Chapter Ten
A cold, wet nose pressed against Josh’s palm, followed immediately by the jingle of metal tags.
In the dead silence of the country night, the soft sound might as well have been a cymbal crash.
Forcing one eye open, Josh groaned. Except for the sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds, the room was pitch black.
Raider whined again, a low, desperate sound that vibrated against the side of the mattress.
“All right, buddy. I hear you.” Josh pushed the quilt aside.
He knew better than to bolt upright. That lesson had been learned the hard way over the last few weeks since the explosion—move too fast, and the world tilts on its axis like a carnival ride gone wrong.
Instead, he sat up by degrees, gripping the edge of the mattress and waited for the fluid in his inner ear to settle.
One. Two. Three, he counted the seconds in the dark.
The dizziness was there, a low-grade hum in the background, but the room wasn’t spinning. Progress. “Let’s go,” he whispered.
Raider needed no encouragement. The shepherd’s nails clicked against the vinyl floor as he moved slowly toward the door.
Josh stood, locking his knees, finding his center of gravity.
Reaching for the belly band, he carefully slipped it under Raider, holding it in one hand as his free hand caressed the wall, his fingers trailing against the plaster for orientation.
Leaning to one side, he opened the door, surprised to have a soft, golden glow spill from the kitchen, shining a beacon across the hallway floor.
Josh paused, his hand still on the doorframe. Raider didn’t wait; the dog tugged him toward the light, his tail giving a rare, low wag. Josh followed, the two moving slowly, Josh’s bare feet silent on the wood in complete contrast to the rhythmic tapping of Raider’s nails on the floor.
At the sight of the refrigerator door wide open, he came to a sudden stop.
It was too late for the family to be up, and too early for Alice to be making breakfast. Staring into the depths of the fridge, Katie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her robe wrapped behind wiggling just enough to set him off balance in a way that had nothing to do with his ears.
Smiling at the sight before him, he paused in the doorway. “Casing the joint?”
Katie jumped, a small jar of pickles nearly slipping from her hand.
She bobbled it, caught it against her chest, and spun around.
Her eyes went wide, then softened when she saw him.
“Good grief.” She let out a breath that made her chest heave and his balance waver once more. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Sorry. Walking softly is an occupational hazard. Though Raider here doesn’t seem to have that problem.” Smiling at her, he nodded toward the fridge. “Find anything good?”
“I was told there was leftover fried chicken.” She turned back to the shelves, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I think Alice might have hidden it. She runs a tight ship.”
Raider nudged at his leg, letting out a whine that reminded Josh his current mission had nothing to do with the fridge and everything to do with the back door. “He needs out.”
“Oh, of course.” Katie didn’t hesitate. Twisting around, she set the pickles on the counter and rushed to the back door, flipping on the porch light and grabbing a flashlight that hung on a nearby hook. “Despite the blanket of stars in the sky, it gets awfully dark out there.”
He nodded, and as they walked past, Raider seemed to bump against her, not so much an accident as it seemed a gesture of thanks, perhaps a doggy version of a fist bump.
Out on the porch, Katie clicked the flashlight on, sweeping the beam across shrubs at the foot of the back steps. “Should I help getting him down the stairs?”
Josh thought for a second. The dog seemed lighter in the band tonight, to be bearing more of his own weight. “Let me take this off and see how he does on his own for a few minutes.”
Gingerly, Raider made his way down the stairs and took an immediate interest in the smell of every shrub along the back of the house, marking them one at a time.
“He’s moving better,” she noted, her voice low.
“Yeah. Time, rest, and that elevated bed all help.” He wished the same for himself, but he wasn’t sure if there was enough time and rest in the world to fix him.
She crossed the porch to stand beside him, her gaze on the distant, dark horizon.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He didn’t know where that came from, something his grandmother used to say when he was a little boy, but it seemed to fit the moment.
“All those stars, all that black of night, it’s like the stars are hiding the night’s secrets.”
Well that was a different thought. “Secrets huh?”
Staring ahead, she nodded.
“Like what?”
She didn’t face him, but the corner of her mouth tilted up. “Probably a little of everything. Secret lovers sneaking out at night to steal a few moments together. Children reading under the blanket with a flashlight when they should be sleeping.”
“Or teenage boys stealing glimpses of their dad’s Playboy magazine.”
Now she turned to face him, one brow higher than the other. “The voice of experience?”
Slapping his hand on his chest, and widening his eyes, he feigned shock. “Me?”
To his delight, that had her laughing, before turning back to see Raider working his way slowly back to the porch steps. “I alphabetize my spice racks.”
“Excuse me?”
She turned to face him. “Jackie invited me to visit so I would stop organizing my closets. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I not only organized, I alphabetized my spices. And maybe my DVD collection.”
“I see.” He held back a grin. “So, what you’re saying is the stars are keeping our secrets too?”
Tilting her head, she leveled her gaze with his. “What secrets are they keeping for you,” she straightened and flashed a bright smile under the porch light, “since you didn’t steal a peek at your dad’s magazines.”
Debating what to say next, he decided to stick with levity. “Busted zipper.”
“Excuse me?”
“A busted zipper did me in. New tactical gear for special night maneuvers. Worked great. Until we returned home. The zipper was totally stuck and when I yanked at it with sheer brute force—”
“Mm hm,” she cut him off. “Men are good at that.”
