“I am.” Wendy nodded. “Which is part of the reason I’ve taken Jedi. As his foster, I’m footing any further medical bills plus the cost of his feeding and have taken over his training, too.”

  “Yeah, that was so sweet,” Elise said and smiled. “But they’re talking about maybe having to separate Salty and Pepper since no one’s come forward who is willing to take both of them.”

  Salty and Pepper were, respectively, a cat and dog duo who were believed to have been the personal pets of the now-jailed backyard breeder. The two were inseparable. And while Pepper was sweet-natured, Salty lived up to his name and didn’t seem to like anyone, creating another obstacle to getting him adopted.

  “I sure hope not,” Wendy dropped to her chair, a wrench in her gut. “They’re family. They need to stick together. They clearly love each other, but more than that, they look to each other for security and—” She stopped, realizing that her own emotional past was rising too close to the surface.

  “I agree completely, which is why the animal rescue needs a fundraiser,” Elise said, coming alive as she sat forward, her long brown hair curling around her shoulders giving her a softness that Wendy had never had. “I think we should—”

  “I want to run a dog fashion show as a part of this year’s Spring Forest fall festival,” Regina butted in, her louder voice overpowering her niece’s. “Each dog will have a sponsor from a local business, and all money will go directly to Furever Paws.”

  Wendy wasn’t a fashion-show type of girl, but she could see many of the town’s residents getting into the spirit of the thing. “It’s a great idea.”

  “You’re a business owner,” Regina pointed out as she handed Wendy a piece of paper. “I figured you would want to sponsor a dog, so here are the details, with a sponsorship form at the bottom.”

  Wendy glanced at the price. “Of course, fine,” she said. “But, just so you know, I’m not going to sign up as an accounting business. I’ll do it in the name of Pets for Vets.”

  Looking satisfied that she’d gotten what she’d come for, Regina rose to her feet, Elise jumping up right after her.

  “We’ve got a lot more people to see before offices close for the day,” the older woman stated as she opened the outer door of Wendy’s office and then turned. “And if you know of anyone else who you’d think would like to sponsor a dog, let me know, and I’ll add the name to my list.”

  Immediately, Wendy thought of Greg.

  But then, she was thinking of him pretty much all the time, so no surprise there.

  “I’ll give it some thought.” Meeting Elise’s gaze on the way out, she gave the quiet woman a smile and made a mental note to reach out to her more when she saw her at the shelter.

  Elise seemed lonely...and Wendy didn’t ever let loneliness thrive in Spring Forest if she could help it.

  Maybe that was why she’d had Greg on the mind so much. The man was always alone, and Wendy’s mission in life was to leave no person behind.

  She wanted to believe that was all it was—that that was the reason she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.

  But she knew that wasn’t it.

  Not really. Problem was, she had no idea what to do with that.

  * * *

  Greg had been thinking all afternoon about the sexiest kiss he’d ever had. Nothing had ever felt as right as Wendy in his arms, matching him touch for touch, kiss for kiss. It had been better than anything ever uttered in a locker room, that was for sure.

  And it had been a terrible idea. He couldn’t go that route of trying for a relationship—not with Wendy, not with anyone. He couldn’t even handle having a pet in his life. He’d never forgive himself if he injured anyone, lashing out during one of his nightmares. The possibility was all too real and all too frightening.

  Yeah, Jedi had nudged Greg’s hand when he’d been reading about nightmares. Yeah, it was possible he’d been experiencing some of the physiological symptoms of the fear and fight induced from them and that Jedi had picked up on that.

  But a dog who could sense nightmares couldn’t actually cure the man who experienced them. What if Jedi got too close? What if he got hurt?

  No. Hearing Wendy’s garage door go up and her car pulling in, he shook his head. It didn’t matter how hot that kiss had been or how badly he wanted to repeat it. Dating a woman seriously was out of the question for him.

  He couldn’t take the chance that he’d get weak, want to spend the night in her arms and wake up to find himself hurting her.

  It happened. He knew of a guy who’d been with him in Afghanistan who’d broken his wife’s nose.

  The oh-so-hot woman he’d kissed came in through the garage door...stopped midstride when she saw him there and met his gaze.

  And he knew she’d been thinking about him some, too.

  That she hadn’t yet forgotten the kiss. The kiss he’d just decided couldn’t be repeated. Not without it leading to something more that would only put her at risk.

  All he wanted was to be good to her and for her—to make a positive difference in her life. He couldn’t do that romantically, but was there something else he could offer?

  And suddenly he knew how he could make her happy. Not by kissing her again. Or trying to start something he knew he couldn’t finish.

  But by being the man he’d been in her life for the past several years.

  Her friend. Her pilot.

  Maybe minus the flirting...

  “What do you think about Jedi going up with me?” he blurted the question before he could think it to death and change his mind.

  Before he could scare himself out of facing a bit of his own truth—and maybe sharing a small piece of it with someone else.

