Page 46 of Lock ’N’ Load

“What the fuck?”

“You guys okay?”

“Duh, what do you think?”

“Shit. Sorry, Matt.” Another man’s chuckle. “Didn’t know you had company.”

Lifting her head enough to look over Matt’s shoulder, Trista’s eyes widened at the sight of six enormous men—six armed men—filling the open doorway.

“We’re fine.” Matt twisted his body slightly, turning to the other men. “Could one of you put Sheba back in the kennel?”

“Sure thing, Matt,” one of the men said.

“Everything really okay here?” another asked.

“Yeah. Just a little cynophobia,” Matt answered.

“A little?” someone said in a sarcastic tone.

Dying from embarrassment, Trista tucked her head back down against Matt’s chest and closed her eyes. His thick pectoral was warm and hard beneath her cheek, and that warmth zinged straight to her toes, then back up to the top of her head.

“Give us a few, would ya, guys?” Matt continued stroking the top of her head in a gentle, soothing gesture. “We’ll be down shortly. We all need to have a meeting.”

“Ten-four.”

“Copy that.”

“Later.”

The door clicked shut, and they were alone. Except for Poofy, who remained frozen on top of the desk, although his hair no longer stuck straight up from his spine at a ninety-degree angle.

She expected Matt to release her, but he didn’t. His arms remained securely around her, his hand alternately stroking her hair and her nape in delicious circles. And she was sitting on his lap. His lap. Aside from her father’s, she’d never sat on a man’s lap before, certainly not one whose legs were as big and strong as tree trunks.

As if only now realizing that her arms were still linked tightly around his back, she eased her hold, but not completely. Being cocooned in his embrace felt too damned good, as did the rippling muscle beneath her fingers.

He eased away, looking down at her. “You know we’re going to have to work on that.”

As she spoke, her lips grazed his chest. “On what?”

“Your fear of dogs.”

Leaning back, she met his amused gaze with a horrified one of her own. “No.”

“Yes.” He nodded emphatically. His lips lifted at the corners, but there was a discernible hint of sincerity in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Involuntarily, her hands clenched into fists. “Oh, yes I do.”

“The old adage is true. Dogs really are man’s—and woman’s—best friend, but it’s so much more than that. Sheba is not only my friend and partner, but she’s family. She loves me, and I love her. She’d take a bullet for me, and I’d do the same for her in a heartbeat.” He laughed. “I swear she knows me better than any other female in my life.”

The idea of Matt with another woman suddenly annoyed her, and not for the first time, she wondered whether he had a girlfriend. If he did, he hadn’t mentioned it, and he didn’t seem worried that she was now staying in his house for an unknown period of time.

“What happened to make you so scared of dogs?” he asked, his voice gentling, encouraging her to talk.

Not caring to relive that horrid nightmare, she hadn’t told many people in her life what had happened. Before she understood why, the words came gushing out. “When I was a girl, my mother took me to a park.”

When Trista finished describing that awful day, Matt asked, “Were you hurt?” His tone was laced with concern.

“N-no. Not really. It didn’t bite me, but it slobbered all over me, and I couldn’t breathe. I never saw Miss Annie again.”