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“You know, you’d make a good trainer – or barring that, a good handler. Did your unit have a canine member?”
“We did. A Malinois. Man, that dog could literally climb walls. He saved our asses more than once.”
“What was his name?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“Magic Mike.”
“You got Magic Mike?” She grinned. “I trained him from a puppy. What a spectacular dog. I hated when he was assigned. The handler—” she paused, searching for the name. “Oh, yeah, Tom Hinson, a guy from the Appalachians. He’s top notch.”
“Yes, he is.”
“And Magic? Are he and Tom still a team?”
“They are. Do you get notified when they have to be reassigned?”
“That only happens when the dog loses its handler. Then typically, the dogs will be brought back in, paired with a new handler, and they’ll spend a week or two on base, getting familiar with one another.”
“And when one falls in combat?”
That was a question that brought tears to her eyes, and she hurried to turn her head away, stared out of the window and cleared her throat before responding. “They bring my soldiers home, and I get to say goodbye and help carry their caskets.”
That was all she could manage. Oakley didn’t want Gunner to know her weakness. She could go toe-to-toe with anyone in armed or unarmed combat, face death or injury, but seeing one of the dogs she’d raised, trained, and loved be brought home in a box crushed her heart in a way she couldn’t explain to anyone. Nor had she ever tried. She just kept her emotions zipped tight, and when that zipper threatened to burst, found the privacy she needed to grieve.
Gunner watched Oakley. He heard the hitch in her voice and saw the shudder in the deep breath she sucked in. He knew those signs. He’d felt them too many times when one of his teammates fell, when one of their unit was lost. It was a pain unlike any other, and one that stayed with you.
He noticed how the pups immediately hurried to crawl into her lap. One stood on its hind legs to lick the side of her neck, and the other busied itself, licking her hand. Obviously, they’d already formed an attachment to her, which was impressive. Naomie might be right. She said Oakley had more affinity with canines. He askedwhat that meant, and Naomie responded that it was up to him to find out.
That was fair, and he didn’t mind the learning process. What he knew so far was that Major Oakley Rising Wolf was more than a talented trainer and handler of the highest rating. The animals she trained took a piece of her heart with them. Or so it seemed to him, after witnessing her reaction to the question. That should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He’d seen the expression on her face when she talked about the dogs, heard the pride in her voice when she praised them, and the heartbreak when she spoke of one who’d fallen.
Oakley presented herself as a straight-up, balls-to-the-wall special forces operative, a woman capable of taking on assignments that some men couldn’t handle. He and Riggs had looked her up, and her list of commendations was impressive. Particularly for a woman, and that wasn’t him being sexist. There weren’t many special forces females, but those who made the cut were as lethal as their male counterparts. Maybe more so, as they faced the challenge of proving themselves as competent as the men in their units.
This was the one topic, or area where something softer appeared. She cared. No, she loved those animals, and from what he and Riggs had discovered, would take it to the mat to save one if it meant leading a rescue mission herself.
He wondered if there were more hidden facets to the woman seated beside him, and if she’d trust him enough to allow him to see those parts of her.
“There’s something you should know,” she finally spoke again and turned her head to look at him.
“I’m listening.”
“You know about the job I’ve been offered at Sanctuary?”
“Yep.”
“What do you think about it?”
He almost said it was none of his business, but that wouldn’t be fair to the friendship they were building. Sure, it started with lust, and that still played a big part, but he’d realized he liked Oakley. She was a straight-forward, no-bullshit gal, who would look you in the eye and speak her truth, even if she knew you weren’t going to like what she had to say.
She was also a woman who’d take someone else speaking their truth with respect, whether she agreed or not. He enjoyed being around her, and yeah, still hoped to take whatever they had to a more intimate level, but to his surprise, was content to let the wanting period linger.
It was easy enough to find a “woman for the moment”, even if you didn’t look like a movie star, or have a fat bank account. Something about the words Navy SEAL turned women into lusty creatures. Maybe it was all those romance books written about military heroes. He wasn’t sure what the men in those tales were like, but he’d be willing to bet that no SEAL he knew would see themselves in any of them.
Fiction was fantasy, and he reckoned women needed a little of that in their lives. Life could be hard, complicated, and often boring for some. Dreams and secret fantasies were an escape from that. At least that’s what Oakley had to say about it and joked that there weren’t many romances written about female operatives.
Gunner had laughed and told her that was because women liked to fantasize about being slung over a man’sshoulder and carried off to be ravaged. Not slinging a man over theirs.