“So I’ve heard. Anyhow, I proceeded to break the dumb thing and ruin any chance of getting out of it unnoticed.”
“What happened?”
“My buddy had to cut me out of it, then we had to come up with a good reason to give our CO, and the rest of my team made a point not to let me forget what happened, especially after a few beers.”
“You win. That definitely beats my spice rack.”
Raider barked, and Josh could see he was now at their feet but a bit wobbly on his. “I’d better put this back on and get him to that restful bed for more recovery time.”
“Need help?”
“No. We’ve got this.” He slid the band around him, took two steps, then stopped. Nothing about going back to his quiet room appealed right now. Spending more time with Katie, on the other hand… “Did you say fried chicken?
Katie followed Josh and Raider inside, letting the screen latch with a soft click. “Fried chicken,” she headed for the fridge, “the breakfast of champions. Or insomniacs.”
His movements slow and deliberate, Josh crossed the room, unhooked the belly band from beneath Raider, and stretching his hand forward, let Raider sniff him a moment, and when the dog licked his hand, he shifted to scratching behind his ear.
“He’s taken a real shine to you.” At first it had surprised her how the dog had warmed up to Josh and not Kade the trained handler, but from what she could see, it seemed pretty obvious the feeling was mutual.
“I think he’s just hoping for some of that fried chicken.”
“Fried chicken. Right.” She spun around and pulled the fridge door open. “I think I saw the container on the bottom shelf earlier.” She leaned in, moving several items out of the way. “Behind the yogurt. Alice buys yogurt in tubs the size of small swimming pools.”
“Good hiding spot.” Josh leaned against the butcher-block island, his stance wide, his hands behind him. Whether that was military habit, or an attempt to keep his balance, she wasn’t sure.
Spotting the tell-tale Tupperware tucked behind a gallon of Greek yogurt and a formidable tub of potato salad, she grabbed the container and tucking the tub against her with one arm, she spun around and held the other container up like the Stanley Cup. “Found it.”
Bumping the door shut with her hip, she set the prize on the island and peeled back the lid. The scent of savory spices wafted up, instantly making her mouth water.
“I’ll get the plates.” Carefully turning around to reach the upper cabinets, Josh pulled two down and then, one hand on the counter, slowly turned back around.
Setting the food down, she kept her gaze on him. Definitely keeping his balance, she decided, wishing there was something she could do to help him heal up faster.
Taking a seat beside her at the table, Josh reached in and snagged a drumstick. “The colonel has nothing on Alice. Best fried chicken this side of the Mason Dixon line—even cold.”
Katie went for a thigh, then plopped a hefty scoop of potato salad beside it. For the first several bites, neither said a word, both enjoying the cold meal.
Raider collapsed with a heavy, dramatic sigh right at Josh’s feet. He rested his chin on Josh’s foot, his dark eyes fixed upward with laser-like intensity, tracking the movement of the chicken from the container to Josh’s mouth.
“Don’t even think about it.” Josh shook his head at the dog.
Raider whined, a high-pitched, pathetic sound that didn’t match his size or his history as a hardened military asset. He nudged Josh’s shin with his wet nose.
“He’s playing you.” Katie wiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “Look at those eyebrows. He’s tragic.”
“I see ’em. He’s a manipulator. Learned it in basic training.” Josh tore off a piece of meat, ignoring the dog. “Fried chicken isn’t good for dogs, but I’m glad to see his appetite improving.”
“Would it be all right to give him something of his own? An apple maybe?”
“Perfect.” He smiled. “Nutrients and crunch factor.”
She moved to the fruit basket, grabbing a shiny green apple and the paring knife from the block. The slide of the blade through the crisp fruit sounded impossibly loud in the quiet room. She cut two thick wedges and walked back to the island.
“Compromise?” She squatted down and held out a slice.
The dog didn’t lift his head, and yet his eyes followed her every move. She could see him debating if he wanted the apple enough to trust her. When he took another few seconds, Josh took a slice, set it on his open palm and held it out to the dog.
Immediately Raider snatched up the piece.
Josh gave him a couple more before turning to Katie. “You try this time.”
She had remained low to the ground at Josh and Raider’s side, but wasn’t so sure the poor baby was going to want the apple from her anymore than before, but she did what Josh had done and set the slice on her palm, holding it out, giving the dog time to make up his mind.
Unlike before, this time Raider took a single glance up at her before taking the apple slice. “He took it!”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Dog has good taste.”
Now she was sure her cheeks had to be burning red. “Thank you,” was all she managed to say before shoving a slice of apple into her own mouth and retaking her seat.
An arms length away, he reached out, his hand hovering for a split second before his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
Katie stopped breathing. Despite the heat in her cheeks, she froze, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
“Crumb,” he whispered.
The distinct groan of a floorboard settling directly above their heads drew their gazes heavenward.
“Alice,” he mouthed.
“Should we…” Katie pointed vaguely toward the dishwasher.
“Hide the evidence?” Josh chuckled. “I’m sure she won’t mind, but…”
Unable to stop smiling, she nodded. “I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher.”
Josh pushed to his feet. “I’ll put the containers away.”
They moved together, a silent, synchronized cleanup crew.
Josh shoved the chicken back into the fridge, burying it the way they’d found it behind the tub of potato salad.
She wiped the table down, erasing the crumbs and the grease rings.
It was domestic. It was simple. And it was terrifyingly comfortable.