Protecting Peyton: The Gold Coast Retrievers, Book 4

by Muth, Becky

  A warmth spread through Kurt at the note of concern in the woman’s voice. “Yeah, I’m okay. Can I get you a cup of coffee? I really do need to talk to you about that day.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Do you know where the Cup of Joe Diner is?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s one of my favorite places.”

  “Figures.” The woman smirked. When Kurt didn’t reply right away, she laughed. “You know the stereotype. Cops. Donuts.”

  “Heh. Yeah. It’s not that much of a stereotype.” Kurt laughed. “Do you want me to follow you?”

  “Yeah, okay. See you there.”

  “Oh, wait, it might be a few minutes. I’ll have to call for a ride since my partner drove me in today,” Kurt explained.

  The woman paused for a couple of seconds and beckoned to him. “Come on. You can ride with us.”

  “You’re sure?”

  The dog chose that moment to bark and the woman laughed. “Yeah. It’s cool. Plus, Gilda vouches for you.”

  “Well, thanks, Gilda.”

  At the sound of her name, the dog gave a cheerful woof. Kurt smiled, relief surging through him when he saw the dog’s owner smiling as well.

  Chapter Eleven

  Peyton pulled the seatbelt across her chest and fastened it. She waited until the officer next to her fastened his before she stuck out her hand. “I’m Peyton, by the way.”

  “Hi Peyton.” The man gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m Kurt.”

  Peyton smiled and nodded. She pulled out of the precinct and headed towards the diner, opting to remain silent for the drive. The minute she parked the car, Gilda barked from her place on the backseat.

  “Yeah, girl. We’ll get you donut holes.” Turning to Kurt, she asked, “Have you had their giant donuts?”

  Kurt laughed. “Yeah. My partner is kind of addicted to them.”

  They exited the car and Peyton looped her arm through the handle on Gilda’s leash, gripping a section closer to the dog’s collar. She saw Kurt watching and explained, “No matter how much we train, if she’s not wearing her vest, she reverts to a normal dog with bad table manners. Do you mind if we grab our coffee and bring it back outside?”

  “Not at all. That would be great.”

  The minute they stepped inside, the other customers began pointing and whispering. Peyton sighed. This was a frequent reaction to people seeing a golden retriever in public, especially when Gilda wasn’t wearing her vest. Unlike other times when the novelty died down in a matter of minutes, people continued commenting the whole time they stood in line.

  “Go ahead, it’s on me,” Kurt offered when they reached the counter.

  “Thanks,” Peyton replied before stepping in front of him and turning to the barista. “I’ll take an extra-large coffee-based frappe with an extra espresso shot, caramel syrup, and whipped cream.”

  “Sure thing, Peyton. Do you want caramel drizzled over the whipped cream?”

  “Yes, please. And a bag of donut holes, but I’ll pay for those separately.”

  “Nope, that’s all going on mine. I’ve got this,” Kurt insisted. When Peyton tried to protest, he insisted, “Hey, I owe you both.”

  “Okay, well, thank you.” Peyton tried to hold onto the irritation from that day on the beach, but the more time she spent with him, the more it riled up her curiosity. She stood to one side, giving him space to sidle up to the counter and place his order.

  Peyton watched Kurt pull his wallet from his back pocket. Laying the wallet on the counter, he held it in place with the fingers of his injured hand while attempting to fish out his credit card. She was on the verge of asking him if he wanted help when he tugged it free and smiled.

  New customers arrived, and the pointing and whispering continued. What is their problem? Gilda and I come here all the time. You’d think they’d be used to it. Peyton turned to Kurt. “Since I have two hands, why don’t you hold her leash with your good one and I can grab our stuff.”

  Kurt agreed and took the leash, freeing Peyton to grab their drinks and the bag of donut holes. When they got outside, he led the way to the table furthest from the door. “Is this okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” Peyton sat the drinks and food on the table before holding out her hand. “I can take her leash back now.”

