Interference, p.19
Interference, page 19
“No, it’s okay.” I petted Lily’s neck. “If you don’t mind my asking, did you have a bad experience with a dog?”
She nodded, laughing self-consciously. “My grandparents’ dog when I was growing up. He was really aggressive and loud.” She chafed her arms. “Scared the hell out of me.”
I winced. “That’ll do it.”
“Yeah. And almost all the guys have dogs, so whenever we come to things like this…” She gestured toward the house and scowled. “They’re all super sweet about penning up their dogs when I come over, but I hate doing that to them, you know? I know they’re part of the family.” She chafed her arms again. “They just scare me, and I really, really want to get over that.”
“Okay. Well, she’s about as mellow as they come.”
“That’s a job requirement, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “It is. She has to be able to focus on me and react when I need her to.”
Monica’s eyes flicked up to me. “If, um… If you don’t mind my asking…”
“What’s her job?”
She nodded shyly. “I… don’t want to be intrusive. It’s just kind of fascinating, the things service dogs can do. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s all right. She’s a PTSD dog.”
Monica sat up a little. “Oh.”
“It’s… I did a few combat tours. So she helps when I have panic attacks or night terrors.”
She shifted her gaze back to Lily, who was resting her head on my leg. “And that—it makes a difference? It helps you?”
“Like nothing else.” I patted Lily’s back, which got her long tail wagging. “There was a learning curve to working with her, but once we found our groove, it was like night and day.”
“Wow,” Monica murmured. We were both silent for a moment. She was still uneasy, but she’d relaxed a little since she’d come outside. Though she was watching Lily, her expression and body language were starting to tilt toward curiosity.
Cautiously, I offered, “Would it help if you could pet her?”
She bit her lip. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I don’t want to interrupt her when she’s working.”
“I can take off her vest. She knows she’s off-duty if I do.”
Monica raised her eyebrows. “You can do that?”
I nodded. “I don’t usually do it when we’re out and about, but a few minutes is fine.” Yeah, I wasn’t going to be in the running for Service Dog Handler of the Year, and Lily’s trainer would probably have words with me about some of the things I did. Hopefully even she could understand the pros and cons of this situation. To Monica, I said, “It’s up to you.”
She shifted a little, pushing her shoulders back as if she were steeling herself. “Is it true they can sense fear?”
“They can,” I acknowledged. “But she’s not aggressive. The ‘worst’ thing I can imagine her doing is alerting on you like she does on me.”
Monica turned wide eyes on me. “How does she do that?”
“She’ll nudge my hand or lean on my leg. If I’m really wound up, she’ll put her paws in my lap and lean against my chest.”
Monica squirmed. “I think that would make me more scared.”
“Because a dog jumping on you is a trigger. For me, it pulls my focus away from my trigger, and when she leans on me, it’s…” I pursed my lips. “I can’t remember how the trainer explained it, but the pressure of her body and her paws is soothing in a primal way.”
“So… like when a cat climbs on your chest and kneads?”
“Probably? I’ve never had a cat.” I chuckled, nodding toward the house. “I think if one of Anthony—Aussie’s cats ever climbed on my chest, I’d suffocate.”
A laugh burst out of her, which seemed to relax her minutely. “They’re pretty big.”
“Right?” I ran my thumb down one of Lily’s long ears. “So that’s the only thing she might do if she senses fear or anxiety. But she’s also trained to zero in on me. I’ve seen other people get agitated or upset when she’s around, and she completely ignores them. That’s probably what she’ll do with you, too.” I nodded down at her. “Notice how she hasn’t alerted on you this whole time.”
“Oh.” Monica wrung her hands in her lap. “That’s… That’s true.” She watched Lily for a moment, then quietly said, “I’d… like to try petting her? Will it upset her if I jump?”
“Nah. She’s used to me having flashbacks and nightmares. You’ll be fine.” I unbuckled the service dog vest and slipped it off. “Lily, stand down.”
She shook herself, then looked up at me, panting happily and wagging her tail.
