Rebel had been nagging her mom to clean up because she hadn’t been feeling well. Then she’d come home crazy with fear because she’d woken up from an alcoholic blackout with no memory of how she’d driven her car into a ditch. Word spread that Dan Morgan had been hit by a car while riding his bicycle. The driver hadn’t stopped, leaving the scene of the accident without helping the little boy.
The dent she’d found in the fender of her mother’s car was the last straw. Rebel threatened to go to the authorities if her mother didn’t stop cold turkey. They’d packed up what fit into their old car and checked into a hotel on the Cape. A few days and an urgent-care appointment later, they were on their way to a hospital in Portland. Her mother kept her promise and never touched another drop of liquor, but it was too late.
She swirled a fingertip through the smattering of hair on his chest.
Elliott’s hand rested against her jaw, and his thumb caressed the soft skin above her cheek. “No one on the island knew why you’d left. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
She molded her hand on top of his. Knew that he was chipping away at solving the mystery, one question at a time. “It happened so fast. We were desperate to get to the hospital.”
Her chest tightened because she figured what was coming next. He’d want to know about the note. About why she’d asked him not to look for her.
Instead, he said, “Now that I know what happened to your mom, tell me what happened to you.”
It shouldn’t have, but it threw her. She’d thought he’d be more interested in how her sudden secret departure had affected him. It was so like him to focus on how it had affected her. “Um, well . . .”
He placed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth where she was chewing it. “Stop worrying and just tell me. You know you can trust me.”
She did know. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she couldn’t reward his loyalty by putting him in a situation where he had to choose between his conscience or her. It would tear him up inside. She should know. That impossible choice had shredded her to pieces for years.
“You were homeless.” Softly, gently, he kept stroking her cheek and the skin under her eye.
White-hot tears stung the backs of her eyes as she nodded. “I slept in Mom’s car as long as I could. I still feel overwhelmed when I have to eat in front of people. It’s like they’ll know I was a street rat by the way I eat.”
His body went as rigid as a plank of wood. “Don’t ever call yourself a street rat again. None of it was your fault.”
But it was true. She couldn’t forget it any more than she could forget how much it’d hurt to leave Elliott without an explanation. Even back then, she’d known he was going to move up in the world, just as much as she’d known she wouldn’t. That part hadn’t changed and never would.
“After Mom died, I had to sell the car for cash just to eat.” Rebel hadn’t missed the car a bit, since it was the weapon her mother had inadvertently used to hurt Dan Morgan. “After that, I slept on a park bench.”
A deep, guttural sound of agony escaped through his lips, and he pulled her into his embrace.
“That’s how I became a dog whisperer.” She snuggled into him. “A stray dog found me.”
Elliott chuckled. “You were homeless, yet you rescued a stray dog. That’s so you.”
She hadn’t rescued the dog. Not really. “He rescued me. Looking after him was the only thing that kept me from giving up.” She smoothed a hand over Elliott’s tight abs and around to his muscled back. “When I couldn’t feed him anymore, I took him to a shelter. The manager asked me if I wanted a job cleaning out the kennels, feeding the dogs, getting them water.” She lifted a shoulder. “The same stuff Jax is doing to help us. She let me sleep on a cot in her office. I worked with the dogs constantly, and one thing led to another.”
His phone dinged. Instead of answering it, he kept stroking her arm, her shoulder, her hair.
“We should check that.” She wrinkled her nose. “We do have a lot of responsibilities we’re neglecting at the moment.”
He got up and searched through the clothes strewn on the floor. When he found his cell, he blew out a heavy breath. “The storm blew in faster than expected.” His face paled, and he stared at the phone like he wasn’t really seeing it.
She rose onto an elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Trace is grounded on the mainland until the weather lets up. He’s putting the vets up in a hotel so they’ll be comfortable until the airport opens again.” He tapped on the screen of his phone. “Fuck me.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I pulled up the weather report. The storm might last two days.”
She fell back on the bed. “We’re already on a condensed schedule. Losing two days is critical. We’ll have to ask the sponsor to extend the camp—”
“No.” His tone was more than firm. It was bordering on harsh. “I’ll have to cancel before I do that.” He started to pull on his clothes.
She sat up. “You’ll cancel? Just like that?” She got out of bed and gathered her clothes too.
“If I have to.” He sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.
She hurried to get dressed. “Elliott, we’ll get a better result if we have more time.”
He stood, his stare unwavering.
It was like someone had flipped a switch.
“What happened to not disappointing your dad?” she asked.
He ignored her question. “I’m going to my office to call the sponsor again. Are you coming?”
Rebel couldn’t help but wonder how they’d gone from whispering sweet things to each other to Elliott threatening to shut down the whole camp.
She pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go.” She wasn’t about to let him cancel because of a storm.
When they got to the top of the stairs, she said, “If we can get Down Home Dog Food on the phone, we should discuss the situation and try to figure out possible solutions.”
He practically jogged down the stairs. “As long as the solution doesn’t require extending the camp, then sure.”
