More, Please (7 page)

“Dog-related?”

She laughs. “Not really. It’s actually an
organization that promotes the vegan lifestyle.”

I pause, taking in this information. “But
you’re not—”

“Vegan? No. I tried it for a few days
once and failed miserably.”

I sigh, relieved that I’m not taking her
down the dark path by ordering General Tso’s chicken for her tonight. “I was
going to say, I’m pretty sure you ate a steak at the hotel restaurant.”

“Best steak I’ve had in a long while.”

She must not get out much, because the
steaks there are way below par. If she weren’t so young, I’d invite her to a
place I know in Dayton that serves a really good steak.

But she is young, I remind myself.

Hannah hands her the wet dog toy. “Want
to try? Kosmo can catch it before it even hits the ground. I trained him.”

“I saw that. You’re really a good dog
trainer, Hannah. So, how do I get him to do this exactly? I don’t think I’ll be
as good at it as you,” Allie says.

I love that she makes Hannah feel good
about herself. I’m not sure what goes on in that school my niece attends, but
it seems to be chiseling away at her self-esteem.

Watching her with my niece I feel
somewhat vindicated that I misjudged Allie’s age. It’s not the way she looks.
She
looks
24. But something in her eyes seems almost… tired. Like she’s
seen just enough to be a little more burned-out on life than others her age.

No, I’d guess her age to be around 28. 28
is doable for me. There’s a world of difference between 24 and 28 in my book.
At 24, I was a fresh-faced, newly promoted Lieutenant JG looking to charge
through life without thinking twice. Four years later, I had made it through my
first two SEAL missions and was well on my way to becoming the sardonic pain-in-the-ass
I am today.

After Hannah retreats to the other side
of the yard as Kosmo sniffs something intriguing along the fence line, Allie
looks over at me, her gaze wandering appreciatively over my pecs. She glances
away briefly before asking, “So why aren’t you in the Navy anymore? Your
commander said you were pretty amazing when I called him for a reference. Got a
silver medal, or something.”

I laugh. “Silver Star.”

She blushes again, and I hate how attractive
she looks when the pink rushes to her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m not really up on the
whole military thing,” she says.

“That’s all right. But I thought you said
your dad was a vet?”

“Veterinarian,” she corrects, and I’m
realizing just how little she really talked about herself at dinner that night.
I must have monopolized the conversation.

“So anyway, why’d you get out?” she asks.

 I stretch my legs and watch Hannah
in the distance, keeping my voice low. I never like her hearing this sort of
thing. “I was shot in my shoulder pretty bad. Wouldn’t have stopped me from
staying in, but it’s my dominant shoulder, so I have a harder time with an
assault rifle.” I skip mentioning the fact that I had a solid six months during
which I couldn’t sleep more than an hour at a time. Or the fact that the eerie
silence of nighttime in Newton’s Creek brings my blood pressure up at least twenty
points.

Her brow pinches with concern. “I’m
sorry. There wasn’t someplace else they could use you?”

“Oh, sure. I could have stayed in the
Navy or even commanded with an injury like mine. But I can’t be a SEAL. And
that’s all I ever wanted to be.”

“That’s terrible.”

I hate people’s pity, but there doesn’t
seem to be pity in her eyes. Only understanding. So I don’t mind. Giving a
shrug, I say, “It worked out fine. My family’s going through some stuff right
now, and I think it’s better for me to be here now, anyway. How about you? Why
are you juggling two jobs when you should be rescuing dogs full-time?”

“You do what you gotta do,” she replies with
a grin. “And there’s not a lot of money in the dog rescuing business.”

I crack a smile, liking that she doesn’t
inundate me with the details of her life. It’s refreshing. Anytime I meet women
these days, I feel like they are trying the 30-second speed-dating tactic. I’ll
be standing in the produce aisle and a long-locked stranger is suddenly telling
me her decades of backstory and all her life goals. Which of course, isn’t
really what I want to hear since I don’t know what my life goals are anymore.
Just get through my plumbing inspection with the County so I can put up my
drywall in #3, I guess.

