Her Valentine Sheriff. Deb Kastner

to encourage him. What was his problem?

      “Eli, seriously. You are never going to bond with Bullet if you don’t personally interact with him. You guys are supposed to be a team, a unit. Dogs have different personalities just like people do. You have to learn his quirks and characteristics, and he needs to get to know your idiosyncrasies, as well.”

      Eli scoffed under his breath, but loud enough for Mary to hear it. The man was thoroughly exasperating in every respect. He was certainly nothing like the guy she’d been putting on a pedestal all these years.

      Maybe he never had been.

      “Are you going to do this or not?” she demanded, at the end of her emotional rope and quickly losing patience.

      “All right, already.” He snatched the towel from her grasp and tossed it across the yard in a long, high arc. “Nag,” he muttered crossly, under his breath.

      “Somebody’s got to be,” she retorted, propping her fists against her hips. “Do you give Captain James this much grief?”

      His eyes widened. “No, of course not. I—”

      He paused. His frown deepened for a moment before he offered her a rueful smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m acting like a class-A jerk, aren’t I?”

      His grin sent her stomach aflutter. “You said it, not me.”

      “I’ll try to do better,” he promised.

      “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she assured him, surprised at the intensity of the relief that washed through her. She hadn’t realized how very much she didn’t want to have to butt heads with Eli. She could only pray things would go better from here, now that he’d checked his attitude. She’d just known he’d be the kind of man willing to own up to his mistakes, and it was heartening to be proved right.

      Bullet sat on his haunches directly in front of Eli, wagging his tail. Eli tentatively reached for the towel and removed it from Bullet’s mouth. “Now, what did you say when you tossed this old rag for him?”

      “Apport. It means fetch.”

      “Yeah. I figured.”

      “Actually here’s a little bit of useless trivia. I named my business Rapport Kennel. It’s a play on words.”

      “Clever,” he said, displaying his admiration in both his voice and his gaze.

      Mary couldn’t help but smile. She liked seeing the kinder side of Eli. Finally she was seeing a glimpse of the man she believed would eventually make an outstanding representative of the K-9 unit for the Serendipity police force.

      “And what words do you use to play tug-of-war?”

      “Grrr,” she said with a laugh. “Just wag the cloth in front of his nose. He’ll take it from there.”

      For once, Eli did as he was instructed and didn’t complain about it. “All right, fellow. Show me what you’ve got.”

      Bullet barked and leaped for the towel. Eli involuntarily snatched his hand back and the dog bounded off with his prize.

      “Hey, now,” he protested, rushing off after the dog. “Get back here. That’s not fair. You caught me off guard.”

      Mary wasn’t sure that the dog had caught him unaware. It looked more like he’d startled him—she wouldn’t go so far as to call it fear, but she noted it on her clipboard nonetheless. She was probably being too conscientious, but this was her first time training a K-9 team. It had to be perfect. Better to be safe than sorry.

      Bullet advanced and retreated playfully, eventually dropping the towel by Eli’s feet so he could play, too. Eli didn’t hesitate this time. He made a low rumble from deep in his chest and shook the towel at the dog. Soon the two were in a full-out tugging match, dashing up and down the lawn as man attempted to best the beast. Bullet was clearly enjoying the interchange, but Mary watched Eli carefully, uncertain about how he felt about the exercise. His expression, coupled with the firm set of his jaw, appeared more resolute than exuberant. But at least he was trying. She had to give him that.

      She sighed softly, her gaze lingering on Eli. There was much to appreciate. He was a large man and firmly muscled, but he moved and turned with a fluid grace of a bird in flight. She couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps strained against the short-sleeved material of his uniform shirt as he weaved and pulled, jumped and twisted. He was absolutely stunning to observe—from a purely objective point of view. What woman wouldn’t notice?

      Reluctantly she shifted her attention from Eli in particular to the interchange between dog and man, noting on her clipboard both strengths and weaknesses in their movements as a team, points Mary would eventually need to address. For now it was enough just to watch. If she enjoyed the exchange a little too much, and if her eyes strayed a little too often to Eli, it was for her alone to know.

      She inhaled deeply and strictly reprimanded herself. Keep your mind on your work, girl, or you’re headed for trouble.

      Eli wasn’t here to have her gawk at him. If he should happen to glance over and catch her expression in an unguarded moment, that would be the end of their association for sure, and she would lose the best chance she had to make her goal of running a training kennel a reality. Her dreams were worth too much for her to lose on something as silly as being caught gaping at an attractive man—even Eli.

      Especially Eli.

      Bullet vaulted around the man, anticipating Eli’s moves with Bullet’s own clever efforts. They were testing one another, each trying to best the other, and Mary couldn’t help but smile indulgently. She could give herself a pat on the back for a job well done. They were getting to know and figuring out each other. Strengths and weaknesses, just as she’d instructed Eli to do.

      The two were well matched. Mary had known they would be. Eli wasn’t aware of it, but she’d chosen this dog specifically for him. And vice versa. They’d make a good team one day, when their training was done.

      “Here’s his favorite toy,” Mary called, lofting a tennis ball at Eli, who caught it with ease. “Give it a toss and check out his response time. He’s amazingly fast for his size.”

      Eli drew his hand back and threw the tennis ball in a high arc, whooping when Bullet dashed off after it. “Look at that dog run. No wonder you named him Bullet.”

      Pride welled up in her throat, and she smiled. “You got that, did you? Trust me, it’ll come in handy when you’re taking down a bad guy.”

      “Only the bad guys, though, right?” he asked. His tone was light but his gaze not so much.

      “Of course. Bullet knows which side of the fence he’s working.”

      Eli made a show of wiping the sweat from his brow in relief. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”

      He sounded like he was teasing, but Mary sensed a serious undercurrent. “I assure you—once you’ve spent some time with Bullet, you’ll find he’s totally trustworthy. He’ll have your back better than any partner you’ve ever had.”

      He raised a brow. Somehow he didn’t look convinced, even when Bullet brought the ball back to him, sitting before him and lifting his head, offering the tennis ball to him.

      “What do I do now?”

      “Take the ball and throw it again. And again. And again. Bullet never gets tired of playing with his ball. That’s what makes him so easy to train. He has a strong, almost obsessive drive.”

      “If you say so.” He didn’t sound like he believed her, and once again, Mary came to the conclusion that he was one of those men who had to see to believe, like the apostle Thomas with the wounds of Jesus.

      It took all types, she supposed, though it would be a great deal less of a hassle for her if she didn’t have to prove every little point to him. She would, though, even if Eli dragged his feet each step of the way.