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“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Her fingers snapped the Scotch tape securing the sides.
“I wanted to.”
Amy lifted the top and peered inside. Her eyes widened. Tossing the lid to the floor, she reached for her present. “You got me a compression sleeve?”
“To help with the bite work.” Mark shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. Out of the corner of her eye—it was impossible to entirely tear her gaze away from her present—she saw Mar
k’s expression lit with excitement, as if he’d been worried she wouldn’t like the gesture.
“I dragged T.J. along, and he said this was the best brand on the market and one of the few with a model made for women.” He pointed to the portion designed to protect her upper arm. “This part is solid, but the sleeve has room for movement. There’s a handle inside, and...do you want to try it on?”
“Yes.” She turned the training tool over in her hands. She’d planned to order one at some point, but there had been so many things to purchase for the kennel that she’d put it off.
Mark moved to her side and waited for her to hand over her gift. She complied, holding out her right arm. He slipped it on, and her hand found the handle inside. The large padded area extending from her forearm formed a triangular point perfect for training a dog to bite. It was big enough to force the pup to open his mouth wide, but also had some give, allowing the animal to hold on.
While Amy turned it, admired the fit, which was perfect for her smaller frame, Mark reached into the box and withdrew two white cloth covers.
“T.J. recommended these. One for the puppies and one for the adult dogs. The thicker one can be too hard for a young dog to hold on to.”
She ran her hands over both, feeling the differences in the fabric. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she admitted.
“So, you like it? Better than roses?”
Looking up at him, something inside her melted. And she had a sinking feeling it was her resolve. His gift spoke directly to who she was and what was important to her. It said I understand you in a way that roses never could.
“This is so much better than flowers,” she said softly. “But you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”
“Facing Luke and T.J., trying to explain what we’re doing together, something became clear to me.”
Her grip tightened on the protective sleeve. It looked like a piece of armor, a protective barrier against attack. Too bad it didn’t cover her heart, because right now that was the most vulnerable part of her body.
“Any man who comes into your life should treasure you. Romance you. You’re special, Amelia Mae.”
“Mark, please.” She needed him to stop before he said too much. “I don’t want to be romanced. I just need...”
Mark. But she wanted him here. With her.
He brushed his fingers across her cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear. “You mean so much to me, Amy. And after what happened earlier, I felt you should know.”
His lips touched hers, kissing her softly. She closed her eyes, knowing she should step back. They needed to talk. She had to explain that she couldn’t break rule number four.
But then his hands held her head, deepening the kiss. She gave in, taking everything he offered. It was selfish, but she took the kiss, needing his touch.
Hips pressed against him, she felt his thigh vibrate. It ended and then started again. Reluctantly, he released her, withdrawing his phone and checking the screen.
“I need to take this.” Mark moved toward the hall as he offered the person on the other end a curt greeting.
Amy slipped her arm out of the sleeve, gently setting it down in the box. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her. How many men would stand up to the Benton brothers, offer her gifts that brought her closer to making her dream for these puppies a reality, and then kiss her senseless? Maybe she was making a big mistake clinging to her rules. Maybe—
“Amy.”
She turned around and saw Mark standing in the entryway to the kitchen. The muscles in his jaw were tight. There was no sign of the smiling man who’d driven all over Oregon to buy her a present. This man was determined and tense, every inch a warrior.
“That was my commanding officer. They have asked me to return to base. They need me back in Afghanistan.”
20
AMY STEPPED BACK, reaching behind her for the table’s edge, needing the hard surface to keep her upright and balanced.
