After Meleyna had led Daisy straining away from her leash and with Parker straining forward, we managed to get the two dogs back to the kennel. Meleyna secured Daisy in an empty kennel.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. She ducked into her office and came out with a whiteboard on which she wrote, “Don’t use this door run.” She jogged outside and clipped it to the door of the run the coyote invaded the night before.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“The day clients will start arriving soon. They put up their own dogs, so I don’t want someone picking that run. It needs to be disinfected thoroughly.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sergeant Matthew Rees reporting for duty. There’s not a single surface I can’t clean to a polish with my toothbrush.” I grinned at her. Meleyna pulled herself straighter and spoke in a serious tone.

“Toothbrush, eh? That might be a little extreme and time-consuming. We do have a full range of doggie-safe disinfectants. That should help with the job.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I snapped to attention playfully and then winked at her.

Meleyna smiled. “Let’s go see my grandmother.”

We entered the house, and her grandmother gave both of us a piercing stare.

“So, Meleyna Margaret Harris,” she said. “What cause do you have to make your grandmother worry so?”

“Sorry, grandma, but it wasn’t me that woke you with a phone call. I’m more considerate of your sleep than that.”

“No, it wasn’t you,” she grumbled. “But still. And what did the doctor say?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“The doctor,” I interjected, “said she was benched for a week.”

Meleyna glared at me, but I didn’t care. I’d be damned if I let her get worse by overexerting herself.

“A week?” said Mrs. Harris. “And what are we supposed to do?”

“Matthew is going to help us.”

“At least,” I said. “Until you are both are on your feet.”

“Good,” she replied with a wicked gleam in her eye. “That coyote did us some good.”

“Grandma,” protested Meleyna. But she ignored her.

“I can’t pay much. Room and board that’s for sure.”

“Meleyna has shown me the accommodations.”

“Good. If you bring in any business, you’ll get a cut of that, say forty percent.”

I chuckled. “Say fifty, and you got a deal.”

She laughed. “Sure enough, I like a man that doesn’t take the first thing offered.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Good, then let’s eat.”

“I’ll start breakfast,” Meleyna offered.

“Sit down. I have this handled,” she said.

Mrs. Harris then went to the oven and pulled out warming plates, pancakes, bacon and hash browns.

“You shouldn’t have done this,” scolded Meleyna.

“Nonsense,” she said. “I’m not the invalid you make me out to be. Besides, the doctor said I should exercise.”

“Cooking breakfast is not exercise,” Meleyna replied. “Here, I’ll help you.”

“No,” I cut in. “The doc said you are off the front lines. Let me help you with those platters, Mrs. Harris.”

“That’s kind of you, Matthew.”

Meleyna huffed. “I’m sure the doctor is being overcautious.”

“And I’m sure,” I said unequivocally, “that the doctor has more medical training than you.”

“Here, hun,” said her grandmother. She busily shoved a large amount of food on a plate and set it down in front of Meleyna. My eyes twinkled with laughter as Susan Harris buttered the pancakes and poured syrup over them for her.

“Sure you don’t want to cut them up too?” said Meleyna sourly.

“Hush, girl, and eat your food.”

Parker dropped to the floor heavily and balefully stared at us. He gave a little whine which drew the attention of the three of us.

“Your dog puts the meaning in the phrase ‘puppy dog eyes’,” Meleyna noticed.

“My dog is being a jerk. He just wants bacon.”

“I’m sure he’s hungry,” said Mrs. Harris.

“We don’t usually eat breakfast this early. He can wait.”

“So, no table scraps,” Meleyna asked.

“His trainer, Max, was dead set on any dog getting table scraps. He’d tell me that dogs can get fat too, and there are too many human foods that are bad for dogs, and that they are finding new foods that are bad for dogs all the time.”

“New foods?” she asked around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Yeah. Macadamia nuts.”

“No!” she said in mock horror. “The pups will be so disappointed. Who in hell would feed a dog macadamia nuts?”

“Language,” Mrs. Harris said pointedly.

Meleyna shot her a warning glance.

I shrugged. “Californians?”

