.
Elliott’s mouth turned to cotton.
Was he really thinking about the pain Ben might experience over losing something he’d grown to care for? Or was he thinking about his own pain over losing the girl he’d once loved?
He swallowed back the bitter memory. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He looked from Trace to Ben. “He’d spend a lot of time with Bogart, then he’d have to give him away.”
“That’s where the community service part comes in.” Rebel took a purple ball and rolled it across the table until it banked in front of Elliott. “He’d know going in th
at he was doing this as a service for someone who needs Bogart. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but letting go is a life lesson everyone has to learn.” Sadness filled her eyes for a fleeting moment. “When it’s for such a good cause like helping someone less fortunate, there’s a lot of personal growth involved.”
Trace rubbed the back of his neck. “Ben, do you understand you wouldn’t be keeping Bogart?”
“I’ve got Waddles.” Ben bounced on the balls of his feet. “Can I, Dad? Please?”
Rebel braced a hip against the table. A slender hip with just enough fullness to be perfect. Elliott didn’t care much for a rail-thin woman. He liked at least a little curve and contour because it felt good under his palms as he explored every inch of her naked body—
Trace cleared his throat. “What do you say, Uncle Elliott?”
Somehow he managed to unhook his gaze from Rebel’s lovely hip, which attached to nicely shaped legs that would wrap perfectly around his waist. Jesus. “Huh?” Christ. And he’d had the audacity to mock Jax’s elementary vocabulary?
“Pay attention, Uncle Elliott.” Ben’s tone couldn’t get more exasperated if he’d tried. Nothing like a kid with no filter to keep adults in line. “Can I help you train Bogart?”
Wait. What? “Help me?”
“Yes.” Ben’s head bobbed up and down.
“Rebel just said you were in charge of training Bogart,” Trace said.
Elliott must’ve missed that while he was busy gawking at that perfectly formed hip attached to the perfectly formed legs. “I thought it would be more like practice for me, and you’d be doing the actual training?” he asked Rebel.
She nodded. “Yes. But practice means you actually have to be doing the work, so you and Ben can learn together.”
Trace rubbed his son’s shoulders. “Ben can help out after school and on weekends, so that means he’ll be hanging out with you, Thing One.”
Rebel’s eyes glittered with laughter at the nickname.
“Anything for my nephew.” Because Elliott had so much spare time on his hands lately. Still, he couldn’t say no to the buzz of excitement that had Ben supercharged with joy. He wouldn’t be seeing the little guy every day once he returned to San Francisco.
“When can we start?” Ben blurted.
After Elliott got the sponsor on the phone and demanded the handlers come to the island. “Soon.”
At the same time, Rebel said, “Now.”
Of course she’d want to get right to it. Because on top of Elliott being inadequate with the camp, he was also inattentive to his nephew’s problems. Because instead of listening to Ben and helping him get started on his badge right away, Elliott had thought of his own problems and packed schedule.
Because Rebel was proving to be the same generous, kindhearted person he’d known her to be in high school.
Not at all the type of person who would walk out on the person who’d loved her, whom she’d loved back with that big, kind heart, not to be seen for ten long years. And not the type of person who wouldn’t offer some sort of explanation.
That uneasy prickle slithered down his spine again.
He knew a thing or two about skipping out on the people he loved and who loved him. They didn’t know it yet, but he was about to do it again. He had his reasons. Some professional. Some private and humiliating from his childhood.
The blood in his veins pumped hot as he turned a silent, contemplative stare on Rebel.
For the first time, he realized she might have her own dark, shameful secrets that she’d rather not share because of the pain.
Chapter Ten
#DOGSBEFOREDUDES
“Run through each command a few more times, then we’ll call it a night,” Rebel said to Ben and Elliott. Darkness had settled over the island, and the landscape lighting had switched on, casting a glow over the lush lawn behind the resort. The gentle lapping of water against the dock carried on the gentle breeze.
After leaving the game room, she’d checked on Jax and the dogs. They were quiet as long as someone stayed with them. So she’d asked Jax to hang out there for most of the evening, then she’d take over once everyone had gone to sleep. And by everyone she’d meant Elliott, who seemed to have a problem with her sleeping in the garage.
She snuggled deeper into her down jacket as she sat at one of the picnic tables and watched Ben and Elliott work with Bogart. Rem lay on the cool grass at her feet.
“Go ahead.” Elliott handed his treats to Ben and joined her at the table, sliding onto the bench at her side.
“Watch,” Ben said to Bogart with his fist at his chest and a treat encased inside his closed hand.
Luckily, Bogart was smart, caught on quickly, and had the perfect disposition for training. It took a few seconds, but he stilled and focused on Ben.
