He glanced around. “Maybe this isn’t the best place for him. At least not until he’s trained.”
As if to prove his point, Rambo tangled his leash around her legs again, then stuck his nose under her dress, lifting the hem halfway up her thighs. She bent over to grab the skirt before she flashed not only a hot SEAL but all the strangers around them, whose attention suddenly seemed to be on her.
Rambo dropped to his feet, gave a happy bark, and then tried to run in the opposite direction. With her legs bound together by the leash, preventing her from getting her balance, she toppled forward, her face heading directly for Jack’s crotch.
She put her hands out to keep her mouth from landing on the most private part of him, but when she realized that would result in her groping him, she panicked and ended up windmilling her arms. A mere inch before her mouth got entirely too up close and personal with a man she’d only met minutes ago, a pair of hands slid under her arms and lifted her back to her feet. That would have been great if her new position wasn’t breast to SEAL chest. An extremely hard chest. Desire spiked through her, adding to her embarrassment. Her cheeks and the back of her neck felt like they were on fire.
“Ah...ah.” She realized her arms were sticking out in a pretty good imitation of a scarecrow, so she dropped them to her sides. He kept his hands on her arms, trailed his fingers over her skin, down to her wrists, leaving goose bumps in his wake. She lifted her gaze to his. Lord have mercy, his eyes were a hundred times darker than they had been before she’d smashed her breasts into his chest. She wondered if he would mind if she climbed him like a tree.
A slow—sexy as all get-out—smile curved his lips. “Hello,” he murmured.
“Hi,” she chirped. Really, Nichole, you’ve taken to chirping? He let go of her and stepped back, then dropped to his knees. Her heart slammed into her rib cage at seeing him in that position while her mind was stuck on the breasts-to-chest thing and her skin tingling from his touch.
As if he could read her thoughts, he lifted his eyes—still a darker blue—and gave her that sexy smile again. “I’m just going to free you.”
“Oh.” That came out sounding disappointed, and he chuckled. What in the world was wrong with her? She’d never reacted to a man like this before, not this fast and this...well, tingly.
“There, all better,” he said once he had her unwrapped from the leash. He tapped the puppy’s nose. “You’re a handful of trouble, aren’t you?” Rambo tried to lick him. Jack stood and handed her the end of the leash.
“This is the first time I’ve brought him here with me. I guess I jumped the gun, but he’s learned to recognize when I’m leaving and starts to cry. I felt guilty for sticking him in his crate all day. Eventually I want to be able to bring him, but obviously I need to wait until he loses some of his puppy energy.”
“That will happen, even faster if he gets some training, but yeah, this isn’t a good place for him right now. Too many interesting things and people to check out.”
“Live and learn, right?” A couple walked up to her booth. “Um, I need to get to work.”
“You have your phone on you?”
“Yes. Do you need to make a call?” Heaven help her, the man really did have a killer smile.
“No. I was going to put my number in it. You know, in case you decide to take me up on my offer to help you train Rambo.”
“Oh. Right.” He probably thought she was a scatterbrain, but it was entirely his fault for being so sexy that it was hard to think around him.
As if to prove he needed training, her dog was straining at the end of his leash, trying to get the couple’s attention with begging yips, hoping for a little petting. “Rambo, no.” She pulled him back toward her, and of course, he planted his paws so that she ended up dragging him.
She glanced at Jack, expecting to see disapproval, but the only thing in his eyes was amusement. “Here.” She unlocked her phone and handed it to him. “You’ll definitely be hearing from me if you can teach him some manners.”
“I can.”
When he handed her phone back, their fingers brushed against each other, and there was that tingling again.
“Take care, Nichole.” He squatted in front of Rambo. “I know you have a lot of energy, buddy, but try to behave for your mistress.” Rambo tossed himself onto his back, his tail scraping across the floor.
“I don’t think behave is in his vocabulary.”
Jack glanced up at her as he gave her dog a belly rub. “Part of teaching him that word will be to teach you how to master him.”
There was something in the way he said that, in the flash of heat in his eyes, that had her almost fanning her face. “Um, master him, right.” Jeez, Nichole, get your mind out of the gutter.
That was easier said than done with this man, and when the heat returned to his eyes and one side of his mouth curved up, she knew he knew right where her mind had gone. Again.
She glanced at the couple, who were still browsing. The woman picked up a mug. “I love how you embedded a maple leaf in these. I’ll take the set.”
“I’ll be right with you.” She glanced at Jack. “Gotta go.” Before something else came out of her mouth... Like my bed is only a few minutes from here. Want to go play?
He rose in a slow unfolding of his body that had her eyes tracking every movement and flex of his muscles. Oh, yeah. Sex. On. A. Freakin’. Stick. She’d been burned so badly by her last boyfriend that she’d gone through an I-hate-men stage. That phase might have just ended.
“Hope to hear from you, Nichole,” he said before picking up his coffee.
“I think you will,” she murmured as she watched him walk away. “And real nice butt, Whiskey,” she added.
Her morning had started off as one of the crappiest ever. She’d woken up tired and out of sorts after drinking enough wine to get up the nerve to call Trevor the Bastard Allen at three in the morning and tell him what she thought of him for sabotaging her commission. She’d figured that if she was up at that time of night, stewing over what he’d done, that it was only right for his sleep to be disturbed. The jerk had pretended not to know who she was.
Rambo hadn’t helped her mood when she’d found her favorite running shoes chewed up. Her fault for leaving them out, but weren’t all the toys she’d showered him with enough? Considering everything the world had rained down on her recently, she deserved a hot SEAL to play with, right? But she refused to appear too eager—because, really, the man probably had eager-to-get-into-his-pants women at his beck and call—so she’d wait a bit to contact him.
Don’t miss Operation K-9 Brothers by Sandra Owens, available wherever Carina Press books are sold.