When she reached the training room and saw that Battise and Samantha weren’t with the other vets, she backtracked to the main room to ask for his phone number so she could remind him he was late.
“Let me make that call.” Maxine grinned and pushed a handful of dreads off her shoulder. “Any excuse to talk to that man will do me fine.”
“Okay. Just don’t expect a friendly response.”
Maxine nodded. “I know. He rubs you the wrong way. Personally, I wouldn’t mind which way he rubbed me. But I’m not the one he’s been sniffing around.”
Jori rolled her eyes. Corny canine references between staff members were a daily event. “He’s not dogging me.”
“No, he’s been stalking you with his eyes.” Barbara, another volunteer, looked up from feeding the guinea pigs they kept in cages in the main lobby. All sorts of household pets were kept at the facility as part of the training of their service dogs. “And you’ve been watching him like he was going to suddenly morph into Wolverine.”
Too true. But Jori wasn’t about to own it. “Whatever. Let me know if he’s not coming, Maxine.”
*
Class was well under way when the door to the practice room opened and Battise entered with Samantha.
Jori frowned when she saw that the service dog wore a traditional collar that hadn’t come from WWP. Her gaze followed up the leash to the bronze hand holding it and finally up to Battise’s face. There was little to read there, aside from the light of challenge in his sludge-gold eyes. He was probably waiting for her to say something about his being late. But Kelli had given her a mission. Make nice and get to know him.
“Good morning.” She smiled brightly as she left the ring of trainers, vets, and dogs to engage him. “Kelli’s just reviewing how to use the gentle lead.”
His heavy shoulders jerked up and down beneath a clean navy-blue tee, drawing her eye to the inked feather visible below the hem of his left sleeve. “Didn’t bring it.”
Jori held on to her smile. “Not a problem.”
She bent down. “Hello, Samantha.” She gave the dog a treat from the pouch at her waist and cooed affectionately as she detached the leather collar. “Such a good girl. Did you have a good night with your new handler?”
Samantha looked back at Battise, as if she understood Jori’s question. He didn’t meet her eye.
Jori produced a gentle lead from a pocket of her cargo pants. It was made of a flexible loop worn around the top of a dog’s muzzle and a second strap that went under the chin and clipped behind the dog’s head. A dog could bark, eat, and even pick up an object in its jaws while wearing it.
When she had given Samantha another treat, she looked up at Battise and held out her hand for the leash. “May I?”
He handed it over without hesitation. The jolt of surprise she felt as their hands touched was a purely involuntary response to a passion, she told herself, she had no use for.
“Heel, Samantha.” She tugged the leash lightly and pressed the clicker used to train dogs when they had to respond to more than one handler in the environment.
To her amazement Samantha didn’t budge. The canine continued looking up at Battise. “Give her permission to leave your side.”
Law frowned at the dog. “Geh—uh, go on, Sam. Go with Jori.”
Samantha licked the hand he had used to emphasize his point before turning away obediently.
Law watched the pair walk away in misgiving. He should have left the dog at the reception desk, as he’d planned. Regardless of Yard’s advice, he was leaving without a dog. So what was he doing standing here, when he needed to be headed to the airport to catch his booked flight to Richmond, Virginia?
He knew the answer. He was behaving like a POG, lusting after something he couldn’t have.
When he’d noticed Jori at the convenience store this morning, something about her posture had caught his attention. It was so unlike the friendly young woman he’d seen at WWP the past three days. With shoulders hunched and a thumbnail hooked into her teeth, she’d looked as if her day hadn’t begun well and wasn’t going to get any better. That shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did.
He’d nearly stopped to speak to her. But then she’d bent to pull something off a lower shelf. Better to keep moving, he’d told himself. Her problems. No need to make them his.
Then he’d caught her reflection in the glass doors of the refrigerated cases. The intensity of her gaze had grabbed him by the short hairs. He’d frozen, not certain how he should react to that frankly lustful gaze aimed his way. His body didn’t hesitate. His dick had gone hard as a lead pipe.
Something like humor tugged at Law’s mouth. Even after her friendly wave he couldn’t think of a goddamn way to respond that wouldn’t end up involving the clerk calling the police about two customers engaged in a lewd display of public affection.