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Faith’s hand went out to touch Fred’s head and he got down from the fence and sat by her side, but Sawyer could see the dog still wanted attention from him.
“He’s normally more well-behaved,” she said.
“He’s extremely well-behaved and trained,” he said. “Maybe almost as much as one of our K-9s.”
“Not likely,” she said.
“Did you train him yourself?” he asked. He was trying to think of anything he could to keep talking to her.
“I did,” she said. “It’s not hard. Just takes time and a little work. I’ve never shied away from work. Though poor Fred has missed his walks.”
“Because of your hands?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t always come here with him. Just on the weekends. During the week I walk him around the development or just outside it. But holding onto the leash was a little too painful for the first week.”
He cringed. Surprisingly he was almost going to say if he’d known he would have come to do it and wasn’t sure why he would offer that.
“He’s not trained enough to be off the leash?” he asked. “I find that hard to believe he wouldn’t stay by your side.”
“I believe there might be a law or something that doesn’t allow me to let Fred just wander loose,” she said, grinning.
“Maybe something like that,” he said, laughing. His phone went off and he pulled it out of the pocket of his jacket, saw the reminder that he had to go to his grandmother’s and cursed under his breath.
“Everything okay?” she asked. “You swore?”
“Sorry. It was just a reminder to go see my grandmother this morning when I’m done.”
“Do you need a reminder because you forget or are so busy?” she asked.
He felt the flush on his face. “No. I tend to be organized and never want that to happen. But I can get called away with work and have no choice. So I put everything into my calendar just in case work pulls me in, then I can go back and see what happened in my life I didn’t do. My partner says I’m OCD.”
Some of it might have had to do with any woman he dated in the past who would get pissed off if he missed or forgot something because of work.
“My friends and family say the same about me. I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”
“No,” he said. Maybe he always wanted to be responsible because his mother was the furthest thing from that. His father at times could be considered not responsible either.
Or maybe his father was just more ruled by his heart rather than his head.
Sawyer had always let his head make the decisions, never his heart. Emotions had no place in his life.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked. “You said you wear gloves? And your brother is a cook, right? Got any cookies left?”
She laughed. “Actually those are all gone, but Liam’s wife, Margo, brought me some of a pie she tried the other day to bring for Christmas this year. She’s a chef too.”
“Lucky you,” he said. “Or is that a family trait and you do it too?”
“Not me,” she said. “Nothing more than the normal cooking or baking someone does. I’m a pathologist assistant.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve got to know what a pathologist does? You know, being a detective and all, you need skin and cells and DNA tests run for your cases.”
“Of course I know what a pathologist is,” he said. “It’s a doctor.”
“That’s right,” she said. “This is like the step before that. I didn’t want to go to medical school. I’ve got my Masters and all sorts of training and certificates. I work in a hospital under a pathologist.”
“You don’t look nerdy to me,” he said.
