Shelter Me (18 page)

“Being here is better than staying over there,” he said simply.

“Except this family of mine comes with a lot of extra baggage for you. You don’t need all of that along with a cranky-ass old man shouting at you because he can’t remember where the hell he’s going.”

“You have all been nice to me, really generous, too. I appreciate that.”

“You’re good at putting on the nice face, but you don’t have to pretend around me. I know what it’s like coming home, trying to flip that switch between being over there and being here, both places so . . . different.”

Ironic that he had more in common with the senile old man than anyone else around him. Mike’s hand fell to Trooper’s head. “This fella here feels like a link, a bridge from everything that happened there to getting back here.”

“Maybe that’s why he kept chasing after you. To be the bridge.”

Mike looked down at Trooper—currently licking his healed neuter incision. “You give the dog credit for thinking through quite a plan considering he currently has his head up his own butt.”

“Maybe so.” The General chuckled in agreement for an instant until his laughter drifted away out over the river. “I only know that when this guy is around, the world feels clearer to an old foggy mind like mine.”

“Dogs can be quite a comfort, sir.” Trooper had been a lifeline for a lot of them overseas.

“Becoming forgetful, well, it’s embarrassing as hell. I’m an old soldier who survived.” He waved his hand. “And this is my reward.”

Understanding filled up the space between them in a way that went past years. For the moment they existed in a warrior’s common ground of shared experiences even on different battlefields. Were the General’s memories triggered by smells as well as sounds, too? The scent of munitions and blood filled Mike even as he struggled to draw in the fresh breeze off the river.

The past gripped him so hard—

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The sound out of nowhere had him ducking his head before his mind could register it was just balloons popping. Wincing in embarrassment, his heart damn near pounding out of his chest, he looked around to see if anyone noticed his shell-shocked reaction.

And found the General with his head ducked, too, staring right back at him.

“Shit.” The General grimaced and grinned all at once. “Where’s that boy with our lunch?”

Nine

S
IERRA WAS DOG
tired—before she finished the thought she rolled her eyes at the irony of shelter humor. She would have laughed. Except she was too weary to laugh at her own joke as she walked up the outdoor steps leading to the barn’s studio apartment without tripping over the stairs in the dark.

The adoption event had been a success. They’d found homes for eleven dogs and had a half dozen people set up for meet and greets with cats. Some of the families already had pre-approved applications, which cleared open foster homes and spaces here as well.

As Sierra climbed the stairs, the low hum of a CD player in the kennels drifted through the walls. Classical tunes calmed the dogs. Her mom had a knack for bringing back the old ways of doing things, showing how they were still effective and sometimes less expensive. Like soothing music and aromatherapy. She sure could use some of those relaxing tunes for herself. If only she could walk up these steps just to hang out with Mike, sit and listen to him play his guitar. But she had a wily mutt to chase down.

Trooper wasn’t in his crate in the family room where he normally slept, which had sent her into a tailspin initially. Then she stopped and thought. Their escape artist dog may have headed back to Mike again.

And yes, she’d jumped all over the excuse to see Mike.

Her mother had offered to check for Trooper, but Lacey looked wiped out and she still had to feed the puppies. At least they were well on their way to eating solid foods—a gruel mush. Thumbelina had a runny nose, and Lacey had been carrying the sick pup around in a baby sling.

Of course Nathan and Gramps were already in bed.

Outside the loft apartment door painted red with little brown paw prints, Sierra held her fist up, ready to knock. A television was on inside, some sports game, the noise meshing with the low music below. The world sounded . . . normal. Once she checked on Trooper, she also owed Mike a thank-you for his help today, and especially for sitting with her grandfather. She was here for that, just that . . . right?

God, she was a confused mess.

Before she lost her nerve, she knocked twice, fast.

The television silenced. Her stomach did a flip. The door opened and, holy hormone overload, that man knew how to fill a space. Even fully dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt, he made her mouth water.

