Authors: T. J. Kline
He arched a brow and she knew he didn't believe her. “Julia, just sit for a minute.”
“I'm fine. How . . . ” She gave him a sideways glance. “How do you know about Evan?”
“Look up and follow my finger.” He bent over and looked into her eyes, his gaze straying over the scar at her temple. He tipped her chin up with a finger, assessing her. “He was here this morning, and I'm afraid I may have caused you some trouble.” He squatted down at her knees and reached for her wrist, his fingers checking her pulse.
Julia felt her skin ignite wherever his hands touched. Shivers of heat traveled over her flesh, warming her. She was certain he would think she was ill because her heart felt as if it was going to race right out of her chest. His thumb brushed her wrist, and she found herself wanting to lean into him, to lay her head against his massive chest and just shut out the world for a moment.
“I think you're going to live.” Dylan's voice was husky as he looked at her, his deep chocolate eyes even darker than usual. “But you still look pale. Does this have anything to do with this Evan guy?”
She moved her hand away from his fingers. Her decision to keep quiet didn't matter now, especially if Evan had been audacious enough to ignore the court order and show up on her doorstep. “He isn't supposed to be here. I have a restraining order against him.” She tipped her head to the side and brushed her hair back from her face. “You said you caused trouble? What happened?”
Dylan slapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. “I might have put him into a headlock.” She looked up at him in awe. “And slammed him into his truck. He said something about an attorney.” Her mouth fell open as he wiped a hand over his mouth. “I don't know what happened. I just . . . I snapped.”
“What about Roscoe? He's supposed to . . . ” She couldn't blame the dog. He and Dylan had only begun bonding and, until then, he couldn't be expected to react to Dylan's triggers as he eventually would. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” A snort of laughter burst from him. “I tell you this guy is threatening to sue you because I couldn't control my temper, and you want to know if I'm okay?”
“Evan Reece won't do anything.” She prayed she was right, but Evan knew what he was doing. She couldn't prove he'd been there. “He just got out of jail, and showing up here is a violation of his probation. He's not going to say a word to anyone.” She was surprised her voice remained calm, but, looking at her hands, it was apparent she couldn't keep the tremors of fear from rippling through her body. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in an attempt to hide the reaction from Dylan. “I'm sorry. I should have told you about him, but I haven't heard from him since he went to jail. Until today.”
“Who is this guy?”
She sighed, wondering how much she should tell him. She didn't want to risk his welfare and recovery. She hadn't expected Evan to ever show up again. She rested her chin on her knees and considered telling him it was best if he left, but even the thought flooded her with disappointment she didn't want to acknowledge.
“He was a client who stayed here while we trained a dog for him. When he was supposed to leave, he started acting strangely.” She tried to stop the shiver of fear that crept over her, and she wanted to hide from what had happened. It might have been four years ago, but retelling it brought it back as if it was yesterday. “His dog, Misty, started sticking closer to me, trying to protect me, ignoring her training. I think she was trying to tell me something. When I insisted he leave, he attacked me.”
“Attacked? He hurt you?” She saw the fury rise in his eyes.
Tango positioned himself between her and Dylan, sitting up and putting his head on her arm as if reminding her of his comforting presence. “It wasn't long after I was out of the hospital that I got Tango.”
Dylan took a deep breath, squatted down in front of her again, and reached for her hands. His fingers twined with hers. His hands were warm and gentle, but she felt a current of warmth flood through her palms and up her arms. She tried to focus on anything other than the heat spreading through her limbs.
“A client?”
She looked away, unwilling to admit the feelings she'd had for Evan. It had been a whirlwind romance, and she'd believed everything he told her about himself. It wasn't until he started pressuring her, saying strange things about always being with her, of owning her, that she started to question the relationship. When she woke and found him staring at her while she slept, she should have listened to the alarm in her head warning her that love wasn't supposed to be obsessive like this. How could she explain away her naiveté? Dylan didn't press her for more.
“Now he's out and looking for you?”
Dylan's question jerked her back to her present predicament. Evan
was
back. “I guess so. He texted me this morning, but I thought he was just trying to mess with my head. I never meant for you to get involved in this. You have enough to deal with right now, and this is just making things worse.”
Dylan's lips curved in a lopsided grin, and he shook his head. “Are you for real? You find out some maniac is stalking you and you're worried about me?” Tango pressed his nose into Dylan's ear, and he couldn't help but laugh as he pushed him away. “I think he's telling me to keep my distance.”
