Page 23 of Operation Rescue
Blaine had a hard time picturing this man losing his cool that much. Not after seeing his utter unflappability under fire. But then, he was usually pretty calm himself.
Except with Erin.
“That lady you made it up with?” he guessed.
“Gets to me like no one else can,” Rafe admitted.
At the light sound of toenails on the floor Blaine looked around to see Cutter approaching. “That dog…” he began.
Rafe chuckled. “Let me guess. He stared you both down while you were…discussing.”
Blaine’s head came up sharply. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Because that’s one of his other skills.”
“What, he’s a…a peacekeeper?”
“That too, but he reads people, especially people who are—or should be—connected.”
“Connected?”
“You know what I mean,” Rafe said with a steady look.
He did know, but his gut shied away from that “should be” part. So he tried to focus on the dog, who stood there now, looking up at him with that same, assessing gaze. He had to admit, it was a bit unsettling.
“And,” Rafe added, “if he decides you need to be reconnected, you’d best listen to him.”
“You make him sound like a matchmaker or something.”
“I could tell you tales,” Rafe said, shaking his head as if he found it hard to believe his own words. “But personally, I’ve learned to take his advice. It has always paid off.”
“This is a dog we’re talking about, right?”
“Or an alien in a dog suit.”
Blaine stared at him. “Who are you and what have you done with the Rafe Crawford I used to know?”
Rafe laughed. “Nobody was a harder sell than me. But I’m telling you he knows. About humans who should be together, I mean. He corralled us and guarded the door until we talked it out. And when I tried to run—again—he stopped me. The hard way. Put me on my ass.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, from the most unfanciful guy he’d ever met, in uniform or out. Blaine shifted his gaze to the dog again. Those dark eyes, seemingly flecked with gold, sort of like that piece of amber he’d given Erin that she’d loved so much she’d had it made into a necklace, just stared at him. As if the admittedly clever animal could see down to his very soul.
And suddenly what Rafe had said didn’t sound quite so silly.
Erin came into the room from the kitchen, where she’d been tidying up. “Please,” she’d said when Rafe said he was used to cleaning up his own mess, “nobody ever cooks for me. Let me say thank you this way.”
“All right,” Rafe said with a nod. Then, with a glance at Blaine, he added, “We’ll be heading out momentarily.”
“I feel like I should go with you.”
The worry in her voice tugged at Blaine all over again. But Rafe said calmly, “Somebody needs to be here, both in case the police find something, or Ethan comes back.”
Her mouth—that lovely, soft mouth—twisted rather painfully. “I think I gave up on him just coming home.”
“He might reach out,” Blaine said, a little surprised at his own need to soothe her.
She looked from one to the other before saying suspiciously, “What’s the other reason you don’t want me to go with you?”
Blaine let out a tired breath. “You’ve already been to or talked to most of the people we’ll be reaching out to.”
