Soul Scars (Dog Haven Sanctuary Romance) (23 page)

“Yeah, but only one comes out to play at any time. Tonight, you choose which one.”

Did she really mean that? And how could he choose? He wanted all of her. The angel, who saw his pain and tried not to take it away from him, but rather stood beside him to help him fight his way through it. And the devil. The part of her that made a bonfire of all the things she knew to be right, and knew to be good for herself—things like his insecurities and unreliability—and lit the match, setting them both free in the blaze.

“Both.” He took hold of one ankle in a firm grip and with his free hand pulled off a sock by the toe. “Let me examine your foot.”

When he had it exposed she wriggled her toes at him. “Hello, Mr. UHT Guy.”

He silenced her with the way he captured her toes. “Ticklish here?”

“Oh, God, what are you doing? Don’t tickle me.”

“I’m intelligence gathering. I’ll add ‘hates being tickled’ to my arsenal. What about the other foot?” He swiftly removed the remaining sock. “Is that ticklish, too?”

“Yeah, and it kicks like a mule with a hornet’s nest under its tail. You’ve been warned.”

He smiled and gave her foot a squeeze and watched the pale indentation in her skin he’d made with his thumb return to that soft pink when he released the pressure. What would she do if he placed his mouth over that spot, tickled it with his tongue and grazed it with his teeth? Would she pull back, or would she sink into the cushions and encourage him to go on? That’s where he wanted to start, at her feet. But maybe Taryn was right when she said his wants were selfish.

He reached down for one sock, discarded alongside the sofa and slipped it onto her foot. “I’d give my heart to stay here with you, but I can’t.” He stood and without another glance at her, thanked her for dinner, and called Calliope to his side.

Chapter 19

A
T THE PARK Lulah waited while the students for her dog training class drifted in. Tonight was the second session of the free six-class course she and Marlo took turns to teach each week for the community. The classes had a double-win effect because better-behaved dogs were less likely to be given up or abandoned. The new entrant filling out the enrollment form was a classic case. Lulah held her dog, Buster, a large, goofy, mix-breed who would most likely become a great companion once he stopped launching himself into the face of every human and animal within reach. The young woman contacted the Sanctuary because the dog drove everyone nuts, and she wanted to surrender or rehome him.

In these situations, whoever took the call at the Sanctuary was schooled in assessing the situation and, if appropriate, encouraging the person wishing to give up the animal to bring it along to one of their community dog-training courses. Frequently, once the human and dog were taught how to communicate, and the dog’s boundaries set, it was possible to get a happily-ever-after situation going on.

Lulah took the completed form and handed over Buster’s leash. “Wait while I have a quick read through your form, and—”
Oh, holy hell, that name.
It couldn’t be. She stole a closer look at the woman who appeared to be about the same age, maybe a little older than Lulah. Long dark hair, cute figure, alert brown eyes that were matching Lulah’s gaze with similar curiosity.

The name on the form said Taryn Marr.

What were the chances there were two women named Taryn Marr in the county? Probably not as great as the likelihood that fate put Vince’s ex-wife in her dog training class. Somewhere there was a funny side to this, and she hoped that once Vince found out he would see that, too.

She dipped back to the form, keeping her eyes on it as she talked. “Let’s see. Buster needs basic life skills training. Is there just the one child at home?”

Taryn told her about Gable and Buster—how, even though they got along well, the dog was a disaster when other people came to the house—but Lulah only half listened. Not because Taryn’s gripe with the dog was a story she’d heard so often that she didn’t need to hear it again. She used the moment to try and work out when, if ever, she should tell Taryn that she knew Vince. In seconds she decided it would be best to tell her, because it was highly likely Mike would finish the service dog training day by bringing them to the park when Lulah’s class neared its end. They had decided it would be a good opportunity to give the vets some practice working around strange dogs in a more ‘real-life’ situation.

Except, now there was Taryn, and the situation seemed likely to be a bit too ‘real-life’ for Vince.

Taryn stopped speaking and Lulah caught her frown. “I’m sorry, I am listening, and I’m checking your form at the same time.”

“I didn’t want a dog in the first place…”

Ah, here we go.
“Don’t tell me—a well-meaning friend thought a puppy exactly what you needed.”

“I have an ex-husband. He’s difficult, and my partner thought I’d be safer with a dog around the house.”

“Safer? You don’t seriously believe Vince would—”

Total crap. There goes the cat, right out of the bag.

Taryn’s expression rocketed from puzzled to pissed. “Excuse me? You know my ex?”

Even though she knew it was inappropriate, Lulah laughed. “It would seem so.”

“And this is funny?”

“No, more awkward, really. Listen, Taryn, I’m not laughing at you, but you have to admit this is pretty weird and kind of funny.” Lulah called to the class, telling them she’d be with them shortly, before she maneuvered Taryn out of earshot of the group. “Vince volunteers at the Dog Sanctuary you phoned to rehome Buster. He and I, we’re friends, okay? And that friendship has no bearing on my ability to help you and Buster come to an agreement about jumping all over guests, stealing food, or chewing Aunt Petunia’s antique rug. So let’s both button our big-girl blouses and have a bit of fun with Buster and the rest of the group.”

Taryn looked wholly unconvinced.