“Good girl.” I tousled her ears. To Monica, I said, “Just let her come to you. Don’t reach for her or anything—let her sniff you, and she’ll let you know when she wants you to pet her.”
Monica stiffened. “Don’t reach for her? I thought I was supposed to let them sniff my fingers.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s kind of like shoving your hand in a person’s face. It makes them tense. She’ll let you know.” I smiled. “Trust me, you’ll know when she wants to be petted, and she definitely will.”
Monica nodded.
I gave Lily’s leash some slack. She looked around, taking in her environment like she often did when she was off duty and could pull her focus away from me. She was always in tune to me, and if I needed her, she’d be right back at my side even when she wasn’t on duty, but without her vest and with the stand-down command, she could just be a dog for a few minutes.
For a moment, she checked out our surroundings—happily sniffing the ground, a couple of flowerpots, and a rock. In no time, though, she zeroed in on Monica. Ears and tail up, she approached. She sniffed Monica’s shoe, then her knee, then looked up at her and started panting, wagging her tail even more. She sat down and put up her paw.
Monica tensed a little. “Does that… Can I…?”
“Go ahead.” I smiled. “Pet her neck and shoulder. And she might jump up, but if she does, she’s just being really friendly.”
Lily was way too well-trained for that. Despite what everyone in the house thought they’d seen, she never jumped up unless she was alerting. But she was still an animal, and it never hurt to give someone a heads up. Especially someone who was this afraid of dogs.
Monica tentatively reached for Lily’s neck. As soon as she started petting her, Lily leaned against her leg, tail thumping hard on the deck. Monica glanced uncertainly at me. Right then, Lily slurped her hand. Monica jumped, but she laughed and wiped her hand on her jeans. “She really is a sweetheart, isn’t she?”
“She’s amazing.” I almost started rambling about what a lifesaver Lily had been. How she’d come into my world when it was incredibly dark, and when everything had turned a whole lot darker, she’d often been the only thing to keep me going. There’d been more than a few periods where the only thing stopping me from slipping into complete nihilism had been the drive to take care of her.
But I kept all of that to myself. I didn’t want to trauma dump on this total stranger, especially not when she was trying to overcome a deep-seated fear. Monica had clearly had to psych herself up for this, and she was making a hell of a breakthrough. The last thing she needed was me to ruin it by awkwardly spilling my life story.
So I just watched the two of them interact, and I quietly let the moment be.
Chapter 17
Anthony
I was on my way through the kitchen to grab sodas for me and Chip, and I paused to check in on Wyatt. At first, I couldn’t find him, which made me nervous. Was he all right? Had the crowd bothered him more than he’d expected?
But then I found him, and I halted, staring out the sliding glass door.
He was sitting on the deck, and so was Young’s wife, Monica.
And Monica… was petting Lily.
My jaw went slack. I wasn’t at all surprised that Lily was being sweet and gentle with her, wagging her tail and panting happily. But everyone knew Monica was terrified of dogs. That she was petting a dog—especially one that was a breed a lot of people were afraid of—blew my mind.
I glanced into the kitchen, where Young was opening himself another beer. “Hey, Young?” I gestured at the slider. “Have you seen this?”
“Seen what?” He stepped out of the kitchen and looked in the direction I’d indicated, and he almost choked on his beer. “Is she…” He blinked. “Is she… petting a dog?”
“Looks like it, yeah.”
He stared for a moment, his eyes huge and his jaw hanging open. I even thought he might’ve been getting a little misty-eyed, but before I could be sure, he opened the slider. Both Wyatt and Monica turned, though Lily stayed focused on Monica.
“Honey, are you petting a dog?” Young sounded absolutely awestruck as he stepped outside.
She actually giggled, tousling Lily’s ears. “Yeah! She’s so sweet!”