“If he was doing that, you'd see teeth.” She returned Dylan's smile as she reached out to pet the dog's velvety head. “What do you think about grabbing a quick breakfast and getting started on training early?”
“Training,” he repeated. His eyes focused on her mouth, and she felt her heart take another leap. She had to get control of this. He was a client, and she didn't fall for them nowâever. She'd learned that lesson the hard way. “How about if you fix breakfast and I'll clean up this coffee?”
She'd forgotten about the mess on the porch. “Sure. And depending on how the two of you do, I have an idea for this afternoon.” She rose from the seat, and Tango jumped to his feet as she headed for the front door. She forced herself to focus on putting some distance between them.
“I hope it includes calling the police.” His voice was somber, not allowing for any argument. When she didn't answer, his brows pinched together. “If you don't, I will.”
His expression was dark and she could see the dangerous soldier he'd once been, but he didn't frighten her and she wasn't about to be bullied into anything. It didn't work when her brother tried it, and it wouldn't work for Dylan either.
“Go ahead, and be sure to let them know how you assaulted him as well.” She let the door slap shut behind her before he could reply.
T
RAINING
R
OSCOE WASN
'
T
what Dylan expected. Maybe it was because his mind equated
training
with his military service. Julia's version was relaxing and, dare he admit it, fun. As he and Roscoe walked around an obstacle course, as he directed the dog through various maneuvers the way Julia instructed, Dylan found himself enjoying each successful maneuver Roscoe completed. Until today, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to enjoy himself. Even smiling felt awkward, although it was surprising how quickly he was getting used to doing it again since arriving. Being with Julia was easy. She might be brutally honest, but she didn't push him for things he couldn't give. She still hadn't asked about his injuries or pressured him to talk about what happened to get him here. Being with her made him think he might be able to let go of the nightmare that seemed to haunt his waking moments.
“That's exactly right,” she said as he navigated Roscoe through a tunnel. “See how he's looking at you when he finishes? Don't forget to praise him.”
Dylan didn't need to be reminded. The dog was quickly breaking down the arguments he'd used against getting a service dog. In the two days he'd been at the facility, he'd already spent more time focused on something other than his PTSD than he had since returning from overseas. There was no amount of praise he could give Roscoe that would show how appreciative he was for that small accomplishment. Dylan reached down and rubbed the dog's golden head as Julia approached with a broad smile on her lips.
Just a glimmer of that smile made him want to return it. Gage was wrong. She wasn't beautiful. She was angelic. Her long, dark blonde waves swung over her shoulders, and her bangs fell into her brown eyes again. Dylan stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from running his hands through those silken tresses. It had been a long time since he'd noticed a woman, let alone wanted to touch one, but, like the dog, Julia was quickly, almost magically, chipping away at the wall his accident had erected around him.
Chipping?
She was breaking it down so quickly, she might as well be using a sledgehammer. He had to do something, anything, that kept him from thinking about that smile that was making his pulse pound against his ribs.
“What now?”
She laughed at him. “I think we need to give Roscoe a break. You two have been at it for almost two hours.”
Dylan glanced at his watch. He'd been enjoying himself so much that he hadn't realized so much time had passed. He wondered when Gage was coming and hoped it wasn't soon. The feeling surprised him. Not only because his brother had been the one constant in his life, but because he knew he didn't want to compete for Julia's attention. As much as he knew it was wrong of him, he wanted to get to know her better.
“Come on, I have an idea.”
She led the way back to the house and dropped the tailgate of her truck before calling Tango to her side. The dog came bounding through the dog door at the back of the house and skidded to a halt at her legs. She patted the back of the truck and he leapt inside.
“Are we going somewhere?”
“You'll see.” She let Roscoe in the cab of the truck and slid behind the driver's seat. Dylan paused with a hand on the door, curious about what she had planned but hesitant to put himself into a situation that might trigger an episode. “You coming?”
He climbed into the truck and looked around curiously as she drove to a gate partway down the driveway. He hadn't noticed it when he'd arrived, but he hadn't been paying much attention to anything but his desire to go home. She drove over well-worn ruts in the open field as he watched her. She was a bit of an enigma.
