Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(29)

“What’s the big deal?” Gabe held the bone over the dogs’ heads. “Let her sleep when she’s tired. Give her meds when she’s awake. There. Problem solved.”


“That’s not good enough, and you know it. We need to discuss the guns you’re carrying, too. And the boot trays. I know you’ve seen them. Why don’t you use them?”

He would’ve answered if he’d wanted to, but belligerence never motivated him and Sullivan seemed to think she was in charge. He tossed the bone for another round of fetch.

“Will you stop horsing around and listen to me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe got to his feet, rolled the pain out of his neck that was quickly moving down his spine to his butt and faced the agitated nurse. The chain of command that, at least in her mind made her top dog, had worn thin.

“Good. That’s better.” She smoothed her hands down her pant legs, as if wiping away something repulsive. Must’ve been those dog germs she’d picked up when she’d smacked Whisper’s poor snout. “Now, as I was saying, it’s important that we stick to a tight schedule and—”

“Woof!” Smoke slapped the ground, still ready to play.

Gabe tried to look interested in Sullivan, but her tone sparked his trouble-making side, and what the hell? Both dogs wanted to play. He twitched the rubber toy back and forth like a metronome, then a little faster. Two pairs of bright black eyes followed intently.

Tick. Tock. The game was back on.

“As I was saying—”

“Woof! Woof!”

“Stop interrupting me,” Nurse Sullivan scolded Smoke. She took a quick couple of steps forward and snatched the toy out of Gabe’s hand. She really should’ve tossed it to the other end of the yard, but she didn’t. Instead, she stomped her foot and spiked it into the ground like a linebacker making a touchdown, or—like she wanted to play after all.

The dogs sure did. Both launched themselves to retrieve their prize. They roared over her and knocked her flat to her butt. She hit the still damp morning lawn with a breathy, “Oh, my!”

In less time than it took to say fetch, she found herself surrounded by eight canine legs, two slap-happy tails and all those terrible germs. Her glasses ended up perched over her lip.

“Dogs!” Gabe extended his hand to rescue Kelsey’s hapless nurse as a black tail swept across her face and brushed over her lips, not once but three times before she finally shut her mouth and grabbed her glasses.

Smoke accidentally stepped onto her lap with one big hind foot, wrestling with Whisper who by now had the trophy raised high.

Sullivan spit and sputtered, wiping her lips with the back of one hand, the other stuck in the ground behind her.

“Dogs. Off,” Gabe ordered more firmly.

Both pranced away, but Whisper looked a lot happier than Sullivan. He had the bone.

She clutched Gabe’s forearm, tucking her butt as if they might take a bite out of it when she lifted off the grass. She pressed against him, keeping him between her and the dogs.

Silly girl.

She shouldn’t have done that, either. It had been a long time since he’d felt a woman’s body close enough to feel the warmth of her breasts and thighs at the same time. A wave of prickly awareness washed through him, filling him with heat—and something else he didn’t expect. Not from her.

“They won’t hurt you,” he explained, his voice suddenly hoarse and gravelly, damn it. “They thought you wanted to play. That’s all.” He stifled the compulsion to wrap a protective arm around her. She might bite it off.

“I don’t like them. They’re dirty.” She peered around him, breathing hard. She had a death-grip on his bicep, her glasses folded in her other hand.

Damned if she didn’t have paw prints on her shirt, and damned if Gabe didn’t notice how lovely her small breasts were beneath that shirt. A sliver of her lacy bra showed above her collar, another thing he shouldn’t have noticed. Or enjoyed.

“Are… are you afraid of dogs, ma’am?” Damn. I sound like a stuttering fool.

“Kind of,” she admitted, not taking her eyes off the now tranquil animals, nose to nose at Gabe’s feet, the bone on the ground between them. “Mom has a teacup poodle. Peewee fits in her purse. He’s cute and, umm, controllable.”

He got it then. Sullivan needed to control everything. That’s why the tedious search grid for Kelsey. That’s why the boot trays at the front door. That’s why her fear of dogs, too. She couldn’t control them. It also explained her snippy attitude and the damned menu and medicine schedule. Gabe didn’t really need to know about it. That was her job. She just needed him to know that it was her job and that she was in charge.

Silly girl.

There was a time he’d tried to control everything thinking he could stop bad things from happening. Didn’t work.


“Watch this.” Gabe held his hand out with the palm down, needing to redeem himself. “Let me show you how smart these dogs are.”

Alex had developed his own hand signals when he’d trained his dogs. Whisper and Smoke crouched to their bellies, their eyes bright with this new game. When Gabe clenched his fist, both dogs lifted to their haunches and resumed an identical sitting position. He presented a vertical flat palm. Both dogs backed up until he clenched his fist, at which point the dogs sat again, watching alertly for his next command.