But she couldn’t stop smiling as Ripley wriggled closer, clearly having decided Sabrina belonged to her now. “I’ve never even had a houseplant. What if I’m not cut out to own a dog?”
“Well, first of all, Ripley will be your partner, not just a pet.” His hand settled warm on her shoulder. “It makes a difference, trust me. You automatically step up when you think about her like that. But I have a good feeling about this.”
Dazed, Sabrina glanced up and blew out a breath. “Okay. Where do we start?”
Noah grinned. “You’re gonna need some supplies.”
They quickly made their way to the pet store.
“We’ll get the basics to start.” Noah grabbed a cart at the entrance like a man on a mission. “Food, bowls, leash, treats for training.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Sabrina followed him, Ripley prancing between them on her borrowed leash, still glued to Sabrina’s side. The car ride had been…interesting. Full of man and dog, a combo that shouldn’t have been so appealing.
But definitely was.
“Oh, we’re just getting warmed up.” He steered them toward an aisle filled with what looked like every dog product ever invented. “SAR dogs need specific gear. We’ll start with the essentials and build from there.”
“There’s more than essentials?”
His answering grin made her stomach flip. “You have no idea. Wait until we get to the specialized training equipment.”
“I think my credit card just whimpered.”
“Good thing you’re getting that promotion.” He winked, then held up two different leashes. “Standard or retractable?”
“You’re the expert.” She gestured for him to choose.
Normally, she’d be all over making her own decisions, getting out in front, proving she could handle whatever got thrown in her lap.
But there was something really great about having Noah around. He made her feel supported instead of defensive. And she couldn’t quite figure out how he’d done it.
“Standard. Better control during training.” He added it to the cart, then grabbed a matching collar. “You might like to switch later on, but at the beginning, the retractable ones can be dangerous if the dog lunges unexpectedly.”
“Voice of experience?”
“Dancer taught me that lesson early on.” Noah crouched to measure the collar against Ripley’s neck. “Your girl here is about the same size he was at this age.”
Your girl.The words sent a little thrill through her as Noah handed her the collar and nodded to Ripley. She bent down and tried it on the dog, Ripley sitting perfectly still as if she understood the importance of the moment.
“She really likes you,” Noah commented, scratching under Ripley’s chin. “Dogs are excellent judges of character.”
“What if I’m terrible at this?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
And, no, she definitely wasn’t used to being this vulnerable in front of a guy. Noah never made her feel like she had to pull punches, though, or be anything other than herself.
It was doing a number on her.
He stepped close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “You won’t be. But even if you struggle at first, I’ll be right here to help.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.” His gaze turned molten as they stared at each other, undercurrents rippling the space between them.
There was something super hot about a guy who didn’t shy away from tough questions. Who seemed so genuinely earnest in his responses, as if it had never occurred to him that he could lie or hedge.
But then he cleared his throat, shattering the moment as he turned back to the shelves. “Food and water bowls. Stainless steel lasts longer than plastic.”
They worked their way through the store, Noah explaining each item as it went into the cart. She watched Noah confidently selecting supplies, explaining each choice with the expertise she usually insisted on having herself. The strange part wasn’t that she was letting him lead—it was how natural it felt to trust his judgment. When was the last time she’d trusted anyone’s judgment but her own?