  Taking the leash from him, Peyton noticed that he remained standing until she took a seat at the table. Only then did he claim the opposing chair. Unsure what to say, she pulled a donut hole from the bag and held it up. Looking at her dog, she commanded in a soft voice, “Gilda, sit.” When the dog obeyed, Peyton fed her the treat and ordered, “Stay there, okay? Good girl.”

  “I am forever grateful to Gilda. That day, on the beach, she really saved my life.”

  “Wow. Now you believe me? I tried to tell you that morning.” Gilda woofed, and Peyton nodded. “She’s right. We both tried to tell you.”

  “I know. I messed up and I’m sorry. You know, it’s pretty humbling when a human saves your life. Even more when it’s an animal like Gilda.” Kurt reached down to pet the golden retriever, then took a sip of his coffee. “Every day that I go to work, I’m supposed to be a hero. I get caught up in my job that it’s hard for me to accept help. Thank you for sending her into the ocean after me.”

  “It wasn’t my idea to send Gilda into the water.”

  “What do you mean, it wasn’t your idea? She came in after me, right?”

  “She did, but it’s not anything I trained her how to do,” Peyton admitted. “She gave me the signal that she found her target, even though I didn’t initiate a search. When I gave her the command, she took off into the water. The sun was glaring off the ocean. The next thing I saw was her dragging you from the water. Because of what happened, though, I’m looking into water rescue classes as part of her formal training. If she’s good enough, she could become certified.”

  “Wow. So, wait. You didn’t see the sharks?”

  “What sharks?”

  “The ones in the ocean surrounding me. There is a video of her rescue posted to Reel Life. It was like a scene right out of the movie Jaws. Aren’t you on Reel Life?”

  “Not really. I have an account for Gilda, but I’m only on there once a week or so to handle her social media. What video are you talking about?”

  Kurt explained what happened on the beach after Peyton and Gilda left that day while tapping his cell phone’s screen. He used his thumb and index finger to zoom in before turning the phone to face Peyton. “Do you mind tapping the play button? You have to see this.”

  “Sure.” Peyton complied despite feeling confused. A few seconds of watching the video answered her unspoken questions. When it was over, she whistled through her teeth. “Wow.”

  “I know, right? If it wasn’t for Gilda, I might not have made it into work that day.”

  Peyton leaned down to kiss her dog on top of the head. “You are such a good girl,” she murmured. “And I love you so much.” She blinked away tears before she sat upright again. Distracting herself, she pulled out two more doughnut holes and gave them to Gilda.

  “Listen, I know I’ve apologized, but I owe you and your dog a lot more. I was a total jerk before.”

  “It’s fine. You had no way of knowing, and we didn’t, either. I’m just glad Gilda’s instincts kicked in and that you’re okay.”

  “No, really, I want to make it up to you both,” Kurt insisted.

  Peyton shifted in her seat. “I’m not sure how you could.”

  “I’m sure we could think of something. What brought you down to the police station?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kurt watched Peyton’s facial expressions as he waited for her reply. She bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her brow. He finally offered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s my brother. He’s missing,” she admitted.

  “Oh man, I’m sorry. Did you file a report?”

  “Yes, but the whole thing has me a little stress
ed out. His front door was busted in and there was a kind of gang symbol spray painted in his house.”

  “Has your brother ever been involved with a gang?”

  Much to Kurt’s surprise, Peyton laughed. “Would his high school chess club count? He is seriously the nerdiest guy I know. All he does is work or hang out with Gilda and me. His idea of a wild Friday night is doing yoga in his living room.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “He’s a physics professor at Gold Coast Community College.”

  Kurt nodded. Her response tugged at his memory, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The pain in his arm was returning but, as he was still a little foggy-headed from the narcotics they gave him at the hospital, he was in no rush to take anything for it.

  Peyton continued, “I have no idea where he could be, though. He’s the most boring person in the world. Oh, and he loves Star Trek. When Gilda was a puppy, he used to call her a tribble. Seriously, the most exciting part of his life was helping me train Gilda.”

