Page 12 of Operation Rescue
Erin had thought she had braced herself. And maybe she had, but it just wasn’t enough. Maybe nothing would have been enough. Maybe there was no way she could prepare for the kind of impact Blaine Everett had always had on her.
The moment she opened the door and saw him, saw those deep blue eyes that used to take her breath away when he smiled at her, it was as if her world, her carefully constructed world, slammed to a halt in an instant.
Now he didn’t even have to smile at her—as if he ever would again. All he had to do was exist, and she felt as if she had to concentrate on the simple matter of keeping her heart beating and her breath going.
He’d changed, a little, but he hadn’t gotten any less beautiful, to her. It wasn’t just his eyes, although they had always been enough to disrupt her pulse. He still topped her own five foot six by five inches, he still had that lean, wiry build that sometimes made people think he might be less strong than he actually was, still had that thick, dark brown hair that now wasn’t quite as short as she was used to, and she sillily remembered how he used to say longer hair was a pain under a flight helmet. There was also the faintest touch of silver at the temples, new since she’d last seen him, and she wondered how much of that was from what he’d gone through. Or what she’d put him through.
Sure, because it’s all about you.
She abruptly realized he wasn’t alone.
Not only was there another man with him, there was a dog.
But the man with him was standing back several feet, as if he wanted to give them privacy to deal with this…awkward moment. And the dog was sitting at the other man’s feet, looking at her, but not making a move. Well-trained, she thought, rather inanely. And the man was familiar. She’d seen him before, but—
“This is Rafe Crawford. He’s the guy I pulled out on that last mission before the—”
“I remember,” she said, before he could mention the crash that had eventually ended everything.
And she did remember, since Blaine had been given a medal for that rescue he’d single-handedly pulled off under fire. And she’d proudly been there when it was presented, having put her shivering, weak-kneed fear behind her. Again. Until the next time. It was lucky she’d only heard about most of his heroics after the fact, because if she’d known while it was happening she probably would have cut and run much sooner.
She also remembered how, when she’d first started dating, her mother had spent a lot of time telling her to never fall for a liar, a cheater, a pushy salesman or a politician. She’d teased back, asking if they weren’t all the same thing.
What her mother hadn’t told her was to never fall for a hero.
But then, she already had done that, at about age seven, when Blaine Everett had moved in across the street. True, they’d both tried being with other people while in high school, mostly at the prompting of both sets of parents, but later, when they were back together, they’d both admitted they’d known it would never work, because they were meant to be.
But that was before she’d had to face the bitter truth of her own lack of courage. Spoiled, that was what she was. Spoiled and needing a life without risk, without danger, without loss.
And now you may have lost the only thing that’s kept you going all this time. Your son.
Blaine’s son.
“And you came to the hospital, too, I remember,” she said belatedly to the other man. “I’m sorry, come in.”
She had been cleaning madly ever since he’d said he was coming. Not that her place was ever dirty or even untidy, but it was all part of proving she was doing fine without him. A lie she almost had herself believing before she’d walked into Ethan’s room and found it empty.
She stole a glance at the tall, rangy man who followed Blaine inside. He had that same look she remembered from when he’d visited Blaine in the hospital and then rehab, that look of having seen a lot and too much of it bad. But at the same time there was a glint in those eyes and in his expression that…lightened it somehow. As if he was someone who’d gotten through it all in one piece, despite the injury she knew had been quite severe. Not as bad as Blaine’s, and only his leg, but that was just degrees of hell.
Something brushed her knees. She looked down to see the dog who had come in with Rafe. She’d never had a dog as a kid—her mother was a cat person—and later it had never seemed fair when they were transferred so often. This one was interestingly colored, black fur over his head and down to his shoulders, where it transitioned to tan with a tinge of what in a person she’d call auburn. He didn’t look like the traditional military dogs she’d seen over the years, but might if he didn’t have all that soft, fluffy fur.
As she looked at him, he sat at her feet.
“This is Cutter,” Rafe said, his voice oddly quiet, almost gentle. “He belongs to my boss, but he’s here to help.”
Help? Was he some kind of tracking dog? That was silly, how would that help after all this time? Maybe if they found someplace Ethan had been recently. But there was something in the way the dog looked up at her, those dark eyes fastened on her face. No, there were flecks of color in those eyes, like amber, or gold. Then he leaned into her, looking up almost pleadingly.
“That’s his ‘please pet me’ expression,” Rafe said.
That seemed so out of character for…well, both men standing here, she couldn’t help but smile. And she reached down to stroke the animal’s dark head.
Her hand stopped before she’d finished the first stroke. What on earth? She stared down at the dog as she moved her hand again, then lifted it to start the movement anew.
It was real. She didn’t know what it was or what to call it, but she could not deny the strange sense of warmth and peace and calm that practically flowed into her. And several long moments passed before she could pull her hand back. She looked up at Rafe.
“Is he a therapy dog?”
“He’s had some training in that, yes,” Rafe said. “Among a ton of other things. Including mind reading, emotion reading, bad guy reading…”
