Chapter 15
Mark
Mark leaned back against the sofa, arms crossed, staring at Ranger from a safe distance. The dog sat motionless, his deep brown eyes locked onto him with an unsettling intensity. Mark exhaled slowly.
"Alright, bud," he muttered under his breath. "I get it. You’re the alpha in this house. Message received."
Ranger’s ears flicked, but he didn’t move, didn’t blink. It was as if he could hear Mark’s thoughts and was judging him for them.
The only sounds in the house were the muffled noise of the commercials on TV and the distant sound of Ethan washing his hands in the bathroom.
Mark wasn’t afraid of dogs—no, that wasn’t it. He just… wasn’t used to being under such scrutiny. The dog exuded authority as if he was calculating every move Mark made, deciding whether he approved.
"Ethan, I understand how Diana makes you feel now," Mark yelled, rubbing his neck.
Ethan strolled back into the room, wiping his hands on his jeans. He took one look at Mark’s stiff posture and burst out laughing.
"Oh man, he had you trapped, didn’t he?" Ethan grinned, giving Ranger an affectionate pat on the head. "You look like you are under cross examination in federal court."
"Your dog doesn’t blink," Mark said flatly. "I find that deeply unsettling."
Ethan chuckled. "It’s called discipline. He’s just doing his job, assessing threats."
Mark lifted a brow. "Am I a threat?"
Ethan smirked. "To my sanity? Possibly."
Mark rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Ethan stretched his arms above his head. "Hey, mind if I take him out back and run him for a bit? He’s been cooped up most of the day, and I try to keep him sharp even on off days."
Mark shrugged. "Sure, go ahead. The yard’s fenced in."
Ethan whistled, and Ranger instantly snapped to attention, following him toward the back door. Mark trailed behind, leaning against the doorframe as he watched them step out into the yard.
The backyard was a masterpiece of quiet elegance. A large stone patio extended from the house, leading to a neatly trimmed lawn. A pergola covered part of the space, draped in vines that Jessica had planted herself. Twinkling lights wrapped around the beams, casting a soft glow. Beyond the patio, a cedar hot tub rested against a backdrop of tall trees, giving the space a private, almost serene feel.
But all of that faded as Mark’s attention locked onto Ethan and Ranger.
The moment they stepped onto the grass, Ethan clapped his hands once. Ranger snapped into action, his entire body going rigid with anticipation.
"Sit." Ethan’s voice was firm but affectionate. Ranger obeyed instantly.
Mark watched, transfixed, as Ethan ran Ranger through a series of drills.
"Stay."
Ethan backed away, his steps slow, deliberate. Ranger didn’t move a muscle.
"Come."
The second the word left Ethan’s mouth, Ranger bolted forward, stopping just inches from him, tail wagging but eyes locked in unwavering focus.
"Left."
Ranger moved in a sharp arc around Ethan’s side.
"Down."
He dropped instantly to his belly, muscles taut, waiting for the next command.
Mark had seen police K9s before, of course. In court cases, on the news, walking the streets with their handlers. But seeing it up close, watching the precision, the respect, the bond between them, it was something else entirely.
Ethan grinned, jogging backward a few paces. "Heel."
Ranger leapt to his side, matching Ethan’s pace step for step.
"Goddamn," Mark muttered to himself.
After they repeated these drills several times and did some agility training, Ethan finally slowed to a stop, giving Ranger an affectionate ruffle behind the ears. "Good boy." He pulled a small treat from his pocket and handed it to him. "Go get some water."
Ranger trotted over to the water bowl Ethan had set out, lapping at it enthusiastically.
Ethan turned back to Mark, catching the look on his face. "What?"
Mark shook his head, still slightly in awe. "That was… incredible to watch."
Ethan shrugged like it was no big deal. "It’s just what we do."
Mark nodded slowly, still watching as Ranger paced the yard, always keeping one eye on Ethan. "How’d you get him?"
Ethan’s expression softened. "He was the first graduate of the Pawsitive Vibes K9 Training center here in Brookings. He helped me get my job, when I applied and they found out I was a trained handler, they matched me right away with him."
Mark’s head snapped up, his heart stuttering as Ethan’s words sank in, a quiet tremor rippling through him. “Pawsitive Vibes,” he rasped, his voice catching on the name, thick with something unspoken. “We… handle their legal and financial operations. I pushed for that K9 training expansion a couple of years back, and Alex has made us very proud of his accomplishments with the program.” His eyes flickered, a sheen of awe and distant memory glinting there as he stared at Ethan, Ranger’s story stirring a buried ache he couldn’t name. “I had no idea he was their first success—the first one to carry that dream forward.”
Ethan beamed with pride not noticing Mark’s demeanor change. "Yep. The greatest partner that I could ask for." He glanced over at Ranger, who was now sitting attentively, ears perked. "He’s my best friend. Don’t tell my dad that, but… yeah."
Mark chuckled. "I won’t snitch."