She forced her eyes off the dog tags resting on his hard, muscled chest and up to his eyes. “Is Trooper here with you? He’s not in his crate and we can’t find him, so I figured he must have slipped back over here to be with you like he did before.”

“He’s not here. But don’t worry—” Mike stepped aside and waved her into the loft, remote control in his hand. “Hey, could you come in so we don’t let the A/C out and the mosquitoes in?”

“Sure.” She stepped into the sparsely filled loft apartment.
Her
apartment, with a man, a mattress and a wide-screen TV. Lord, that sounded like a country song. “Where is he then?”

The scent of soap and steam hung in the air from a recent shower. His hair was still damp at the tips.

“He’s with your grandfather. The General said he wanted Trooper to sleep in his room.”

Gramps? God, she hadn’t even thought of that. Guilt tugged at her for not having considered her grandfather wanting the comfort of that companionship.

“Oh, I should have thought to check there. We did call for Trooper, but he must have chosen not to answer. Dogs can be so much smarter than we give them credit for sometimes.” She inched deeper into the one-room studio. The door shut, sealing them inside together and making her all too aware of Mike and the scent of soap. “I’m just relieved Trooper’s okay. Relieved . . . and feeling a little guilty. I should have thought to see if my grandfather wanted an animal in his room at night. Those alarms you put on the barn and the house take away worries of Gramps letting Trooper out . . .”

“You can’t think of everything your grandfather needs. You’re not a mind reader.”

“I realize that, but still, I feel bad. We’re running a rescue here, and I didn’t think to ask my failing grandfather if he would like the comfort of an animal of his own.”

“We?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said, ‘We’re running a rescue.’ I thought it was your mother’s.”

The notion tripped her up short for a second before she continued, “Right. Mom’s always working so hard to make sure no one feels inconvenienced—or rather more inconvenienced—by the animals.” She sagged down to sit on the edge of his fat recliner chair. Better than sitting on the mattress. “I should have looked at the other side of this. Like how Nathan enjoys his snake. Gramps can’t articulate what he needs. But you saw it in only a week.”

Mike tossed the remote from hand to hand. “You’ve got so much day-to-day caregiver stuff to consider for him. It’s easy for someone on the outside like me to make one little suggestion. I just happened to notice at the park today how much the dog means to him.”

She put herself in her grandfather’s New Balance gym shoes—and wasn’t that a metaphor for Gramps’s life overall?—and realized he’d lost so much more than his memory. He’d lost control of his life, even the most basic pleasures like driving, picking dinner, walking a dog . . . having friends. “Thank you for spending extra time with him today. It really helped free up Mom and me to process more adoptions, and he seemed to enjoy talking with you. Most of all, thank you for listening to him.”

“No trouble, and I enjoyed myself,” he said, sounding sincere as he stood watching her with his sexy golden brown eyes of his. “A lazy day by the water, good company, grilled hot dogs . . . It’s great being home. Joker and Trooper enjoyed their hot dogs while we hung out by the water.”

Joker was adopted at the end of the day by a college athlete looking for a running buddy, a good match for the energetic Lab. Whatever family he had in the future would grow up with a great dog.

There was something special about the tug of a childhood pet. “Did you know my dad had a dog named Trooper when he was growing up? From the old family photos, the two dogs even kind of look alike.” So much so, it freaked her out sometimes. “The original Trooper was a German shepherd mix of some kind. I can see why my father was drawn to the dog over there.”

“That could explain the connection your grandfather feels to him, too . . . the look and the name. Maybe if Trooper gets used to sleeping at the foot of the bed, he will quit running away to me before I leave for Fort Bragg.”

Only three weeks until the council meeting. Not long after that and he would be leaving altogether. The reminder hung there between them, unsettling her. “Gramps seemed to have a really good day.”

“He did. I enjoyed the chance to meet him, the man, unfiltered by the illness.”

Tears choked her throat as she remembered visits with her grandfather. He’d taken her to military museums and battlegrounds. He’d shared war stories as they ate burgers at a museum cafeteria. She’d told her friends she had the smartest grandpa in the world.

