by Gary, Codi
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” he said, grinning.
She looked sheepish. “That was when I was trying to be professional.”
“Since when is sharing a meal unprofessional?” he asked.
Oliver noticed the red stain of her cheeks and wondered what she was thinking.
“It can be too casual and often leads to personal questions, as we’ve already seen,” she said.
“Ah, and getting to know each other is a bad idea, right?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
“SO, I’M THINKING we’ll advertise in the Sacramento Bee and on Facebook. You probably don’t know if the program is already set up on social media, huh?”
Once she’d finished eating, Eve had spread out her planner on her side of the table, excited to share her ideas.
“We can even do an event page and people can RSVP online. We can post pictures and videos of the dogs and their handlers—Oh!”
“Watch out, ladies and gentlemen, she has an idea,” Oliver said.
“Ha-ha, but yes I do! Alpha’s dogs come from the local shelter, right?”
“I believe so,” he said.
“So, we could use the bachelor auction as a chance for adoptable animals to be seen by the public. The shelter can sign up their dogs, and the trainers from the program can lead the dogs out. I’ll look into a vendor who sells homemade dog treats, and we can stuff picnic baskets with both dog and people food. People can bid on a ‘picnic with a pooch’ and the pooch’s handler. They’ll get to know the dog and have one free training lesson. You could have the trainers teach the winners some basic skills. I think it could work!”
“You’re not talking about the kids, right?” he asked.
“No, the adult trainers. The kids can walk the Alpha dogs around the event, handing out information and doing mini demonstrations.”
“So, you’re essentially pimping out the trainers, right? It’s not really the dogs people are bidding on,” he said.
Eve paused for half a second before answering. It was true that the auction’s main focus was the dogs, but if they got enough attractive male and female trainers? Well, if the rest of them looked anything like Oliver Martinez, women would pay extra to spend an afternoon with the trainers.
“I mean, if you want us to strut our stuff for charity, you could at least be up-front about it,” he said.
“It’s about the dogs, but if someone happens to notice how good-looking one of the trainers is and wants to pay a little more, then I say yay.”
“I feel objectified,” he said.
Eve burst out laughing. “Does it make you uncomfortable to have people ogling your hot body?”
“You think my body is hot, huh?” he teased.
Well, hadn’t she just veered away from professional and dived into outrageous? Yet despite the dangerous turn of the conversation, she couldn’t seem to stop talking. “Please, you know you’re nice to look at.”
“Why, I think that is the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we met,” he said.
“What?” Eve twisted her face in an expression of mock horror. “You mean in the hour that I’ve known you, I’ve only paid you one compliment? How dare I?”
Oliver’s deep chuckle made her smile along with him. If she was being honest with herself, she’d actually been having fun sparring with him. He was confident, funny, and didn’t back down just because of who her dad was.
Which made it dangerously easy to like him.
Liking him was fine, even being friendly with him. But she’d also caught herself gazing too long into his eyes and admiring the little crinkles in the corners when he smiled. His mouth was perfect, neither too full nor too thin, and when his tongue slipped across his lips to catch the sprinkles of salt from his french fries, she’d caught herself doing the same, imagining that tongue on hers. His big, tan hands looked rough, and she could almost feel them trailing across her skin, leaving lightning strikes of desire in their wake.
Stop it, now! He is not the first military man you’ve thought was hot, and he won’t be the last.
Their server came back to the table with their check, and Eve reached into her purse for her wallet, but Oliver laid some cash down.
“What are you doing? I can pay for my meal,” she said.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
“But this isn’t a date,” she said, ignoring the definite squeak in her voice.
“I know that, but it doesn’t mean I can’t buy your lunch.”
Eve pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “I’ll leave the tip, then.”
“It’s just easier if I add it to the bill,” he said firmly. He stood up to go pay at the front and added, “If you’re nice to me, I might let you pay next time.”
He walked away, and Eve started to gather up her papers, surprised and confused. Most of the time, guys expected her to split the bill with them on dates, and yet Oliver had snatched it up for a business meeting.
Before she joined him in the front of the restaurant, she caught the server and slipped her the ten. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” the server said.
They walked out the door, and Eve saw Oliver shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing, just that between the two of us, she made a twenty-dollar tip on a twenty-three-dollar meal,” he said.
Back at the car, Eve unlocked the door with a laugh. “Well, at least we made her day better.”
“You would have made a lousy soldier,” Oliver said teasingly.
Despite his lighthearted tone, Eve bristled. “Why do you say that?”
“Because every time I’ve tried to take the lead on something, you go your own way,” he said.
Though he wasn’t wrong, his assumption grated on her and reminded her of her dad, telling her when she was fifteen that she needed to stop worrying about guns and shooting ranges and concentrate on more important things, like grades and getting ready for college. The one time she’d mentioned the military, he’d laughed and told her she was too bullheaded, that she couldn’t even follow her soccer coach’s instructions.
To be fair, that coach had been an idiot.
“Ironically, that’s something my dad and you have in common,” she said.
