he asked, sounding mildly annoyed. He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, as if he was getting ready to pounce.
Mary noted the movement and shook her head. “I think we’ve done enough obedience training for one day. There’s a lot more for you to learn. I have something else in mind for you right now.”
Eli groaned. “Don’t tell me there’s paperwork.” He shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. Of course there’s paperwork. I’m a cop, and I’m still on the clock.”
“No paperwork. Not today, anyway.”
“Whew. Glad to hear it. Paperwork is the least favorite part of my job. I like to be up and active.” He stretched side to side as if getting ready for a run.
“Then this next activity will be perfect for you.”
“Yeah? What am I doing?”
“You, plural,” she reminded him. “You’re a unit now. I assure you there will be plenty of movement involved—for both of you. I want you to run through a confidence course.”
Chapter Three
A confidence course?
What was that supposed to mean? It felt like a personal dig, right into his rib cage. Was his lack of assurance so obvious that she felt the need to fix it? Was he wearing a flag on his back?
Great. It was only day one of training, and he was already failing miserably at his new assignment. She’d already figured him out, even if she was too kind to admit as much. How was he going to prove himself to her after this, never mind the whole department? Indignity chewed at his gut.
“What’s a confidence course?” He squared his shoulders and lowered his eyebrows, blockading his emotions behind steel doors in the furthest recesses of his heart. All he could do now was redouble his efforts to appear impervious to his circumstances and completely at ease with his dog.
“Loosen up,” she murmured, her voice rich and reassuring.
As if he could relax.
Another emotional jab, this time a direct uppercut to the jaw. She certainly had his number.
“Nothing to get stressed about. I just want you to run Bullet through some of these obstacles here.” She gestured toward the agility stations positioned across the lawn. “We won’t do all of them. Just enough for you to get your feet wet.”
“Right. Then it’s an obstacle course.” Many of the hurdles looked like the ones he’d faced when he was at the police academy. He’d excelled there, first in his class. Physically and mentally, he’d conquered the course and bested his fellow officers with ease. It had seemed so simple back then. All he had to do was let his aggressive nature take over, and he’d blown the competition away.
He wasn’t so sure he was going to do as well on this one. He could only speak for himself and not for his barking teammate. And he wasn’t the least interested in unleashing Bullet’s aggressive nature.
No, thank you.
That, he supposed, was the crux of the problem. He was used to fending for himself. Now he’d been thrown into a situation where he had to work as a team. It didn’t help that his partner was an uncompromising canine.
“Let’s not call it an obstacle course,” Mary suggested, stroking her finger down the perfect little dimple in her chin. “I don’t want you to think of the stations that way. Bullet will sense it, if you tense up, so I want you to let loose and have fun with it.”
“Have fun with it,” he repeated blandly. Yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon.
“I prefer to think of the stations as challenges. It’s mostly a team-building exercise, if you will, as you learn to navigate the course together. You’re the unit leader, so it’s up to you to set the pace. Snap the lead on to his collar and let’s get started,” she continued, handing him a six-foot leather leash.
“Which one do you want me to do first?” He attached the lead, gaining Bullet’s immediate attention. Now would be a good time for him to prove himself. He only wished he felt more certain of his success.
“Let’s go with the low hurdle right there. Set yourself at an easy jog and—”
Eli didn’t let her finish. He bolted into motion with Bullet at his heel. When he reached the hurdle, he leaped over it with ease, expecting the dog to follow. Instead, Bullet sidestepped and ran around the jump, then turned in a circle around Eli, twisting him into a knot with the leash.
Making him look like an utter fool. Thank you, muttinski.
Thoroughly exasperated, he spun around on his heels, trying to extricate himself from the six feet of leather cord. It was all he could do to stay upright, and the last thing he needed was to face-plant himself in the dirt right in front of Mary. He imagined she was probably laughing at him already.
“You almost had it right,” she said, reaching down to untangle the leash from Eli’s ankles. She didn’t appear to have found his distress amusing. He wanted to hug her. “There was only one minor detail you might want to work on.”
“Only one?” Eli snorted. He’d already made enough mistakes to fill an entire stack of Mary’s clipboards. “And that would be?”
“Well,” Mary said, pursing her lips and then breaking into a smile. “Theoretically Bullet is the one who is supposed to navigate the hurdle. You’re there for moral support. It was a nice jump, though. I’d give you a nine out of ten for technique.”
He ought to be—expected to be—embarrassed at her teasing and laughter, but, for some unknown reason, she had put him at ease. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the sweetness of her smile, but even though there was no doubt she was poking fun at him, he didn’t feel like she was mocking him. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to realize she was having fun with him, making light and joy of what would otherwise have been painfully awkward.
After being utterly humiliated by Natalie, Eli didn’t trust women as far as he could throw them. But Mary was different. With her, what you saw was what you got. No games. It would have been enough for him to relax and feel comfortable around her—if it weren’t for the dogs.
“You want me to give it another go?” He quirked his lips upward to show he was still in the running.
She smiled back at him and nodded, waving a hand toward the hurdle.
“All right, buddy, let’s show the pretty lady how a K-9 jumps.” He jogged toward the hurdle with Bullet on his left, and then dodged to the side as they approached the station. He wasn’t giving the dog anywhere else to go but over, and he expected Bullet would have no problem complying. He was a large, energetic dog, and the jump was a small one. How hard could this be?
His plan was working well, all the way to the last moment, when Bullet pulled up and sat firmly on his haunches. Eli barely had time to react, changing direction just before the leash became taut. He didn’t want to choke the dog, but he didn’t want to land in an inglorious heap, either.
“Come on, big guy. Over the hurdle.” He yanked