She hustled to keep up. “Well, canceling isn’t an acceptable solution either.”
He stopped on the landing where the stairs switched back in the other direction. “You’re the dog expert, but I’m the businessman. I make the final decision, because the resort has the most to lose.”
Her mouth fell open.
The resort has the most to lose?
Hardly.
A dull throb started behind her eyes.
He had no idea how much was at stake for her. No way could she afford to build a facility from scratch. Ever. No matter how many camps she led or dogs she trained. The property in Portland was her one and only chance to have her own place outfitted to train and match dogs with people in need.
Her one and only chance to make up for what her mother had done.
She poked his shoulder with a finger. “I need this camp, Elliott. I don’t have an expensive education. I don’t have another career waiting for me. This is it. My only option. I loved you enough to let you go ten years ago so that I wouldn’t hold you back. I need you to return the favor.”
Hell. The last part had slipped out.
His head snapped back. “You loved me enough to ditch me through an ambiguous note? You loved me enough to leave me wondering where you were, if you were okay . . .” He threw his hands up. “Or if you were even alive?”
“I did it for you, and it wasn’t easy.” She planted both hands on her hips. “And now I need you to think of what this opportunity can do for me. Just because this poorly planned and inefficiently managed disaster of an event fell into my lap shouldn’t mean I have to go down with it.”
A throat cleared at the bottom of the stairs. “Excuse me.”
As if on cue, she and Elliott both clamped their mouths shut and leaned to peek around the banister.
Lawrence stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide with warning.
“This is Mr. Collins.” Lawrence paused like the name should mean something.
Elliott didn’t speak, like he was trying to refocus on what his dad was trying to say.
Rebel didn’t respond either, her hackles still up from their unfinished argument.
“Mr. Collins is the head of Down Home Dog Food’s public relations department,” Lawrence clarified, his lips thinning.
Oh. Shee-ot.
“Mr. Collins, this is Rebel Tate, our dog whisperer extraordinaire.” Lawrence made the introductions with a reassuring tone. “She stepped in at the last minute to save the camp.”
Elliott may not have to end her dream by canceling the camp. By the look on Mr. Collins’s face, he was ready to cancel it himself.
“I brought Ben over to the kitchen to eat with Charley’s little girl and found Mr. Collins getting off the shuttle,” Lawrence said.
“Wonderful to meet you.” Rebel’s voice shook. “But I, um, we weren’t expecting you.”
“Obviously.” Collins rocked back on his heels. “I made it over on the last ferry before they shut it down. It was a choppy ride.”
That would explain the Kermit-green tint to his complexion. It might also explain the disapproving Grinch look on his face. Catching the trainer in the middle of a heated squabble while she called the camp a disaster might have something to do with it too.
She hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. “Sponsoring a camp like this is such a great thing you and your company are doing. You have no idea how this will impact the lives of the veterans who served our country. Thank you for allowing me to be part of it.”
His dim expression lightened a bit.
She may not have experience in the corporate world, but if she could charm unruly dog owners into doing things her way, then surely she could charm a company suit.
Rebel looked up at Elliott, who was still rooted in place on the switchback. Charming a brooding Remington was another matter entirely.
“This is Elliott Remington,” she said. “He’s the family contact person for the camp.”
“Yes, I’ve gotten your messages.” Collins hitched his chin at Elliott.
That finally spurred him into action, and he came down the stairs. “When you said we’d talk today, I didn’t realize you meant you were coming to the Remington in person.”
Collins didn’t have to repeat obviously out loud. He communicated it quite clearly in his expression.
Elliott shook his hand. “Thanks for moving the camp to the Remington.” He gave his father an uncertain glance. “We’re working hard, despite the obstacles we’ve encountered.” Elliott could obviously do some charming of his own when he wanted.
“I’m counting on it.” Collins looked at Elliott, then at Rebel. “The camp is ready? You can resolve your differences?”
“Of course,” Elliott assured him. “I do my best work with challenging people around me.” He gave Rebel a smart-ass grin.
She narrowed her eyes a fraction.
“Iron sharpens iron, as the saying goes.” He extended an open palm to Rebel. “Our expert trainer can give you the details.”
“Why don’t you pull your Jeep under the portico, and we’ll give Mr. Collins a tour of our setup,” she said to Elliott. If she could get Collins alone for a few minutes, she could pitch extending the camp. Then she’d talk sense into Elliott.
He dug a set of keys out of his pocket. “Dad, can you pull it around?” Elliott gave her a dazzling smile. “I don’t want to leave Rebel’s side for a second.” His white teeth glinted under the light. “I need to stay apprised of all the details so we can make this event a success.”
“Now that’s the team spirit I’m looking for.” Collins beamed. “It’s the reason we selected a family-owned resort and insisted a family member be in charge.”
“We aim to please.” Elliott’s smile couldn’t have gotten any wider. Swear to God, he could’ve starred in a toothpaste commercial.
Damn that pantie-melting smile.
