Page 28 of Trusting a Warrior

What was he saying, that Bosch had bitten him? What would make a dog turn on his handler? Holding the phone high, she peered into Bosch’s intelligent brown eyes.

“Why would you do that?”

Bosch gazed back at her, his ears upright, chest up and out, for all the world looking most pleased with himself. Damn, it sounded crazy, but the expression on his face reminded her of someone...

But who?

When it hit her a split-second later, she clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggle. He reminded her of Geo himself—completely self-assured, with a bone-deep confidence that bordered on arrogant.

“Oh, my God, Bosch. You’re a SEAL in canine form, aren’t you?”

Of course he was. Spec ops dogs would have to have much the same traits as their human counterparts, who were all Type A mixes of stubbornness and competitiveness. But what’d happened between Geo and Bosch to cause this?

She couldn’t wait to find out.

Heading into the kitchen to make sure all the Chinese food was put away, the new journal sitting on the table caught her eye. Lani glared at it.

“Get those thoughts down,” Maura had said at the end of their session when she’d handed the journal to her. “Let them flow. Even if some days all you manage to write is what you had for dinner, I want you to get used to putting your thoughts and emotions into words. You’ve been holding them inside for far too long.”

Daily homework. Great.

With a grunt, she snatched up her favorite pen with the purple ink and flipped the journal open to the first pristine white page. The first few sentences came out stilted, flippant, as she attempted to describe her day. When her hand started to cramp, she tossed the pen down and slammed the journal closed. “Ugh, this is dumb.”

How was writing stuff down supposed to help her accomplish jack-shit anyway? All the assignment had done so far was contribute to her ongoing sense of failure, and that was something she definitely didn’t need.

She could manage that part all on her own, thank you very much.

Giving up for the moment, Lani grabbed her tea mug and headed to the living room and her couch. She got comfortable, then took a sip of the fragrant brew while she regarded the phone resting on her thigh.

Unable to help herself, she opened the picture again, this time ignoring the dog to focus on Geo. He looked sweaty, dirty, as if he’d just completed an exercise. She traced her eyes over his camo pants and boots, his ridged abs and well-defined chest. That wound on his arm had to hurt, yet he was crouching next to Bosch as if they were still best friends. What in the world...?

She dropped her head to the back of the couch and blew out a long, slow breath. “I can’t believe I’m talking to another spec ops guy,” she said to her ceiling. “And I really like him. Why can’t he be a lawyer or something? Ugh.”

The ceiling didn’t have an opinion to offer her, so she reached for her mug again. As she did, the journal caught her eye. Pulling it to her, she traced her finger over the drawing on the cover, that of a little boy and girl holding hands, the thought bubble over the girl’s head reading, “You’re the peanut butter to my jelly.”

Peanut butter. Rhys’s Peanut Butter Cup.

“Write it all down.” Maura’s voice echoed in her head. “No matter what it’s about. Put your feelings into words as best you can. Scream, cry, get angry, mourn. No one will ever read it but you.”

Grabbing up the pen, Lani started to write:

Hey, Rhys, I miss you. I miss your smile, your stupid jokes, and that goofy laugh that always made me laugh, too. I miss your friendship. It scares me to think I might not have that anymore. After all, I’ve had it for most of my life, and all my best—and worst—memories have you in them. It’s so fucking hard to think of making memories without you.

I have to try, though. For your sake, and mine, I’m gonna try, and maybe someday we can build a friendship that isn’t based on me needing you anymore. I’ve gotten so used to needing you, Rhys, that I have no sense of my own strength, or who I want to be. Well, except a good mom. Now that I know. It’s a start, isn’t it?

And oh, by the way, I have a date with someone. A nice guy, funny and sweet, and damn if his voice doesn’t make me shiver. Mmm.

It’s really too bad he’s a SEAL.

Chapter Seven

Geo shifted uncomfortably on Lani’s doorstep, his feet hot and sweaty in the unfamiliar loafers.

The khaki pants he wore were rumpled, and his dark blue polo shirt had a musty smell from being crammed at the bottom of his dresser drawer.

Sighing against the butterflies in his stomach, he rapped twice on the door and stood back under the porch light so she could get a good look at him out of the peephole. After a moment came the scratchy sound of the bolt turning, and then the door swung open.

Geo gulped. “Hi.”