Shelter Me (23 page)

Thinking about families made him itchy with memories of his own. Not that he let them dictate his decisions. Still, even from across the country, his mom made a regular practice of sending clients his way—females who were connected to friends of friends. All the women were single and in their twenties.

Those new clients always guaranteed a follow-up call from his mom mentioning how much she wanted grandchildren. She was quick to remind him that his two border collies didn’t count.

He pulled his attention back to Lacey’s words rather than just watching the way her lips moved.

“Everyone at home is independent.” She sighed, her head falling to the side, her hair swinging to brush his arm. “Well, other than my father-in-law, but there are plenty of people to watch over him. And my new boarder is a great cook. He’s grilling burgers. Want to join us?”

She looked as stunned by her offer as he felt. She straightened, her hair sliding away. There were a thousand reasons he should say no. Starting with how his hand still felt the skim of her hair. And how he was too aware of the strand of her hair that clung to his lab coat. How he was afraid she’d recognized the undercurrent between them and only wanted a private place to tell him he had no right to feel that way about her.

The list went on and on.

Yet, all of those arguments were overridden by one compelling reason that trumped everything else. He wanted to be with her.

“Do you mind if I bring my dogs?”

She laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Like I would even notice two more at my place.”

“Okay then. Once I settle Opie at my clinic . . . a burger sounds great. I can even check Trooper’s post-surgery recovery.”

“I have to warn you.” Her hand cupped Pixie’s head. “My home is even more of a zoo than last time you were there.”

“Then I’ll be careful to guard my hamburger.”

*   *   *

DID YOU KNOW
that a male dog still has testosterone zinging through his system for days, sometimes even weeks after being neutered? Well, he does.

Or rather,
I
did during that first picnic at the McDaniel’s place.

I might have looked all mellow and drugged up lounging under a tree while people burned meat on a fire, but the air was full of more than smoke. There were hormones in the air.

The mating kind.

Apparently these people had to be well fed first since they were grilling so much food. Although I still don’t understand why humans take perfectly good meat and cook all the juices out of it. Seriously. Not that I could afford to be picky, especially then. I was all about keeping the peace since Lacey took me to get
the surgery
.

At least they weren’t making me wear that stupid cone anymore.

But I could still smell sex in the air. And I could smell it everywhere. People were getting it or wanting it, and it was driving me crazy, because I still had that testosterone in me, urging me to
mate, mate, mate. Make lots of little puppies with the bitch in heat about three miles away.

Yes, a dog can smell that far. Human males would be jealous if they knew about my superpower. Except I couldn’t do much about it since I still wasn’t feeling up to running a marathon. If you catch my meaning.

Don’t feel sorry for me, though. There were serious perks to my new home. Major perks. Things that would make me want to stay with these people forever even if I didn’t have a mission.

For starters, there was all that food, no more going hungry. And I got to sleep in Gramps’s den. His bedroom, I mean. Sometimes the human words and dog words for things are a little different. Like how what you call a den, I would call a family room or a living room or a sofa room.

I learned fast about comfy sofas and how stingy humans could be about sharing them.

Anyway, in Gramps’s room, I slept on the floor by his bed or under his bed. I wasn’t feeling ready to jump yet, and it was high off the ground with four tall wooden posts. But I had my eyes on a corner of that mattress, near the end where there was a fat blanket folded at the bottom. It looked really soft and as tempting as a hamburger.

When I lived in Iraq, I slept on the ground or underneath whatever box or house I could find, curled up and hungry. Being out in the open was bad. Real bad. Downright dangerous. They didn’t have shelters for stray dogs or abandoned animals in my old home country. If packs got too close to people or cities, police came out with big guns to pick us off one at a time until we either ran or died. Even when I stayed with the Colonel I almost got shot more than once when I barked to alert them those guns were coming for them. But it was worth the fear and the risk to help the man who’d saved me.

Here, it was safer to be a dog. It was a good thing I spent those months at the Army post getting used to people or I would have been too scared to appreciate how good I had it with my new family.

But I’m getting distracted again. That happens sometimes, like when I see a bird or smell a hamburger.

I really like hamburgers, just as good as steaks but easier to chew. Even when they’re burned.

Which brings me back to what I wanted to talk about. Even in my pained, recuperative state, I had enough testosterone in me to know, the picnic was full of people on fire to have sex with each other.

PART 3

Chewing the crotch out of panties and blue jeans in the laundry is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Almost as good as stealing a hamburger.

—TROOPER, AT A FAMILY PICNIC

Twelve

M
IKE HADN’T EXPECTED
to ever have Sierra in his bed again, and now all he could think of was getting her back there.

This Sunday picnic had been torture, and it wasn’t showing signs of letting up as the sun set. All day, he’d been mesmerized by Sierra. God, she rocked those red cowboy boots with a loose cotton dress that brushed her curves when she walked past a couple of volunteers on a blanket finishing burgers. He’d been plagued by images of kissing every little flower on that pattern—and there were lots of flowers. Then sweeping the dress over her head and making love to her while she wore just the boots.

She stopped beside her grandpa, who was parked in an Adirondack chair, the horizon behind him turning purple in the wake of the disappearing sun. Sierra knelt in front of him, passing him a brownie and a glass of tea while they spoke.

Oh-kay. Sex thoughts seemed creepy now, like her grandfather might sense it even through his Alzheimer’s and come gunning for him.

