Chapter 7
Finn
“You ready for this, lad?” I swiveled in the driver’s seat to look back at Ajax in the back.
At the word “ready,” he rose to his feet, ears at attention, body braced for action.
Not quite what I’d been going for. But then, he and I both had trouble separating readiness from tension.
We were built to brace. There’d been a lot of this kind of thing over the past three days as we’d begun getting used to each other.
I supposed the signs of vigilance were better than the depression, but as I’d been warned, he didn’t know how to simply…
dog. It would take a long time to teach him that he didn’t have to be on alert all the time.
But I knew plenty about that. We were two creatures wired for watchfulness, still waiting for the next command that wouldn’t come.
I slid out of the 4x4 and opened the door to the backseat. “Come on, then.”
Ajax leapt neatly down and immediately took up a heel position.
I clipped on his lead. Today was his first day at the office.
I had the new bed in the boot, but I didn’t want to bring it inside until I saw how he did with the rest of the staff and with Parker’s mobility assistance dog, Falkor, who’d effectively become the Out of Bounds mascot.
I hadn’t yet seen Ajax around other civilian dogs.
I didn’t think he’d be aggressive, but the concept of a canine friend wasn’t exactly part of his life experience up to this point.
I considered taking him around the outside of the building to sniff everything, but that smacked too much of patrol.
I wanted him to learn that this was another safe place for him.
So I let us in the back door. It was early yet, and I didn’t expect anyone here but Parker and Imogen Ross, one of our recent hires.
Callum had done me a solid and taken the overnight guided hike that had originally been on my schedule.
According to the electronic calendar that Parker maintained religiously, Kieran Stevenson, our other new hire, was out with a group of intermediate kayakers, and Parker’s bodyguard, Jade Washington, should already have left with the mountain biking expedition booked for the morning.
Parker’s need for an active bodyguard had been more or less eliminated last year, but we still made sure that one of us was around as much as possible, just in case.
The empty equipment bays told me what I needed to know, even if I hadn’t heard the two quiet female voices from the front office. It was only the three of us.
Ajax tensed beside me, his posture shifting from alert to rigid, like his spine had turned to steel.
His ears flicked forward, then back, processing the unfamiliar sounds and smells of the office.
I could feel the tension in the lead. Not aggression, but the heightened awareness of a dog trained to assess threats in new environments.
“Easy, mate.” I kept my voice calm and steady. “The office. Safe place.”
The click of nails on hardwood announced the white blur that bounded down the hallway, tail wagging like a metronome gone haywire. Falkor, Parker’s Great Pyrenees, all sunshine and enthusiasm as always.
Ajax went completely still beside me, muscles coiled tight. I kept the lead loose but stayed ready.
“Falkor! Come back here!” Parker’s Southern drawl echoed from down the hall.
Falkor skidded to a halt about ten feet away, head tilted in confusion.
His tail kept wagging, but slower now, as he looked between Ajax and me.
The poor lad seemed genuinely perplexed.
His entire job description was essentially “be friendly to everyone,” and here was a new someone he wasn’t immediately allowed to greet.
Parker appeared around the corner. “Sorry, Finn. I heard you come in and was trying to intercept him before he rolled out the welcome wagon.” She paused, taking in Ajax’s stiff posture.
“Oh, this must be Ajax.” She smiled, and I saw her hands twitch before curling in on themselves.
Parker holding back her innate desire to get down and love on the newest arrival with fur.
She wanted to reach out. Of course she did. She just had to wait.
“Aye. First day. Thought we’d start with a short visit, see how he does.”
Ajax hadn’t moved, but I noticed his ears had perked up at Parker’s voice. He was tracking everything—Falkor’s movements, Parker’s approach, the sounds from outside—but not reacting. For now, he was taking his cues from me.
“Falkor, stay with me.” At Parker’s soft command, the polar bear masquerading as a dog reluctantly backed up to her side, though his eyes never left Ajax. He let out a small, confused whine that seemed to say, “But I’m supposed to say hello to everyone.”
