Rainie thought of her wonderful night with Jake and how he seemed to enjoy having her in the clinic. He never treated her as something…less. Then again, he was a special sort of man. Maybe his years in the military had changed his perception of what was important.

However, if Jake’s family thought their precious son might date a woman like Rainie, they’d undoubtedly react just as cruelly as Mrs. Kouros.

Rainie’s chest constricted as her resolve deepened. Once her time at the clinic ended, she’d hunt for a job far away, maybe in the Northeast. When she eventually found someone to love, her manners and attire would be perfect—just as Miss Lily had advocated—and her past would be left far, far behind.

And she’d never return to Florida.

Chapter Eight

With Mrs. Morelli’s miniature poodle cuddled in one arm, Rainie stood in front of Jake’s pale yellow, two-story house and pressed the doorbell.

No one answered. As she breathed in the moist green scent of freshly cut grass, she listened.

No footsteps. The “horse country” was so quiet, she could hear the rumble of cars on a distant highway. The birds cheeping in the trees. And the thumping of Rhage’s tail.

Hoping Jake would unload some of his grief, Rainie had tied Rhage on the shaded porch. He sat on his own special blanky, watching her closely. After being abandoned once, he wouldn’t trust easily again.

She knew how he felt.

At the low whine of the dog she carried, she sighed. When Saxon had asked her to deliver Guido, he’d said Jake planned to spend his Saturday off at home. A truck sat in the driveway, so Jake was here.

But everyone at the clinic knew he didn’t always carry his phone.

She turned in a circle. Tightly woven fencing enclosed the house’s acreage. In the long expanses of green, colorful patches heralded the gardenias and azalea bushes beneath the oaks. But no Jake.

Maybe behind the house? Didn’t he have a pool? Since no fence separated the front from the back, Rainie walked around the side of the house. Maybe she’d get lucky and find him sunbathing in the nude.

The poor excuse for a joke didn’t lighten her mood. She was sad and even unhappier she’d have to break the bad news to Jake.

Behind the house, a screen-caged octagonal pool sparkled in the sunlight. Bright red-and-white striped deck chairs were scattered around the patio. Under the shade of the overhang, Jake slept on a lounge chair. He wasn’t naked, unfortunately, although the bare chest was a good start.

Rainie opened the patio’s screen door, deliberately making enough noise to waken him. Smart people didn’t sneak up on war zone veterans.

He was on his feet before she had the door closed. “Rainie,” he said slowly. Absently, he rubbed the sexy dark stubble on his jaw. His day off meant he hadn’t trimmed his beard. He looked…rough. Dangerous.

Tempting.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I—” Her momentary lust disappeared as she recalled her reason for the visit. God, how could she tell him? Her heart ached as she searched for words that wouldn’t hurt him. There were none. Mrs. Morelli passed on last night.

Jake’s brows drew together as he studied her face. His gaze dropped to the dog. When his jaw hardened enough to draw the skin taut, she knew he’d recognized Guido and why she’d come.

Grief filled his eyes for a moment before his expression smoothed out. He walked over and took the dog from her arms. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” She’d only met the tiny elderly woman once, but her sweetness had drawn Rainie in.

One of Jake and Saxon’s first clients, Mrs. Morelli had requested they care for Guido if anything happened to her. Like Miss Lily, she’d viewed her mortality with equanimity.

“I appreciate you making the trip.”

“Of course. I—”

“I’m sure you have things to do, and I should get Guido settled in.” He walked away.

She stared at his back, surprised. Had she ever seen him so brusque? Only, he wasn’t deliberately being rude. His normally smooth voice was almost harsh—as if forced through a tight throat. He made her want to cry for him…because he couldn’t.

Jake stalked into his house, knowing he’d been discourteous, wanting to apologize, but not trusting his voice.

Goddammit.

He wasn’t prepared for this. At the hospital last night, Violetta’s doctor said she had a good chance of recovering. Apparently not.

“Take care of my Guido, Jake,” she’d asked him. Her only concern had been for her dog. God, Violetta. His chest hurt—ached like a fresh stab wound.

At an unhappy whine, he cuddled the shivering dog closer. Yes, they both knew the world was a sadder place today.