“Thinking you’re too independent for the military? Is that a bad thing?” Strapping himself into his seat, he added, “I bet you were the rebel girl who wore ‘Question Authority’ T-shirts and turned down every dumb jock who asked you out.”
“There you go making an ass out of yourself by assuming you know me,” she said. Eve started the car and backed up before continuing. “Actually, I played soccer and never got so much as detention. And I dated at least two football players, but they weren’t stupid.”
“Huh, well look at that. You were straightlaced, and I was the guy your daddy warned you about.”
Eve merged into traffic and asked, “What kind of guy was that?”
“Let’s just say my mom had to have more than one talk with the principal, and my dad, who was a cop, didn’t appreciate having to bury pending charges when I got arrested.”
“What did you get arrested for?” she asked.
“Joyriding with my friends,” he said. “I grew up in small-town Texas, and I rode shotgun while my best friend boosted a car with three other guys. We’d been drinking a bit, and when we came around a turn, there was a cow in the road. Kenny swerved, and boom, we hit a pole head-on and had to call my dad. We were idiots. We could have all been killed, but as it was, we escaped with minor injuries and community service, but Kenny . . . Well, Kenny was driving, so he went to jail and I went into the military.”
The small voice in her head warned her to hold her tongue, but she hadn’t listened so far today. Why start now?
“You were lucky. I mean, it’s terrible about your friend, but drinking and driving is idiotic on its own without stealing a car.”
“I know that. The only reason we got off as light as we did is because my dad
was friends with the car’s owner and he spoke up for us,” he said. “If I had driven, it could have easily been me in Kenny’s place.”
“Have you talked to Kenny since?” she asked.
“Not in years,” Oliver said.
Silence stretched in the car until Oliver admitted, “I have no idea why I told you that.”
“Because we were talking about who we were in high school.” They were complete opposites; that was for sure. She had always played it safe, hadn’t even had her first drink until she was twenty-one. Not that she hadn’t had the chance, but she calculated risks, always had. Her mom used to call her the “cautious one,” while her brother was the wild one. Even her few rebellions had been small.
“Yeah, well, I would have been one of those idiots you wouldn’t have dated,” Oliver said.
Eve thought about that. There had been guys who’d gotten into trouble at her school, and she remembered rolling her eyes at them, thinking they were morons. No, sixteen-year-old her would definitely have steered clear of Oliver.
“Just for the record, I don’t drink and drive,” he said.
“That’s good to know.”
When they reached the program facility, Eve parked and turned off the car. “So, I have a photographer friend who can come out this week and take pictures of the dogs and handlers. Do you think two on Saturday afternoon will work?”
“I’ll have to talk to Sparks and the rest of the guys, but there shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.
“Good. I’d also like to get pictures of the facility. I know this place just opened a month ago, but shots of the kids working with the dogs would be great. I want to have the social-media pages and website up by next Monday, if they aren’t up already. I can show you how to tweak them if you need help.”
“Wait, me?” he asked.
“Yeah, you. You’re helping me, and I have other things to take care of, so you’re in charge of the program’s public image.”
“I barely have a Facebook page,” he said.
“Welcome to the modern age,” she said.
Oliver opened the car door with a rueful smile. “Why me?”
“Maybe this will teach you not to get into bar fights,” she said, her mouth twitching with humor.
He groaned, and before she realized what she was doing, she grabbed his hand. “Hey, thanks for lunch. By the way, can I see your phone?”
“Why, so you can put your number in it?”
Her eyes shot up to meet his, but he looked just as surprised as she felt.
“Actually, yes, since we’ll be working so closely together,” she said softly.
Oliver handed Eve his phone, and she released his hand. He leaned over to watch her fingers fly over the screen as she entered her number.
When she finished, she handed it back to him. “Call me when you find out about the dogs.”
Oliver took the phone, but before she could pull away, he caught her hand. His grip shifted, and he brought the back of it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’ll call you soon.”
Eve’s insides turned to Jell-O, and she said nothing as he released her hand and got out of her car. Tingles still lit her skin on fire, and she lightly ran her thumb across the place where he’d kissed her. She could still feel the warmth of his mouth.
Chapter Four
FIVE DAYS LATER, Oliver stood in the kennels in the back of the facility. There were twenty-five chain link kennels lining the far end of the laminate floor, and although most were empty, there were a few large dogs barking and whining at him, including several shepherds and Labrador mixes, breeds he recognized. Sparks had told him that while the kids were there training, the dogs slept in crates in their bunks. This handful of dogs were the only ones that hadn’t been assigned yet.
Sparks stopped in front of the last kennel. “Oliver, this is Beast. You’ll be training him.”
Oliver looked through the kennel gate, saw the huge brown dog, and scowled. The mutt had a wrinkly, flat face, and his large body rippled with muscle as he stood up. After a long, lazy stretch, he slowly loped over to the front of the kennel. Oliver had spent the week working with several of the kids from Best’s group and their dogs, but up until now, he’d avoided having to train one himself.