Meleyna snorted. “That’s just cold.”

“What?”

“Blaming Californians for the sins of the world.”

“Nah. I blame Washington, DC for that.”

Mrs. Harris and Meleyna exchanged looks, and I realized my joke hit too close to home to be funny. When was I going to realize that my sarcasm wasn’t always appreciated?

“Daisy’s in heat,” Meleyna said breaking the tension.

“How far along is she?”

“Close enough to be interested in Parker here, but not close enough to let him breed her.”

“Just as well. I know Patty wants to breed her, but she’s been mighty particular about the stud. Your dog AKC registered?”

“Yes. Max was very interested in breeding a pure-bred line with the natural traits we look for in service dogs. That’s why Parker isn’t neutered. It’s part of my contract to let Max use him for stud if he proves to be a good service dog.”

“Contract?” Meleyna inquired.

“Yes. This service dog thing is serious business. I had to sign a contract that spelled out my responsibilities to Parker.”

“Sounds like a marriage.”

“I suppose in a way it is. We’re partners, aren’t we, Parker?”

Parker raised his head and wagged his tail.

“He’s a damned good one,” Meleyna replied.

“Most of the time.” I gave a stern look at Parker. “But you broke training today, boy. We can’t have that.”

Parker whined in response to the tone of my voice. He got on all fours.

“Stay, Parker. Lay down,” I ordered. Parker flopped to the floor again, looking distinctly unhappy.

“Don’t be too hard on him,” she said. “Daisy was literally irresistible.”

My slight annoyance at Parker wasn’t just about Daisy though. Parker was acting against his training. He growled at the sheriff which he should not do, and he tried to comfort Meleyna, another thing he should not do. I wondered if I was stressing Parker too much with this trip and if it would be a good idea to go home. It was my job to look after Parker’s welfare as much as Parker’s was to alert me to my mood swings. I had too much invested in Parker and needed him too much to let the dog break his training.

I glanced at Meleyna, who was pushing her food around on her plate. Her blond hair hung endearingly in her eyes as she stared at her food. She was everything and more than I had imagined while I was deployed. The smile that was plastered on the photograph was real, not something freeze frozen by a trick of the camera. And I got to see other things in her face: love and devotion for her grandmother, sexy smirks, and her face in the throes of passion.

Talk about being irresistible.

“After we eat, Matthew, we’ll feed the animals. I’ll talk you through the routine.”

Yeah, that bossy streak was fucking appealing too.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” I said with a smirk.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” she asked.

“You’re the boss,” I replied.

“I like the sound of that.”

* * *

I insisted on washing the dishes amidst the protests of both Meleyna and Mrs. Harris. I could see where both could be hard-headed, so to move things along I had given them the Marine stare and ordered them to sit so I could get the work done.

“Damn it,” Meleyna protested as she, Parker and I walked to the kennel. “I’m not one of the pups.”

“Man or beast get treated the same way by Marines,” I said firmly.

“I thought you said I was the boss.”

“You are. On general principle.”

“General principle?”

“Yup,” I said with a sly grin. “That means you’re the boss, but I’m the general, so I outrank you.”

“Rank? You’re basing your argument on rank?”

“Absofuckinglutely.”

“But you were a sergeant.”

“Your point being?”

“Your argument falls short of general principles.”

We had reached the kennel, and Meleyna unlocked the door. I followed closely behind along with Parker, and before the door shut, I put my hand on her good arm.

“What?” Meleyna said, turning to face me. And I leaned in and captured her full bottom lip between mine. The kiss deepened, and our tongues tangled, our fronts were pressed together. I could feel the softness of her breasts against me, and the rapid beating of her heart and I folded my arms around this woman who had me in knots, trying to pull her closer. But she pulled away.

“How’s that for general principles,” I husked.

“I think,” Meleyna said a little breathlessly, “you need to work on your arguments. But it would be very bad for the clients to see us make out, so we have to cool it in the workspace.”

Okay. I understood that. But it was going to be damn difficult to work next to her, especially when all my dick wanted was to get as close to her as possible.