  Duke had made an incredible stride that morning, beyond what anyone had expected from him after all this time. If he could do that, then Greg, with all of his capabilities, felt doubly challenged to be his best, as well.

  Which meant finding what it took to do the most difficult things.

  As caught up as he was with his own internal battle—having just pretty much admitted, out loud, in company, that maybe he needed some help—it took him a second to see that Wendy, mouth open, was staring at him.

  “If I’ve just overstepped, I apologize,” he told her quickly, half thinking maybe there was still time to backtrack...to take back any little bit of vulnerability he might have shown her, while also remembering that she’d been the one to suggest that a dog might help him.

  A dog.

  Not the incredible Jedi.

  “Stop with the apologies already, Martin,” she said. “I’m just...temporarily speechless. Enjoy the moment.”

  Cocking his head, he met her gaze.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” she said then, busying herself with rinsing the cup she’d brought in with her and putting it in the dishwasher.

  Giving him privacy for his second or two of hot flash followed by cold chills. For the...relief that suddenly made him feel different. A small bit lighter.

  “You know, with chances being that a vet suffering from PTSD could also then suffer from a fear of flying,” he blew out quickly, trying to cover up any deeper reason she might have gleaned from his request. “The more experiences Jedi has, the more ready he’ll be to face whatever he’ll be exposed to when he goes to work...”

  The way she was looking at him, expression easy, but eyes narrowed, made him tense.

  “I just have one request...”

  Bracing himself to hear her ask for more than he could give, he was surprised when she said, “I’d like to go up with you. As his handler. He’s not fully trained yet—he hasn’t been cleared for service. If he gets it wrong...”

  Greg would be fine. Jedi would be, too. He knew he could fly safely and professionally. The idea was to do it without fear, without the battle that had taken all joy out of the activity to the point of him wondering if he was ready to be done with his time in the sky.

  Wendy was waiting for an answer.

  “I’m fine with that.”

  Standing there, looking at him, her eyes glowing with a satisfaction that went beyond any physical pleasure, she said, “Good. When?”

  In a while.

  A time in the future.

  Greg thought of a song his mom used to listen to. Something about tomorrow never coming. But then he recognized the weakness in his thinking and was ashamed for even having the thoughts.

  After taking a deep breath, he ran a mental play of her schedule. And his own. Narrowed down the first time they’d both be free. “Saturday morning?”

  Her grin set him on fire again, tempting him to leave pain and fear behind for a few hours of ecstasy. Of hiding.

  Making his arms antsy to reach for her.

  He reached for his keys instead, wished her a good-night and ran for his life.

  To safeguard hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  What in the hell had she done, offering to go up with Greg? The reasoning had been completely valid in that Greg seemed to be suffering from a form of PTSD that caused him to feel anxious about flying. Jedi should be able to help him divert panic-related symptoms before they overwhelmed him, but Jedi hadn’t finished training yet, was not cleared to work.

  Not to mention, Jedi still had his own medical complications. Every test showed improvement, and he was definitely getting closer to full, robust health. But it was still possible that he could come down with a sudden fever while they were in the air.

  All true. All good reason to not let Greg and Jedi go up without her. Not that she could fly, but she could take care of Jedi while Greg brought them down.

  She could find another, fully trained, service dog to borrow for the morning. One that wouldn’t need another human being in the plane. Except that Greg wasn’t fully accepting that he needed one. He was bonding with Jedi. He cared about the dog, and there was a foundation of trust. She knew that was a lot of the reason he’d suggested taking the dog up. If he’d been consciously seeking what he needed for himself, it had only been as a peripheral, as in, maybe Jedi could help make the flight more pleasant for him, but he didn’t need the dog to complete the flight.

  As such, he would certainly reject a fully trained dog there just for his benefit. The only way he’d accept comfort and help from a service dog on his plane would be if that dog was Jedi. And if Jedi was going, she needed to be there in order to supervise.

  Yep, all valid reasoning to join Greg and Jedi on their flight.

  Only one small problem.

  Her damned fear of heights. The curse had even been there when she was a child living with her perfect family, before everything had gone wrong. And while she’d tried to rid herself of the phobia—had even done an online session with a therapist—there was just some baggage that had refused to vacate her premises.

  Her dad knew. No one in her current life did.

  And she’d be damned if anyone was going to find out.

  Which meant, as she sat at work on Friday—a part of her all too aware that Greg was going to be at her house shortly to take Jedi out for a walk around the local park—the rest of her was silently panicking over the idea that she had less than twenty-four hours to mentally prepare herself to be able to actually get on a plane. A small one. With a pilot who might or might not be overly tense and have to give every ounce of attention to getting them up and down safely.

  And for her to do so without freaking out.

  Yeah. Like she could do that.

  Except, how could she not? How could she expect Greg to do something she wasn’t doing herself? She, of all people, knew that facing and conquering fear was essential so that it didn’t rob you of your best life.

  Problem was, she’d already tried. Many times.

  How in the hell was she going to climb up into that plane and not let it show?