Watching him fade away . . . hurt. While she was glad he’d enjoyed a good afternoon with Mike, she couldn’t deny she was a little jealous she’d missed out on that fleeting moment. “I’m happy he had fun at the event. We really debated whether to take him or not.” She added wryly, “Lately, we consider it a good outing if he doesn’t try to take off his pants.”

“He takes off his pants in public?” The remote control slipped from Mike’s fingers and hit the rug with a thud.

She slid from the chair to pick up the remote, finding the metal still warm from his grasp. A spark snapped between them, a connection, like static crackling all over her body. “Only once.”

As she stood slowly, he took the remote from her, his pupils widening in an answering awareness. “You should have warned me so I could be prepared to stop him if it happened again.”

“I just did.” She held on for a second, one of those loaded moments where they stood close, not quite touching but undeniably linked. She let go and walked past to the window overlooking the empty play yard that backed up to the woods, such a scenic view. “A blogger from a military e-zine stopped by my mom’s booth today, took a bunch of photos of our animals, said the blogger’s married to a guy in your platoon.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Glad she made it to the event,” he said noncommittally, his eyes following her every movement.

“Come on.” She turned around, her butt resting against the window ledge. “Did you arrange that?”

“I just let her know.” He shrugged, still downplaying his part in bringing such good press their way. “It was no big deal.”

“It’s a freaking huge deal. Mom can use all the positive press she can get right now. Thank you for helping her.”

“I did it for you, too.” He joined her at the window, leaning one of those broad shoulders against the window frame. “Your heart is in this place, too. Don’t deny it. So maybe I did it to score brownie points with you.”

“Why can’t you accept a thank-you or a compliment?” She tugged his dog tags lightly. “It’s okay to be the hero.”

“I made a phone call. BFD.” He pulled his dog tags from her fingers and tucked them inside his gray Army T-shirt.

“It is a BFD.” She pressed a hand over his chest, over the dog tags and his beating heart. “All you’ve done for us this week is a huge BFD. The grounds look better. Repairs on the house and the barn have never looked better. In what could be a tight vote on whether or not having a rescue here follows county codes, you’ve already won over some people to our side. Mom said she got two positive comments at the grocery store Thursday.”

She wasn’t sure if she left her hand on his chest to convince him or because she couldn’t pull away. The warmth of his skin came right through his shirt. She wanted to lay her head right there and feel the beat of his heart against her temple

“Hey, I did it for me, too.” He folded a hand over hers and held on, no phantom touch this time. This was the real deal. “The Sergeant Major will be hard-pressed to come after me now without making me look like a martyr. The blogger will start a fresh flood of stories to fill the Internet all over again. Did you see all the Tweeting and who knows what other kind of messaging going on as people snapped photos of Trooper at the event today?”

His fingers stroked her palm subtly. Softly.

“I did. But I don’t care how much you say you did it for yourself, you didn’t have to fix broken faucets and fences to impress your boss. You’ve done a lot out of the spotlight, too.” No matter what else had happened between them, she couldn’t deny the truth, that she’d been drawn by more than just his sexy body and handsome face. “Thank you for being a very good man.”

“Perhaps I have other ulterior motives.” His voice hit a lower pitch as he stepped closer.

Her body heated with desire, with memories, with the undeniable attraction between them, an attraction she couldn’t seem to remember why she should deny. Suddenly, walking away tonight wasn’t an option. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. She needed this moment. With Mike.

Decision made, she curled her fingers around his dog tags through the T-shirt. “What other motives do you have?”

His eyes went amber, more gold than brown, and he slid a hand up to cup her face. “Like getting you back into bed again.”

*   *   *

ALL DAY AT
the adoption festival, Mike had watched Sierra, mesmerized by the way she moved so confidently through whatever life tossed her way—from helping a child learn how to hold his new puppy to calmly explaining to an angry couple why the dog they wanted had already been adopted.

She was smart and funny and sexy.