by Cathryn Fox
“He’s still in Europe at one of his conventions. He’ll be home at the end of the month. But enough about your father,” she said. “Let’s talk about Cole.”
Leaving Gemma standing on her doorstep, Cole worked to get her out from under his skin, knowing she was a girl with the right ammunition to rock his world. He hurried back to his motorcycle and walked past her now-closed clinic. As he worried for his dog, it had him considering all the great work Gemma was doing and the importance of her cause.
He wondered how he could help her—outside of attending one of her events. The thoughts of donning a suit, mingling with the rich and famous and talking about his life had him breaking out in a rash. He climbed on his bike, started the ignition and pulled into traffic. A few minutes later he parked beside his old pickup truck at the back of the closed motorcycle shop, and made his way in through the side entrance.
Tired after a long day, all he wanted to do was flop down on his cot and forget about the way Gemma had made him feel tonight. He didn’t want to think about how all he wanted to do was drag her into his arms and fuck her long and hard until he got her out of his system once and for all. Although, when it came to Gemma, he feared one taste, one sweet touch of her body, would simply draw him in deeper to a place he had no intention of going.
He opened the shop door to find Jack and two other ex-soldiers playing cards. As they roused each other, the camaraderie making Cole smile, the three shared shots of dark rum and tried to “one up” each other with their stories. Cole looked at the motley crew. They weren’t just his friends, mere comrades in the field, they were a brotherhood. Men who had each other’s backs in the good times and the bad. Deciding to join them for a round, hoping the alcohol would numb the memories of Gemma and put him fast to sleep so the morning would come quicker, he peeled off his coat and tossed it over a chair.
“You been in battle, buddy?” ex-security specialist Garrett Andersen asked. He gestured toward Cole’s bloodstained coat as he unconsciously rubbed the purple scar on his face, a habit he couldn’t seem to break, Cole noticed.
Jack arched a brow and slid an empty shot glass across the table as Colby, a former working shepherd, sat at his feet. “Anything we can do?” Jack asked, always ready to stand on the front line with his comrades, whether in the field or in the streets.
“It’s Charlie’s blood.”
The three men instantly sobered, and all eyes focused on him. “What happened to Charlie?” they asked in unison.
He watched the men relax as he explained the whole situation. “He’s going to be okay. I’ll be picking him up in the morning.”
Cole flipped his chair around to straddle it, and his gaze went from Jack, to Garrett, to fellow bomb expert Josh Mansfield. These three guys, these military dog handlers, had all loved and lost animals in the field. He considered the work Charlie had done with him overseas. Then, as he thought about the work his Lab would be doing with him here on American soil, an idea formulated.
Deciding to get right to the point, he poured himself a shot and asked, “What do you guys know about the no-kill shelter Gemma Matthews is running?” Christ, saying Gemma’s name out loud triggered a reaction in his body and had his blood flowing thick and heavy. He clenched his teeth hard enough to break bone, cursing his cock for betraying him once again.
“Gemma Matthews as in Brandon Matthews’s kid sister?” Jack angled his head and toyed with the dog tags around his neck, something they all continued to wear for their own personal reasons. For Cole, it was so he’d never forget the vow he made to Brandon, never forget how important it was to his childhood friend that he watch over his younger sister and keep her out of harm’s way.
Noting the way Jack was staring at him with those far too perceptive eyes of his, Cole kept his face expressionless. He didn’t want to give away his feelings where Gemma was concerned. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“I’ve run into her a few times. She’s doing good things over at that clinic of hers.”
Garrett pushed back in his chair, balancing on two legs. “I see her name in the paper all the time for the charity work she does. From what I understand she’s raising money to try to keep her shelter a no-kill zone. I also heard it’s overcrowded and if she can’t expand, she’s going to have to turn animals away. And you know what that means.”
Cole nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“Why are you asking, Cole?” Jack looked at Colby, his German Shepherd, who thumped his tail in response, his big, soulful eyes staring up at his master with admiration.
Cole took a swig of rum and let it burn down his throat. “Why don’t we take some of the dogs off her hands?” Truthfully, what he had in mind would be helping them both out. It would free up room in Gemma’s shelter until she could expand, and it would give him something to do with his hands other than ravishing the young girl who’d blossomed into one hell of a sexual woman.
“What do you have in mind?” Garrett asked, his dog tags jangling as he dropped his chair back down onto four legs.
“We all know there is a shortage of service dogs, and since we’re all handlers, why don’t we train these dogs ourselves and get them into the hands of our bomb hunters here on American soil.”
“Yeah, well, I know I hate the thoughts of any dog being put down,” Josh said and Colby thumped his tail like he was in total agreement.
Garrett piped in. “We owe it to all the dogs we lost, and to all the ones we couldn’t bring back home after their tour.”
“And we do have that abandoned military base nearby we could use for training,” Cole said, looking at Jack. They exchanged a knowing look. While Jack had enlisted, preferring active field duty over becoming an officer and eventually riding a desk, they both knew he could put a call into his father. As a general, his father was a man who could make shit happen, especially when it was for a good cause like this.
