I sit. Just like Ranger. Same tone, same expectation of immediate compliance. At least Top doesn't make me shake his hand first. Ranger flops at my feet with a grateful sigh, clearly relieved to be done with whatever personal hell I was putting him through.
Top settles beside me, pulling a water bottle from his cargo pocket and tossing it my way. I catch it, crack it open, drain half in one go. Pour the rest into my palm for Ranger, who laps it up gratefully.
We sit in silence for a solid minute. It's a Top Grady specialty—letting silence do the heavy lifting until you break down and fill it.
"I asked someone to move with me," I finally say. "To Texas. To Iron Creek."
"The vet?"
Of course he knows. Everyone on this base knows everything. It's like living in a very regimented small town where the gossip network has security clearance.
"Yeah."
"She say no?"
"She said I assumed. Made plans without asking her first. Talked to my brother about her career before I talked to her about it." The words taste bitter. "She said no."
Top makes a noncommittal sound. "And you're pissed."
"I'm frustrated."
"You're pissed." He leans back against the bench, tilting his face toward the sun. "Because you thought you had it all figured out. Laid it out perfect. And she didn't fall in line."
"That's not—" I stop. Because that's exactly what I thought. I had a plan. A good plan. She should have seen that. "It's a great opportunity. For both of us."
"Is it?"
"Yes." I crush the empty water bottle in my fist. "Iron Creek K9 is expanding. Two new huge contracts. They need someone who knows working dogs, behavioral protocols, the whole operation. She's perfect for it."
"That what she wants?"
"She loves that kind of work."
"That's not what I asked." Top turns to look at me, and there's something in his expression that makes me feel like a lieutenant getting debriefed. "I asked if that's what she wants."
My mouth opens. Closes. I try again. "I don't know."
"Did you ask?"
"I told her about the opportunity?—"
"That's not asking, Mercer. That's presenting." He shifts on the bench. "Let me ask you something. You asking her to follow you, or asking to build something together?"
The question hits like a punch.
"I—" The words tangle. "Both?"
"Can't be both. Either you're inviting her into a life you've already designed, or you're asking her to design one with you." Top pulls another water bottle from his pocket, cracks it open. "Which is it?"
Ranger lifts his head, looking between us like he's following the conversation.
"My brother asked if she'd be interested in working with Iron Creek," I say slowly. "I thought it would be perfect. She'd have resources, challenging cases, a whole K9 operation to help build?—"
"Your brother's operation."
"Well, yeah, but?—"
"In your hometown."
