Page 22 of Every Little Kiss
Liv braced herself as Bullseye, stick in his mouth, his sights locked on the pretty yellow sundress, charged up the beach with no intentions of slowing down.
“Sit,” Ford said right before Bullseye would have lunged through the air and onto his new friend. Good boy that he was, Bullseye did as he was told, except the wet stick hit the ground, sending water and sand everywhere.
Bullseye looked at the stick, then up to Liv, his tongue panting in anticipation.
“First apologize to the lady for getting her dress wet.” He gave a signal with his hand. “Then I’ll throw the stick.”
Bullseye lowered his head and nudged at her thigh with his nose in apology.
“It’s okay, you were excited.” She gave his head a pat. Lucky dog. “He was so obedient with my son. How long did it take to train him?”
“Two years.”
Her eyes went wide. “That’s a long time.”
“Not for a search dog.”
Understanding filled those pretty eyes. “He works with you, then?”
“Every day.” Ford picked up the stick and threw it in the water. “Bullseye is a special dog with a lot of special gifts. But it took two years of intense training to get him ready for the field.”
Bullseye swan-dived into the lake with all the grace of a rhino, and she laughed. “How do you know which ones are special?”
Ford watched the sun reflect off her hair, casting a soft glow around her, and said, “I know it when I see it.”