“I can check it out and make some calls. The base would be a great place to set up training and obstacles.” Jack gave a slow nod, clearly warming to the idea. “You’ve convinced us, now, how are you going to convince Gemma we can train her mutts and turn them into certified service dogs?”
“Leave that to me.” Cole met the three sets of eyes staring at him, held up his shot glass and asked, “Are we all in?” After the four clinked glasses Cole said, “Here’s to Operation K9. Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Three
After a night filled with salacious dreams of Cole, Gemma climbed from her bed. As she made her way to the shower a knock sounded on her door. She grabbed her robe, slipped it on over her nightie and followed a barking Stallone down the hall. Who the heck could be pounding on her door at such an ungodly hour? She peeked out the side window and her pulse leaped when she found the object of last night’s fantasies standing on her doorstep.
She unlocked her door and started to inch it open when Stallone stuck his nose into the crack and swung it wide. Gemma faltered backward and Cole jutted his arm out to grab her before she landed with an undignified thud. His hand cupped her elbow as Stallone stood between them, panting and looking to be loved by the hard-assed soldier who had a soft spot for canines.
“Whoa, you okay?” Cole looked like sex incarnate, making any sort of response nearly impossible. She stole a quick glance at the man hovering close, taking pleasure in the way his navy cotton T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders and a hard chest. Her glance dropped to faded jeans that hugged him in all the right places, or all the wrong places, depending on who you were asking. With his hair still damp, the spicy scent of his freshly showered skin wafted before her nose. Her nipples tightened in heated response.
“Cole,” she said, locking her knees to keep upright. She looked over his shoulder and tried not to notice the way his work-roughened hands felt on her skin, or the way his touch had fire zinging through her body, one part in particular. Her mind took that moment to consider how those large hands of his would feel on her naked flesh, her bare breasts, deep between h
er legs. She worked to swallow down the heat searing her blood and asked, “What are you doing here?”
As though suddenly realizing he was still holding her, his hand fell to his side and she instantly missed the warmth of his touch. “I have to get Charlie, and since your place was on my way, I thought I’d drive you to work.”
When she noticed the way his gaze dropped to her robe, which had inched open to expose her very short, very skimpy nightgown, she almost tightened the belt but decided against it. The heck with covering up. Let him look. Maybe he’d like what he’d see and finally do something about it. Okay, there was no denying her inner bad girl was at play.
She looked past his shoulders and waved to a neighbor. The elderly lady was watching their exchange with far too much curiosity as she sauntered to the end of her driveway to snatch her morning paper. That’s when Gemma realized the state of her hair. She finger-combed it, trying to make herself a little more presentable to the man she wanted in her bed today every bit as much as she did all those years ago.
“I’m not ready, yet. I just woke up.”
“I’ll wait,” he said. She didn’t miss the hitch in his voice, or the way he suddenly averted his gaze, staring at the plant in the corner like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. She sighed inwardly. What would it take to get him to open his eyes and look at her like that?
Flustered by the things this man made her feel without even trying, she said, “Come in then, before we give Mrs. Henderson a coronary.” She dragged him inside. As he filled her entranceway, his close proximity overwhelmed her senses and weakened her already wobbly knees. “What are you doing up so early anyway?”
“It’s move-in day and I want to get Charlie settled before the guys and I start hauling furniture.”
She nodded and pointed to her kitchen. “Go press the button on my coffee maker while I shower.”
His glance moved back to the slit in her robe and he looked like he was in pain when he asked, “You’re going to shower?”
“Of course I am. I just got up.” In desperate need of a hot cup of coffee after such a scintillating start to her day, she pointed toward her kitchen to set him into motion. “I won’t be long.”
Cole shut the door behind himself, and she turned to make her way down the hall. She tore off her clothes and caught sight of her hard nipples in the vanity mirror. Without conscious thought her hands went to them and she let loose a sexually frustrated groan as she brushed her palm over the pebbled buds, tired of taking the edge off herself.
Sure, she’d been with other guys—after all, she was a woman with needs—but most of them cared about their own climax. No man had ever taken the time to get to know her body or figure out what it took to push her over the edge. But Cole… Cole was all about giving and would no doubt take the time to pleasure a woman properly.
As a fine shiver of longing moved through her, the sound of Cole playing with Stallone pulled her thoughts back. She jumped in the shower, turning the water to cool. Twenty minutes later, dressed in a fresh pair of scrubs, with her hair tied back, she padded to the kitchen. When she saw Cole standing there, leaning against the doorjamb with a cup of coffee in his hand, her blood burned hotter than ever and she had to remind herself how to breathe.
He gave her that familiar sexy grin that curled her toes and said, “Milk, no sugar, right?”
She took the cup from him and worked to sound casual. “You remembered.”
He tapped his head and turned to the side, making room for her to pass. “I remember everything.”