Ethan’s face turned serious for a moment, his voice quieter. "Being a K9 cop… it’s the best part of my job. The trust, the teamwork. Knowing we have each other’s back no matter what. It’s different than anything else I’ve ever done."
Mark studied him, the unfiltered honesty in his words. He saw the way Ethan’s entire demeanor shifted when he talked about his work, the way his posture relaxed, the way his eyes lit up.
For the first time in years, Mark felt something strange, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
Admiration.
Not just for Ranger’s skills but for the man who was training him and devoted his life to something bigger than himself.
Mark cleared his throat, pushing away the thoughts swirling in his mind. "Well, it’s damn impressive. You should be proud."
Ethan smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made something in Mark’s chest tighten. "I am."
As they stepped back inside, Ranger trotted in after them, keeping that laser focus on Mark.
Mark sighed. "He’s still staring at me."
Ethan laughed. "He’s just making sure you’re worthy."
Mark smirked. "And?"
Ethan shrugged, playful but sincere. "Jury’s still out."
For the first time in a long time, Mark felt something close to unfiltered laughter bubbling up.
Maybe—just maybe—he liked having them around.
“Back to the game, Husky!” Mark pushed on his shoulder as they headed back to the family room.
The second half of the game played out like a dream for Mark. The Ducks dominated, every play executed with precision, every touchdown bringing the crowd into the stadium—and the two of them in his living room—to their feet.
"Boom!" Mark shouted as the Ducks scored again. He pointed at the screen triumphantly. "Look at that. Absolute perfection. Textbook football."
Ethan groaned dramatically, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I get it. You guys are on fire tonight. But don’t get used to this smugness, Jensen. When the Huskies come to town, we’re enemies."
Mark shot him a mock serious look. "Oh, game on. Consider this your only moment of mercy."
They both laughed, the easy camaraderie settling between them as the game clock wound down. By the time the final whistle blew, announcing the Ducks' 49-14 victory, Mark felt lighter. He felt connected.
Ethan stretched his arms over his head. "Alright, man, congrats. Solid win. You’re obnoxious when you’re happy, though."
Mark smirked. "I’ve had years of practice. Savor this moment, because when the huskies are on the screen, we are going to own your ass."
Mark carried a platter into the kitchen and began washing some dishes, Ethan brought the rest of the plates and bowls in for him.
“No leftovers, we killed it.” Ethan laughed, rubbing his belly.
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed the folding table where they’d stacked their plates earlier. "Where’s this go?"
"Garage, by the tool bench," Mark said absently as he started gathering the empty beer bottles and tossed them in the recycle bin.
Ethan disappeared through the door to the garage, and Mark took a moment to just stand in the quiet of the kitchen with the water running. The energy of the game still buzzed in his veins, but it wasn’t just that. It was the company. The laughter. The way Ethan had made everything feel easy.
For the first time in years, his house had felt alive.
Ethan returned, brushing his hands on his jeans. "Damn, that’s a huge sauna out there. You hosting team meetings in that thing?"
Mark chuckled. "I like my space."
Ethan grinned but then tilted his head, glancing toward the far end of the garage. "And what’s with all the packages? That’s a lot of retail therapy you haven’t opened."
Mark stiffened slightly, his fingers tightening around the beer bottles. "They’re… Jessica’s."
Ethan didn’t flinch, didn’t look away uncomfortably like most people did when he mentioned her name. Instead, he just nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Yeah?" Ethan walked toward the sink, leaning against the counter. "I bet there’s some cool stuff in there. A couple of the things she described in her notes—furniture pieces, light fixtures—part of her whole plan that never got finished."
Mark let out a slow breath. "Yeah… she ordered a lot of it before…. well you know."
Ethan smiled. "Then we should go through them. See what she had in mind for your home."
It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a statement, as if it were a given, as if this wasn’t a burden Mark had to carry alone.
Mark swallowed. He wasn’t sure why, but those words… they made something shift inside him.
He nodded, voice quieter than before. "Yeah. We should."
The easy way Ethan accepted the idea—without pity, without awkwardness—made Mark feel something he hadn’t in a long time.
Hope.
They finished cleaning up together, moving in sync without even realizing it. Ethan grabbed the last of the trash as Mark wiped the counters. The entire night had been effortless.
As Ethan grabbed his coat, Mark suddenly wasn’t ready for the night to end.
"Hey, Ethan."
Ethan turned, raising a brow.
"Thanks for coming over," Mark said, shifting awkwardly. "This was… good."
Ethan’s smile was warm, genuine. "Yeah. It was."
Mark hesitated before adding, "And thanks for… not making me feel like an idiot about the packages."
Ethan shrugged, opening the front door. "Not at all, man. It’s just a house waiting to be finished."
Mark watched him leave, standing in the doorway long after Ethan’s Lyft disappeared down the street.
For the first time in a long, long time…
He wasn’t just existing.
He was living.