“Yes.” Ben rushed to hand him the treat. Bogart’s ears folded back, and he cowered.
“Slow movements,” she reminded Ben. Rewarding the dog seemed to be Ben’s favorite part, and he did it with an extreme amount of enthusiasm. “He was a stray, so it’s possible he was abused. He might be skittish until he starts to trust us. Soft voices and slow movements are the best way to handle him.”
Ben nodded and kept working with Bogart.
“I wonder how he lost his leg,” Elliott said.
She let out a sigh. “Rescues have often been through more than most people can fathom.” Except Rebel. She knew exactly what strays went through before finding their way into a shelter or a new home. “Their scars run deep, so it’s probably a good thing they can’t talk about it. It’d be too heartbreaking for most of us to hear.”
Elliott angled his body toward her. “Doesn’t sound all that different from people.” He was close enough that his warm breaths whispered over her cheeks, swirling tendrils of mist across her skin. “Most of us have scars and painful experiences we’d rather not talk about.”
She couldn’t hold his intense, questioning gaze because that gaze seemed to be searching for answers.
With a thumbnail, she traced a notch in the picnic table.
Elliott angled more toward her. His muscular thigh pressed into hers.
A tingle shimmied up her leg to settle in places it shouldn’t.
“I’m glad Mabel didn’t turn Bogart over to a shelter. His chances of adoption are almost nil with one leg missing,” Rebel said.
Elliott pulled on a jacket, shifting enough to close the small space between their arms. His powerful thigh and muscled arm massaged against hers.
Another shimmy and shake rocketed through her.
“How’d you learn so much about dogs?” His voice was soft. So soft that her heart expanded a little more with each word. “To my knowledge, you never had a dog when you lived on the island.”
True. She’d been too busy taking care of her mother. No way could Rebel have taken care of a dog. Plus, the milk was usually sour for her own cereal—when they actually had milk and cereal in the house. How could she have fed a dog?
“I, u-um,” she stammered. “Well . . .” She couldn’t explain. Not really, because Elliott was too smart to leave it at a stray dog found me not long after I left Angel Fire Falls. He saved me, gave me a new purpose. So now I return the favor. No, Elliott would keep asking questions, keep digging until he got to the root of the matter.
“Career options are much more limited without a college education. I was given an opportunity to work with dogs.” She scrunched her shoulders. “Turned out I was good with animals, so I rolled with it.”
Ben let out a squeal of approval when Bogart obeyed the touch command, then quieted when Bogart cowered.
Elliott turned to watch his nephew, who was having a blast rewarding Bogart with far too many treats. “Thanks.”
“For what?” She smiled as Ben dropped to his knees and threw both arms around Bogart’s neck. “He’s a great kid, and it looks like he’s going to be a big help until we can get the handlers here.” When Elliott’s mesmerizing green eyes ra
ked her face like he was memorizing every detail, she traced another notch in the table.
He blew out a gentle laugh. “Rebel Tate. The badass girl who raised herself is blushing.”
“No, I’m not!” she argued way too fast. Ack! “It’s just that you were looking at my freckles . . . and you know I’ve always been self-conscious of my freckles.”
He reached up and smoothed a thumb across her cheek, then down her nose to tweak the tip. “Your freckles are . . .” He stopped.
Adorable? Sexy? What? WHAT?
A shiver raced over her.
Elliott’s big, warm hand covered hers. She pulled in a breath and looked up into his ridiculously beautiful eyes.
“You’re freezing.” He took her hand between his and started to rub out the chill. “You didn’t sign up to help my nephew earn a Scout badge. It means a lot to my family. Ben’s mom doesn’t come around much, and we’re all so busy trying to get the resort back on a steady upward trajectory after years of decline that we have to work together so Ben and Charley’s little girl aren’t neglected. It takes all of us pitching in to look after them.”
Try as she might to resist, Rebel fell a little in love with Elliott all over again. That family closeness, that family effort, that family willingness to look out for each other. She’d longed for it her entire life.
And had ruined her chance of ever attaining it after keeping her mother’s secret. How could Rebel ask for that kind of loyalty when she hadn’t given it in return?
Payday. Commercial property for sale in Portland. Payday. My one chance to open my own facility. Did I mention payday?
“We still have to go over the veterans’ profiles, so we should wrap it up. Want to break the news to your nephew?” She pulled her hand free from Elliott’s, immediately missing the warmth of his touch.
He hesitated. Studied her, then drew in a heavy breath. “Ben, it’s getting late. Your dad’s probably expecting you for dinner.”
“Aww.” Ben’s bottom lip puckered. “I don’t want to stop.”
Dare Me Again Page 12