Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(23)

Her hand slid away. “How did you get matched with a service dog?”

He exhaled hard, his body still rigid from wanting her. “One of my teammates has a wife who works with search and rescue dogs. Her name’s Rachel. She had connections to partner me with a service dog. My squadron raised the money to pay for the training and transport. I didn’t know that part until later. I was told the dog was covered by my insurance. I was too drugged up on pain meds to question it. By the time I found out the truth, Radar and I had…gotten close.”

He more than depended on Radar. Their bond was tight.

“Is it okay if I pet him? He’s working, right?”

“As long as I give him permission. Radar, boy, this is Stacy, my friend.” He patted the dog’s rib cage. “Hold out your hand for him to sniff, then you can stroke his ears.”

His dog held still, but Gavin could feel the acceptance flow between them.

She angled back. “What a good boy, and clearly so smart. I would imagine a comfort too, back then.”

“He was, and he is. But I still don’t like charity.” He picked up his sandwich.

“Hmmm.” The sound of her chewing filled the space between them as they slid into old routines, the years melting away. “You figured out a way to pay them back for Radar, didn’t you?”

He stayed silent, biting into his sandwich more for something to do than for food. The spicy mustard filled his taste buds, but he’d eaten worse out in the field on missions.

“Or something else.” She paused, and he heard the rustle of her plucking grapes before she continued, “You sponsored someone else’s dog.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “And if I did do something charitable anonymously and you guess it, then you take away my altruism.”

She laughed softly, so different from the fearful sounds of last night. “You are such an obstinate man.”

“Always have been.”

“I bet that’s what got you through your recovery. That stubborn nature and this great dog. He truly is magnificent.” Her chair scraped back. “He looks like a shepherd in the body, but he has a brindle coat. What breed is he?”

“They tell me he’s a Dutch shepherd mix. Dutch shepherds have brindle-colored fur.” He found himself trusting her, asking her something he hadn’t been able to bring himself to say to anyone else. “Tell me what he looks like.”

She gasped softly, her hand sliding over his. “What do you want to know?”

“People say brindle, and I know what that means, but there are nuances…” He searched for the words to explain how difficult it was to be so close to Radar and have so little idea what he looked like. That sounded…weak. “Ah, hell, never mind.”

She linked their fingers. “His coat’s mostly dark brown, with hints of a lighter brown, and then there are these stripes through that are a caramel that’s almost reddish. The light plays on those stripes of color so they shift and change.” The melody of her voice flowed over him. “His muzzle is black. His ears stand up most of the time, but sometimes one ear flops down.”

That image made him smile, and smiling felt damn good. “They told me he was found in a shelter and tested well. They think he has some Labrador retriever in him, too. I’ve seen working dogs on the job, but I never had any idea how tight the bond could be.”

“I can see that. When you talk, his ears always twitch toward you even if his eyes are fixed on a target or task. They’re golden colored with a dark brown circle outlining the gold. When you’re just sitting and he’s beside you, not working, the look in his eyes is incredible. He stares at you as if he was put on this Earth just for you.”

He swallowed hard. “I get that. Sometimes though, I’m torn between my connection to Radar and resenting the fact that I need him.”

What the hell was it about Stacy that had him sharing so much so fast? It really was as if the years apart had melted away.

“The connection you say you feel to him, trust me, he reciprocates, perhaps even more so.” She took his hand and placed it on Radar’s side. “Can you feel his heart beating? That pulse is focused on you. That’s what I see in his expression. This dog would lay down his life for you. It’s there in his brown eyes. And in case you were wondering, right now, his tail is wagging.”

“I can feel the breeze.”

She slid her hand from his. “I’m so sorry you lost your sight.”

“I’m so sorry you have to live in fear.” Guilt and anger piled up inside him. If he’d fought harder for what they’d had back then, none of this would have happened to her.

Silence settled between them, and he thought he heard her sniffle. He brushed his hand across the table until his fingers bumped her arm. He squeezed lightly in comfort. His arms ached to haul her against his chest as he would have done in the past. How much had changed between them?

He didn’t know how to put that into words, so he settled for the simple start while stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb. “What color is your hair? Has it changed since I knew you before?”

Her pulse leapt under this touch.

Then definitely a sniffle, a soft cough, and swallow of her drink before she said, “A bit darker strawberry blond than before. I still forget to put on sunscreen and let my nose get burned.”