Lonelier, as well. His footsteps echoed in the tile-floored room, emphasizing the emptiness. “Hadn’t planned on having a dog, buddy,” he muttered. “You’d better get along with cats, or we’re going to have problems.”

His two cats had hidden under his bed, but once they saw the intruder was a small canine—rather than a human—they’d be out and ready for war.

Speaking of problems… “I bet Rainie didn’t give you a chance to piss, did she?” After detouring to the kitchen for a leash, he took the dog out the front door and stopped.

An ancient Civic sat in his driveway, and Rhage lay curled on a blanket on the porch. Rainie hadn’t left? Jake stopped to pet Rhage, then walked Guido around the side of the house, retracing Rainie’s path to the pool.

And there she sat with her back to him, in his lounge chair. She was watching the back door, probably hoping he’d settle before she knocked.

“Problems?” he asked.

She jumped a good foot—and had a fucking cute scream. Turning, she gave him a glare. “You sadist, you almost gave me a heart attack.” She patted her chest, making her breasts jiggle in a way he had to appreciate.

For a full minute, he forgot his grief. “Sorry.”

“I was worried about you,” she said as he and Guido entered the screened area.

Once unleashed, Guido ran over to give her an enthusiastic greeting.

“You act like you haven’t seen me for a month,” she muttered, pulling the wiggling dog onto her lap.

“He’s nervous,” Jake said. “He knows something is wrong, and his person isn’t here to fix it.” Would never be here.

“Yeah.” She snuggled Guido closer, murmuring, “It’ll get better, honey.”

Longing whispered through Jake. Lucky little pup to be the recipient of her affections and soothing caresses. “I notice you didn’t leave.”

“Observant that way, are you?” She set the dog down and held out her hand, expecting Jake to help her to her feet.

Manipulative little brat. He pulled her up and smiled at the logo on her pink button-up shirt: Audit Me – Audit Me Now! “What did you want to talk about?”

“Nothing, actually.” She slid her arms around him. “I’ve never seen anyone so in need of a good hug, and I stayed to give you one.”

He froze, almost hearing Gunny’s snort of disgust, hearing him lecture: “Pussy Doms need comforting. Real men don’t.”

“You’re here to care for the submissive. To take what you want. Not to lean on them.”

“Stand on your own fucking feet.”

But he wasn’t leaning…exactly. With a sigh, Jake drew the sweet submissive closer and let her tenderness ease the chill in his heart. Something fuzzy settled onto his bare foot.

He pulled back far enough to see Guido lying beside Rainie with his muzzle on Jake’s foot.

“I think that’s a dog’s version of a group hug. Or maybe he’s hungry,” Rainie said. She smiled up at him, innocence filling her face. “Me, too. Are you cooking me supper, then?”

He stared. She wasn’t asking him if he wanted company, but just…pushing…herself into his evening. And fuck, he didn’t want to be alone, especially not with a little dog who would constantly remind him of his loss. “Ah…how do you feel about grilled steak?”

“Warmly. I could feel quite warmly toward a good steak dinner.” She bent to pat Guido. “Let me get Rhage, and I’ll even help cook.”

* * * *

Several hours later, Rainie watched as Jake rose to put the DVD away.

He’d tossed the back cushions of his toast-colored sectional onto the floor, leaving the wide bottom cushion for them to lie on side-by-side. It had been a comfortable way to enjoy television, but the evening had reached an end. She’d better head home.

With a sigh, she sat up and swung her legs to the floor.

Before she could stand, he rejoined her on the couch. “What did you think of the movie?”

“Galaxy Quest isn’t bad,” she said, judiciously. “Good choice.”

He snorted. “Considering you had to have a funny movie with a romance and a happy ending, I’d say I did an excellent job.”

“Hey, I gave you lots of alternatives.”

“Sweetling, I have balls. I’m not allowed to watch movies with names like Runaway Bride or 27 Dresses. At least, not in the first month of screwing around.” His dark green eyes caught hers, held them, as he drew his finger across her lips. “We’re not permitted a ‘cute’ romance at all…unless it’s horror, sci-fi, or has really explicit sex.”