Certainly not the goals I once had in my
life.

When the doorbell rings, I go inside to
get the food. It feels good to have a reason to pull my eyes from her. Looking
at Allie is somehow calming and unsettling at the same time. And it confuses
the shit out of me.

Hannah washes her hands before I even
have to remind her. Apparently her mother did something right, because she sure
didn’t pick that up from her dad. Plopping herself down in a seat at the table
next to Allie, she fires off, “Do you believe in fairies?”

My gut clenches up. It’s a pretty
innocent question, but Allie has no idea that there’s no right answer at this
point. Say yes, and she’ll repeat it to the kids at school and get teased, and
say no, and she’ll be heartbroken.

Allie looks thoughtful. “I’m not sure. I’ve
never seen a fairy, so I don’t really know they exist. But I think it’s more fun
to believe, than not to believe, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Hannah nods sagely.
“Do you want to try my egg roll?” she offers Allie.

I breathe a sigh of relief and sit on the
other side of Hannah. “Wow. You never offer me any egg roll.”

“Silly. I know you don’t like egg rolls.”

She’s actually wrong. I love egg rolls. I
could eat twenty of them at one sitting, but I’m having a hard enough time
keeping myself in shape since separating from the Navy. I’ve got workout
equipment in my basement, but my routine is a far cry from the seven days a
week of PT I used to do. So I’m stuck eating my chicken and broccoli and
pretending that crunchy vegetables don’t make my lip curl up.

God, I miss the Navy.

Allie’s cheeks are bursting with color as
she eats her General Tso’s chicken. I asked for it extra hot, as she had
requested. “Too hot for you?”

She finishes chewing and replies, “It’s
never too hot for me.”

I can’t miss the double entendre, and
despite the fact that my niece is two feet away, I’m wondering if I see a
flicker of suggestion in Allie’s eyes.

Allie probably talks to Hannah more than
she does to me during the meal, and I have to admit, I enjoy watching her do
it. She shows enthusiasm for everything Hannah says, and doesn’t even bat an
eyelash when the little girl changes topics two or three times in a long-winded
sentence. Allie has loads of patience, and I imagine that’s why she’s so good
with dogs.

“So, are you headed to the pound to pick
up another dog tomorrow?” I ask as I stack up the plates from the table. Hannah
has crashed on the couch next to the warm body of my new chocolate Lab mix, and
I’m betting she’ll be covered in hair when her father picks her up in a few
minutes.

I glance at Allie when a reply doesn’t
come.

“I’m not sure,” she finally says. I know
enough about her already to know that she doesn’t want to give me details. That
seems to be her mantra. And normally, I’d respect it. But this time…

“Why wouldn’t you?” I dare to ask.

“I’m…” Her voice trails almost as if she
is still in the process of making a decision about something. “I’m actually
selling my condo.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She gives a nod, though it seems
more directed at herself than at me. “Yeah, I am. I talked to a real estate
agent the other day and the value has really skyrocketed.”

That’s pretty unusual in this town, and I
hope the agent wasn’t blowing sun up her skirt. “Property around here doesn’t normally
appreciate very quickly,” I warn her.

“Well, my condo did because the commuter
bus started picking up just a few blocks from me. According to my agent, the
place will sell in a week. More people from Dayton and Cincinnati are coming to
live here now that there’s an alternative to driving.”

Oh, well, that makes sense. “Are you
buying something else?”

Her cheeks puff out as she expels a slow,
ample breath. “I’m hoping to. I’m bidding on a foreclosure. I’m going to live
on a friend’s couch till then,” she states with a laugh. “The only bad thing
is, I can’t take on any more dogs until I see if I get this foreclosure or not.
And that’s killing me. There are so many dogs there right now who are running
out of time.”

