by Low, Gennita
Flynn seemed surprised. He’d crossed his arms over his pecs and looked at Guinness lying on the floor. “He was a rescue, huh?”
Nodding, Willow reached over to scratch the dog’s broad head. “Once he came home, he settled in as if he’d always been here. And the work was easy for him. He needed a job.” She glanced pointedly at Maya. “Like she does.”
For a minute, Flynn looked incredibly sad when he nodded, and Willow noticed that he seemed depressed. She had a feeling he was gearing up to let her down. Maya seemed to sense it as well, because she lifted a paw to his thigh.
“Before you say anything, just think about it for a while. She’s not suffering right now. If you don’t mind me working with her a bit, we’ll see how she does. And maybe the next time I get a call-out you both can go with me. We always need more eyes at a search. She may not want to work when she gets into an environment like that.”
Willow knew that would not be the case, though. Maya had such intelligence wiggling through her body.
Flynn nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.
“So,” she crossed her legs. “Can I ask why you were jogging yourself into an early grave?”
He blinked at her, then down at the dog. “Trying to outrun ghosts.”
Her heart ached at the pain she heard in his soft voice, and she blinked at the echo of her own observation. “And did you? Outrun them, I mean.”
“Some,” he sighed. “Others are still here.”
Flynn sounded so matter-of-fact that she had to believe him.
“I’m sorry, Flynn. Is there anything I can do?”
He looked up at her as if he was surprised by the question, but he shrugged away her concern. “Nah. No biggie.”
Bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, he tensed to stand up, but his legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Willow started to get out of her own chair to help him, but he waved her away and forced himself that much harder. He made it to his feet, but wavered. Maya stepped in to lean against him, as if she understood that it would kill him to crash in front of her. Willow watched the pair, ready to leap out of her own chair to help if it seemed necessary. But they steadied. And she realized she was a little disappointed. Flynn was about to leave. Again. And she didn’t want him to.
“Thanks for the pills,” he told her. “And for taking care of Maya. I do appreciate it.”
Willow nodded once. “She’s no problem. Really.” She took a breath, gearing up to be hurt. “Hey. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Flynn looked shocked that she’d asked. His mouth fell open a little and his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. “Uh, sure. I guess we can.”
Willow fought not to giggle hysterically. First man she’d ever asked to dinner and she got an ‘I guess’. Awesome.
“I didn’t plan anything special. Maybe I can whip up some fajitas or something.”
His gray eyes lightened. “I can put away some Mexican.”
She grinned at the enthusiasm in his voice. “Well, okay then.”
Willow led him into the house and parked him in front of the TV. When she glanced at the couch a few minutes later, Flynn had passed out. His mouth hung open as he breathed deeply. Maya had parked herself on the couch beside him, head across his lap. Even in his sleep, Flynn rested one hand on top of her head. Willow smiled at the peaceful look on his face. It was the first she’d seen. The frown that had furrowed his brows so deeply had disappeared.
Willow cooked the chicken fajitas but didn’t wake Flynn when they were done. As exhausted as he appeared, she didn’t have the heart to interrupt the sleep he was getting. So she ate her dinner with Guinness as she did every night.
Chapter Three
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Flynn woke, immediately aware he wasn’t in his bed. The room was dim, but he knew without being able to see much that he wasn’t alone. Soft light filtered in from an adjoining room, and as his bleary eyes cleared he remembered where he was. Willow’s place. Even as he thought it, he realized the woman herself was curled up on the end of the couch opposite him.
His heartbeat steadied as the details in his environment settled into place. The last thing he remembered was the doc showing him how to elevate his legs on the recliner end of the super-comfortable couch before she disappeared into the kitchen. Wonderful smells had drifted through the house, but the exhaustion he fought against every day had dragged him under.
Maya hadn’t moved, though. Her head still rested on his hips, and was the perfect, natural resting spot for his hand. Her eyes rolled up to him when he moved, but she didn’t do any more than that. He laughed at her softly.