  The outer door of her office suite opened, saving her from the mental back-and-forth that had been plaguing her since the evening before.

  And when she saw Elise Mackenzie there—alone, for once—all thoughts of her small irritating situation took a step back.

  “I got your message. Aunt Regina is on a call, so I came to collect the money and form for the sponsorship,” the young woman said. She seemed different somehow, more relaxed, exuding more confidence, without her aunt barreling in front of her.

  Did it mean something that Elise had come by herself and hadn’t just waited for her aunt to finish her call?

  “Have you got a minute? In addition to sponsoring a dog, I’d like to be involved in the show if I could,” Wendy said, heading toward her seating area, offering coffee, which, this time, Elise accepted.

  Waiting for the first cup to brew, she stood at the cart and continued. “I was thinking it would be great to use Jedi. He’s still with us, a walking example of the great things going on at Furever Paws, and... I’m fostering him until he’s ready to go into service. I thought maybe I’d wear khaki colored pants and a green T-shirt and he could have a fatigue cap and maybe an in-service vest.” The coffee was done. She started her own cup and went to deliver Elise’s without missing a beat. “I could decorate the vest, you know, with studs or some fancy something, and decorate his leash, too...make it fun and bold and...something colorful, so those watching get the same feeling you get when you watch a parade.”

  “I love it.” Elise’s smile filled her face, coming across as thoroughly genuine. And kind.

  “We could have donation buckets going around for those watching. That way, the fundraiser would pull in money on the sponsorships and from the viewers.” Elise stopped talking to sip as Wendy joined her on the couch.

  Fifteen minutes flew by as they discussed various aspects of the doggy fashion show, and then Elise’s happy, excited expression faded.

  “We’ll have to run all of this by Aunt Regina, of course,” she stipulated. “The fundraiser is her baby.”

  “Why are you letting her do that? It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  Elise looked surprised. “You...you could tell?”

  “Yeah, it was obvious,” Wendy replied. “When she talked about it, all she had were generalities. You had the specifics. It was clear you’d given it a lot of thought already. So why let her hog the credit?”

  Shrugging, Elise seemed to size Wendy up, as though she wanted to share something but then just shook her head and eventually offered, “With all of her contacts in town, she’ll be able to collect double or triple the money I could, and that’s what matters most here. Money for the rescues. Security for the shelter.”

  Wendy nodded. She got it. Agreed even.

  Still... “Your aunt does a lot for this town, and I know she means well, but...sometimes I find her a bit...pushy.” Maybe she was crossing a line by sharing her opinion so frankly, but she had the feeling that Elise would welcome an ally. Maybe even a friend?

  “She can be a bit overbearing,” Elise said, her tone soft, “but, you’re right, she means well...” Elise sipped at her coffee, focusing on the cup in her hands, but didn’t seem quite done speaking. There’d been a tone, as though she had more to say, and so Wendy left space for more, sipping from her own cup for a couple of seconds.

  “My dad and Regina’s husband were brothers. When my dad got sick, he was in a nursing home for the last few years of his life. He had savings, but not enough. Money ran out. I was just a kid...and Regina was kind enough to pay the enormous bills. He was only her brother-in-law. Not even blood family. She didn’t have to do that. But she did. I’m forever grateful to her.”

  Wow. Wendy had had no idea. This insight left her with new respect for the pushy older woman. And for Elise McKenzie, too.

  They had something else in common—an understanding that family wasn’t necessarily those whose blood you shared. Instead, it was those who were there for you when you needed them.

  Those who wanted you there.

  Who needed you.

  Like Greg needed her and Jedi?

  Was she thinking they were connected like family?

  Pets for Vets family. Pilots for Paws family.

  The thought settled into the void left by the potential problem her overly inquiring mind had coughed up.

  And felt right.

  She and Greg were connected as family. Had been for years. And that was the reason she’d committed herself to a successful flight for him on Saturday, in spite of her own issue.

  Her feelings for him—not to mention her feelings about the kiss—were inconsequential next to that.

  * * *

  What the hell? She had to be kidding.

  “Did she talk to you about this, Jedi?” Walking around the end of a card table set up in a corner of the spare room, Greg took in the array of studs and jewels and what looked like sewn letter appliqués surrounding the dog’s service vest.

  “Do you see what she’s doing here?” he asked. It was quite a surprise. While he knew Wendy liked bold colors—as evidenced in the throw pillows and wall hangings in her home—she’d always kept that out of her fashion choices. It was kind of nice to see her going for something so visually striking.

  But...

  She was training Jedi to work for a veteran. He couldn’t think of a single one, male or female, who’d choose to be accompanied all the time with the glitz and glamour to the overboard extent she had laid out there.

  If she was decorating a Christmas tree...it’d be great.

  An injured veteran, one who’d already probably be somewhat self-conscious about needing full-time help, was almost guaranteed to not want to be attached to the visual equivalent of a Christmas tree every time they went out the door.

  He sure as hell wouldn’t want to be.