Just as she took a bite, she saw him reach for the back of his T-shirt and pull. The deep valley of his spine came into view like a canyon. The edge of his shirt slid higher, revealing skin the color of copper pulled tight over dense muscles that rippled and bunched as he moved. The broad mesas of his shoulder blades appeared as he pulled the tee over his head.
The glorious male striptease was not all that had her paused in mid-bite. There was a series of long scars running like silver through the bronze contours of his lower back and around his left side before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. Suddenly the violence that had taken his leg was all too real for her.
He tossed the damp shirt in the back of the truck then moved around to the driver’s side, revealing a slight limp he could no longer hide. Jori followed him with her eyes. The keep-out intimidation of his attitude suddenly had another interpretation. Pain. The emotion in his gaze, so sharp, so familiar—was it an echo of his lingering pain?
She’d read a lot about the needs of disabled veterans in preparation for the week. Pain both real and what was called phantom, because it came from limbs no longer there, was often a constant companion for amputees.
Jori let her breath out slowly. She hadn’t needed a whopping helping of sexual magnetism to start her day. Especially when there was nothing she planned to do about it. But the scars made Battise all too real.
She felt a twinge of shame. She’d been ogling him as if he were some book cover model showing off his perfect body for her enjoyment. But he was all too human. His arrogance was more likely the shield of a proud man who had lost, and suffered, and survived.
Jori set her breakfast aside uneaten. Suddenly all she wanted to do was make his life better. If he’d let her.
Jori put her SUV in gear, wincing as the gears of the 150,000-plus-mile vehicle clunked before meshing. Trust her to fall for the moody guy who wouldn’t know a good time if it fell on him. Maybe if she fell on him …
That’s just prison talking, Jori.
CHAPTER THREE
“Maybe if we paired him with Bruno?”
“Bruno’s not ready.” Kelli Miller, owner of Warriors Wolf Pack, sat with her sneakers propped on the desk in her office. “Besides, the dog chooses the vet. That’s our policy.”
Jori nodded. Samantha had practically Velcroed herself to Battise the first day. She wouldn’t leave his side even when beckoned by other vets. “But Mr. Battise said, I quote, ‘I’m not a doodle kind of guy.’ I don’t think he even likes dogs.”
“That’s your impression?” Kelli’s lips twitched as if she knew something Jori didn’t. “Hold that thought.” She rose from her chair.
Immediately the coal-black Lab mix named Troy, dozing at Kelli’s feet, sat up and thrust his muzzle forward as he gazed up at her for instruction. Kelli made the sign for stay then went to push her office door closed before turning back to lean against it as she faced Jori.
“Veterans come to us for help. We don’t need them to be grateful, happy, or all fuzzy about what we do. Mr. Battise came for a reason. What do you know about him?”
Jori shrugged. “He suffers from PTSD.” And he was hot. But she doubted Kelli wanted to hear that.
“Anything else?”
Jori shook her head. “Unlike the other veterans, he doesn’t talk much.” And then only in intimidating terms.
“Then I suggest you make it your business to get to know him. I’ll pair you two together today for individual work. Once you know his story, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a way to make Samantha work for him. That’s the most important part of our job.”
Jori knew this was true but wasn’t at all certain about her ability to fill that need with Battise. “Shouldn’t he be with someone who has more experience, like you?”
Kelli eyed her appraisingly. “You’re a certified service dog trainer, Jori. You’re a natural with our animals and they know it. I understand why you have trust issues. But WWP believes in you. Don’t you think it’s time you trusted yourself enough to do the job you’re qualified for?”
“Yes, ma’am.” WWP had a motto they lived by: There’s a useful place for everyone and everything. She had more reason than most to know that it was true. Now she’d been assigned to prove it. To Battise.
However, getting close to a man who could kick-start her libido with just a glance was going to be a challenge. Getting him to talk about himself when he seemed to think “Hi” was a complete conversation was going to be even harder.
Jori reached down to scratch Troy behind the ears. “I’d better go. Class is about to start.”
Jori’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket as she entered the main room. She glanced at the display. Her mother. Again. Time to stop avoiding the inevitable. She took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, Mom.”
“Thank goodness. I was getting worried. I’m trying to respect your boundaries, Jori. But honestly, it’s not easy when you won’t even return my calls.”
“Sorry.” Jori felt her throat tightening. “Hang on.”