Love was no more of an option for him than it was for Duke, locked up in his own mind, yet in an entirely different way from Greg.

  Still, the end result was the same. Both of them slept alone.

  Greg reached for his shoes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She didn’t follow him out of her room. Didn’t even get out of bed. Not until she’d heard the front door close behind him.

  Throwing on a robe, she traipsed to the front of the house, checked that he’d locked the front door behind him. And then, with Jedi at her side, she went straight back to bed.

  She didn’t cry. Not then. And not the next morning when she woke up to an instant replay in the light of day, either.

  If she’d had any kindling of hope that there could be more between them than a purely physical encounter, that she actually wanted more out of her life, he’d just snuffed it out.

  But she’d never really believed she could have that anyway. That’s why she wasn’t crying.

  She wasn’t even slowing down.

  Yeah, she’d wanted him to stay. She’d wanted to cuddle up and fall asleep in her lover’s arms. To wake up...not alone.

  She’d done that part, at least. Waking up not alone.

  She didn’t need a permanent man in her life.

  What she needed was a permanent dog. A family member who wouldn’t leave her until nature separated them. She’d had her life so planned out, had followed the plan, but hadn’t known about some of the happiness she’d been denying herself.

  Hadn’t known how empty her house was until she’d opened it up to Jedi. And to Greg, of course, but she didn’t need them both to be permanent fixtures.

  One could come and go as life took him. Leaving her world intact.

  The dog, though, the idea of having one of her own had taken root. She couldn’t get one fast enough.

  Maybe one of the newborn pups at Furever Paws?

  She tried to keep her mind focused on the idea of puppies, but in spite of herself, her thoughts continued to drift back to Greg as she went about her usual Sunday-morning routine. He needed a dog in his life, too. Specifically, he needed Jedi—she was certain, now that she’d confirmed that the nightmares weren’t going away. But she knew she couldn’t force him to accept that. She’d put Jedi in his path, and that was all she could do. He had to want to help himself, and it looked like he didn’t.

  He didn’t want a service dog. And he didn’t want her. Not for anything more than a dalliance that didn’t even last a full night. Fine, then. So be it.

  She talked it through with Jedi as she took him for a long walk downtown Sunday after lunch, getting in more public hours for him. The conversation was intermittent, interspersed with various other chats with people they ran into along the way, all who wanted to greet Jedi.

  She couldn’t let them, of course. He had on his vest and couldn’t be petted or coddled while he was working, but he did his job well, sitting at attention, focused on her, as she socialized.

  “Anyway, we’ll be seeing him tomorrow,” she told Jedi as he jumped in the passenger seat of her SUV after clocking ninety minutes of public time. When the dog gave her a soulful glance, which she interpreted as expressing doubt, she quickly reassured him. “Greg’s not going to let you down,” she told Jedi. And then, as she climbed in on the other side of the car, she added, “He’s not going to let me down, either. Not when it comes to service. Greg’s all about service.”

  And she admired that about him so much.

  Even more so an hour later, when she got a call that a seeing-eye dog that was to be delivered to a veteran in the Raleigh area had been reassigned to a young woman up north who was just getting out of rehab that afternoon. They needed a pilot as soon as possible.

  Luckily, she’d put Greg’s number on speed dial when he’d agreed to help her with Jedi.

  Even luckier, he picked up before the first full ring even had a chance to sound. “I’m sorry.” The unusual greeting stopped her for a second. She sat there in her idling SUV, still parked in front of her office, with Jedi beside her, his nose up to the air-conditioner vent, without a quick comeback.

  “I know leaving like that last night was uncool,” he continued, “and—”

  She cut him off before he could get any further. “Where are you?”

  “At the airport.”

  “Coming or going?”

  “Going, why? If you need something, I can reschedule. What’s wrong?”

  Damn. She’d been trying to sound as normal as possible, but she must have missed the mark. Maybe that was to be expected when she was struggling to evade mental flashes of his voice in her ear as he’d entered her the night before.

  “A twenty-two-year-old veteran who was blinded by an explosive is going home today, and the seeing-eye dog they had set up for her is no longer available. We have one who was headed to a veteran in Raleigh today, but he’s insisted that we take her to the other vet instead. He’s been blind for twenty years and is fine to wait until we can find another dog for him. This girl... It’s critical to her emotional health that her homecoming be as easy as possible, that she feel as independent as possible...” She was rambling. He wasn’t interrupting.

  “Like I said, I’m at the airport,” he said when she cut herself off. “How long will it take you to get here?”

  She glanced at the clock on the dash. Just before one. And there she sat, wasting precious time. Putting the vehicle in gear, she said, “Give me a few to get arrangements finalized, and I’ll call you back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  It was as simple as that. Because it was work. And they were business associates. She could always count on him to be there for the cause.

  She liked knowing that.