  “How does that work?” Kurt leaned forward, realizing he had a genuine interest. “I mean, I’ve heard about search and rescue work before, but I don’t have any personal experience with it.”

  “If Owen doesn’t contact me soon, I’ll need someone to fill in for him when I train Gilda. Would you care to join us on a hike when you're better? You could see how it works firsthand.” Peyton took a sip of her coffee and stared at his bandaged arm before grinning. “No pun intended.”

  “Okay, sure. I mean, I have the next couple of weeks off work. Would I need to bring anything special?”

  “Just yourself. Oh, and can you bring a baseball cap? Something old that you’ve had for a while.”

  Kurt shrugged. “Sure, I can do that. Would you prefer that I drive?”

  “It’s okay. I can drive the Mini.” Before he could interrupt, Peyton explained, “Gilda’s used to riding in my car, and you’re injured.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Speaking of that, how did you get injured?”

  A shrill voice interrupted. “Surfer boy! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  Kurt looked for the source of the voice and groaned. Bouncing through the parking lot, a familiar and persistent redhead waved at him. Unlike other firefighters, she wore a too-small shirt that showed off the outline of her undergarments as well as her shapely curves.

  Turning back to Peyton, he pleaded, “I can explain later, but can you please pretend we’re on a date? Just for, maybe, five minutes?”

  “Why?”

  “Please. I’ll do anything you want.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything. You name it, and if it’s in my power I’ll do it.”

  “Um, okay. Sure.” She tilted her head and opened her mouth to say something else. The redhead reached their table before either of them could speak further on the topic.

  “Kurt! You disappeared the other night and you never came back. Where’d you go?”

  Kurt gave her a polite nod. “Hey there...Firefighter Hawkins, wasn’t it? How did you know I’d be here?”

  “Your dad totally said I could find you here,” Nicole boasted, pulling her shoulders back a little, the move thrusting her chest forward. One glance at Kurt’s wrist, however, and she shoved her curvaceous form next to him on the bench. Curling one hand around his shoulder, with the other she stroked his injured wrist with gentle, petting motions. “Oh no! What happened to you? You poor thing. Does it hurt?”

  “It didn’t until you touched it.”

  “Oops.” Nicole giggled.

  Kurt withdrew his hand and cleared his throat. “Nicole, I’d like you to meet Peyton.”

  “Hello there, Nicole,” Peyton greeted the other woman with a cordial smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Nicole ignored Peyton and continued staring at Kurt. “Your dad also hinted that you needed a plus one for your family get together.”

  “No, I don’t. I have one. Right, Peyton?”

  Peyton reached across the table and took Kurt’s uninjured hand. “You certainly do.”

  Nicole’s manicured brows narrowed above her mocha-hued eyes. “So, I take it your father doesn’t know about this?”

  “What’s to know? He told me, before I left work today, to find a plus one. Peyton is my plus one.” Kurt lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Right, Peyton?”

  “Indeed.” Peyton batted her lashes at him from across the table.

  “You know, I really think he wanted me to come with you. I’m sure everyone will understand if you change your mind.” Nicole looked as if she had more to say, but she sneezed, a quick, high-pitched sound that was more akin to a bird-like chirp.

  Kurt was surprised when Peyton entwined her fingers with his. Soon she was using her thumb to stroke the side of his wrist. Nicole was still chattering at his side, but he found it difficult to concentrate on her words.

  Nicole sneezed twice more and rubbed her face with her palms. “Is there a dog around here?”

  “Sure. We have Gilda with us.” Kurt grinned.

  At hearing her name, Gilda poked her head out from her resting spot under the table and woofed at Nicole, drool hanging like a walrus tusk from one corner of her friendly grin.

  “Ugh! Why is that here? Shouldn’t it be tied up in a backyard? I’m very allergic to those things!”

