small cough and changed the subject to a more practical matter. “SDPD will pick up the cost of Zeke’s treatment and rehabilitation. Whatever it takes, just do what’s best for him. We’ll help the family with some retraining so Zeke can adapt to being a pet. Jeff was a good cop...a good man. He’ll be missed and not just by his family.”
“I’m so sorry,” Madison repeated in a whisper, and briefly rested a hand on his forearm.
“Thanks.” The sense of loss and futility, the sudden rush of emotion, was threatening to strangle Rick. He coughed again to try to cover up his feelings, but the sorrow was backing up in his throat. He grabbed his duffel and held it out to her. “We got off on the wrong foot the other day. I brought you something. Sort of a peace offering.”
Her gaze slid from his eyes to the black, well-worn bag and back. “You’re giving me a used gym bag?”
His nervous, amused laughter burst forth. He wasn’t usually this awkward around women. But then he generally didn’t start out from such a deficit. “No. Of course not!” He chuckled and fumbled with the zipper before placing the bag on the chair and unzipping it. He reached in and handed her a brightly wrapped bunch of flowers. “These are for you.”
Her eyebrows seemed to be stuck under her bangs, but at least the corners of her mouth had turned up. She took the bouquet from him. “You brought me flowers?”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Yeah. It’s a small token of apology. I was a jerk and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She raised the bouquet to her nose and took a deep breath. “I love freesia. They smell heavenly.”
He had no idea which of the colorful flowers was freesia, but he’d have to remember the name. It had evidently done the trick. He was surprised by and appreciative of the ease with which she’d put their awkward beginning behind her. No stalling. No making him grovel.
She retrieved a jug from the cabinets and filled it with water. When she’d placed the flowers in it, she lifted them to her nose again, closing her eyes as she inhaled. She opened her eyes again, and her gaze locked with his. He could have sworn he heard the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away as they stared at each other. There was something unfathomable in the depths of her eyes. “Sniff...” he finally said.
Madison smiled, took a treat out of her lab coat pocket and offered it to the dog.
Sniff accepted it politely. She lowered to one knee beside the dog. “What brings you here today, my friend?” she asked while she checked Sniff’s eyes and heart rate.
Rick noted the tender, caring way Madison touched and manipulated Sniff’s joints. She immediately eased up when he flinched as she moved his hind left leg. She raised her eyes, a hand on Sniff’s back. “Cruciate ligament acting up?”
Rick nodded. She’d obviously checked the file. “I know he’s not that old, but I want his policing days behind him soon.”
Madison had a thoughtful expression on her face. “He’s more than a tool to you, isn’t he?”
Through her work, she must have discovered that very few handlers were able to maintain the detachment from their dogs to consider them “tools.” Rick and Sniff were a team. He cared about Sniff as much as he cared about his two-legged colleagues. He nodded again, slowly.
As he watched Madison continue her exam, he felt a peculiar churning in his gut. Yeah, he’d had breakfast at six, grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch and it was almost five now, but he didn’t think the sensation had anything to do with being hungry.
Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He thrust his hands back into his pants pockets. He didn’t want to dwell on the reason he’d done it—the fact that all of a sudden he was tempted to reach out and discover the texture of Madison’s springy red hair or how smooth her complexion really was. He liked women. Sure. Too much sometimes. But this felt different somehow, and he’d just met her. He considered how gentle she was with his dog.
That’s it! It was Sniff, he rationalized. Anyone who loved his dog was okay by him. That was all. He cleared his throat, wondering if he was coming down with a bug, and tried to ignore the strange sensation in his stomach.
Madison cocked her head slightly and shone a light into Sniff’s right ear. “You would’ve initiated the process to retire Zeke, even if I hadn’t bullied you into it,” she said, switching the light to the dog’s other ear.
Rick laughed. The thought that she’d be able to bully him into anything struck him as ludicrous—but judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t amused. “Yeah,” he said, sobering. “Of course. Zeke’s earned retirement.” Seeing that she was about to give Sniff a cortisone injection for the pain in his leg, he bent down to soothe and distract his dog.
Rick’s head was only a foot or so from hers, and her scent swirled around him. It was something subtle and musky. It caused an uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck. He reached behind him to scratch at it. “So has Sniff,” he went on. “And I don’t want him getting injured to earn it.”
Madison looked up at him again, and he noticed that her green eyes were specked with gold, the irises rimmed with it. “Sorry,” he murmured, “what was that?” He’d entirely missed what she’d said.
She smiled again. “I asked what the SDPD usually does with service dogs when they retire. You told me what’s going to happen with Zeke. Is that typical? And what’ll happen to Sniff once he retires?” she asked while uncapping the hypodermic needle.
He shrugged. “In most cases, if a dog’s handler is able to, he or she will generally keep the dog. Sniff will live out his life with me.”
Madison gave Sniff his shot, the dog barely noticing the pinprick sensation. Seeing the look of understanding and concern in her eyes, Rick felt even more drawn to her.
“Jagger—our captain—he’s having a barbecue for the unit this weekend. On Sunday.” The words tumbled out before he realized he’d said them. Her eyes were questioning. She was no doubt trying to figure out what his declaration had to do with her. Before he could question his own sanity, he barreled on. “You’ve met Jagger and most of the unit already?”
She nodded, uncertainty still evident on her face.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. They both rose, and Sniff danced between them, knowing the routine well enough that he expected a dog treat after an exam. Madison didn’t disappoint him and offered him a biscuit she extracted from a glass jar on the counter, slipping some extras in her pocket.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” He must have missed part of the conversation again. He didn’t understand the question.
“Why are you asking me to go with you?”
What was she expecting? It was just a spontaneous thing. Did she have to analyze it?
She must have sensed his confusion and clarified. “Are you inviting me so you can introduce me to the whole unit? To help me fit in?”
He laughed. “No. I’m asking you as...as my date.” He grinned, hoping it would seal the deal. He really wanted to get to know her better. The more he saw of her, the more he liked her.
Madison bent down to scratch Sniff behind the ears, pulling out another treat from her pocket and presenting it to him.
The fact that she seemed to be thinking about his invitation wasn’t a good sign. At least she hadn’t given him an outright no. But the “no” was coming. Rick could feel it. He was seldom wrong about women’s reactions to him. He supposed it would be understandable if she declined. They hadn’t had the smoothest of introductions, and he had to accept responsibility for that. He assumed his customary stance of hands in pockets, anticipating rejection.
Madison held his gaze for a long moment, until a smile spread across her face. “Sure. Why not?”