“But she’s…” Young shook himself, and he laughed. Not like he was making fun of her, but like he was just so overcome with disbelief at what he was seeing. “How did you even…”
As I joined them on the deck and shut the door behind me, she excitedly explained that she’d asked Wyatt if she could sit near Lily. “Then he asked if I wanted to pet her, and…” She beamed as she scratched behind Lily’s floppy ear. “I feel kind of stupid for being this scared. She’s so gentle.”
Young sat down beside her and kissed her cheek. “You had a bad experience. It’s okay to be scared after that.”
“I know, but she’s… I mean, look at her.”
Young started to reach for Lily but hesitated. “Is it… Can I?”
“Yeah, sure.” Wyatt nodded. “She loves people.”
As Monica and Young petted Lily, Wyatt met my gaze with the softest, most relaxed expression I’d seen since I’d met him. As if right here, right now, with Lily helping someone past her fears and two people fawning over his dog, everything was right in his world.
You should feel like this all the time.
A sudden surge of emotion caught me by surprise, but I tamped it down. This wasn’t the time or place. I didn’t even know why I was reacting so strongly. Maybe because I was wound so tight thanks to all this tension with Simon. Playing happy boyfriends today had me on that hair trigger where a particularly cute TV commercial or a damn romcom could have me in tears, and I was not someone who cried easily.
God, I’m a mess.
And… God, Wyatt really should be this happy and chill all the time.
I quietly cleared my throat as I shifted my gaze to Monica. She seemed so excited, she was almost giggling as she petted Lily. I suspected this wouldn’t be a magic cure-all for her. That fear had kept her wary of dogs all her life, and even a breakthrough like this didn’t necessarily mean she’d be comfortable with all dogs all the time. She might even be hesitant about Lily if they crossed paths again down the line.
I knew someone who’d been terrified to ice skate after taking a bad fall. It had taken him years to try again, and when he finally did, it had been all anyone could do to get him off the ice. He’d been so happy to be on skates again, so relieved and giddy just like Monica was right now. When he’d tried to do it again a week or so later—after all his muscles had forgiven him—he’d been surprised it wasn’t as easy this time. He’d had to mentally work up to it again. It was easier than the years of fear and trying to prepare himself for it, and it certainly didn’t take as long, but it was still a process. If I remembered right, it took a good six months before he could easily pull on some skates and hit the ice without all his fears coming back.
Maybe Monica would have to do the same with dogs. Or maybe this really was the one-time breakthrough she needed. Either way, this had to be a huge, positive step for her, and I hoped it wasn’t the last.
After a while, she pushed out a breath. “Thank you, Lily.” She patted the dog’s neck, then smiled at Wyatt. “And thank you.”
He returned the smile. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad it helped.”
“You bet it did.” Young put a hand on his wife’s back as he extended the other to Wyatt. “I really appreciate this, man.”
Wyatt just smiled and shook his hand.
“We’ve, um… We’ve taken up enough of your time, and she needs to get back to work.” Monica cleared her throat and told her husband, “We should probably check on the girls.”
He nodded, and after they both profusely thanked Wyatt again, Monica and Young disappeared into the house, and I turned to Wyatt. “I thought people weren’t supposed to pet service dogs.”
“They’re not.” He picked up Lily’s vest and started putting it back on her. “But she asked if she could sit near her and try to just be around a dog without freaking out. I offered to let Lily come over to her, and…” He half-shrugged, offering up a sweet smile. “They clicked.”
“And that won’t hurt her training?”
“Well, don’t tell her trainer.”
I put my finger to my lips, and I was rewarded with a laugh that shouldn’t have made my spine tingle like that.
How have I not noticed how fucking gorgeous you are?
Ooh, hell, that is not a train of thought I need to be riding today. Not here.
I quickly abandoned it, and I gestured toward the house. “You coming back in?”
“Yeah.” He got up, and with Lily at his side, we headed into the house.
As soon as we got inside, there was a loud crack of a puck hitting the garage wall, followed immediately by a jingle of dog tags.
I looked over my shoulder to see Wyatt petting Lily’s head, his easygoing expression replaced by wariness not unlike what I’d have expected to see from Monica around Lily. Alarm shot through me. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m—”
Another puck hit the wall, and the guys in the other room laughed uproariously.
