Lara Lacombe - Colton K-9 Bodyguard

“I didn’t know you worked with a dog.”

“Yep.” Micah pulled the seatbelt out for her, and she buckled herself in. “I’m with the K-9 Unit. Chunk’s a cadaver dog, trained to find bodies. He’s actually the one who found you.”

Bea frowned. “But I’m not dead.”

A shadow crossed Micah’s face, barely visible in the glow of the streetlight. “No, thankfully you’re not.” He shook his head, as if to cast off a bad mood. “Chunk is actually trained to detect blood, so sometimes he’ll find a victim who is still alive. Like you.” He offered her a tight smile before shutting the door.

Bea twisted around to regard the dog as Micah opened the back door. “Then I guess you’re the one I really need to thank,” she said.

Chunk lifted his head again, his dark brown eyes gentle. He turned to nose Micah, who was busy dumping a bowl of kibble into a storage bin. “Has he been here all evening?”

“Yeah,” Micah responded, turning to dump out a bowl of water. “He’s used to hanging out in the SUV if I go somewhere that isn’t too dog friendly.”

“Aren’t you worried about him getting too hot?”

“Not in this weather,” Micah said. “It’s still cool enough that when I park in the shade with the windows down he does okay. I don’t leave him alone if it’s warm outside. It’s not worth the risk.” He stretched his arm out, handing her something small. “Here. He’s usually pretty friendly, but if you give him this he’ll be your best friend forever.”

Bea glanced at the object to find Micah had passed her a dog treat. She laughed softly. “Fair enough.” She reached into the backseat, extending the gift. Chunk took one sniff and leaned forward, retrieving the biscuit from her hand in one surprisingly delicate bite. His breath was humid on her hand, and he gave her a quick swipe with his tongue as if to say thanks.

Micah climbed behind the steering wheel and started the engine. “Ready?”

Bea wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the dog, so she answered for the both of them. “Yes.”

He put the truck in gear, then stopped and turned to her with a worried look. “Uh, you’re not allergic to dogs, are you?”

“No,” she replied.

Relief flashed across his face and he returned his attention to driving. “That’s good,” he said. “I hadn’t thought to ask you about it before.”

“I take it Chunk is your roommate?”

“Something like that,” Micah said, turning on to the main street in front of the hospital. “Mostly, though, I’m more like his servant.” He didn’t sound like he was bothered by this arrangement, and Bea smiled.

“Sounds like a good deal for Chunk.” She glanced back at the dog, who was stretched out on the seat again. He was longer than she’d expected, but then again, Bea had never been around a basset hound before.

“Trust me, he’s got nothing to complain about.”

“Except for maybe his name,” Bea remarked. “Chunk isn’t a very dignified name.”

The dog in question snorted, as if agreeing with her.

“Well, that’s more of a nickname,” Micah said. “His given name is Chase, but no one ever calls him that.”

“Too bad,” Bea said. “It’s a nice name.”

“It is,” Micah agreed. “But you have to admit, he is a little...stout.”

“That’s hardly his fault,” she protested.

Micah laughed softly. “You don’t have to defend him to me,” he said. “I love the guy. And if I thought his nickname actually hurt his feelings, I wouldn’t use it. But believe it or not, he won’t answer to Chase. He only responds to Chunk.”

The dog snorted again, confirming his master’s words.

“How long have you two worked together?” She was genuinely curious, and Micah’s relationship with Chunk seemed like a fairly safe topic of conversation.

“Almost two years. I was partnered with him right after I joined the force.”

“Did you always know you wanted to have a dog as a partner?” It wasn’t the usual career path for a police officer, but then again, Red Ridge was known for its K-9 police unit and dog training center, courtesy of her father’s money. It was one of the more unselfish things Fenwick had done, and if it hadn’t been for her mother’s insistence, he probably wouldn’t have even considered it.

Micah was quiet, and for a moment Bea wondered if he was going to answer the question. She didn’t think it was too personal, but perhaps he didn’t want to talk about his motivations for joining the K-9 squad. “I actually worked with a dog while I was in the Army Rangers. His name was Duke, and he was a German shepherd.”

“Was?” She picked up on the past tense of the word, and her stomach tightened. Had something happened to the dog? No wonder Micah didn’t want to discuss it...

“Duke was shot during an ambush. Fortunately, he survived, and one of the veterinary nurses who took care of him adopted him.”

Bea breathed a sigh of relief at hearing the dog was okay. “That must have been really difficult, seeing him injured like that.”

“Yeah.” Micah swallowed hard. “It was one of the lowest moments of my life.”

Silence fell over them, and Bea could have kicked herself for pressing for more information. So much for keeping the conversation light and easy.

Bea searched for something to say but came up empty. She wished they could go back to the easy back-and-forth of a moment ago, but she couldn’t think of another topic of conversation to try. So she remained quiet, figuring it was better to say nothing at all than to blurt out something she’d come to regret.

Micah seemed comfortable with the silence, and she had to wonder if maybe he preferred it to talking to her. After all, he’d left her once before. He probably would have been happy to carry on without her in his life, but she’d forced her way back in, if only for a little while.

The thought had her second-guessing her decision once more, and she shifted in the seat. “How long do you think this will last?”

Micah lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he considered her question. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few days. Possibly longer than that.”

Bea frowned, turning to look out the window so he wouldn’t catch her expression. While a part of her was uncomfortable with the idea of spending so much time with Micah, a larger part insisted she stay with him. It didn’t make sense, but with the rest of her world in such chaos, she wanted—no, needed—the comfort of the familiar. And even though she and Micah had spent a lot of time apart, she still felt like she knew him. He was a safe port in this storm, and she wasn’t strong enough to pretend otherwise.

“I’m going to keep you safe,” he said quietly. “I know things are...different...between us, but I won’t let you get hurt again.”

“I know,” she said, turning back to offer him a small smile. “I trust you, Micah. That’s why I was so insistent in the hospital.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but apparently thought better of it. He cleared his throat, instead, leaving her wondering what he’d left unsaid.

“Micah?”

“We’re almost home,” he said, dodging her implicit question.

Bea leaned back against the headrest, knowing better than to pry. It was only natural he was quiet around her. They were still getting used to seeing each other again.

He turned onto a graveled drive, and she glanced out the window at the trees that dotted the landscape. It wasn’t until they were halfway down the drive that she realized she knew where they were headed because she’d been there before.

“This might be my concussion talking, but are we going to your aunt’s house?”

Micah gave her a fleeting smile. “Yeah. At least, it was her house. She left it to me after she died.”