Page 7 of Groomed For Love


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Can’t remember the last time I even looked at a woman, let alone felt like this.

Moose whines and tugs at his leash again in the stairwell, his neck craning back in the direction of her apartment.

“C’mon buddy,” I reason with him, looking down knowing just how he feels.

Knowing his instinct is one I trust more than my own, but today I know we’re both right.

I try to command him to come with me, but he’s not having it.

He slips his leash, something I know most dogs can do if they really want, but it’s something he’s never done with me either.

Taking off up the stairs again, there’s only one place I know he’s going.

I give a sigh of frustration, but also have to hand it to Moose. Sometimes he’ll give me a push in his own special way.

Jogging after him, back up to her floor, I hear the muffled sound of raised voices.

Male and then female.

Moose barks and I shift into action. My own training kicking in within a split second.

My first concern is that it’s Naomi. My second is for my partner and buddy, Moose.

There’s always an unpleasant rush of adrenalin when he runs off ahead of me, putting himself in the firing line first.

Moving into the hallway I reach for the holster I’m not wearing.

Technically I’m off duty, my uniform and gun belt are in my locker at the precinct. A carbon copy of all of it in my house, in case of an emergency.

Right now I have my badge, and I have a Moose.

I also have a fucking good reason to step in when I hear Naomi’s shrill voice and the figure of a male in her apartment doorway, grabbing at her wrist.

Moose is lunging for the assailant, and I’m not gonna give him the command not to. Nor do I stop him once he has a hold of the guy by the arm.

Naomi screams and covers her mouth with both hands, almost falling back into her apartment.

I identify myself to her attacker and in a second, I’ve joined Moose in pinning him to the ground.

The guy’s no muscle head, but he is heavy. I command Moose to release and he does, reluctantly, planting his growling jaw right in the guy’s eyes but it doesn’t have the desired effect.

This guy’s wound up on something and he still has some fight in him.

I see the flash of a small steel blade when his bloody arm slips from my grip momentarily, and it streaks across my field of vision until I hear Moose’s jaw snap tight on the offender’s wrist.

He screams in agony and I flip him like a burger, hog tying him with cable tie cuffs I always carry.

But the knife, the guy. They’re not what has me worried.

It’s Naomi I care about.

Moose can handle himself, and he stands guard over our suspect as I rush to Naomi, who throws herself into my arms.

It’s the best feeling in the world, I only wish it could be under better, safer circumstances.

“Are you okay?” I ask her firmly, enjoying her touch like nothing else but needing to know she’s unhurt. Needing to know I have her safe now.

“Are you injured?” I ask her again louder this time, holding her at arm’s length as I ask, scanning her sweet body for any sign of injury.

She shakes her head quickly, her lower lip trembling and against all my training. Against every instinct as a cop, I hug her.

A proper, full body hug that sees every part of me pressed into every part of her.

My instinct as a man to hold her and protect her winning out.

I am off duty after all.

Feeling both her hands move up my chest, clawing into me as I hold her tighter, they move back down to my waist and she grips me as hard as she can, her own chest pressed into me and giving me that familiar pressure in my pants.

“I should never have left,” I murmur, stroking her hair back and looking down at her.

“Moose never wanted to go. I should’ve trusted his judgment,” I remind myself.

The rasping, growling voice speaks up at me from the floor.

“You done smooching, asshole? You’ve made a big fucking mistake here, and once I get my lawyer you’re gonna be in a world of pain,” The perp snarls, struggling to be heard over Moose, whose snarling right back at him before letting out a deep bark that silences him.

I kneel down, praising Moose and flipping my badge to what already looks like an hour or two of paperwork.

“Officer Parker, K9 unit. You’re under arrest for assault, resisting arrest, and aggravated assault against a police officer… And that’s just what I can think of right now,” I add, promising there’s plenty more where that came from.

“You don’t get it do you?” he spits. “I own this fucking building. You’re trespassing, and I’m trying to evict this bitch of a tenant… You’re gonna look like a fucking moron if you don’t-”

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