Great, the very picture of a professional pilot: a Donald Duck robe and smiley-face rubber slides. Shaking his head, he pushed his feet into them, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops, this time over an insane man in Jannie’s backyard. Then again, this was Orlando. Maybe they’d just dismiss him as yet another Florida Man.
He strode to the wall of glass doors and flipped the latch on one, sliding it open. To his surprise, the dog didn’t rush out or use the nearby doggie door. Instead, he sat politely in front of the open slider.
Nick pointed. “Go ahead.”
The dog didn’t move.
“Go.”
Nothing.
“OK—”
The dog bolted.
Nick smiled and shook his head as he watched the animal run like the wind, circling the yard in graceful leaps, so excited that his pointy ears flattened against his head. Stopping at the back fence, he lifted his leg, then resumed zooming around, pausing behind a palm tree and emerging with something blue and pink in his mouth. Nick moved to sit on one of the tall barstools precisely lined up at the high counter of the summer kitchen, but the dog bounded to him, toy in mouth, gently dropping it at his feet before sitting nicely.
Smiling, Nick bent to pick up the slobbery toy. Cujo was very well-mannered, it seemed.
Why was he not surprised?
He examined the periwinkle cloth animal, a dragon of some sort. “You want me to throw this?”
The dog sat motionless, eyes bright, mouth open in a white-toothed grin.
“So now you’re my friend, huh?” Using his best MLB move, Nick pitched the toy across the yard, expecting the dog to go after it, but he didn’t move.
“Go get it,” he urged.
Quivering with energy, the dog continued to stare.
“OK,” he tried, and the shepherd launched as if rocket-propelled.
“Damn,” Nick muttered.OKwas the magic word, it seemed.
For the next several minutes, he played an intense game of fetch with Jannie’s German Shepherd, striving to throw the toy as far as possible. The dog retrieved repeatedly, tirelessly racing back and sitting every time. After a while, he even edged close to gently place the toy in Nick’s outstretched hand. Not once did he go after that dragon without Nick’s “OK.”
This was a lot of training, Nick realized. He was impressed. If Jannie had been the one to do it, she’d put a lot of time and effort into this dog.
“What the hell is going on out here?”
Her voice brought an immediate smile to his lips, and something turned over in his chest.
Nick swung around and smiled at Jannie, his gaze roaming over her, wet blonde hair to white Crocs. Her shower had brought much-needed color to her cheeks, which now looked rosy. She had changed into a sky-blue tank top and shorts, her lips glistened with a hint of gloss, and he licked his own lips at the thought of tasting her sweet mouth again.
“What’s going on?” she repeated.
“A little game of fetch.”
She looked him up and down and smirked. “Nice outfit.”
“Likewise.”
“Thanks.” A tiny smile. “I went ahead and washed your clothes. They should be ready soon.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Yeah. Don’t expect me to iron them. And keep that robe closed.”
