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“How’s the job?” I asked as I picked up a menu, even though I ordered the same thing every time.
Simon inhaled slowly, then exhaled at the same pace. “Good as can be expected, I guess.”
He’d been medically discharged due to his physical injuries, which had left him with a permanent limp from a shattered hipbone and some vision loss. But his technical skills were highly valued, so I’d encouraged him to apply for a civilian position on the base.
“Still having episodes?”
Simon nodded but remained quiet on the subject as our server approached. We ordered, and when we were alone again, Simon replied, “The night terrors are bad, so I don’t sleep well, then I’m tired at work and more prone to anxiety attacks in certain situations.”
I frowned, concerned and frustrated that I couldn’t be of more help to him. After eight weeks in a cast, I’d just recently graduated to a mobile brace, but it still hampered my movement. If he were to have an episode that caused him to violently lash out, I wouldn’t be able to duck and cover fast enough. And histherapist didn’t want anyone becoming a crutch, which made sense, even if it was hard to swallow.
“Dr. Kemp thinks a PTSD service dog will help.”
Our food arrived, and I waited until the server left before commenting. “I’ve read about them. The research on their ability to help veterans and first responders shows a high degree of success in reducing symptoms.” I’d always loved animals and had several dogs growing up. So when I heard about these dogs specifically trained for mental health assistance, I watched a documentary about them. Unfortunately, I’d had a lot of time on my hands lately.
“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Simon shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich.
“I think it might be just what you need.”
We talked through our meal, mostly about random shit, anything that took our minds off our current predicaments. But after we paid the bill and stood to leave, Simon cleared his throat, making me stop and give him my attention.
“I was wondering if you had time to take me to the facility. I have an appointment to start the pairing process.”
Simon hadn’t been cleared to drive yet, so he walked wherever he could and used a transport van to get him places like work that were too far to hoof it. Though he clearly hated it, his only other option was to ask a friend.
“Of course I will, jackass,” I grunted. “Stop acting like a pussy and get over it.”
His lips turned up at the corners, and he shook his head. “Yes, sir.”
I rolled my eyes and led the way out to my heavy-duty pickup where we both climbed in—not a particularly easy task with the brace—and buckled up. Simon entered the address into my GPS, and we pulled into the parking lot of a training and care facility twenty minutes later.
Cursing at my hampered mobility, I carefully exited the truck so I wouldn’t land hard on my feet and end up on my ass if my leg gave out. I waited for Simon at the curb, then locked the doors and followed him inside.
The lobby walls were covered with posters about service dogs, and it had a warm, inviting atmosphere. A middle-aged woman sat behind the large desk next to the only other door in the room. She typed on her computer but looked up with a smile as we entered.
“Can I help you?”
Simon stepped forward and handed her a stack of paperwork. She quickly scanned it, then smiled again. “I’ll need to enter all of this into the system, but our best trainer, Annalise, will be right with you. She’ll explain the matching process, and we’ll get you started as soon as I’ve verified your information. You can go ahead through the door and wait for her in the second room on the right.”
We thanked her, then I trailed my friend, but when we passed the first room, I glanced inside and froze in my tracks. The most perfect ass I’d ever seen was on full display as the woman it belonged to was bent over feeding a treat to a dog. My cock made an effort to stand at attention, but my jeans mostly hid my hard-on.
When she straightened back up, my eyes were drawn to her legs. She wore jeans, but they didn’t hide how toned they were, and even though she was of average height, they looked miles long.
Someone called out, and she pivoted around. Her silky-looking chestnut ponytail swung, showing off a slender neck. She had an athletic build, but her tits were full and her curves were mouthwatering. Her face was heart-shaped, with high cheekbones, big green eyes, and a plush mouth. Those lips inspired all manner of dirty thoughts.
“See you later, kid,” said a man who bore a significant resemblance to my girl—the girl—called out. An older man, who shared the same features, smiled and lifted his chin at her.
She blew a kiss their way, and a surge of jealousy shot through my veins, shocking the shit out of me. Thankfully, the feeling receded when they left out of a side door. But my dick refused to back down, and since I’d made the mistake of going commando, the hard length pressed hard against my zipper causing the metal teeth to dig into the sensitive skin.
The woman turned back to the dog and said something before giving its ears a scratch, then it trotted off to lay in a bed. When she did an about-face, she spotted me, and her eyes went wide as her perfect mouth formed a little O.
We stared at each other for a long time before she swallowed hard and shook her head, as if to clear it. “Hi. Um, I’ll be right with you. In, um, room 2.”
I was reluctant to walk away from her, but I’d brought Simon here for a reason, and that wasn’t for me to get a date. “Yes, ma’am,” I murmured. Then mentally smirked when her cheeks turned pink. It was adorable. After giving her one last sizzling glance, I backed up the few steps I’d taken into the room and bumped into Simon.
He snickered, and I tossed him a warning glance as we made our way to the next room.
“You should ask her out.”