“Good lad.” I gave Ajax a gentle scratch behind the ears. “That’s Parker and Falkor. They’re friends.”
Imogen peeked down the hall. “Oh, he’s gorgeous, Finn. How do you want us to do this?”
“Let’s take it slow.” I gave Ajax’s lead a gentle tug to keep him close. “He’s still learning that not everything’s a threat.”
Parker nodded, keeping her distance. “Maybe let’s do this out front, in the lobby, where he’s less likely to feel cornered.”
“Good idea. Ajax, heel.” I moved forward slowly, and he matched my pace perfectly, staying precisely at my left side. His eyes never left Falkor, but his posture had relaxed slightly from battle-ready to merely vigilant as we moved into the lobby.
“Parker, if you dinna mind, have Falkor sit and stay. Let Ajax approach on his terms.”
“Of course.” She guided Falkor into a sitting position, though the big white fluffball was practically vibrating with the effort of containing his excitement.
I crouched beside Ajax. “Easy, lad. Friends.”
His ears twitched at the word “friends,” a concept Charlie had surely taught him, though probably in a different context. I let the lead slacken further, giving him enough freedom to move if he chose.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ajax took a tentative step forward, then another. I moved with him, keeping my hand near his collar, just in case. When we were about three feet from Parker and Falkor, he paused again, nostrils flaring as he took in their scents.
Falkor whined softly, tail thumping against the floor.
“Good boy, Ajax,” I murmured. “Good lad.”
To my surprise, Ajax lowered his head slightly and continued forward until he was nose to nose with Falkor. The two dogs sniffed each other carefully. Then Falkor, unable to contain himself any longer, gave Ajax’s muzzle a quick, friendly lick.
Ajax startled, backing up a step, but didn’t growl or show any aggression. He looked confused, as if he’d never encountered such enthusiastic friendliness before and didn’t know how to receive it. Aye. I knew that look, too.
Parker laughed softly. “That’s Falkor’s way of saying hi. He flunked service dog school for being too friendly.”
“He’s doing brilliantly.” Pride surged through me, and I gave Ajax’s ears a careful scratch. “Better than I expected, honestly.”
Imogen had been watching from a respectful distance. “Can I say hello, too?”
I nodded. “Let him come to you. Dinna reach over his head.”
Imogen approached slowly, hand extended low, palm up. “Hey there, handsome.” She crouched down to Ajax’s level without making direct eye contact. “Aren’t you a beautiful boy?”
Ajax’s ears twitched forward with interest. He glanced up at me, as if asking permission. Looking for reassurance that he was safe doing something unfamiliar. Trust—earned in inches.
“It’s alright,” I assured him. “She’s one of our guides. Friend.”
He took a tentative step toward Imogen, stretching his neck to sniff her outstretched hand. After a moment’s consideration, he allowed her to gently stroke under his chin. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
“There you go,” Imogen murmured. “Not so scary, is it?”
I felt a surprising lump in my throat watching him. This was the most relaxed I’d seen him since bringing him home. Charlie would be proud. And if I didn’t choke on the lump in my throat, it’d be a bloody miracle.
“I’ve got something for him.” Parker moved slowly to a drawer in the nearby desk. She pulled out one of the fancy dog biscuits she kept for Falkor. “May I?”
“Aye, go ahead.” I was entirely in favor of anything that got him to eat.
Parker knelt down, holding the treat flat on her palm. “Ajax, would you like a biscuit?”
His ears perked up at the word “biscuit.” Oh, he knew that word. He looked to me again for confirmation.
I gave him a gentle nudge. “Go on, then.”
It felt like I was giving him permission to hope for something small and sweet. I wasn’t sure I knew how to do that for myself.
Ajax stepped forward and delicately took the treat from Parker’s hand, retreating a step to eat it. His tail gave a single, hesitant wag.
“There’s a good lad.”
Parker beamed. “Sometimes the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.”
Falkor, not wanting to be left out, nudged Parker’s hand hopefully.
“You already had two this morning.” There was absolutely no heat to her scolding as she reached for another biscuit, anyway.