Willow roused at the sound, stretching her arms to the air. Flynn found himself staring at her breasts, then the pale glimpse of skin at her belly as her shirt rode up. Arousal coursed through him at the sight of her softly rounded shape and he was glad Maya hadn’t moved yet. His dick had suddenly taken notice.
Clenching his jaw, he looked at the luminous numbers on his watch. Two-thirty. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he’d…wait, slept for six hours. Straight through.
He looked at his watch again, unable to believe he’d gone six straight hours without moving. Normally he catnapped. Two hours at a time. Never more than three. It seemed like he’d just fallen asleep.
Willow sat up beside him on the couch, just a few feet and the warm body of a dog separating them. She smiled at him, her long black hair rumpled around her face.
“Dude, you crashed hard. As soon as Maya laid down beside you, you were out like a light.”
Flynn shook his head and leaned forward, forcing down the leg part of the recliner. His hips ached, but he could tell he’d be able to walk out of here with no problem. Maya slid away from him to pad to the door with Guinness, waiting to go outside. Willow stood to let them out, then returned to sit on the edge of the couch. Soft golden eyes surveyed him, waiting.
“I can’t believe I slept like that. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, grinning at him. “Believe it or not, I’ve had worse dates.”
Well, fuck. She’d considered this a date. Now he felt even worse.
Then his stomach growled.
Willow laughed out loud, pushing to her feet. “Want some fajitas? Go let the dogs back in while I warm it up.”
Flynn found himself eating Mexican food at two-forty-five in the morning, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. Willow teased that he snored, but he scowled. “It was Maya.”
The dog cocked her head when she heard her name and came to his hand. He fed her the end of a tortilla and she tried to climb into his lap for more.
“You’re starting a bad habit,” Willow warned. “She’s very food motivated.”
Maya certainly didn’t mind, and neither did Guinness when he slipped him a piece of chicken beneath the table.
“So who is Mace?”
Flynn froze, the food turning to wool in his mouth. He choked the bite down his throat and looked at his plate as he tried to formulate an answer.
“You mumbled his name when you were sleeping. It sounded like you were very close,” she murmured.
“We were,” he breathed.
Did he dare tell her about him? The counselors were always urging him to open up, but did he know her well enough to do that?
“He was my Military War Dog in Afghanistan.”
He heard her softly indrawn breath.
“Wow. I wondered if you’d been in the military. Army?”
Flynn looked up at her. “Navy SEALs.”
Watching the shock on her face was a little gratifying. And disheartening.
“The beard makes sense now.”
Frowning, he ran his hand over the thick bristles, realizing they were getting a little long. He normally kept it trimmed up and presentable. Recently, though, he’d been run a little ragged.
“So, you said ‘was’.”
His stomach twisted, shocking him, and he smelled smoke. Clenching his hand on his thigh, he tried to force the vis
ion away. He’d thought he’d gotten over Mace’s loss. “Yeah, he died over there.”
Visibility began to fade away and he felt the stifling heat of the dessert. Maya whined and planted her two front paws on his legs. Flynn was a little startled, but he reached up to pat her on the side. “It’s okay, girl.”
He glanced at Willow. She had tears swimming in her golden eyes.
“I’m so very sorry,” she whispered, reaching across the table to hold his hand.
Flynn’s throat tightened with grief and he knew if he didn’t get out of here there was a very real possibility he would break down. Shifting away from the table, he pushed up from the chair. Maya landed beside him, looking up at him. Though it hurt to do so, he pulled away from Willow’s comforting hand.
“Thank you for dinner,” he told her. “Or whatever this was. I guess it’s a little late for dinner, or even a midnight snack. But it was really good.”
He snapped his mouth shut and turned for the door, but she caught his arm. Before he could pull away, she’d wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. The feeling of receiving lush comfort like this was so alien it shocked him to stillness. His family tried to commiserate, but they treated him as if he were being a child, moping after a ‘damn dog’.
