the room, each dragging a piece of what he guessed had been her jeans. They paused to bark at him, the unfamiliar person in their home, and then raced off again with their prize.
Watching the remains of her pants disappear around the corner, Mark realized a bathing suit was one thing. Leopard-print underwear was another. Someone was supposed to read those words—feeling lucky—and take action.
Was she seeing someone? She’d never said anything. But he was probably the last person she’d tell. Or at least on the list of last people. Darren’s brothers were up there, too. If she was...well, hell, that was exactly what she needed. Someone new. A fresh start.
His jaw tightened. But whoever the guy was, he’d better be worthy of Amy. She’d been through so much. If some jerk thought he could breeze in and out of her life, Mark would be tempted to kick the shit out of him. And he had a feeling Darren’s brothers would be next in line.
“Sorry about that.” Amy walked into the room. This time she wore a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversize sweatshirt. She’d pulled her long hair into a ponytail. She looked exactly like the Amy he remembered from high school.
“They’re six weeks old, and I’ve been doing some bite work with them,” she said, speaking quickly, a sure sign she was still embarrassed. “Mostly chasing rags. They saw my jeans and thought it was a game.”
Mark shrugged. “Most people are so excited to see me they forget their pants.”
Funny or not, the joke worked its magic and diffused the discomfort.
Amy cocked her head to one side and smiled. “You save people. I guess that is to be expected.”
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tight.
Mark closed his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had held him. The flare of desire he’d sensed earlier was gone. Her hug? It was better than Thanksgiving dinner with all the fixings. It was pure comfort. Considering he’d been in Afghanistan less than forty-eight hours ago, it felt like a luxury.
“I missed you,” she said. He felt her breath on his neck and moved away, breaking the physical connection before his body misinterpreted the way she was pressed up against him, and he started thinking about falling down on his knees and worshipping her again.
“Same here.” The puppies raced around the corner, their paws sliding on the wooden floorboards. “Want some help rounding them up?”
“Let me grab some treats.”
Mark followed her into the kitchen, taking in every detail. Nothing had changed. Pictures of Amy with her dogs, of her and Darren, hung on the walls. There was a large framed shot of her parents sitting on a boat.
“Your folks enjoying Florida?” he asked.
“They love it.” She removed a handful of jerky treats from a jar. “My mom likes the weather, and she’s thrilled to be closer to my grandmother. My aunt moved down there, too. They thought about coming west for the opening, but it’s a long trip. I told them not to bother.”
“That’s too bad. What you’re doing here is pretty impressive. I’m sure they’d be proud.”
“Thanks, but you haven’t even seen the kennels yet.”
As if they’d smelled the treats through the walls, the puppies came running. Amy offered one to each dog as she led them around the corner. “Or met Nova and Bullet.”
“The dogs you brought back from Europe?”
She nodded, opening the door to the spare bedroom. “I’ve been keeping Nova in here with her puppies while we finish the kennels. They should be able to move down in the next few days, before the opening. Until then, you’re stuck on the couch. I hope that’s okay.”
“Long as I’m not in the way.”
She knelt down beside a large Belgian Malinois and began rubbing her belly. “I’ll be glad for the company.”
He looked around the room. Two adult dogs, including Jango, and five puppies. “Looks like you have a full house already.”
“I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t bark at me,” she said. “Eloise doesn’t count. The only time she stays here she is too drunk to drive home, or avoiding her latest romantic disaster.”
“Sounds like the same old Eloise.” He bent over and scooped up a tan puppy with a striking black nose and pointed ears. Mark was familiar with the breed, but also knew they were often mistaken for German shepherds. The little one in his hands bore a strong resemblance to the more popular breed.
“What about you?” Mark asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Amy froze, her hand on Nova’s belly. “Wow, no one has asked me that.”
Mark shrugged, turning the puppy onto her back. From a young age, war dogs were handled a lot, put in different positions to make them comfortable with anything. “Darren’s been gone eighteen months.”
“I know, but—I’ve been busy. Opening this place has taken all my time.”
The tension Mark had been holding on to since he’d first thought her underwear might have an intended audience slipped away.
“And I haven’t exactly been looking,” she added.
“Then your couch sounds great. An upgrade from the crowded barracks.”
Amy stood and turned to him. He knew that look. She’d worn the same expression when she won homecoming queen. Pure astonishment.
“You thought you’d be in the way because I was seeing someone?” She let out a laugh.
“Yeah,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s not such a crazy idea.”
He cut himself off before he said things he couldn’t take back. Amy didn’t need to know that he’d taken one look at her bare legs and thought about running his hands up her limbs because, shit, his mind should never have traveled down that road. She might be single, but that didn’t mean he was the guy to fill the empty space in her bed.
“Sometimes it still kind of feels like it is,” she said softly. Then she gave a little shake of her head and turned to the door. “You came all this way, I think I owe you a tour.”
“Love one.” He returned the puppy to his mother and held the door for Amy and Jango.
With the sun sinking low in the sky, they walked through the yard to the kennel. It was double in size, compared to the previous structure. He knew she’d done well with her dog training and boarding business, and enjoyed it, but a building this size suggested she was seriously committed to her new venture.
He stopped a few feet from the door, resting his hands on his hips as he studied the new kennel. She’d painted it white with a forest green trim. It looked shiny and new.
“Impressive,” he said.
She looped her arm through his. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”
He