She was quick to smile, stubborn, but confident enough to stand up to him. There was a softness about her, a tenderness he'd rarely seen in the people who surrounded him. She was optimistic yet, by her own account, she'd seen the worst the world had to offer. He was drawn to her, like a magnet.
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” She turned her face toward him, and he could see the playful gleam in her eyes.
“Do I look like the kind of guy to ride a horse?” His hand settled on the back of Roscoe's head, scratching his neck absently.
“You never had a pony ride as a kid?”
“I didn't exactly have a model childhood,” he reminded her.
“Then it's about time. My sister has some great horses. She runs a horse rescue, but a lot of her horses end up being used for therapy.”
His lips quirked to one side. “You've already convinced me to take a dog home. Now you want to talk me into a horse?”
She laughed and the sweet sound fell around him like music. He found himself joining her, and it stunned him. Roscoe looked up at each of them before laying his head back into Dylan's lap.
“No, I just thought it might be relaxing for you to go for a ride and for Roscoe to get out and run.”
“And so that he'll know how to react when I get injured?” Her head swiveled toward him, ready to deny the assumption until she saw the grin on his face. It felt good to laugh and joke with someone, to have someone treat him as if he was normal. As much as Gage had given him since his return, normalcy hadn't been a part of that life. He could see the shadows in Gage's eyes when he looked at Dylan, waiting for him to snap or to fall apart. With Julia, he was just a manâcompetent and confidentâwithout pressure to be more than he could be.
“I might have to make you pay for that,” she warned as she pulled the truck to a stop in front of a barn. She got out and let Tango jump from the back of the truck.
In a nearby pen, he saw a woman working with a horse, but his eyes focused on the man who came out of the house. “Julia!”
He trotted down the porch steps and met them at the barn, enveloping her in a bear hug.
“Dylan, meet my future brother-in-law, Nathan Kerrington.”
Dylan stuck out his hand and gave the man a firm shake.
“In the corral over there is my sister, Jessie.”
“What brings you this way? I assumed you'd be too busy to come visit this week.” Dylan didn't miss the way Nathan eyed him, as if he was sizing him up.
“These two are doing so well, I thought we'd take a ride to The Ridge.”
Nathan's brows shot up on his forehead. “Are you sure about that?”
She ran a hand over his arm. “I am. Why don't you two talk while I saddle up Grady and Bella?”
Dylan watched as Julia disappeared into the barn with Tango on her heels. At her departure, he felt suddenly cold, as if the sun had disappeared behind a cloud. She brought vibrancy and life wherever she went.
“Just so we're on the same page, Julia's like a little sister to me and I will protect her like family.”
Dylan met Nathan's eyes and saw the honest threat there. The man had no idea what Dylan had done for a living, but he wasn't even hesitating. From the looks of him, he was fit but he was no match for Dylan's size.
“I completely understand.” He arched a brow at the man but gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement.
Nathan let a slow smile spread to his lips, as if he knew something Dylan didn't. “Keep in mind, I wouldn't need to raise a hand. Her older brother is six-four and wrestles with steers for a living.”
Dylan cocked his head to the side, finding himself gaining a little more respect for the man. “Duly noted.”
Nathan laughed and reached down to pet the dog. “So, you're going to end up with Roscoe, huh?”
“Looks that way.” The dog looked up at him longingly, so he reached down and petted him.
“You won't be sorry. Julia knows what she's doing.” He looked toward the barn. “And she understands how the dogs help with trauma.”
“She told you about my case?” Dylan was surprised she would say anything.
Nathan's eyes shot back to Dylan. “No. I meant her.”
“S
O YOU GREW
up here?”
Julia followed Dylan's gaze as he looked off The Ridge at the river below. The water would be fairly low until the fall rains came, but it was still swiftly coursing over the rocks and brush, enough to make a quaint picture. “Yep, until I went to college and built the house at the other end of the property.”
She moved back from the edge of the cliff and sat on one of the logs near the fire pit. Her parents had set them up for campers when the ranch had taken in guests. These days, the only time it saw any use was when her sister held retreats for troubled teens.
Dylan turned his back to the view and walked toward her, scanning the trees around them. Roscoe nudged his arm and he rubbed a hand over the dog's head, but remained focused on her. Pride swelled in her a bit more than she wanted to admit. She was pleased with the way the two of them were bonding so far. Roscoe was hard not to love, but she was surprised Dylan had opened himself up to the dog so quickly after denying he wanted or needed one yesterday.
