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“I do. PTSD and traumas happen to all ages. I don’t see children under five except on special request.”
“You should be careful. You must understand how highly suspect it is that you were accosted twice in a town that isn’t yours.”
“Understood. Can we change the subject now, please?”
Her hopeful expression made him smile. “Of course. I apologize. I’m known as a barracuda in the courtroom, and I tend to forget I don’t need to sink my teeth into every issue.”
Dinner arrived, steam wafting off plates piled high with pasta and fragrant sauces. As they enjoyed their meal, Ryker shared his interests and tried to entice her to share hers. He recounted tales of his travels and the adrenaline rush he felt when skydiving. As he spoke, he could see the curiosity and admiration in Oakley’s eyes, igniting a warmth inside him that had been dormant for so long.
“Sounds like you’re quite the adventurer,” Oakley said with a playful smile. “I’ve always wanted to try skydiving, but haven’t worked up the courage yet.”
“Maybe I can help with that sometime,” Ryker offered, his eyes never leaving hers.
The woman was intelligent to a fault. Logic wouldn’t get her anywhere when there was an unbalanced person before her, and that fucking bothered him. After giving himself a pep talk that she wasn’t his, he found himself reciting; she isn’t yours, she isn’t yours. He was already thinking, what if she was?
“What safeguards do you employ?”
Oakley scrutinized Ryker briefly before putting down her fork and leaning forward slightly. “You aren’t going to let go of this, are you? It’s important to you.”
“Correct, and it should be important to you,” his demeanor was expectant.
She nodded. “I have taken self-defense classes, and I participate in an annual refresher course. I also have a panic button linked to my receptionist and building security. And before you suggest it, a weapon in my line of work could easily become a disaster.”
“Understood. Where is your panic button kept?”
“Where is it kept? My desk.”
“Won’t help there. You need to have it in your pocket or around your neck.”
“I think around my neck would be a bit obvious, wouldn’t it? And if I am trying to engender trust, that would scream distrust.”
“Not if it is part of a locket or something with the mechanism in the back of it.”
“They make those?”
“Jewelry? Yep. I can have one made with that and a tracking device so that not only would you be able to say you were in danger but also where you were.”
“That might have helped in the garage.”
“It would have indeed. So think about it. I can help find one for you. I have an inside track.”
“Ah, yes, your friends.”
He nodded. “My friends.”
“I’ll think about it.”
His mind went back to what he would absolutely require if she were his, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was going to be his. He would just bide his time and make the most of their connection here in Dallas. There was so much more he needed to know about her life.
It took a few moments for him to refocus on his dinner partner, and he was greeted by the sensual sounds of enjoyment that nearly had him climaxing. He shifted the subject back to the conference. It was time to change the direction of his thoughts. He reached over and poured her more wine as he asked a question.
“So, how did you end up specializing in treating veterans?” Ryker asked.
“And first responders. My father was career military, Army,” Oakley said. “I saw firsthand the challenges soldiers face when they return home and how little support there is for them. I wanted to help in any way I could. My brother is a policeman, and my sister is a dispatcher in a small community for both fire and police. When Dad retired, he moved over to volunteer firefighter, and so, as they say, the rest is history.”
“And the fostering?”
She smiled. “One of my passions. I do emergency placements, mostly. I don’t always have a roommate, but sometimes, I do. Another reason I try to stick with mostly adults but why I can’t turn down a youth dealing with trauma.”
