Page 23 of Trusting a Warrior

Her breath caught.

“Hey, Geo,” she answered, praying that she sounded natural and breezy and not like her heart was threatening to pound its way out of her chest. Which it totally was.

“Hey, you.”

Oh, hello, sexy voice. Lani shivered.

“Did you go today?”

Surprised that he’d actually remembered the date of her appointment, she croaked, “Yep, I did.”

“Good for you. How, uh, was it?”

“Well, honestly, it sucked like you wouldn’t believe.”

He gave an audible wince. “Yikes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My therapist warned me I’d feel worse before I feel better.” Lani put her legs up on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle. “There’s ten years’ worth of shit to unpack, you know.”

He didn’t reply, his sudden discomfort radiating through the phone, along with the awkwardness of two strangers separated by hundreds of miles being confronted with a difficult topic. Taking pity on him, she changed the subject. “What’re you doing in Arizona?”

“Desert training.” He grunted. “It’s about a bazillion degrees here, which is good practice for us since we’ll eventually be going, um—”

“To a galaxy far, far away?”

“Yeah.” His relief at not being pressed on exactly where rang in his voice. “You understand that I can’t say, right?”

“Of course I do. OPSEC, the subject of every pre-deployment family meeting ever.”

Geo’s chuckle this time sounded much more genuine, and the husky sound brushed along her skin, tightening her nipples and making her breasts ache. She cupped her hand over one and squeezed.

Ugh. Stupid hormones.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “How’s Bosch?”

“He’s good. Chilling in his crate.”

“Is he there right now?”

“Yep. Right next to my bed.”

She could hear rustling, as if Geo was moving around on crisp sheets. She shoved away the visual. “He doesn’t sleep with you?”

“Nah, he’s not my pet. When we’re home, he lives in the base kennels, not with me. On the road, he has a crate.”

“How long have you worked with him?”

“About three years.”

“Did you pick him or did he pick you? Or didn’t you have a choice?”

“I had a choice, and shit, that first day was insane.” He paused, and Lani heard what sounded like him punching up his pillows. “Sorry. Just getting comfortable.”

A frisson of warmth went through her at the thought of him settling down in bed to talk to her. Stretching up to turn the table lamp off, she curled up on her side on the couch, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. The TV flickered silently in front of her, the Friends gang drinking their coffee and laughing.

“So I walked into this kennel,” Geo said, “and was immediately overwhelmed by what seemed like hundreds of barking, whirling, high-energy dogs. I, uh, was actually afraid of a few.”

“Yeah?”