Still, he couldn’t help but think how Catriona was nothing like Stella or any type he’d hooked up with in the past. But he wasn’t the same man now that he’d been before leaving for Afghanistan. A moot point, really, since he wouldn’t be hooking up with Catriona or any woman. He had nothing to offer—in or out of bed. These days, he felt next to nothing, like someone had short-circuited his mainframe.
Given how raw he was today after the therapy session from hell, it would be best for all if he just hauled out of here. “No need to stop what you’re doing. I’ll get Harley and leave a check on the kitchen counter.”
He was a f**king coward.
“Really, it’s okay. I actually took some photos of the dogs, and there are some great shots of Harley.”
Shots.
Crap.
The word shot alone turned his cold sweat downright icy. “Pictures?”
He forced himself to act normal. To pretend.
“A video, too.” A smile lit her pretty hazel eyes. “That dog of yours is a real ham.”
“Thanks. But I should go. Long day”—with the shrink, then pounding a punching bag, trying like hell to get back to work again. To get his military career back on track.
He’d gone to The Citadel military college on a football scholarship, played quarterback. Was pretty much a rock star in his hometown, the golden boy with a bright future in the air force as a security cop.
He’d understood a Middle East deployment would come his way. He’d expected and embraced the opportunity. He’d realized it would be tough—he wasn’t delusional. Not then, anyway. He’d been prepped for the possibility of PTSD.
He’d just never really expected it to happen to him.
This fear that gripped his chest like a heart attack without warning. First time he’d heard fireworks after coming home, he’d damn near pissed himself.
Warrior strong?
Fuck.
She touched his arm lightly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He shook off the fog. How long had he been standing here, staring off into space? “We were talking about videos, right?”
“Exactly. Harley played in the pool to cool off, splashing like crazy. She’s dry now, though.” Her eyes narrowed too perceptively. “Would you like a cup of coffee before you head back out?”
“I just need to pick up my girl.” Something cold nailed the back of his calf just below his shorts. He jolted around hard and fast. Only a dog. A familiar blue pit bull. “Isn’t this one of Rachel’s?”
“Ruby Two. Right. Which is funny, since she’s blue. Both of Rachel’s new trainees are here.” She started toward the house, and he moved in step with her. “She took Disco with her when she stopped by early this morning.”
“Where did she go?” He scratched the tightness in his chest. He’d been planning to call Rachel, to talk about… his dog. The whole pet-therapy gig. Not that he totally bought into it. He just liked having a dog. Nothing more.
“Rachel didn’t say.” Catriona swung open a reinforced screen door leading onto an oversized porch. “Just that she needed some time away and paid for a week’s worth of sitting in advance, not that I ever worry about her settling up. I would give her the time for free in exchange for all the work she does.”
He looked fast, searching for signs she was digging at his problem. He found nothing in her eyes but more of the peace. What would she think of him if he spilled all his whacked-out conspiracy theories? But he kept his mouth shut. Dumping that on her wasn’t fair—hadn’t been fair to Rachel either, she’d just caught him in a weak moment. Once he had his feet on solid ground again, he would get to the root of what he’d heard, find those responsible, and nail their asses to the wall.
For now, he had to bide his time and get his head on straight.
Catriona scratched Tabitha’s head between ears that had been cropped with scissors before the Argentine Dogo been rescued from a Miami street gang. The gentle glide of her fingers against the sleek white fur seemed so damn soothing. “Thank goodness Rachel decided to get away, though, or she could have been hurt in that explosion.”
He looked up fast to her face. “What did you just say?”
“The explosion, it was on Rachel’s block. I thought I mentioned that earlier. Sorry, I’m so used to hanging out with the pooches, I lose some of my people skills.”
She communicated just fine. More likely she’d told him while he was in his fog state. “There’s a fire in Rachel’s neighborhood?”
His mind started racing. This couldn’t be coincidental.