Handle Me

Nothing ruffled her feathers, least of all him.

A stinging pain lanced through his chest. Ty stopped himself from reaching up to rub at it, the motion a pointless reflex. He knew by now that nothing would take it away.

He took a step forward. Kaia lurched up, hop-stepping in time with his movements, staying perfectly even with his hip as he moved to close the gap between them.

Something sharp flashed through Van’s gaze as she watched the dog’s halting progress. Her body swayed as they reached the front steps, as if she wanted to reach out. Help.

But she didn’t.

Ty didn’t stop at the bottom. He didn’t even pause at the top. He kept moving until he could feel the heat drifting from her body. Leaning down into her personal space, he pressed his lips to her temple. Her body stiffened. He wasn’t touching her anywhere else, but he could still feel it. Her tension radiated out like a magnet flipped to its opposing pole, trying to push him away.

“It’s good to see you, Van.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t have to. He knew she didn’t agree.

Pulling away from him, her gaze skittered over his face for several seconds, then down his body, tracing each arm, his torso, legs and feet, until it came to rest at the dog sitting patiently beside him.

“Kaia?” she finally asked in her soft, smooth voice, the one that always sent a wave of longing washing over him. Today was no different.

Ty nodded, placing a hand on the furred head at his hip, scratching behind her ears.

Van slowly sank in front of him. She didn’t reach out to the dog. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her own folded legs, hugging her body into a tight ball. The two stared at each other for several seconds, neither of them moving.

Finally, she extended a hand. Her fingers trembled. If he hadn’t been watching he might not have noticed the tiny crack in her smooth exterior. Van was good at bottling her emotions. Until she wasn’t, and then the explosion...

He’d experienced her anger and passion on several occasions. It was a sight to behold.

Her wide mouth tugged down at the corners, the hint of a frown.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out, her fingers slipping hesitantly over the spot where the vet had sewn up Kaia’s leg. The dog didn’t flinch or move, just sat quietly.

Van’s hand drifted upward, coming to rest on the fuzzy head. She looked straight into Kaia’s watchful gaze and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ty fought against the lump forming in his throat. He wanted to look away, but the motion of Van standing up pulled his attention back.

This time her gaze flicked over him quickly, there and away. She turned her back to him, tossing words over her shoulder. “I guess you should come in.”

* * *

VAN DIDN’T WANT him there. Didn’t want him in her home.

She didn’t bother to look back to see if he was following her inside. She didn’t have to. She knew.

Where Ty Colson was concerned, she had a sixth sense and always had. Growing up, he’d been a fixture in her family. Ryan had been his shadow, following his lead into whatever trouble the wild boy could dream up.

And, oh, Ty could dream up a shit-ton of trouble.

She’d been the annoying little sister relentlessly tagging along. The high-pitched voice of reason always cautioning that they were going to get caught and punished. Quick to say, “I told you so,” when her predictions came true.

But somewhere along the way, her childish fascination with him morphed into something more. An adolescent crush that made her feel awkward around the boy she’d known most of her life.

To her, Ty Colson was perfect. Adventurous. Wild and uninhibited. Remote to almost everyone...except her. There were times she’d envied the freedom he always had, even as she realized it meant no one at home cared enough to rein him in. She’d seen his wounds and wanted nothing more than to soothe them.

Until his antics got both boys in real trouble and sent her brother’s life careening off course.

Her simple, innocent attraction to him had gotten muddled up with resentment and blame. Not that those emotions had stemmed the physical awareness.

So damn frustrating.

Even now, Van could feel him, walking several paces behind her. She could sense the motion of his body as he tempered his gait to match the wounded dog at his side.

She couldn’t seem to turn off the relief she’d felt when he’d first walked up, her gaze devouring him, searching for signs of wear and injury. There’d been a pressure in her chest until she could see for herself that he was okay. Even as her brain told her she shouldn’t care.

God, what was wrong with her? Ty had gotten her brother killed. Maybe not directly, but he was responsible. Ryan never should have been in Afghanistan. Never should have become a dog handler, searching the unforgiving terrain for explosive devices just waiting to maim and kill.

Van walked straight back to the kitchen, which looked out onto the yard. When she was growing up, her family had always gathered in the kitchen. Now, in her own home, the kitchen gave her peace—it was the place she came to when she needed a break from the storm her life could be.

It was the only place where she felt like she could breathe deeply.

Out of the corner of her eye, she registered Ty standing in the middle of her doorway. Just there, watching, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. And that left her restless.

Needing something to do, Van lifted the mug of coffee she’d left on the counter when she’d heard Ty drive up and took a sip, making a face when she realized it had gone cold.

Nothing worse than cold coffee.

Dumping it out, she popped another pod into the machine, pushed the button and let it run.

This day was going to require copious amounts of caffeine.

Not only was she an emotional wreck, but she’d just gotten off back-to-back shifts at the hospital. They’d had a late-night trauma call, gunshot to the abdomen. The guy had coded on her table twice before finally stabilizing enough for them to transport him to surgery.

Even now, she had no idea if he’d made it or not. One of the downfalls of ER medicine. She patched them up, sent them either out the door or on to someone else and then rarely knew what happened next.

But the rush of saving someone’s life...worth every second of exhaustion.

While her coffee was brewing, Van reached into a cupboard and pulled down a bright turquoise Fiesta bowl. She filled it with water and placed it on the floor near the sink.

“Do you have food for her?” she asked.

There was no point in pleasantries with the man who’d sauntered closer and was now leaning against the edge of her kitchen island. Way too much history between them to bother.

“In the car. I’ll get it in a bit.”

The low timbre of his voice slipped across her skin, giving her goose bumps. He might as well have touched her, given the effect he had.

Dammit.

Clenching her teeth, Van turned. Better to get this over with.