Probably unaware of his line of thought, Lyn shrugged. “Training is usually for the human half of the pair anyway. The canine just needs clear leadership.”
He snorted. Once in a while—okay, more than sometimes—she sounded like a textbook waiting to be written. If it’d been anyone else, Cruz would’ve probably rolled his eyes. But from her, he’d kind of gotten to enjoy listening. It wasn’t as if she was wrong.
Occasionally. But not always.
A movement at the edge of his peripheral vision drew his attention. “Why don’t we talk about it more after you get back to the kennels? You and Sophie must have more shopping planned.”
As much as he hated to cut this conversation short, there was something not right out here.
Lyn’s smile faded a fraction. “Oh. Yeah.”
On one hand, he hated to dim her happiness even a little bit. On the other, if she was somewhat disappointed to have him suggest she go do other things—especially after a week of working side by side with him from dawn to dusk—maybe she’d reconsider her decision to keep things just professional between them.
Something to file away for later. For now, he wanted to send her and Sophie safely on their way so he could satisfy curiosity.
“I’m glad I ran into you today, though.” He made sure to catch her gaze and hold it until the blush came back into her cheeks. He might be pushing his luck but hopefully it didn’t harm his chances to let her know he was still interested.
“I am too.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip.
Instant hard-on. Even more because it’d been a self-conscious reaction on her part and not a purposeful invitation. Lyn didn’t do coy as far as he could tell.
He watched her head on down the street and disappear into the same store Sophie had gone back into. He’d bet money Sophie had been in there watching them the whole time. Childhood friend of Forte’s or not, she’d become a little sister to all of them. Complete with the nosy tendencies.
With both of them occupied, he started his own easy walk down the street toward his car.
His friend, the tourist who was not a tourist, finally left his perch by the wall and meandered off on his own. Only the man’s path took him toward the stores.
Cruz let a group of passing tourists obscure his line of sight for a minute and cut down one of the small alleys. Two minutes later he was back on the main street a couple of blocks up from where he’d been with a clear view of the stores where Sophie and Lyn were shopping.
The other man’s target might not be anyone Cruz knew. But he was too close to the ladies.
A minute later, Cruz was on another one of those little side streets coming up behind his not-a-tourist leaning against the wall pretending to wait for someone inside a store.
Cruz advanced at a leisurely pace so his footsteps wouldn’t cue his target in and deliberately shoulder-bumped the guy as he passed.
“Oh, sorry.” He turned to face the guy, looking him straight in the eye.
The man stood straight, balanced forward over his toes, definitely ready for action. “No worries, man.”
Cruz studied him. “You sure about that?”
A pause. The man’s eyes narrowed. “Just out for a little sightseeing.”
“This small town is good for that.” Cruz was absolutely sure the guy couldn’t care less about small-town atmosphere and historic points of interest.
The man smiled, the kind that left a greasy sort of residue impressed in the mind. “Ex-military, right? You’ve got the look. What service?”
Yeah, the other man had the look, too, despite the unkempt facial hair and generally sloppy way he dressed. Far away, he’d appeared fine, but up close his t-shirt was stained and left partially untucked. His jeans were torn in places no fashion designer would’ve planned.
“Air Force.” Cruz left it at that.
“Navy SEAL.” The other man jabbed his own chest with a thumb.
Well, said a lot about a man when he felt the need to specify Special Forces. Cruz was willing to bet the other man wasn’t active duty anymore. Wouldn’t be hard to find out.
Either way, even a man who could reach the level of skill to be Special Forces could decline, lose his edge. Combat shaped soldiers in a variety of ways and as much as people wanted to think it was for the good, sometimes men got twisted. Or they already were and service had brought out the jagged edges in them. This man was not a shining example of a military hero by anyone’s definition.
“What brings you to New Hope?” Cruz genuinely wondered.
“Ah, let’s be real. I’m following your girl.” The other man shrugged. “You’d already figured it out or you wouldn’t have dropped by for this…discussion.”
He’d guessed. Had been hoping not. Cruz was glad they weren’t going to pretend coincidence. But then again, the guy being forthright was its own kind of message.
“Why?” Cruz was getting tired of the chitchat.