Mace had been everything to him. The MWD had saved his life, and that of his team more times than he could count, identifying insurgents before the men had even had a hint. He’d spotted landmines, snipers, suicide bombers. When Flynn blundered into situations with more balls than caution, Mace had taken up the slack, scanning the environment for anything that might damage his handler. They’d slept together, shared many MRE’s together, and now shared blood.
As Willow held him, with her head resting on his chest, some internal guard built into his psyche snapped. He told her about the best friend he’d ever had. The best friend he’d lost. He wrapped his arms around her head and leaned his cheek against her soft hair, allowing himself to remember the details he’d tried so hard to push away.
Willow held him tight, until his back started to ache from standing in one spot for so long. When he shifted to ease the discomfort, she pulled back enough to look up at his face. The condemnation and recriminations he expected to see in her eyes weren’t there, only vast amounts of understanding.
Flynn felt physically and emotionally drained. His body seemed to weigh twice what it normally did. Everything was fuzzy, like he was on the anti-psycho drugs again. When he glanced at the wall clock, the hands wavered and he realized it was just after four in the morning. They’d been standing there for more than half an hour. He started to pull away, but Willow tightened her hand on his, tugging him into motion. She led him into a bedroom and sat him on the edge of her bed. Tugging his tennis shoes from his feet, she nudged him to raise his legs and lay down. Flynn didn’t have it in him to fight her. Closing his eyes, he let her cover him with the comforter.
When her weight eased in beside him, he turned on his side to pull her close. Maya jumped onto the bed behind him and curled into his back.
Flynn let himself drift away, more secure than he’d felt in a long time.
Willow held Flynn’s hard body to her, trying to stem her tears. They dripped down the bridge of her nose, one after another, wetting the sheets. The loss in his voice had undone her. Made her ache for him. It didn’t seem like he’d talked about it much before, so though she’d gotten tired, she’d waited right there with him as he remembered his dog.
She’d waited for the story of his passing with fear in her heart, because she probably would have broken down sobbing. But that part of his story he kept to himself.
He’d seemed wrung out when she’d pulled back to look at him, dazed, too brittle to try to drive home. So she’d tucked him into her bed. And curled in after him.
Though she was sorry for his loss, maybe it had helped him to talk about it.
Willow woke up at seven, thanks to Guinness’s cold black nose nudging her awake. Time for breakfast. She slipped out of bed, leaving Flynn to sleep, and dressed as quietly as she could.
Crossing the paver path to the office, she fed the animals there and checked on her cases. Sue came in a bit later and Willow headed home to take a quick shower. Flynn had already disappeared. Maya was on the back porch and a note had been propped on one of the small tables.
‘Thank you.’
Disappointed that he was gone, she went through the house, dropping clothes. The hot shower felt good after the chilly Colorado morning. They were moving into fall now and she had a feeling the search and rescue calls would start coming faster. She’d only had three over the summer. Once the colorful fall leaves started to hit the ground, people seemed to lose a lot of their sense. They took off on trips into the mountains unprepared for anything Mother Nature threw at them.
Willow’s day was busy, to say the least. A dog came in that had eaten two pounds of chopped sirloin, Styrofoam tray and all. It was obvious by the pain he was in that it wasn’t moving, so off to surgery they went. She’d no sooner gotten out of surgery than a cat came in with a thread and needle in her throat. So off they went again. An African Gray arrived squawking with a mangled wing; broken after the owner had tried to clip his toenails himself and squeezed the bird under his arm too tightly.
The calls came one after another, so when she heard Flynn’s truck pull into the parking lot, she sighed. It figured. She hadn’t had a second to herself, other than the single time she’d stopped to go pee a couple hours ago. Her braid was unraveling and she was fairly certain she didn’t smell so good right now thanks to an overzealous puppy. Last night had been shoved to the far corner of her mind because she didn’t know exactly what to do with it. If Flynn came in all surly and angry, she could probably infer he was defensive about what had happened. But he shouldn’t be. It was obvious he’d needed the release. And the rest.