“Come on.” Lulah turned her back and started walking. The trick worked well with animals, to encourage them to follow you, and, as it turned out, with most people too. “And you should bring Gable with you next time, too. Kids are great at learning this stuff.”

“She’s only four.”

“Perfect age.” Lulah was nearly back at the group, and, Taryn only a few steps behind. Now she wrangled the cattle in her head that churned up a disturbing kind of dust storm. She needed that dust to settle and coat the stuff her imagination dished up like Vince and Taryn in love, kissing, marriage.
Where the hell did all that come from?

She started the class by going over what they’d learned the previous week, then spent some time with Taryn, who was not only a week behind but in serious need of assistance. By halfway through the class most in the group were making good progress, and to their credit, Taryn and Buster had almost caught up to what the others were doing. Lulah started to enjoy herself because they were a keen bunch, both the students and the dogs, soaking up everything she could give them. However, tonight it seemed fate was having a riot of a time because, right across the park, Lulah could see Mike working with the service dogs.

And the vets.

And although a substantial amount of park ground separated them, they appeared to be heading her way. She cast her gaze around the group of eight who made up her class. Seven of them were fine, but Taryn’s appearance in the group would cause a lot of grief.

As if at the sly bidding of some devious dog-demon—or maybe because fate hadn’t quite finished her comedy routine—Buster broke free from Taryn and zoned right in on the approaching group. In the following seconds, with the words of warning scarcely formed in Lulah’s mouth, Taryn did what most inexperienced dog owners did. She chased the dog, hollering at him in a manner which said to the dog,
game on.

“Taryn, stop. Don’t shout at him and don’t chase him.”
Treat every disaster as a training opportunity is great advice until you add in the outside influences.
God, she had to give a lesson when what she’d hoped to do was hide Taryn and Buster from sight.

Instructing the rest of the group to concentrate on keeping their dogs in a calm down-stay, she followed Taryn across the park. She tried to make Taryn stop without drawing attention to herself, but shouting in a whisper wasn’t working. By the time they were within fifty yards of the service dog group, Buster circled them, rushing up and doing play-bows, barking, trying out all of his moves to elicit play from the other dogs.

“Taryn, you need to stop.” Lulah repeated herself several times before Taryn finally paused. “I want you to stay still and quiet. In a moment I’m going to whistle to attract Buster’s attention. He should turn towards the sound so when you hear me whistle, start running away. Don’t face him or look at him. Hopefully, Buster won’t be able to stand being not only ignored by you, but the fact that you’re departing, and he’ll chase you.”

Beyond Taryn, Lulah could see four men advancing, three dogs on long leashes and Buster, who slowed a little, puzzled by the lack of response from the other dogs. Lulah let out a shrill, ear-piercing whistle to attract Buster’s attention, and told Taryn to start running. The hell with this being a training opportunity, she had to move Taryn and Buster away from that group of guys as fast and efficiently as she could. The men were slowing down, giving her and Taryn a better chance to catch the loose dog. She tried to summon a whole load of mental telepathy and make Mike move the guys away from her group, around the perimeter of the park, but that wasn’t working. Although their pace slowed, they continued their advance and it wouldn’t be long before they’d be alongside her. She watched them, frozen in place as she searched their faces; Dave and Cody, normal, enjoying the spectacle. Mike, bemused by the gangly, bumptious dog. And Vince, lagging behind, flat and emotionless.

In the distance, she could see that Taryn had caught Buster and rejoined the group.

“That’s some whistle you have there.”

Although Mike moved alongside her, she kept her focus on the group because she had some explaining to do. The other three stopped a few feet away, with Vince still hanging at the back. “Really sorry about that little disturbance—new dog, novice owner. You know how it is.” She addressed Mike but stole a glance towards Vince and could see him scanning the training group, the playground, the cars on the street.
He’s looking for Gable.

Lulah stepped past Mike towards him. “Vince,” she said gently, but he kept up his scanning. “Vince, she’s not here.”

Now he fixed his gaze beyond her, settling on Taryn who had joined the group, watching back. “How long…?”

“Taryn started today, I was going to tell you.”

He pinned her with a look she’d never seen before, his mouth a hard, thin line. “Any more surprises for me? Any other bits of my life you’ve got your hands on behind my back?”

“Fair enough, you’re angry, but can we take this up later?”

“Angry? Betrayed, that’s what I’m feeling, and no, there’s nothing I want to talk about.”

High-pitched excited barking from Buster warned her she needed to return to the class before more chaos ensued. “I have to go. The class is nearly finished, Vince. If you guys are about done, too, why don’t you hang around and we can grab a takeout or something, go and sit down by the wharf.”

“It’ll be dark soon.”

“I don’t mind. Vince, come on, give me a chance to explain.”

He appeared skeptical. “I’ll talk to Mike, and wait back over there.” He indicated to an area by the gardens, far away from where Lulah’s group was training.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. And, Vince, there’s nothing sinister going on.” As he walked off Calliope lingered slightly behind, head lowered, looking at her as if she understood. Dislodging her anthropomorphic thoughts, Lulah made her way back to the group.

Taryn was livid. “You know who that is, don’t you? My ex. Was that a setup?”

“No, Taryn, I believe it all began when Buster escaped. I’m good with the dogs, but not even I can orchestrate that sort of event.” Good grief, Taryn and Vince must have been toxic together. “I’m sorry, that sounded rude.”