“Any idea when you will hear back from
the bank?” I ask, knowing the answer, but just making sure she knows it, too. I
don’t want her real estate agent leading her on, especially when Allie will be
sleeping on someone’s couch till she closes on something new.

“Could be days or months. You never know
with foreclosures.” She shrugs. “I don’t mind. It will all be worth it if I get
it.” Her eyes drift away from mine, and I can see she’s imagining it, whatever
it is. “I could keep a lot more dogs in this new place than my condo. I’m so
tired of going into the pound and feeling like I’m choosing who is going to
live and who is going to die.”

Her words slice through me, flooding my
senses with memories that I try to keep locked up deep inside.

Yeah, I know how she feels.

“Do you mind noise?” I hear myself asking
her, even though I’m not really sure if the voice is coming from me.

She laughs. “I sure better not. The place
I’ll be staying is a real party building, I’ve heard.”

“No, I mean construction noise.”

Shrugging, her eyebrows arch in question.

I press my lips together a moment. “I
just about finished with one of the townhomes, but can’t sell it until all five
of them are complete. It wouldn’t get the best price with all the noise and
mess. But if you and the dogs don’t mind it, you’re welcome to it. It would
just be sitting vacant, anyway. You couldn’t put any pictures up or anything,
since I just painted it and I’d rather not do it over again. And if you could
just try to keep the hardwoods in okay shape, you’re welcome to have a few dogs
there.”

As soon as the words rush out of my
mouth, I nearly regret them. I can already foresee having to refinish the
floors before trying to sell the place in a few months. But the thought of her
feeling like she’s depriving some dogs of their second chance at life kills me.

Besides, whether she knows it or not,
there’s a good chance she won’t get her foreclosure. And I don’t want her
thinking about the lives that were lost while she took a chance at it.

To my relief, she shakes her head.
“Thanks. But I really can’t afford to pay rent right now. Even short term. I’ve
sunk every dime I have into my offer.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t charge you to stay
there. Like I said, the noise will be pretty bad and it will be empty, anyway.”

“Really?” She seems aghast.

“Really.” I stand when I hear a knock on
the door. Kosmo lumbers off the couch and barks, waking Hannah.

Swinging open the door, I see my brother
on the other side. His eyes immediately fall to Kosmo.

“Hey, boy!” he says, bending over him and
giving him an enthusiastic head rub. Ryan glances up at me. “So, you got him?”

“He’s all mine now,” I answer, feeling a
swell of pride. I know it’s ridiculous, but I’ve wanted a dog for so long. Being
deployed as often as I was, it just wasn’t a good idea till now.

“Daddy!” Hannah cries out, her voice
still sleepy. She races toward him and my brother is enclosed in her slender
arms.

I don’t normally feel any jealousy toward
my brother, not for the 6,000 square foot home he lives in by himself when
Hannah’s not with him. Not for the hot tub or infinity edge pool he has in the
backyard. Not for the souped-up man cave just off the foyer that has a TV I
couldn’t even fit in my townhome.

But when Hannah embraces him with so much
love it could fill a house and bust the doors open, I feel a pang of jealousy. He
claims he wasted three years of his life with the wrong woman. But look at what
he has to show for it.

“Hi. You must be Hannah’s dad.” Allie has
come up from behind me and extends her hand to Ryan. She’s already holding her stack
of paperwork in her other hand and her purse is slung over her shoulder.

Ryan flashes her a smile, and I bristle
seeing his eyes give her an appraising glance up and down. “Ryan Sheridan.” He takes
her hand. “Logan’s younger brother.” He stresses the word
younger
as if
it is supposed to matter—like if she wanted the younger version of me,
then she knows where to turn. It annoys the hell out of me.

“Allie Donovan.”

“Allie runs the rescue organization,” I
tell him.

“Good for you. Thank you for saving this
big guy.” Ryan stoops to pet Kosmo again, purely for her benefit, I’m sure.