“I can certainly say you’re successful based on your sense of humor if nothing else.”
“Try me at office parties. I’m a hoot.” Talking with him was much easier than I thought it would be. Maybe being attracted to someone was the perfect icebreaker for delving into twisted memories. “I don’t know if anyone ever fully recovers, but Imade a promise to myself in that horrible shed that if I was lucky enough to escape, the bastard wouldn’t destroy the rest of my life. I’ve worked very hard to ensure I didn’t lie to myself.” It felt a little as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
“You obviously kept your promise.”
“My work helps more than you know.” Another awkward moment settled between us. “I wanted to reach out to you. I almost did several times.”
“As I did with you, but you deserved to have your life back.”
Why was it when tragedies of any type occurred, it was often very difficult for two people to talk?
“Whatever happened to Max? The poor dog. He allowed me to wrap and keep my arms around him for hours. He didn’t whine. Didn’t complain.”
As soon as I asked the question, I sensed a wave of profound sadness. “He was killed in the line of duty less than two years later. I lost my little buddy.”
“Right before you quit the force.”
“Somewhere in that neighborhood.”
“I’m so sorry, Maverick. He was such a sweet, amazing pup. I know his work wasn’t as a therapy dog, but him being there that horrible night kept me from falling into an ugly abyss.” When he lifted his eyebrow as if hurt that I wasn’t labeling him the reason I was rescued, I grinned. “Not that you weren’t my hero.”
“Be careful who you call a hero. My agent would tell you I’m on everyone’s shit list.” He laughed softly as he rubbed the stubble on his jaw.
“A procrastinator?” The memories had been so difficult to bear, enough that I’d managed to find several ways of ignoring the flashes that usually occurred in the middle of the night.
Especially during a storm, which was how the monster had managed to stay in the shadows on the night of my kidnapping.
“World class.” Now his laugh was as bitter as mine had sounded earlier. “You’re the only other human Max really ever allowed see his alternate personality. Loving and requiring belly rubs. He was something else, including the best partner I ever had.”
“What about your female partner?” I teased. The swirl of lingering questions was close to being unavoidable. “Oh, that’s right. You hated each other.”
“You’re a brat and she was reassigned. I think she’d had enough of me during the Python Killer investigation. I never allowed her time to enjoy a personal life. Always interrupting.” His entire face softened and the slight shrug was adorable. “Besides they don’t call dogs man’s best friend for nothing.”
“I suppose you’re right. Did you ever get another dog as a partner?”
“Unfortunately, no. Field work led to corporate bureaucracy, which led to a desk job that I couldn’t stand. That was the main factor for switching careers.” He lifted his glass as if in a salute. A sore subject.
“A desk job to a desk job. That makes sense.”
The hard clench of his jaw was following by a huff. “Touché, but now, I’m the master of my schedule.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t need a companion.”
“I don’t need a rescue dog with my current profession. The poor pup would be bored to death. He’d never get enough walks, standing by the door with his own leash in his mouth, his form of begging never working.”
“Ha. Think of it this way. A twenty-minute walk and time by a roaring fire by your feet for hours on end is pretty nice to imagine.”
“No roaring fires. This is Miami. I live a very boring life.”
Leaning over the table, I folded my arms. “Maybe you do, although from what I’ve heard through the infamous grapevine, you still hunt clues on your own. Wouldn’t having a companion by your side be a nice perk? Plus, he could keep your feet warm while you’re writing. There are hundreds of dogs available for adoption who worked with law enforcement officers. You’d be saving a life.”
“You think I need to get a dog.”
“I think it would help with your loneliness. Imagine the additional layer in your books.” I wasn’t typically so forward, but I felt a closeness with him, a crackle of electricity that only occurred in people who were at least somewhat familiar with each other.
Or as in my case, attracted to the person.
“What makes you think I’m lonely?” His deep voice vibrated across my skin.