  And if she would have liked for him to be there for her in other ways...well, she’d get over it. Eventually.

  * * *

  Relieved that Wendy wasn’t holding the night before—his walkout—against him, Greg hung up and pulled out the lawn chair he kept at the hangar, taking a seat to wait for her call.

  As he sat, he dialed his mother, rescheduling his trip to Charlotte for the following day. He was scheduled to be with Jedi then, but now that they knew the young male could handle flying, the dog could head down with Greg. His mom, when she heard the reason for his delay, was all cheer and happiness with the changed plans.

  Greg was pleased with the new arrangement as well, especially when he thought about having Jedi as a firm, inarguable excuse to not be able to extend his stay overnight. There and gone was the best way for him to handle time with his family.

  Schedule change handled, Greg...just sat. His mind wandered back to Wendy and his relief that sex hadn’t ruined things between them.

  That they were still who they’d been, in spite of what they’d done the night before.

  But...why wasn’t she at least a little bit bothered by how their time had ended?

  He sure as hell had been.

  All the way home, after he’d worked out for half an hour in his home gym, taken a long, hot shower and gone to bed, he’d still been filled with self-loathing—and regret—for walking out on her.

  The look on her face when he’d taken one last glance back as he’d left...it had been more than enough to prove that he’d hurt her.

  Not that you’d have known it by the way she’d sounded on the phone that morning.

  He’d been trying to figure out how to make it up to her. How to get her to be okay with the little he had to give.

  How to help her not take his limitations personally.

  And it appeared she wasn’t taking them on herself at all. Not trying to help. And not taking offense that he’d left her lying there naked in bed after having sex with her. Denying her request to lie there and hold her afterward.

  Was it...was it because she expected to be denied? There was something she’d said earlier...about not being enough. It added up with some other things she’d said to him before, not to mention the way she acted sometimes, as if she was surprised at the idea that someone would pay attention to how she was feeling. It seemed like that fear—no, not a fear, a conviction that she wasn’t enough—was planted deep inside her.

  Had he, by leaving her bed so soon, unwittingly fed her sense of not being enough? Was she so accepting of her own view of herself that she hadn’t even blinked when he’d gone home?

  He could have it all wrong.

  But he didn’t think so.

  Standing, hands on his hips, he stared out to the runway and the horizon beyond, not liking the view his mind’s eye was showing him. A giving, beautiful-inside-and-out woman, holding her arms out, being denied...and not seeming at all surprised.

  How could she possibly be okay with that, process that?

  By treating him as though nothing hurtful had happened between them?

  She should be pissed, demanding more for herself. Telling him off for not at least staying long enough for some cuddles before he had to go. Or demanding that he keep his hands off her in the future. Instead, she had cut him off before he could even finish his apology.

  By the time she called to let him know she was on her way to pick up the dog and would have it to him within the hour, he’d reached a point of no return.

  The woman had to know that she was worth more than gold. And that she had to start standing up for herself. To fight for herself as hard as she fought for others. Greg was bound and determined to make sure she learned that lesson.

  Even if realizing what she deserved meant Greg never got to touch her again.

  * * *

  “You on your way to get the dog now?” Wendy heard a definite edge to Greg’s voice on the phone. Was he having second thoughts about going up?

  Or second thoughts about working with her?

  If she had to, she’d drive all night to get Lady to that young veteran up north, but flying would make everything so much faster and easier...

  “I am,” she said, shoring her internal resources to handle whatever was coming.

  “And you can talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’d like to know why you think you aren’t good enough.”

  What in the hell? Talk about coming out of left field! Still, she could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to back down. There was no point in trying to redirect the conversation.

  “I told you, my dad...” She couldn’t finish the sentence. No way was she some kind of victim who sat around feeling unworthy because her father was a bit self-centered and had never been all that much of a family guy.

  He’d adored her mother.

  And he’d tried, with her and her brother. Had been a pretty decent dad when times were good, when their family was easy. It was when things had gotten harder that he’d started to truly pull back.

  “Your dad, what? What did he do to you?” He sounded as though if he found out, he’d go hunt the man down and make him pay for it.

  Her senses on full alert, she frowned. “Not really driving-in-the-car conversation, Martin.”

  Not casual-friend conversation, either. Or even friends-with-benefits.

  And yet, there they were, having it.

  “You’d rather sit down together face-to-face and have it?”

  A big Hell no.

  She swallowed. And almost smiled. He knew her pretty well.

  Tough conversation definitely needed a step-back approach. A little distance between her and the person she was talking to made it easier to open up. And maybe, in light of the fact that they’d had sex—no, not that—but in light of the fact that she’d been all up in his business with the anxiety and nightmares resulting from his emergency landing...

  “My father didn’t do anything to me,” she told him. Which was kind of the point. “After my mother died...he basically just vanished. He paid the bills. Made sure I had what I needed physically.” But pretty much left her to raise herself during the last three years of high school.

