After Love (7 page)

“Feed-store wine?” Nick asked.

“Ha-ha,” she said to Nick, then to Jared she added, “The grocery store will do.”

“Gotcha,” Jared said, confirming, and went back inside, letting the screen door slap shut behind him.

Nick tried not to pry, but he couldn't resist adding, “Hot date?”

“Hot date?” She snorted as if the idea were preposterous. “Sure, why not?”

Nick found himself glancing toward the front door. It was clear that Jared either lived in the house or was very familiar with it. Nick had been under the assumption that Jamie lived alone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He was uncomfortable inquiring, but it would bug him until he knew the answer. “Look, I know it's none of my business, but who's Jared?”

Jamie placed the receipt on the table between them and refilled their coffee. She sat back in the chair and cradled the warm mug between her hands before answering. “Why do you ask?” She kept her expression bland, but the twinkle in her eyes told him she was baiting him.

The ball was back in Nick's court, and he'd never been much of a game player. He was trained to put the perp on the defense. It usually worked well on dates too. “Good for you. It's healthy that you're dating again.” Nick smiled. Warmly, he hoped.

Jamie's eyes narrowed as she hesitated. She took another sip of coffee, put down her mug, and picked up the receipt. “What is a migrator duck toy?”

So she was going to play it that way? Nick couldn't help but smile. She was a worthy opponent. “It looks like a dead duck with a squeaker in it, so it'll make noise when he bites down. And no stuffing.”

“A dead duck that squeaks? Really? You need to keep his toys in line with his job. Cocaine doesn't squeak.”

Nick found himself focusing on her full, pink lips. There was a flake of sugar stuck in the corner, and he wanted desperately to lick it off. Of course, that would turn into a passionate kiss. He'd make her forget this Jared and every other guy.

She must have followed the focus of his gaze, and the tip of her tongue reached out to capture the piece of sugar.

Nick shifted uncomfortably, conscious of his body reacting to the unintentional tease. He felt his cock bulging against the zipper of his jeans, and he crossed his legs, one ankle on top of his knee, hoping she wouldn't notice. “So what's first on the agenda today?”

“Let's go over your instructions before we load Harley up and head to town.”

At that moment Jared limped back outside, followed by a three-legged dog. He leaned over and dropped a kiss on top of Jamie's head. “See you later.”

“Be careful. Tell Jose not to speed. One more ticket and he loses his license,” Jamie said.

A young Hispanic man came out of the kennel, and Jared eased his way down the steps with Bobo hopping along behind. They walked to one of the company trucks, got in, and drove off.

Seeing Jared had cooled Nick down. He didn't bother repeating his question even though his curiosity was burning hot.

“You said you have some contraband for today?” Jamie said, continuing as if nothing unusual had happened. Apparently for her it hadn't.

“Yeah, I got one of each flavor.” Nick pulled the package out of his shirt pocket.

Jamie studied the loosies and sniffed them, one by one. “They each smell different. That's good. I'll show you how to do it with one, and then you can do the others at home. The process will be the same.”

“Okay.”

“Harley's command library is simple and few at this point.
Harley, heel
to make him walk next to you…It should be on your left side. Use his first name before the other commands, such as
Harley, come, Harley, sit, Harley, seek
. Got it?”

“Does he shake hands?”

Jamie looked at Nick with some disdain. “He's not a circus dog, Nick. If you want to waste his time by teaching him to shake hands and roll over, that's up to you. But he won't learn that here.”

Nick sensed Jamie didn't appreciate any humanization of Harley. “I thought he was supposed to become part of the family?”

She slid him an amused look. “Do the members of your family roll over on command? I'll bet your reunions are interesting.”

“Actually, none of us ever learned to roll over or play dead.” Nick laughed. “You'll have to come meet my brothers at Grammy's. My hat's off to you if you can teach them anything.”

“I'm much better at training animals than people. Animals listen…and they try to please. People aren't controllable.”

Nick couldn't argue with that. It was a truth he saw every day on the job. Once a dealer, always a dealer.