I watched as Ajax finished his treat, looking marginally more at ease in his new surroundings. He couldn’t be called relaxed, but the rigid vigilance had softened to cautious observation.
It was a start.
I retrieved the big fluffy bed and bag of supplies from the boot of my car, Ajax trotting faithfully at my heel. He’d done better than I’d expected with the initial introductions. It was a promising start.
“Come on, lad. Let’s get you settled.”
My office was little more than a glorified storage closet with a desk wedged in.
When we’d renovated this place, it had been more important to us to have plenty of storage for gear, as we still spent most of our time on expeditions.
But it had a perfect corner where Ajax could observe everything without feeling exposed.
I tucked in the plush bed Callum had brought over. “What do you think?”
Ajax circled the bed three times before finally settling with a sigh I hoped was some shade of contentment. He rested his chin on his paws, dark eyes watching me intently as I booted up my laptop.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got reports to catch up on.”
I’d barely started reviewing the risk assessments for next month’s expeditions when a soft knock interrupted. Parker peeked around the door, her smile brightening when she saw Ajax curled up.
“He looks like he’s settling in.”
“Aye, better than expected.” I leaned back in my chair. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know Kieran’s group will be back early. The wind picked up on the loch.” She handed me a folder. “And here’s the updated itinerary for the corporate retreat next week.”
“Thanks.” I flipped through the papers, intending to ask about the T-shirt order she’d been putting together last week. But what came out instead was, “Have you seen Saoirse since the wedding?”
I told myself it was a casual request for information. Not the thing I’d been pretending I wasn’t wondering since I saw her bruised face and felt that split-second, blood-red urge to destroy whoever had hurt her.
Parker’s eyebrows shot up, a smile spreading across her face. “Why, Finley Patterson. Are you asking about the lovely Dr. MacGregor? I couldn’t help but notice the sparks you two were throwing off at the reception.”
I had to nip this in the bud. “She despises me, as you well know. I was wondering how she’s healing up. Call it professional curiosity.”
But it hadn’t been professional curiosity that had driven me to the brink of violence in 0.2 seconds at the sight of her injured face. It hadn’t been professional curiosity that had made her almost the exclusive topic of my thoughts when they weren’t tuned entirely to my new dog.
“Mmhmm.” Parker leaned against the doorframe, not even trying to hide her amusement. “That black eye was ferocious, wasn’t it? I think it’s in the worse before better phase, but starting to fade.”
“Good to hear.”
She was improving. That was what I’d needed to hear. Now I’d be able to let all those obsessive thoughts go.
“Just checking.” I turned back to my computer, hoping to end the conversation before Parker could dig deeper.
No such luck.
“She doesn’t despise you, you know.”
I couldn’t stop myself from going brows up. “Could have fooled me.”
“Oh, you definitely somehow step all over some nerve with her. But I kinda don’t think it’s personal to you. I think you confuse her.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I confuse her? I’m a simple man. What’s there to be confused about?”
Parker snorted. “Oh, please. You want people to think you’re simple. That you’re this happy-go-lucky, flirty, fun, charming guy. But that’s all an act so they don’t look closer.”
The observation struck way closer to home than I liked.
I put on a bland face. “I think you’re complicating the rest of us because you fell in love with Mr. Enigma.”
“Oh, of the two of you, Callum is the simple one. He was never able to hide his pain. You’re the one who has everyone fooled. Except me.”
That was the thing about Parker. She didn’t stab. She scalpeled. Quiet. Precise. And always straight to the truth.
She tapped the side of her nose. “Anyway, Saoirse doesn’t like the mask. But I think she’d actually really dig what you hide underneath. My two cents, for whatever that’s worth.”
With one last wink, she disappeared back to her command center in the lobby, leaving me staring at the space where she’d been standing.
At last, I looked over at Ajax, who blinked at me in a “Well, what are you gonna do with all that?” kind of way.
He was getting very good at asking the questions I didn’t want to answer.
“Not a bloody thing,” I told him, and turned back to my paperwork.