  And so what? She’d been fed. Warm. Secure. Provided for. She’d had a car. Nice clothes. Lived in a good neighborhood. He’d been sober—which was more than her mother had been those last years after Michael.

  And he’d made it home more nights than not.

  “And from that, you gather you aren’t enough?”

  “This really isn’t in-the-moment conversation,” she said then, turning into the empty parking lot where she was due to meet the trainer to take custody of Lady. He didn’t know she’d just parked.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Um, I’m thirty-three years old. There’s a lot of things I’ve lived through. Most of which you don’t know.”

  “Why do you think you aren’t enough?”

  Damn, the man was tenacious.

  She knew that, of course. He’d been persevering when he’d risked his life to deliver a dog with a storm coming on. And pretty determined to get back up in the air again when his life’s passion was threatened. She just hadn’t expected him to aim that doggedness at her.

  “I’m at the meet point,” she said then, wanting him to think she had to go. That the other Pets for Vets volunteer was there waiting for her. But wait—then he’d be expecting her sooner... “Theresa isn’t here yet.”

  “Why do you think you aren’t enough?”

  Tempted to hang up on him, she held the phone silently to her ear instead. Swallowed hard for a second time.

  And said, “Because I wasn’t enough to live for.”

  “You’re talking about your mother?”

  Only in part, but okay. “Yeah.”

  “I assumed she died of cancer, or something else terminal. You were so young...”

  “She drank herself to death.” Literally. And that last day, she’d managed to consume three full fifths of one-hundred proof whiskey.

  “That couldn’t have been your fault.”

  “I didn’t say it was. What I said was that I wasn’t enough reason for her to live.”

  His silence after that revelation was a little unnerving.

  “Sorry that you asked, now?” She posed the question laconically. Giving him a chance to shrug off his mistake and change the subject.

  “No, I’m sorry that you find her substance abuse in any way indicative of her love for you.”

  He wasn’t letting it go. Just couldn’t let it go...

  This man was so gorgeous. And giving. And generally amazing. But also incredibly infuriating. Why couldn’t he just let it go?

  Why had she let him into her home? Into her bed?

  What was it about him?

  “You still there?” He sounded concerned.

  He’d know she hadn’t hung up. His phone would show that they were still connected.

  “It was my brother, okay?” she blurted, tears stinging her eyes as she opened them toward the sun shining down. So she could be forced to close them.

  Oh, God. Why did life have to hurt so badly?

  “Michael? What did he do to you?” That tone was back—if she didn’t explain right away, he’d be out for blood.

  Didn’t know that he needn’t bother. Michael had already been hurt in the worst way possible—and he’d done it to himself.

  “He killed himself, Greg. He was hurt in combat. Came home a completely different man than the Michael I knew. And then he killed himself. Knowing I would be the one who found him. Now, can we drop this, please? Theresa is pulling in.”

  Because that was how life worked, most of the time. If you got to the end of your tether, someone came out of somewhere and gave you a string to hang on to until you could get ahold of yourself. There’d been so many strings held out for Michael, but he’d refused to take them. Wendy had made the opposite choice.

  People her parents had known, teachers, friends’ parents, a counselor or two...they’d all been strings for her once upon a time.

  And they were all the reason she tried to spend every waking moment of her life being that for others.

  The rest—the getting to the end of her tether part—that was why she couldn’t risk her heart another time. She wasn’t ever going to let herself get to the point where something mattered so much that losing it made her not want to live.

  She should be thanking Greg, really.

  He’d just reminded her of everything she’d almost forgotten while within his arms.

  She wouldn’t forget again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The flight would have been a complete joy, if not for the heavy heart he took up with him. And brought home with him, too.

  Wendy hadn’t even gotten out of the SUV when she’d done her drop-off. She’d driven up to the hangar, he’d walked out to meet her, she’d rolled down her window, given him the folder of papers, told him the dog’s name was Lady and thanked him profusely for helping on such late notice.

  Throughout all of that, she didn’t look him in the eye.

  Anyone watching would never have believed him if he’d said he’d had sex with the woman the night before. Twice.

  He wanted to be affronted, insulted...something other than heartbroken for her.

  But the truth was, he understood completely.

  Wendy’s brother had killed himself. And she’d found him. Then she’d lost her mother to alcohol and her father to his need to escape grief by hanging out with other people. Of course she wasn’t going to yell at him for leaving her. It was what she expected. And the next part of the dance was for her to move on, as she’d always had to before.

  He couldn’t even fathom.

  He texted Wendy, as she’d requested, when he got home late that afternoon. Heard back from her immediately, with a thumbs-up and smiley face. Akin to responses he’d received from her in the past.

  He needed to call. To drive into Spring Forest and see her.