Page 16 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

“I want that, too.” He squeezed her hand in return. “My life in Alabama is over.”

I hope so. I really hope so.

Eric slowed again as he entered a development. They drove past several more streets before he turned onto a driveway leading to an unexpectedly large gray house. She parked behind the SUV and shut off the engine. “Remember,” she warned, “choose your words carefully around him. He might be a great guy, but he’s still a federal agent.” One who held Jesse’s future in his hands.

“I got it,” he reassured her then cracked a cocky smile. “It’s good to see you, sis.”

More tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “It’s good to see you, too.” You have no idea how good.

A door slammed, and she looked out the windshield. Eric stood by the SUV with a Heckler & Koch MP-5 slung over his shoulder, a rifle she’d shot a few times in the backwoods where she and Jesse had grown up. The side door of his SUV popped open and a large, dark brown, shorthaired shepherd leaped out, rushing at Jesse’s side of the car.

“Oh, man.” Jesse pushed open his door. “Look at him. He’s got stripes!”

“No, wait!” She made a grab for his arm, but he’d already gotten out. While she didn’t think Eric would have loosed his dog if it would attack, she pushed open her door, ready to throw herself between them.

To her relief, the dog trotted toward her brother, its tail wagging as if it had just met a new playmate.

“Go ahead,” Eric said. “You can pet him. Tiger, zit.”

The dog sat and stretched out its snout to sniff Jesse’s hand. Hesitantly, her brother touched his fingers to the animal’s head. Still sitting, Tiger’s tail swished back and forth on the pavement with obvious glee. Her brother laughed, a sound she hadn’t heard in a decade, and then it had been the gleeful giggle of an eight-year-old boy.

“He likes you.” Eric pulled out a black gear bag from the back of his SUV and set it on the driveway.

“Be careful.” Her heart thumped a bit faster as she rounded the hood of her car to keep an eye on the dog. To her relief, Tiger was licking Jesse’s hand, probably tasting the remnants of the sandwich and chips he’d eaten—food Eric had bought for her brother, not for himself, as she’d mistakenly assumed.

Jesse gently stroked the dog’s pointed ears, and the beginnings of a grin curved her brother’s mouth.

Tiger leaned into Jesse’s hand, clearly enjoying the ministrations. Could be he was a natural with dogs, much like her best friend, Andi.

Like her brother, Tess hadn’t grown up around dogs, but after working with Andi at the Dog Park Café, she’d come to love them, especially Andi’s dog, Stray, and Nick’s K-9, Saxon. The urge to adopt one of the strays that occasionally flocked to the café had been growing steadily, but her landlord had a strict no-dog policy.

“I can see why you named him Tiger.” Excitement beamed on her brother’s face. “He has these cool stripes all over his body.” Jesse ran his hand along the dog’s spine, and Tiger’s tail whipped back and forth. “What kind of dog is he?”

“A Dutch shepherd. His coloring is called ‘brindle.’”

Tiger landed a lick on the back of Jesse’s hand. “Does he bark in Dutch?”

Eric’s deep, rich laugh zinged straight to her belly, taking her completely off guard. “No, but he understands it.”

“Really? No shit.” Jesse’s eyes widened. “Can you teach me to talk to him?”

“Sure.”

Even though it wasn’t meant for her, when Eric smiled at her brother, her heart skipped a beat then began beating faster. With all that golden blond hair glinting in the sunlight, those high cheekbones and clear blue eyes, he really did remind her of one of those conquering Viking heroes they made movies about.

Jesse’s face twisted into a frown. “Doesn’t he remember tryin’ to bite my leg off?”

“To him, what happened this morning doesn’t matter anymore.” Eric shut the SUV’s rear door. “Then, he was working. Now, it’s playtime. Come inside, then you can take him into the backyard for a while.”

“Awesome.” Jesse hustled to the Camry to retrieve his backpack.

“Are you sure Tiger won’t hurt him?” she asked, eyeing his thick shoulders as he adjusted the rifle strap.

“Positive.” They turned to watch Jesse head to the door with Tiger trotting close on his heels. “Do you have a bag?”

“On the backseat.” While he opened the door and retrieved her large duffel, she collected her shoulder bag and her penknife from the center console.

A rising thundercloud blinked out the afternoon sun. Jesse was right. The irony of the situation was as palpable as the rainstorm headed their way. She took a deep breath and let it out. We’re really doing this.