thoughtfulness, he couldn’t take the food and send her on
her way. Nor could he relegate them to sitting on rough hay bales for the
duration of their meal. Instead, he led her inside, where they plopped down at
his small kitchen table across from one another. Close. Personal. A setup made
for conversation. Damn it. As much as
he preferred to ignore her questions, he found himself answering, although
vaguely. “Yeah.”
“Wow.”
Her head tilted this way and that. “Come to think of it, you do have that
soldier look to you.”
He
bristled at the term. “SEAL.”
Her
eyes widened all the more. “That explains a lot.”
He
arched an eyebrow and took a hearty bite of his mashed potatoes.
“The
way you move. Graceful. Confident. It’s hard to explain. It’s like you know
everything about yourself and your capabilities and know exactly what’s around
you at all times.”
He
understood her meaning. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. Fear registered way down on
the priority list and hadn’t cropped up since the war zone. SEALs work through
their fear because that’s just what they do, for their team, for the mission.
Not to mention the worst the world could throw at him now paled in comparison
to what he’d already faced.
Growing
up, he figured out two things fast. First, he always idolized the Navy SEALs
and more than anything wanted to become one. Secondly, wealth possessed its own
drawbacks. His father, a prominent lawyer, earned more than enough to keep his
family in all stages of luxury. A sprawling ranch filled with purebred cattle
and the best quarter horses around made up a small part of the yearly budget.
Dusty fell in love with the country lifestyle, enjoying each day no matter the
weather, no matter the hours. He felt at home on the farm, especially with the
horses.
Unfortunately,
due to his family’s assets, he and his brothers quickly became chick magnets.
Women flocked to them, threw themselves at them, and did just about anything in
a bid for marriage and a chunk of the family’s money. Dusty found the situation
humorous until his own particular castle began to topple. Women became an
instrument of stress release, until he met and fell in love with Colette. War
took him away and his relationship became a casualty by the time he returned
home. His next conquest proved the ringer his family warned him about over the
years, but he’d been too blind to see.
“Dusty?”
April’s
voice pulled him from his thoughts. “What were you saying?” He forked another
bite of fried chicken.
She
looked at him with softness, respect, and caring. His gut clenched in reaction.
“I
asked if the military lets all handlers keep their dogs.”
He
shook his head. “The dogs may change handlers through their career, until they
become too old, injured, or unable to do their job. Then, they’re returned to
the States and made available for adoption. I got lucky. Due to his age and
arthritis, Ben became available at the same time I resigned. We came home
together.”
As if
sensing the topic of conversation, Ben looked up from his soft oversized pillow
near the table. Dusty picked a hunk of meat off the bone and tossed it to the
dog that caught the food and chewed with gusto.
“Thank
you.” The soft words pulled his attention back to her.
“For
what?”
“Your
service. The sacrifices you undoubtedly made. For doing what the great majority
of people wouldn’t do.” Her blue eyes, full of respect and admiration, met his.
The
praise and her expression warmed his heart, but sent up a red flag as well. The
last thing he needed was some woman deciding she wanted him bad enough to be
forever under his feet and conniving ways to trap him in a marriage. If he
ignored her, she’d soon get the hint.
Like
she took the damn hint earlier? He’d purposely spat out phrases he’d never used
in the presence of a woman before. If his mother heard him, she’d have a bar of
soap in one hand and a switch in the other. She
her way. Nor could he relegate them to sitting on rough hay bales for the
duration of their meal. Instead, he led her inside, where they plopped down at
his small kitchen table across from one another. Close. Personal. A setup made
for conversation. Damn it. As much as
he preferred to ignore her questions, he found himself answering, although
vaguely. “Yeah.”
“Wow.”
Her head tilted this way and that. “Come to think of it, you do have that
soldier look to you.”
He
bristled at the term. “SEAL.”
Her
eyes widened all the more. “That explains a lot.”
He
arched an eyebrow and took a hearty bite of his mashed potatoes.
“The
way you move. Graceful. Confident. It’s hard to explain. It’s like you know
everything about yourself and your capabilities and know exactly what’s around
you at all times.”
He
understood her meaning. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. Fear registered way down on
the priority list and hadn’t cropped up since the war zone. SEALs work through
their fear because that’s just what they do, for their team, for the mission.
Not to mention the worst the world could throw at him now paled in comparison
to what he’d already faced.
Growing
up, he figured out two things fast. First, he always idolized the Navy SEALs
and more than anything wanted to become one. Secondly, wealth possessed its own
drawbacks. His father, a prominent lawyer, earned more than enough to keep his
family in all stages of luxury. A sprawling ranch filled with purebred cattle
and the best quarter horses around made up a small part of the yearly budget.
Dusty fell in love with the country lifestyle, enjoying each day no matter the
weather, no matter the hours. He felt at home on the farm, especially with the
horses.
Unfortunately,
due to his family’s assets, he and his brothers quickly became chick magnets.
Women flocked to them, threw themselves at them, and did just about anything in
a bid for marriage and a chunk of the family’s money. Dusty found the situation
humorous until his own particular castle began to topple. Women became an
instrument of stress release, until he met and fell in love with Colette. War
took him away and his relationship became a casualty by the time he returned
home. His next conquest proved the ringer his family warned him about over the
years, but he’d been too blind to see.
“Dusty?”
April’s
voice pulled him from his thoughts. “What were you saying?” He forked another
bite of fried chicken.
She
looked at him with softness, respect, and caring. His gut clenched in reaction.
“I
asked if the military lets all handlers keep their dogs.”
He
shook his head. “The dogs may change handlers through their career, until they
become too old, injured, or unable to do their job. Then, they’re returned to
the States and made available for adoption. I got lucky. Due to his age and
arthritis, Ben became available at the same time I resigned. We came home
together.”
As if
sensing the topic of conversation, Ben looked up from his soft oversized pillow
near the table. Dusty picked a hunk of meat off the bone and tossed it to the
dog that caught the food and chewed with gusto.
“Thank
you.” The soft words pulled his attention back to her.
“For
what?”
“Your
service. The sacrifices you undoubtedly made. For doing what the great majority
of people wouldn’t do.” Her blue eyes, full of respect and admiration, met his.
The
praise and her expression warmed his heart, but sent up a red flag as well. The
last thing he needed was some woman deciding she wanted him bad enough to be
forever under his feet and conniving ways to trap him in a marriage. If he
ignored her, she’d soon get the hint.
Like
she took the damn hint earlier? He’d purposely spat out phrases he’d never used
in the presence of a woman before. If his mother heard him, she’d have a bar of
soap in one hand and a switch in the other. She
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