Still standing about midway down the corridor, she looked back at him and nodded. “I’ll try to remember.”
Good recovery. None of the men of Hope’s Crossing Kennels, least of all him, was great at saying the right thing at the right time. He didn’t want to tiptoe around on eggshells every single moment with someone he’d be working with on a daily basis. But if she could take constructive feedback, that was a start.
“But, yeah, the GSDs tend to be bigger. It’s a good observation.” She straightened under the kudos, so he figured he was coming out about even with her. Maybe with the right environment, she’d develop a thicker skin and more solid confidence. “They can outweigh a Belgian Malinois by ten or more pounds, and they’ve got some other physical differences you start to notice once you’re around them more.”
She nodded. “But you work with both breeds?”
“They tend to have the traits we’re looking for when we’re training working dogs.” He leaned against the door frame and waited. She didn’t seem to be trying to delay, but she wasn’t rushing to pick a dog to meet, either. “But we would work with other breeds if the dogs themselves had what it takes for the job they need to do. We do assessments when we acquire the dogs.”
She looked at each of the dogs, her face a strange play of expressions. “They’re all pretty intimidating.”
True. He considered how to address that, though, because he wouldn’t soften what any of the dogs were and it didn’t have to be a bad thing. “The dogs we train go on to perform very specific duties, some in active combat situations. Aggression, prey drive, intelligence, and other traits are absolutely necessary to the survival of their human team and to them. That said, we’re also careful to socialize them. We teach them the difference between friend and foe, when they’re on duty and when they’re not. Our dogs aren’t vicious, indiscriminate killers the way some can mistake them for.”
She shook her head. “None of them look…crazy or anything. They’re just intimidating.” She let out a shaky laugh. “Honestly, getting to know dogs like these would go a long way toward making me feel safe, if they liked me.”
He’d take that. It was actually a fairly positive attitude. At least she wasn’t afraid, and wary was smart. “I can’t promise they’ll like you, but I’ve found dogs are generally good judges of character.”
“Huh.” She drew in a breath and let it out. “Then they’ve got better instincts than I do.”
There went her confidence again. Not too long ago, she’d been determined to give herself a chance to judge people correctly. The moment he thought he had a solid read on her, she shifted gears.
“I don’t know about that.” He didn’t go closer, but he did lean in until he caught her attention and drew her gaze back to him. She had to look up through long lashes to do it, and if she’d lifted her chin, she’d have been within easy reach for a kiss. But he was not going to think about that and focused instead on how she was making eye contact more readily now. Good progress for a day. Bad manners on his part, thinking about totally inappropriate things, no matter how pretty the curve of her lips was. He tried what he thought might be an encouraging smile. “You gave this job a shot and survived the day. It could be a good fit.”
She gave him a small smile in return, her sweet lips curving even more temptingly. “We’ll call it a work in progress, then.”
Someone or several someones had done way too much damage to this woman. Whether she decided to stay on for the job or not, he wanted to offer at least one reassurance that she’d believe.
“Well, I’m pretty sure about one thing.” He tried for every drop of articulate skill he had. “What comes next is your choice and no matter what you decide, it’ll be the right thing for you.”
Chapter Four
Elisa stared at him as his words sank in.
He hadn’t tried to convince her to trust him, or even any of the people she’d be working with. And somehow, it made her want to. Trust him, at least.
Alex Rojas had no way of knowing what she’d escaped from, but she wasn’t delusional enough to imagine a perceptive person like him couldn’t figure it out. She hadn’t had enough time to work through her reactions and get them under control yet. Too little time and too many experiences fresh in not only her mind, but her muscle memory.
Perceptive, intelligent men were a threat to her. She should leave before she was too tempted to stay. This was how she’d gotten into trouble in the first place.