They were in a bit of an odd relationship, though. They weren’t actually friends, but they were certainly more friendly than they were a year ago. There was attraction on both their parts, she knew that; she’d felt his eyes on her breasts a lot, but they hadn’t acted on it.
Maybe they never would.
That thought truly made her sad and she had to close her eyes for the briefest second to absorb the impact. She’d been thinking about him for so long that him not being there shocked her.
Willow walked down the hallway, more anxious than she wanted to allow herself to be. Flynn stood at the counter, smiling slightly, which was shocking in itself. His big hands were curled beneath something small and furry, but it didn’t seem to be an emergency. In spite of herself, she rushed forward to see what he had.
Flynn tightened his spine as Willow walked down the hallway toward him. But as she looked up at him with bright curiosity in her burnished golden eyes and her cheeks lifted with her broad smile, he felt something clutch in his gut. Willow had a wispy, soft beauty. Her hair was a mess again, but it was who she was. She didn’t try to make herself into something she wasn’t.
The jeans she wore outlined her voluptuous shape, even under the ridiculously nondescript black t-shirt she wore. Her nails were blunt and a little ragged, but he knew for a fact she had the softest touch imaginable.
Emotion tightened his throat as he thought about last night and the way she’d completely taken him over. It had been…a revelation. That he could be that open with somebody and not feel like a freak.
Her plump pink lips were moving and he slammed back into his head to respond to her query. “I, uh, found him hiding under my truck tire when I left work.”
Willow took the fluffy, dirty kitten from his hands and propped it against her breasts, cooing to it. “This is exactly what I needed at the end of a long, tough day. Thank you.”
She smiled up at him and he was struck with the urge to lean down and kiss her to tell her she was welcome. He’d never felt the urge so strongly before and he wasn’t sure what to do with it, so he stayed where he was, just gazing down at her.
The little cat rumbled in happiness at the attention it was receiving.
Willow held him up high enough to look at him. “He seems fairly healthy. Weight is good.” She lifted the kitten’s lip to press at his gums. “Good color response, so he’s not fighting anything obvious. I wonder if he just didn’t wander away from someone’s house?”
Flynn shrugged, unable to come up with words to respond. He felt dumb just standing there, but he wanted to watch her. He didn’t care if she gave the kitten a rectal exam, he’d watch her.
Actually, he wanted her attention on him again. Last night had been surreal. Blocks of time were gone. But he felt lighter in his skin than he had in a long time.
“Do you want to go grab a pizza or something?”
Willow looked up at him in surprise, but almost immediately smiled. Her eyes flicked to the side, then back to him. “I would love to, Flynn. Can you give me some time to clean up?”
He nodded, remembering too late that they weren’t the only ones in the office. Sue had a mile-wide grin on her face and the vet tech stepped forward to take the kitten. She had a sly smile on her face as well, and he felt a little embarrassed at inviting their boss out so abruptly.
Not so smooth anymore, Flynn.
“Why don’t you move your truck over to the house and I’ll meet you there. Maya will be glad to see you.”
He nodded and escaped the stares of the three grinning women, his skin prickling.
The drive took all of fifteen seconds, but he sat there in her driveway, hands clenched around the wheel as he tried to decide what kind of nut he had turned into. He hadn’t been on a date in years, but the evening suddenly stretched in front of him. What were they going to talk about? Do? Should he take her out or stay inside? The thought of crowds made him shudder. Crowds watching him make a fool of himself on a date made him feel sick.
This was an incredibly bad idea. His hand reached for the key in the ignition, then stopped. No, he couldn’t leave. He was man enough to go on a freaking date, no matter where they went. He’d been a SEAL, for fuck’s sake. Man up.