“It’s a personal matter.” A pause. “There’s no one else I trust with this.”
Those words put Kye on alert. He would have bet a year’s wages that he’d be the last man on earth Law would trust for anything. “What do you want me to do?”
“Check up on Yardley Summers, my half sister.”
The answer made the hair on Kye’s arms stiffen. “You screwing with me? Yard’s your sister?”
“You know her?”
Kye’s turn to pause. Everyone in U.S. K-9 law enforcement knew Yardley Summers as one of the top K-9 trainers in the country. He just wasn’t prepared to admit exactly how well he’d once known her. But considering her brother’s request, he didn’t seem to have a choice.
“Your sister and I have a history.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Your sister and I have a history that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“Then it’s not relevant.”
Law was letting him off the hook. Kye wasn’t sure he should be grateful. Law must have a hell of a job for him. “What’s this about?”
“Yard’s been seeing this guy for over a year but I only know the bare bones about him. His name is Dr. David Gunnar. He’s with Doctors Without Borders. I wouldn’t know that much except that he’s disappeared, and Yard’s convinced he’s in some kind of trouble. She called me only because she’s gotten nowhere through her usual contacts. My gut tells me if they won’t help, something’s not right.”
“Right.” Though they hadn’t been in touch in years, Kye knew enough about Yardley’s reputation to know her “contacts” included all levels of law enforcement up to and including the FBI. Even so. “Relationship issues sound like a job for big brother.”
“It will be if I find out he simply walked out on her. Right now I’ve got a situation here I can’t get away from. Meanwhile, I need to know Yard’s not going to go off on her own until I can find out what the deal is with the guy she thinks she wants to marry.”
Marry. Kye would pay money to meet the man who thought he could handle Yardley Summers. Wait. That’s what Law was offering him a chance to do, for free. He was now too curious to hang up.
“I can’t get away until late tomorrow.”
“That’ll work. You’ll find her at Harmonie Kennels. Keep her there.”
“You’re talking about Yard. She’ll be doing pretty much what she wants.”
With the conversation over, Kye leaned back on his pillows and settled Lily on his chest. She poked her nose into his right armpit and settled in while he lay there thinking.
Yardley Summers. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on thoughts of her in a dozen years. Sure, she popped up on his radar from time to time. But he’d avoided running into her. Because, hell, he supposed one never forgot a first love.
Kye sighed. He’d never in his life tangled with a woman the way he had with her. Young and beautiful, she had a way with dogs that bordered on spooky. She was also stubborn, defiant, and suspicious of everyone’s motives. She had good reasons. That didn’t keep him from falling for her harder and faster than anyone with a fully functional brain should.
For most guys first love happened early, at fifteen or sixteen, when they were 90 percent dick and 10 percent reason. He’d been twenty-four. Even so, meeting Yardley had been all about a sudden unexpected heat and wonder that had knocked him sideways.
Kye blew out a breath, feeling the heat of a long-ago craving race across his skin. The memory of Yard’s volatile black eyes and feel of her rare dark-red hair sliding through his fingers as their lips clung together still stung like a scorpion.
For about a minute he’d thought he would be her hero, her knight in shining armor. Then reality landed on him like jackboots. At that point in his life, all he’d had was the army and a dog. He wasn’t in a position to jeopardize either.
“Shit.”
Lily lifted her head and began licking his chin, an indication that she was reading the uptick in pheromones caused by his thoughts. He pulled his dog in more closely to reassure her he was okay.
There was no reason for him to feel sorry for Yard. She’d gotten her happily-ever-after. Her father, the old bastard, had left her Harmonie Kennels—despite what he’d threatened.
Time to put what might have been away. But the deep stirring caused by Law’s call continued to swirl in his gut.
He rubbed his sleep-gritted eyes, regretting the lost dream of roasted pig. He should have said no to Law. In fact, he still could. His ticket to Hawaii was practically doing a hula on the bedside table. His mouth began to water with possibilities of kalua pua‘a. He would text Law. Say Sorry, bro, my homeland calls.
But he wasn’t going to. He wasn’t an immature hothead rushing headlong to the rescue this time. He was a man with hard times and years of experience behind him. Yard was in trouble. So what if the very idea had those rusty trumpets in his head inconveniently blaring to life? He just hoped they weren’t playing taps for his peace of mind.