Oliver had told Sparks about the dog auction and their involvement, and Sparks had protested until Oliver had told him that Eve’s father was the general. Unless he wanted to end up on the general’s shit list, too, Oliver had suggested that Sparks pull up his big-boy panties and deal.
It wasn’t like Oliver wasn’t going to be up on the stage with him. Eve had come up with a detailed plan for the event with duties for everyone, and she hadn’t missed a beat. All of the head trainers would be leading out a shelter dog for the “Picnic with a Pooch” auction and after lunch would give the winner one basic lesson in obedience training. The kids would be leading their dogs around the facility with raffle tickets to sell for several large prizes Eve was collecting. Oliver had actually been relieved at how easy the gig at Alpha Dog had been so far.
Then this morning, Sparks had informed Oliver that Best had found just the right dog for him to work with, and he couldn’t wuss out now. He had told Best he would help train dogs and work with the kids while he was here, so he wasn’t about to go back on his word.
Even if he was pretty sure Best was using the ugly dog to mess with him again. He should never have admitted that he wasn’t a big fan of dogs.
“Do you have anything with less drool? Why can’t I have one of the Labs?” Huge-ass dogs with massive jaws and saliva hanging from their lips hadn’t been what he had in mind to train.
Sparks opened the kennel and attached a leash to Beast’s collar. “Nope, just Beast. He’s been at the shelter for several months; people kept passing him by because of his size and looks, but with a bit of training, he’ll make a great military or police dog. Best said he would be a good match for you, since you’re both stubborn sons of bitches.”
“What am I supposed to do with him?”
“Take him home with you. I take Dilbert home.” Dilbert was Sparks’s canine charge, a huge black-and-white pit bull that liked to stick his face in Oliver’s crotch. “Best temperament-tested him before he brought him over, so he should be shiny. Oh, but he did say that they are transitioning him onto the program’s diet, so he might be a little gassy.”
Best would set him up with a giant slobbering fart factory. “I’m going to kick that guy’s ass.”
Sparks slapped the leash into Oliver’s hand. “Do what you gotta do, but I am going to grab Dilbert and get the rest of the guys ready for this photo shoot.”
At the mention of the shoot, Oliver’s skin hummed with anticipation. He hadn’t seen Eve since Monday, but they had talked on the phone. She’d called on Tuesday to find out about the dog’s temperaments, and when he’d confirmed they were good to go, she’d been off and running. The first thing she’d wanted to do was get the pictures taken, and Saturday was the only day that worked for all of the trainers.
After the shoot, they were going to go over her massive to-do list and use the pictures to set up the social-media accounts. But all Oliver cared about was getting to see her again, since he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind all week. Especially since she was texting and calling several times a day to ask his opinion or add something else to the list of things they needed to get done.
The doors that led to the back training field crashed open, and a group of teenaged boys walked in. Jorge Ortiz, one of the kids Oliver had taken off Best’s hands, shouted, “Hey, yo, Sergeant Martinez! That is one ugly ass dog!”
“I’m sure he was thinking the same thing about you, Ortiz,” Oliver said.
The kid’s face flushed, and the guys around him started in, razzing him about his looks, but he smiled good-naturedly. Ortiz was the quintessential class clown who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time smoking pot with his friends. He’d actually confided to Oliver that being
in the bunks was better than being home with his mom, who was scary as shit.
Of the three kids assigned to Oliver, he had to admit that Ortiz was his favorite. There had been an instant bond with the teenager, while his other two charges were a bit more damaged. Tommy Drake was a skinny white kid of fifteen with a chip the size of Antarctica on his shoulder, and Darrel Quinn was a towering black kid who hardly said a word. Oliver knew just looking into the kid’s dark eyes that he had seen some shit, and he’d mentioned to Sparks that Darrel might need someone to talk to. Someone who had come out of hairy situations and could relate to what was going on inside the kid.
“So, when is the general’s daughter supposed to stroll in here to crack the whip?’ Sparks asked.
“Eve’s supposed to be here with the photographer in half an hour,” Oliver said.
“Eve, huh?” Sparks smirked at him.
“What, it’s her name,” he said.
“And yet Best was ordered to call her Ms. Reynolds,” Sparks said.
“It’s just because we’re working together,” Oliver said. In actuality, he’d never asked her if he could call her Eve, but somehow, he didn’t think she’d mind.
“Well, when Eve gets here, send her out back. Figured we’d set up in the training yard, since it’s such a nice day and it’s the only place where the grass is green.”
Sparks walked away from Oliver, leaving him alone with the monster at his feet. The dog stopped panting long enough to shake his head, sending long streams of slobber flying in every direction, several of which stuck to Oliver’s pant leg. He grunted in disgust.
“You have problems, pal.”
“Well, if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” a woman said behind him.
Oliver looked up as Eve came up alongside him decked out in black slacks and a sheer polka-dot blouse. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and those same sexy glasses slid down the bridge of her nose as she glanced at Beast with a smile. “And who are you, big guy?”
Beast’s whole body started to tremble, and then he was on his feet, every muscle working to make him wiggle as he approached Eve.