Less than ten minutes later, they walked into the garage. Rem and Bogart ran to her instead of to Elliott, which gave her a little satisfaction. She introduced Collins to Jax, then gave him a tour, explaining every aspect of their setup and how the camp would unfold over the following weeks.
“The real training won’t start for a few days.” She kept her palm on Rem’s head, mentally scrambling for a way to ask for more time without alarming the sponsor. She glanced at Elliott, who wasn’t giving her a minute alone with Collins. “The veterans are stranded on the mainland. When they get here, they’ll need a chance to settle in at the resort to reduce their anxiety. It’ll take a few days to match the dogs, and then a few days after that for the matches to bond. Our schedule isn’t—”
“We’ll work around the clock to make sure we get the job done,” Elliott interjected.
She pasted on a thin smile. “Mr. Collins, when will the handlers arrive? I have to say, I was surprised when they didn’t show up with the service dogs.” She gave Elliott a look meant to pacify him. “We can speed things up quite a bit with one-on-one training once they arrive.”
Several wrinkles appeared between Collins’s dark brows. “Handlers? Didn’t anyone tell you?”
Obviously not.
“Could you refresh our memory?” Elliott asked.
Collins slid both hands under his suit jacket and shoved them into the pockets of his slacks. “The dogs have been in training with handlers who reside at the women’s state correctional facility.”
The sharp breath that whistled through Rebel’s lips had Rem pressing into her leg and Elliott frowning.
“That’s . . . that’s brilliant.” And it was. “But . . .” And this was going to be a really big but. “It does leave us shorthanded.”
Elliott beamed at both of them. “Lucky for us, we have Jax here to help out.”
“Aiya?” Jax finally looked up from a graphic novel he’d been reading in the corner of the garage.
Rebel’s eyes slid shut. She forced them open. “Mr. Collins, it’s fairly standard procedure for handlers to help the dogs transition to their new matches. Not having them here presents a prob—”
“Rebel is a veritable magician with dogs, though,” Elliott assured Collins. “I have no doubt we’ll make the camp work.”
How? HOW? She bit her tongue to keep from blurting her frustration.
Collins rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Now, I’d like to see what the service dogs can do.”
“Of course.” She tried to put on a confident smile. “But our compressed schedule may need to be adjust—”
“We’ll be ready,” Elliott said.
Would they? And if he interrupted her one more time, she might have to kick him in the shin. Then she’d be happy to strip off his pants and kiss it to make it better.
She cleared her throat, trying to focus on the problem at hand and not the smoldering hottie standing next to her. Wasn’t it just her luck that they were one and the same.
Well, it had been Rebel against the universe when she was alone at eighteen, and she’d handled it. She’d have to do the same now.
Chapter Sixteen
#OPTICSAREEVERYTHING
Elliott unwound the cord of another space heater he was setting up in the garage to stem the cooling temperatures, while Rebel put the last of the dogs in their crates for the night. The storm had the veterans stranded on the Cape for two days and counting, so he and Jax took turns sleeping in the frigid garage.
Once Rebel told him the truth about living on the streets, Elliott wasn’t about to let her sleep anywhere but a warm bed.
A lump formed in his throat at the thought of Rebel spending nights alone in a park. How terrifying it must’ve been for a y
oung girl. He glanced in her direction as she led a large black Lab to its crate.
She went about her work like the professional she was.
In high school, he’d known she was resilient, but surviving on the streets as a teen? It turned his stomach inside out, and respect for her mushroomed in his chest. And something else bubbled up and knocked at the door of his heart. Something he couldn’t quite put a name to. Something he was afraid to put a name to.
While they waited for the storm to pass, Rebel devised a schedule to rotate the dogs out of their crates for both mental and physical exercise using the obstacle course she’d created in the center of the garage.
Collins had been thoroughly wowed by both the Remington as a venue and Rebel’s skill as a trainer.
Rebel, on the other hand, wasn’t in the least bit thrilled with Elliott’s refusal to ask for an extension for the event. She’d given him an arctic-level cold shoulder ever since that could’ve ended global warming.
And he’d been in a foul mood because he missed her more than he cared to admit.
Rem and Bogart had been hypervigilant because of the tension, constantly darting between him and Rebel.
“Okay,” Rebel said to Jax when she closed the last crate. “I’m going to my room. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Jax got out a graphic novel and got comfy on the fresh bedroll Elliott had delivered to him.
She completely ignored Elliott, called Rem and Bogart to follow, and went to press the button to raise the garage door.
“Hold up.” Elliott switched on the last heater and jogged to catch up with her while pulling up the hood of his rain slicker. “The rain is still heavy, and the wind hasn’t completely died down. I’ll drive you to the main lodge.”
She hesitated. Then stepped out of the garage, lifting the hood of her jacket as she watched him.
Heat crept into his chest as he punched her birthdate into the key panel to close the door.
Rem whined, and as usual, Bogart mimicked him.
When they were all in Elliott’s Jeep, he turned up the heat. The headlights streamed over the lane that took them to the covered portico at the main lodge’s entrance.
Dare Me Again Page 18