Wyatt swallowed. Then he shook himself and breathed the ghost of a laugh as some color rose in his face. “I know what it is. I’m not, like, scared of it. But sudden noises…”
“Oh. Shit.”
He chewed his lip. “It, um… It might be easier if I’m in the same room. If I can see what it is, you know?” The red in his cheeks deepened. “I mean, I know what it is. But if I can see it…”
“Sure.” I motioned for him to follow me. He did, and I led him into the garage. Several of my teammates sat and stood around, sodas and beers in hand as they heckled Chip, who was lining up a shot at the net. I called out, “Oh, now I see why we kept hearing them hit the wall. Chip’s shooting.”
“Fuck you, Aussie,” Chip said over his shoulder and the roar of laughter and chirping.
Simon was against the far wall, leaning on his stick, and he glanced my way. Then his gaze darted past me, and his expression faltered, lips tightening and eyes narrowing slightly. With what I thought was a sharp sigh, he reached for his beer and took a deep swallow.
I gritted my teeth. Whatever his issue was with Wyatt, he needed to get the hell over it, because it was seriously getting old.
We stood and watched for a few minutes as some of the guys took their shots. I eventually ended up with a stick in my hand, and I was pleased that three of my four pucks went in. That second one would’ve gone in, too, if D’Angelo hadn’t tickled my inner thigh with his stick at just the right moment.
“Watch it, fucker.” I pointed my stick at him. “I swear to God, I’ll do that when you’re on the faceoff dot.”
“I’ve been trying to get you to do it in the locker room for two years,” he threw back. “No one picks up on subtle flirting anymore.”
“Ooh, right.” I gave an exaggerated nod. “I forgot straight guys don’t know how to flirt.”
“Pfft. Whatever. You gonna hit that puck or not?”
I did, and after it went in, I looked at Wyatt, who’d been quietly watching with an amused grin. I raised my eyebrows. “You want to give it a try?”
Wyatt eyed the stick in my hand, but then he shrugged. “You’ll have to show me how.”
“Sure. Are you right- or left-handed?”
“Left.”
I hesitated. “Hmm.” I looked around. “Hey, Harju? Can I borrow your stick?”
“We’ve been through this, Aussie,” he deadpanned. “I don’t swing that way.”
“I don’t swing your way either. I meant your hockey stick.”
“What do you mean, you don’t swing his way?” Chip smacked me with his own stick. “You’re into dudes, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” I nodded sharply. “Hot dudes.”
The laughter that rose was almost deafening. Hell, even Simon joined in. Harju scowled. “Oh, fuck you!” But he did hand me his stick.
When I turned to Wyatt, I almost dropped the stick in question. Fuck. When had his smile started making me trip over my own feet?
I recovered, though, and quickly enough that I didn’t think anyone—including Wyatt and hopefully Simon—noticed. I gave Wyatt a quick lesson in holding a hockey stick and shooting with it. Of course, the peanut gallery had to offer their advice and override everything I said.
“Out of the way, Aussie.” D’Angelo smacked me in the chest. “Don’t let a defenseman do a forward’s job.”
I huffed. “Your mom didn’t mind letting a defenseman tap in.”
That got me a stick across the shins, which I richly deserved. D’Angelo was laughing, though; we all knew where the lines were with the shit-talking.
D’Angelo helped Wyatt figure out how to maneuver the stick, and then he dropped a puck on the floor for him. Wyatt glanced down at Lily, probably to make sure he knew exactly where she was and didn’t hit her. Then he took the shot. It hit the wall, which everyone probably expected. He jumped a little, but not like he had out in the living room.
His second shot went straight into the goal, and he beamed. “Oh, hey. This is easy. Why the hell do you guys get paid so much for it?”
“Put on some skates and let one of us body slam you,” Chip suggested. “Then we’ll see who’s talking a big game.”
Wyatt pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds kinda hot to me.”