  Kurt saw anger flash across Peyton’s face, the expression holding the power of lightning during a coastal storm. “Nicole, I’m sorry, but Gilda, Peyton, and I were sitting here first and Gilda has as much right to be here as you do. I’m not sure what discussed with my father, but I’m able to take care of myself.” When the redhead opened her mouth to reply, he added, “And if I’m not, I can always call Peyton.”

  As Nicole looked from Kurt to Peyton, her face turned every bit as red as her hair. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”

  Before Kurt could reply, she stood and rushed back down the sidewalk, the bounce in her step replaced by angry stomps against the pavement. He waited until she was out of sight before he exhaled and turned to Peyton. “Hey, thanks. I owe you a million.”

  With her hand still in his, she said, “Back to what you promised earlier. You’ll really do anything for me?”

  “Sure. That’s the deal.”

  “Okay, then.” Peyton leaned forward and stared at him. “Find my brother.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Peyton pulled her hand free from Kurt’s and studied his face as he contemplated her request. She had no doubt, if push came to shove, she and Gilda could find Owen by themselves. After seeing the state of Owen’s house, Peyton wouldn’t mind the extra resources. Besides, even if he declined, at least she had asked.

  “Well, sure. Why not?”

  “Wait, really?” Peyton sat straighter. Next to her, Gilda sensed her owner’s excitement and her tail thumped the hard ground.

  “You expected me to say no?”

  “I wasn’t sure. Although Gilda and I have worked with the police, I don’t know much about them outside of search and rescue work.”

  “You’re in luck. I have the next two weeks off, starting today. I’m all yours.” Kurt grinned, and dimples appeared near the corners of his mouth.

  Peyton felt a flush rise in her cheeks. In the process of staring at his dimples, she realized he was staring at her. “Oh, um, sounds great! Where do we start?”

  “This would be easier if I had a way to take notes. Maybe we could go back to my apartment?”

  “We could?” Gah. Did my voice squeak? My voice did not just squeak. Except it totally squeaked. I can't go back to his apartment, even if he is injured. “Or what about my place? Gilda can run around the yard and burn off energy from eating all these donuts. We can grab a late lunch on the way there.”

  “Or an early dinner?”

  “Okay, but only if you let me pay. After all, you are helping me find my brother.”

  “Fine, but, to be fair, you and your dog
saved my life.” He punctuated his words with a wink.

  I can’t believe this is the same guy from the beach. Peyton found herself smiling. “You’ve got me there.”

  * * *

  “Um, you won’t get in trouble for helping me, will you? Those other two officers wouldn’t tell me much because they’re investigating it as a crime scene.” Peyton sat various Chinese takeout containers in the middle of the dining room table.

  “They have a good point, but I’m sure I can find ways to tell you things that won’t compromise their work on the case.”

  Peyton watched the corners of Kurt’s mouth turn up into a lazy smile. Oh, dear God. What have I got myself into? Focus, woman. You need to find Owen. The mini-pep talk worked, and Peyton felt her reaction to his smile dwindling. “You have a good point. Do you have a drink preference? I have water, iced tea, and coffee.”

  “Tea is great, thanks.” Kurt fumbled as he attempted to fold open one of the cardboard boxes.

  Peyton waved him away with her hands. “Have a seat, please. I’ve got this. You’re a guest.”

  “You’re the boss,” he conceded, claiming one of the wooden chairs around the table.

  Peyton fixed their drinks and set them in place, along with flatware and plates, before disappearing into the kitchen again. When she returned, she held a new rawhide bone.

  “Who’s a hungry girl? Sit, please.” Peyton jiggled the bone in the air. The golden retriever’s body shook from the effort of obeying, her gaze glued to the treat. After counting to twenty in her head, Peyton tossed the rawhide treat into the air. Gilda caught it with her teeth before it hit the ground and ducked under the table. “Works every time. Now she won’t bother us while we eat. I hope you don’t mind me opening your containers for you. Owen would say I’m being bossy, but I’ve got the benefit of two functional hands.”

  “Makes sense to me. I appreciate the help.”

  Peyton took the seat across from Kurt and lifted her fork. “Bon appetit.”