Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas: Surviving Christmas. Lenora Worth

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Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas: Surviving Christmas - Lenora  Worth

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enough.” Zoe licked her lips again, then reached for his mug. “More coffee?”

      Sean was still staring at her tender, sweet mouth. “Huh?”

      “Pay attention, Murphy. Do you want a refill?”

      Sean merely nodded. He’d been paying attention, all right. To the wrong thing. The more time he spent with Zoe, the more he realized what a fool he had been to marry Sandra. He’d apparently been deluded by his youthful desires and had made the biggest mistake of his life; one it was too late to correct.

      Or was it? Studying Zoe and admitting his own shortcomings, he concluded they would never be a good match. Not now. Not when she was so capable and he was damaged goods. Sadly, their chance for happiness had passed. He was simply pleased she’d stepped into his life long enough to render the kind of specialized aid for which she’d been trained.

      Those thoughts led him further into the doldrums and left him wondering if she would consider looking after Patrick if something bad happened to him. It wasn’t fair to even suggest it, of course, yet he desperately wanted to be able to count on someone he trusted. To know his son would be loved and cared for if the assassins finally succeeded.

      Maybe later he’d bring up the subject, Sean decided. If he lived long enough.

      A gentle touch on his arm drew him back to the present. Zoe had put down his steaming mug and was leaning closer, staring as if he’d just had an episode of regression. If he turned his head just a little, maybe...

      “Earth to Murphy. Are you all right?”

      “Fine.” He swallowed hard. “Thanks for the coffee.”

      “Where were you just now? You didn’t seem to be fighting a war again.”

      “Not the shooting kind.” He laid his hand over hers and lowered his voice to speak more privately while Patrick happily stuffed himself, ignoring the adults. “I was just imagining the future if something happened to me.”

      “Well, something won’t, so cut it out.”

      “If something did—” he cleared his throat and continued in a hoarse whisper “—would you consider becoming Patrick’s guardian?”

      “Me?”

      “I know it’s a lot to ask, but...”

      “I’m not refusing. I’m touched, that’s all.” She eyed the content child and smiled. “He’s the most important person in your whole life and you’re offering to trust me to take care of him. Of course I’d do it.” She placed her free hand over where theirs were joined, and sniffled.

      The moisture glistening in her eyes brought a similar reaction in his as he said, “Thank you.”

      Next to them, grinning and sticky with syrup, Patrick giggled and echoed, “Tank you,” interrupting their moving exchange and destroying the romantic mood.

      Zoe recovered first, pulled away and pointed to the boy. “Your daddy will clean you up while I clear the table.”

      “I will?” Sean lifted an eyebrow.

      “Oh, yeah. I may have offered to look after him in an emergency, but I’m not starting now. You fed him pancakes, so you get to wash off the sticky.”

      “You drive a hard bargain, Officer Trent.”

      She laughed. “You’d better believe it.”

      Sobering, Sean lifted his son into his arms. “You meant what you said? You’ll step in if...”

      “Absolutely. And if you’re as serious about it as I am, we need to see an attorney and make it official.”

      It occurred to him to tease about marrying her, instead, then decided it would be cruel to even suggest such a thing. He was not going to place her in an untenable position, nor was he going to take the chance she might actually agree, for Patrick’s sake.

      “Fine,” Sean said, as he left the kitchen. “You make the arrangements, and I’ll keep my head down until it’s legal.”

      “You’d better plan on keeping it down a lot longer than that,” Zoe shouted after him. “I understand puppies a lot better than I understand little kids.”

      * * *

      It was a delight to tour the training facility with Patrick. Every dog excited him, especially the pups he saw when Zoe kenneled Freya.

      Crouching, she pointed to a pile of K-9 vests. “Remember how Freya acted different when she was wearing a police jacket and badge like those? Some of the dogs we have here are not very friendly even when they aren’t all dressed up, so you shouldn’t try to pet them without asking first. Understand?”

      Patrick’s head bobbed, his expression solemn. “Uh-huh.”

      “Good. Now let’s go find my friends.” She stood and offered her hand. “We need to introduce you and your daddy to Angel.”

      Judging by the way his eyes widened and he tugged on her hand, Zoe assumed the reference had confused him. She explained. “That’s her name, honey. She’s not a real angel, like in the Bible.”

      He seemed to be searching for a word. “Wings?”

      “No, Patrick. No wings. She’s just a really sweet dog. Come on. The trainers are waiting for us.”

      A wry smile on Sean’s face reminded her that Sophie and Ellen had warned him about possible problems. If he wasn’t open to accepting Angel, Zoe wasn’t sure he’d have a second chance. Of course, he wasn’t the only one who needed to display camaraderie. The dog’s reactions were as important as the human’s.

      “I’ll take care of Patrick for a few minutes while you go with Ellen,” Zoe said as soon as pleasantries had been exchanged. “We’ll be right out here, watching.”

      He eyed her casual attire. “You’re not armed today.”

      “Not visibly. This place is always full of officers, so there’s no need to worry. Most of the previous rookie class is still here, working for the DVPD, and some of those in my group stayed over to sub so officers like Shane Weston could go home to Flagstaff for Christmas. I think you’ll like Tristan McKeller when you meet him, too. I mentioned him—he’s a former soldier, same as you.”

      “The same? I doubt that.” He hesitated. “You do understand why I won’t carry a gun, right?”

      “Because you don’t want to have a flashback episode and make a terrible mistake. I get it. But if you think about all that’s happened here and the way you’ve been protected, you’ll see there’s no need to be armed.”

      “I suppose gut feelings don’t count.”

      “Not if they’re yours. Sorry,” she said, smiling to soften the comment even more. “Give it time. Heal. Work through your nervousness with a service dog by your side. Then you won’t even want to be armed.”

      Sean sighed noisily. “I hope you’re right.”

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