He smiled. “I thought it was really nice.”
She lifted her head, her expression empty. “You need to leave.”
“Now?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s 4:38.”
“I don’t care.” She moved across the room, seemingly unaware that she was naked, and began pushing him. “You have to go. Now. Please.”
“Okay, okay. I get the idea. Just let me put my clothes on.”
Shay backed off but only as far as the bed. She grabbed up the sheet and wrapped herself in it.
James shoved a foot into one leg of his jeans he had scooped up off the floor. “Look, I understand if you’re a little weirded out by how fast this all happened.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. You won’t ever understand.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t give me a chance.”
“You don’t know anything at all about me.” Her voice was suddenly all challenge.
“Fair enough.” He paused to wrestle himself into a sweatshirt he’d pulled from his backpack. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know you better.”
He straightened up to look at her. “Because I do, Shay.”
She shook her head again, not looking at him.
He thought about saying something else. But then he realized the argument was over. She’d told him to get out. The message was loud and clear.
James finished dressing in silence.
When he was done she followed him into the living room. “Don’t come back. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t anything.”
James swung around. “Why? Just tell me why. Was it something I did?”
She just stared at him, her expression as closed as a fist.
“Okay. Right.” James glanced down at Bogart, who had been watching them. “Hier.”
Bogart trotted over to his handler’s side.
James made it to the front door before turning back to Shay. “I don’t know all that went on between you and Eric, but don’t judge me by him. Not all men are assholes.”
CHAPTER TEN
Yardley Summers, owner of Harmonie Kennels, held a hand folded over her eyes to shade the rising sun as she watched K-9 partners Officer James Cannon and Bogart go through their paces. It was a drill they had been through so many times they should have been able to do it in their sleep. Yet something was off today. James didn’t seem to fully trust Bogart, keeping him on a short leash. Bogart was clearly insulted by the lack of freedom and giving attitude.
“Let him run. Get out of Bogart’s way.” Her voice carried rapid-fire across the otherwise quiet, misty chill of the morning. Weather was never a factor when they drilled. It only made things more interesting.
She watched as James let out the leash but it wasn’t enough. She’d chosen a routine task for them, pick up the trail of a suspect and track him down. They were botching it.
Clamping down on the temptation to say more, she watched in mute exasperation as two of her best graduates fumbled around like newbies.
Bogart seemed unable to settle down to the task. He kept looking back at his partner for reassurance, as if this were his first trial.
James wasn’t giving back confidence. Instead of smiling and encouraging his partner verbally, his expression was tight and his hand too heavy on the lead.
Bogart began jumping and leaping around James, clearly riled up for the hunt but frustrated by the lack of direction.
Yardley muttered under her breath then gave vent to her feelings. “Just unclip him. Dammit. Give him the scent again and then get out of his goddamn way.”
James did as she directed.
Finally, after another sniff, Bogart swirled around, long tail moving in slower loops as he sniffed and then ran on ahead, free now to find his way. Suddenly he paused and lifted his head. His panting ceased. Two seconds later, he wheeled and headed off into the brush where the culprit had been told to hide.
James ran after him, offering encouragement in a high-pitched rapid tone now that they both knew they had the scent.
Yardley didn’t bother to follow. She knew the conclusion so well it wasn’t necessary. She swore under her breath as she set her cap on her head and then folded her arms, one booted foot thrust forward so that her hips were cocked, to wait for her students to return.