“How'd your sister end up with the property?” He moved closer to her but remained standing, his hands in his pockets again.
“My brother, Justin, and I both went to college, but Jessie stayed at home with Mom and Dad to help run the dude ranch. When we finished, our parents gave Justin and me part of the property to build our businesses. After they were killed in a car accident last year, it made sense for her to stay.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“I appreciate that. It's been tough the last two years between the trial and then losing Mom and Dad.” Tango looked up, ready to comfort her.
She could see the curiosity in Dylan's eyes. He wanted to know what had happened but wasn't sure whether he should ask. It wasn't something she liked to talk about, but she knew that sharing some of it with Dylan would make it more likely for him to do the same. And he needed to talk about what happened. If for no other reason than to see how Roscoe could ground him during an episode.
“You don't have to talk about it, Julia.” He stopped her as she opened her mouth to speak. “Some things don't have to be spoken to be shared.”
Dylan sat down beside her on the log, opposite the dog, and reached for her hand. His large palm engulfed hers as he wound his fingers through hers. It was sweet and comforting. She knew it wasn't meant to send a bolt of longing to her heart, but it did. It had been so long since she'd had anyone other than her family care about her welfare.
After Evan, she'd hidden away with her dogs, letting others see only the cheerful window dressing she put on to hide the fear. She couldn't let herself go again, couldn't let herself get close to anyone, because falling meant getting hurt. Jessie knew the truth, as did her brother and cousin, Bailey. They had seen the physical scars she bore from Evan's brutal attack, but no one realized what Evan had truly done to her. They didn't see the scars inside, the wounds that still festered because she hadn't seen the truth before Misty had been killed. Now she second-guessed herself, always doubting her instinct to believe in others. She'd fallen for a client, and he'd forever tarnished her ability to trust, to love.
They sat for what felt like an eternity in silence, holding hands. His thumb caressed the pad of hers. Roscoe had lain down at his feet and gone to sleep as they watched the trees rustling in the breeze. Only the occasional twitter of birds and chatter of squirrels could be heard. Dylan sighed and she turned to look at him.
“This place is amazing. Normally, I'd be worried about the trees, but right now I'm not.” He sounded awed but relaxed.
“How long has it been since you got home?”
“A little over a year.” He touched the side of his temple, and she could see the scar, just above where his tattoo began. “This is what actually sent me home. I took a bullet to the head while trying to carry another soldier to safety. It glanced off and just left me this awesome scar.”
She gave him a shy smile. “Chicks dig scars, right?”
Dylan's brows dropped into a frown, and she immediately regretted her words, until he chuckled quietly. “I guess there's always a silver lining, right?”
“What made you want to join up in the first place?” She knew she was pushing her luck trying to get him to talk about his past, but as long as he was providing answers and seemed comfortable with the conversation, she'd listen.
His thumb traced a pattern over her wrist, sending tingles of pleasure shooting up her arm. Her chest constricted and she knew she should pull away, but she couldn't force her body to cooperate with her brain. He looked at her for a moment, then down at Roscoe.
“It was the only way I could support my mom and brother. After my dad ran off, it was up to me. In high school, I held odd jobs whenever I could manage them while Mom worked three of her own. As soon as I graduated, I knew there was no way I could support them and afford to go to college. So I enlisted and scored really high. Before I knew it, I was training for special ops and working as a medic.”
“Why a medic?” His reaction to her on the porch made sense now. He'd immediately fallen back on his training.
“I like saving people, reading their needs. I was good at it.” He met her gaze and his eyes were soft, almost liquid. “Like you.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
Dylan laughed and released her hand. She couldn't help the disappointment that slammed into her chest at the loss of his touch, shocking her with the intensity. He was dangerous to her senses and her heart, and she vowed to keep more distance between them.
Until his fingers brushed her bangs back from her eyes and settled at the curve of her jaw. Her heart pounded against her ribs, ready to burst from her chest.
“Yes, you.”
Heat crept into his eyes, and she wanted to look away from the scalding hunger she saw there. She knew it had to be reflected in her own. Every cell in her body was begging her to lean forward, to press her lips to his, but her fear was louder and more fervent than her yearning. His fingers trailed over the side of her neck, and sparks flared in parts of her body she'd long ignored.