Mike reined in his thoughts—again. Besides, much more boot fantasizing and he wouldn’t be able to get up from the picnic table without embarrassing himself. He gave himself a moment to will away the erection by taking in the crowd, a larger group than they’d originally expected. When a handful of volunteers lingered to socialize after cleaning runs and exercising the dogs, Sierra had taken it in stride, just defrosting extra burgers and tossing out a couple of bags of chips. Then Lacey had shown up with the veterinarian. That had been a surprise. Mike hadn’t given much thought to the fact that the guy hung out at their booth at the adoption event. But to see him here today, at the McDaniels’ home? That was . . . surreal.

Surreal?
Shit. He really had been working too many crossword puzzles to up his vocab game.

His eyes zeroed right back in on Sierra gathering up her grandfather’s dinner plate while he ate the dessert. Nathan was technically on Gramps guard duty, lounging in a nearby hammock with a video game in his hands, one leg off the side, foot dragging the ground, then nudging again. The hammock swayed slowly, strung between two fat oaks. Trooper slept underneath in a mulch bed surrounded by solar lights that were just starting to pop on.

Sierra smiled at something her grandfather said, but strains of tension showed in the corners of her eyes. She patted him on the shoulder before tossing away the paper plate and walking back to Mike.

Sighing the whole way down, she sat next him on the picnic bench, her back against the table, her legs stretched out and those boots within taunting reach. “This was
not
a day of rest. I’m actually looking forward to escaping to my computer to do homework.”

He forgot sometimes she held down a full load of classes as well as working a graduate assistantship teaching. Her dad had been so proud of her. The Colonel would be worried as hell if he saw his family now, overworked and overstressed.

And what would the Colonel think of Lacey and Doc Vega? Lacey walked around the perimeter of the picnic, lighting a few old tiki torches that had been jammed into the ground, but the vet’s eyes followed her. Mike wasn’t passing judgment, but the expression on the guy’s face spelled trouble any way you looked at it. Mike didn’t envy the doc caring about someone who wasn’t in a position to reciprocate. He understood what that felt like just a little too damn well.

Unfortunately, doing what was best for Sierra had proven impossible since he had zero chance of staying away from her.

He dipped his head to her ear, her citrus scent easing darker thoughts. “Are you all right?”

“Other than the fact that my grandfather just called me by my grandmother’s name again? I’m good. A little preoccupied. It’s been a long day.” She touched his elbow lightly, careful not to be overt. No doubt she didn’t want anyone to notice the shift in their relationship. “I’ll be glad when we can both just slip away and be together.”

Uh, yeah. He agreed ten thousand percent. The three people across the table from him got up to toss their trash and walked to the bonfire just beginning to crackle to life.

Leaving Mike and Sierra completely alone.

He said softly, careful not to be overheard, “Does your mom know what happened between us last night?”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “Why does that matter? We’ve already decided we’re not announcing anything to the world. I’m fine with leaving things as they are for now.”

Then why was she upset? “What’s wrong?”

She nodded toward her mother walking out of the barn with Ray Vega at her side. “My mom brought a guy to dinner, a much younger guy. It’s . . . weird.”

“She didn’t bring a date to dinner. She brought the vet who takes care of her animals to thank him for all the discounts.” Another thought hit him. “Or maybe she brought a guy for you.”

“For me? You’re crazy. I’ve known Ray for over a year and there’s never been the least spark between us. If Mom wanted to matchmake with him, she would have said something before now.”

“Not necessarily. If she’s worried about you ending up with me, she might be trying to steer you in a different direction.” Maybe he’d just imagined the guy had been checking out Lacey. What did Mike know about stuff like that?

Besides, the idea of someone else thinking about Sierra that way took hold in his mind and . . . wouldn’t let go. Especially not after he’d spent the whole day imagining bringing her back to his place. Possessiveness fired with a fierceness he hadn’t anticipated.

“That doesn’t make sense.” She fidgeted with her side braid moving and tempting him to tug it—or unravel it. “She likes you. She invited you to move in here.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants her daughter marrying some Army grunt, especially after she recently lost her uniform-wearing husband.” And just that fast the past started butting in again.

“My mother isn’t trying to matchmake.” Her chin went stubborn, and there was no budging her when that happened. “She’s attracted to this guy and it’s freaking me out.”

So it wasn’t the younger guy issue. It was
any
guy with her mom. Period. Right or wrong, at least Mike didn’t need to worry about some other dude hitting on Sierra. He shook his head and hoped he could shake off the caveman feeling. Damn.

“She hasn’t given any reason to indicate he’s more than a friend. But someday she very well could bring a man here, date again. She’s a young, attractive woman.”

“Now
you
are creeping me out a little bit,” she half joked, lifting an eyebrow.

“You know full well which McDaniel female has my full attention.” He let his eyes linger on her mouth before continuing on a more somber note, “I promised your father I would look after you all, and I will.”

“We shouldn’t be your obligation.” She fanned a bug away from her nose.

“You know you’re far from that.”

“Still, your sense of responsibility makes things very messy since we’re having sex.” She turned on him, her expression serious.

No games.

“I hear you. I understand.” He might like their time together when they laughed and fooled around and he made up goofy lyrics for her. But he respected this side of her. “And I am staying, whether we continue to sleep together or not.”