Sexual tension grew in her body as she shimmied past him to grab a muffin. She took a huge bite to hide a cringe, wishing he’d forget the night she’d made a fool of herself in the barn. She glanced at the clock and, looking for a distraction, she said, “Charlie should be awake. We should go. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
She discarded the rest of her muffin, took care of Stallone, then ran a toothbrush over her teeth. Once finished she found Cole at the front door waiting for her.
He gave Stallone a scrub behind the ears and asked, “Does he stay here alone all day?”
“Sometimes I take him to work with me, but when I know I have a busy day scheduled I leave him here and call the dog walker.”
“I could walk him for you.”
As she looked at the man dominating the front entrance her heart beat a little faster. He was harder now, tougher, but neither time nor distance had changed her feelings for him. Since last night’s dreams proved she couldn’t fight her attraction to him, common sense dictated the less time she spent with him the better. She was already in too deep where he was concerned, and the fact that he gave her plant more attention than her slinky nightie spoke volumes. Perhaps she should start dating some of those bachelors her mother went to great lengths to find. And perhaps she should start giving them a chance instead of comparing everyone to the boy from her youth—a boy who was solid, steadfast and reliable, the toughest guy she knew—because when she did they always came up short.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she answered. “And thanks for your offer, but Stallone loves his walker, and he gets to play with all the other dogs.”
She locked up and they made their way outside and walked toward his truck. She climbed inside and her eyes never left him as he circled the truck to jump into the driver’s seat. A few minutes later, they were passing rows and rows of houses that all looked similar. A car horn sounded as a sports car sped by them, trying to catch the light before it turned red. When she noticed Cole had gotten awfully quiet she cast him a glance.
She resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his arm and said, “Charlie’s going to be okay. He’ll be out playing before you know it.”
He smiled and gave a quick nod. “I know. Thanks to you he’ll be back in the field with me in no time at all, and once again we’ll be working side by side.”
“He’s going back to work?”
“Damn straight. He loves it and he’s good at it.” He scrubbed his chin, and she could tell he had something else on his mind.
“What?” she asked.
He tossed her one of his disarming grins, and her insides swirled like an unleashed tornado. “Well…” he began.
She arched a curious brow, and when they stopped for a red light, she asked, “What’s on your mind, Cole?”
“Last night the guys and I were thinking about your no-kill shelter and how we can help.”
She lifted a hopeful brow. “You guys are going to come to the banquet to speak?”
“No, we were actually thinking more along the lines of taking a few dogs and training them. If we turned them into certified service dogs we could put them into the hands of bomb-hunting handlers here on US soil.”
“Cole…” she began, shaking her head. Most of the animals in her shelter were mutts. While she knew you could teach an old dog a new trick, she wasn’t sure they could turn them into trained service dogs.
“The dogs will be in good hands, Gems,” he rushed out. “These guys take better care of their animals than they do themselves. I can promise you that.”
The light turned green and Cole took the corner. “I don’t know,” she said.
“You of all people know working dogs love what they do and they don’t just thrive on it, they live for it. We’d have to work with the dogs individually, to discover if they have the right personality and can follow orders. It’ll take a great deal of time, but the guys and I have a whole lot of that on our hands now. It’s a win-win situation.”
She mulled it over and her stomach clenched when she thought of the alternative. If she didn’t make room in her shelter or get the funding she needed, she was going to have to turn animals away. But she still wasn’t sure if they could be turned into working service dogs. Then again, she could trust Cole, and he’d never certify any animal he felt wasn’t capable or ready. The fact that he and the others wanted to help touched her deeply.
“Will you at least let me prove I can train them and show you how much they thrive on it?” he asked.
“How?”
“There’s an old military base not too far from here. Jack is looking into training them there. I’ll prove to you that the guys and I have what it takes and show you how their work can save lives. And once you’re satisfied, we can go from there.”
When they reached her clinic, he parked and turned to her. Her heart swelled in her chest as she reached for her door handle. When presented with a problem, Cole certainly was a man of action. What he and his comrades wanted to do to help meant the world to her. “Thank you, Cole.”
Cole nodded and they climbed from the truck and made their way to her front door. She inserted her key into the lock and he pulled open the door and held it for her. They entered and she gave him a quick tour of the facility as she guided him to the recovery room where Charlie was staying. A wide smile lit Cole’s eyes the second he found Charlie waiting for him, his tail wagging madly.
Her heart lodged in her throat as she watched the two reunite. After giving Charlie a thorough examination, she saw them off and turned her attention to her lobby, which had begun to fill up with four-legged patients.
A long time later, tired as the workday came to a close, Gemma walked into her back office. She plunked down in her cushy chair and, after a call to the event planner, she remembered her blind date.
Grimacing, she shook her mouse to wake her computer and typed in the name Douglas Washington. If he was going to be her escort, she at least wanted to know a little bit about the guy her mother wanted to marry her off to. She read his profile, which was about as exciting as a wet crouton, then let loose a long sigh. Honestly, she needed to stop comparing every man she went out with to Cole, otherwise she was going to spend the rest of her life alone. Someday she’d like to get married and have a family of her own, which had her wondering more about Cole. Now that he was back for good, what did he want out of life besides work?