“You'll need to take Harley with you as often as possible to keep him socialized. He needs to get used to loud noises and big crowds while learning to focus on your commands. His soldier loved him and treated him well, but I doubt he did any kind of formal training. Whenever Harley turns and looks at you and seems confused, it's because he's waiting for his next command. Can you handle that?”

Nick nodded. It didn't sound hard…but it was a hell of a lot to remember.

“Let's head to the arena. I want to see you handle him.”

For not the first time since he'd met her, he felt like he was back in elementary school, where he'd had to show his work on math problems. Of course, his teacher hadn't been nearly as sexy as Jamie or he might have done better in class.

Ralph was working with an Irish setter mix in the arena, so Jamie led the way to the third kennel building.

“What did he do to get exiled to the end?” Nick asked as they passed pen after pen of barking dogs.

“They get placed in whatever pen is empty at the time. But Harley's kind of a loner, so I think he prefers being as far out of the noise as possible.”

Unlike the other dogs, who were clamoring for attention, Harley sat at the front of his pen, his alert eyes missing nothing. When he saw Jamie and Nick approaching, he stood and panted, his long, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“It looks like he's smiling,” Nick commented.

“I think he is,” Jamie agreed. She unclipped a small carabiner from the gate latch. “You'll have to get security locks on your doors if you don't already have them. Harley's kind of a Houdini when it comes to opening gates and handles. Shepherds are masters at that.” She handed Nick the leash that had been hanging by the pen. “Bring him outside.”

Nick held out his hand and let Harley sniff it to refresh his memory. Harley didn't push or try to escape as Nick opened the gate and clipped the leash to his collar. “Good boy.” Nick rubbed Harley's head and scratched his ears. Harley leaned his head into Nick's hand, encouraging him to continue.

“You've made a friend for life,” Jamie said with a chuckle.

“Harley, heel,” Nick commanded, and Harley immediately responded, moving to the man's left side. Nick started walking, and Harley kept pace at the proper position. “He's doing pretty well, isn't he?” Nick was pleased with his progress.

But Jamie shook her head. “Harley's doing great. However, you're holding the leash wrong. It should be in your right hand and crossed in front of you. And keep it loose. Relax your arm.”

“Really?” Nick fumbled with the leash, changing it to his other hand and trying not to get tangled up in it. Harley waited patiently, his lips spread. If he had been smiling before, he was laughing now. “Sooner or later, you're going to do something to make her scold you too,” Nick told Harley in a loud whisper.

“Let's try it again,” Jamie said, trying to be serious, but the laughter in her eyes gave her away.

Nick circled the yard with Harley close to his hip. The dog obeyed quickly commands to sit and stay.

“Sometimes you're going to need him to stand at your other side,” Jamie told Nick. “Just pat your hip and say, ‘Harley, right here.' He probably doesn't know that command, so you'll have to work with him on both sides.”

Nick tried it, and Harley gave him a curious look but didn't obey until Nick tugged on his leash and positioned him. After only a couple demonstrations, Harley picked it up, then looked up at Nick as if to say
That was fun. What's next?

They kept practicing for an hour until Jamie could find no fault with either of them, then she showed Nick how to train Harley to find loosies. They worked on that for another hour until Nick collapsed on a wooden bench under an ancient live oak tree, and Harley plopped down at Nick's feet on the cool grass. “Were you ever in the military?”

Jamie seemed surprised by the question. “No, why?”

“You'd make a great drill sergeant.”

“Ha! I'm going easy on you today.”

Nick groaned and slumped back until his head rested against the tree's rough bark.

“But now I think you've earned a reward. Let's go into town for lunch…my treat.”

Nick jumped to his feet before she could change her mind and make him walk that damn circle ten more times. “Let's go. But lunch goes on my expense account. This is definitely work related.” He picked up Harley's leash. “We'll take my truck. Harley might as well get used to it. He's going to be spending a lot of time in there.”

They walked together to his truck and Nick led Harley around it, giving the dog time to check it out. Nick opened the back door to the crew cab area and was about to encourage Harley to jump in when Jamie stopped him.

“Don't let him jump in and out on his own schedule. You should always be in control.”

“Harley, sit,” Nick said and made eye contact with the dog. Harley's butt dropped to the ground. “Good boy. Harley, up.” Nick moved aside to offer a clear path into the back and tugged on the leash. The truck was a four-wheel drive and had high ground clearance, but Harley made it onto the backseat in two big leaps, using the running board as a step. Nick rewarded the dog with an affectionate pat and another
Good boy.
He would have hurried around and opened the passenger-side door for Jamie, but she was already in by the time he got Harley loaded. She was busy trying to make space for her feet among the layers of fast-food wrappers and wadded-up pieces of scrap paper.

Nick hurried around and started stuffing everything into an old paper bag. “Sorry about that. I kind of live out of my car.”

“And you obviously never drive past a garbage can,” she commented wryly.

He tossed the bag in the back, climbed in, and started the engine. “Where to?”

“Broken Spoke has open-face roast beef sandwiches on sale today,” Jamie answered. “Just head downtown. You can't miss it.”

The drive to Broken Spoke was less than five miles farther down Highway 290. There was a big sign in front that consisted of a ten-foot-diameter wagon wheel and an extremely tall cowboy leaning against it. It was, indeed, impossible to miss.

It was just past noon, and the gravel parking lot was crowded with crew-cab trucks similar to Nick's, a few horse trailers, and several older vehicles. This was clearly a hangout for locals rather than a tourist spot.

“The spokes in the wheel rotate around at night except for the broken one,” Jamie told him as they turned in. “The cowboy's boots move in time with the honky-tonk music playing in the parking lot.”

Nick pushed the lever into park and extracted the keys. “Bet the neighbors love that.”

“It's only on Fridays and Saturdays and everyone is here, so there's no one home to bother.” She opened her door and hopped out before Nick was even out of the truck. A little frustrated with her insistence on taking care of everything herself, Nick had slammed his door and started toward the restaurant when Jamie called out, “What about Harley?”

Nick slid to a stop, pivoted, and headed back to the truck. “Right.” He unlocked the vehicle and opened the back door slowly. Harley crowded the doorway, ready to jump down, but Nick ordered, “Harley, sit.”

The dog obeyed, a little reluctantly. Nick smiled when he saw the movement of Harley's tail as it swung rapidly side to side in anticipation of getting out of the truck. He was clearly excited about the field trip, but he didn't hop down until Nick told him to. Man and dog joined Jamie, and they entered the restaurant. Harley lifted his nose and sniffed the air with interest.

“He likes the food here?” Nick asked.

“Harley's never been here before, but he must sense that they're dog friendly. They give their canine customers a dog biscuit and a bowl of water. Look for places like this….They're all over Austin.”

Nick smiled, then tried to remember if the Jackalope or any of his personal watering holes were dog friendly.

Jamie was perceptive. “You don't go to those kinds of places, do you?” She laughed. “I'd like to have a drone follow you around for the first month to see all the adjustments to your lifestyle.”

“Hi, Jamie,” greeted the middle-aged hostess in tight jeans, a ruffled blouse, and high boots. “Who's this guy?”

“This is Harley.” Jamie smiled.

The hostess reached out to shake Nick's hand. “Hello, Harley. Welcome to the Broken Spoke.”

Nick grimaced. “I'm Nick.” He glanced down at his dog. “This is Harley.”

The hostess laughed off the mix-up. “I thought
Harley
was an interesting name.”

“Sorry about that,” Jamie apologized. “I'm used to coming here with dogs, not men.”

The woman's brass name tag read
CASEY
. “Bet you don't live around here, do you?” she asked Nick.

“You win. I don't. I live in Austin, but my grandmother lives nearby.”

“I probably know her. What's her name?”

“Susan Archer,” Nick said.

“Oh, you mean Grammy? She comes in here and sits in with the band sometimes,” Casey said with enthusiasm. “She's amazing. And so funny.”