Until his antics got both boys in real trouble and sent her brother’s life careening off course.
Her simple, innocent attraction to him had gotten muddled up with resentment and blame. Not that those emotions had stemmed the physical awareness.
So damn frustrating.
Even now, Van could feel him, walking several paces behind her. She could sense the motion of his body as he tempered his gait to match the wounded dog at his side.
She couldn’t seem to turn off the relief she’d felt when he’d first walked up, her gaze devouring him, searching for signs of wear and injury. There’d been a pressure in her chest until she could see for herself that he was okay. Even as her brain told her she shouldn’t care.
God, what was wrong with her? Ty had gotten her brother killed. Maybe not directly, but he was responsible. Ryan never should have been in Afghanistan. Never should have become a dog handler, searching the unforgiving terrain for explosive devices just waiting to maim and kill.
Van walked straight back to the kitchen, which looked out onto the yard. When she was growing up, her family had always gathered in the kitchen. Now, in her own home, the kitchen gave her peace—it was the place she came to when she needed a break from the storm her life could be.
It was the only place where she felt like she could breathe deeply.
Out of the corner of her eye, she registered Ty standing in the middle of her doorway. Just there, watching, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. And that left her restless.
Needing something to do, Van lifted the mug of coffee she’d left on the counter when she’d heard Ty drive up and took a sip, making a face when she realized it had gone cold.
Nothing worse than cold coffee.
Dumping it out, she popped another pod into the machine, pushed the button and let it run.
This day was going to require copious amounts of caffeine.
Not only was she an emotional wreck, but she’d just gotten off back-to-back shifts at the hospital. They’d had a late-night trauma call, gunshot to the abdomen. The guy had coded on her table twice before finally stabilizing enough for them to transport him to surgery.
Even now, she had no idea if he’d made it or not. One of the downfalls of ER medicine. She patched them up, sent them either out the door or on to someone else and then rarely knew what happened next.
But the rush of saving someone’s life...worth every second of exhaustion.
While her coffee was brewing, Van reached into a cupboard and pulled down a bright turquoise Fiesta bowl. She filled it with water and placed it on the floor near the sink.
“Do you have food for her?” she asked.
There was no point in pleasantries with the man who’d sauntered closer and was now leaning against the edge of her kitchen island. Way too much history between them to bother.
“In the car. I’ll get it in a bit.”
The low timbre of his voice slipped across her skin, giving her goose bumps. He might as well have touched her, given the effect he had.
Dammit.
Clenching her teeth, Van turned. Better to get this over with.
“How long will you be in town?”
There was a part of her that didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know when he’d be returning to the same dangerous place that had taken her brother. But the rest of her needed to know just how long she’d have to deal with the tension stringing her body so tight she was afraid she might snap.
“I’ve got two weeks. I figured I’d stay here for a bit. The town council asked me to ride with Kaia as marshal in the Fourth of July parade.”
Great. They’d asked her to as well. Not that she’d expected to avoid him the entire time, but she was hoping to minimize their interaction.
Van just nodded, keeping the information that she’d be there, too, to herself. Maybe she could find a way out of it. If he was there, what did they need her for?
It was bad enough that they were going to be honoring Ryan. She wasn’t sure she could deal with the pain of it all again. Losing him was still too raw.
“I’ll see how you and Kaia are coming along with your training. If you guys are good then I might head to a beach somewhere for a few days before I go back.”
“Training?”
A frown creased the spot right between his blue-gray eyes. She’d always been fascinated with them. The color was so...unusual. And it changed depending on what he wore or what mood he was in.
When she was younger, she used to make up excuses to loiter in the same room as the boys, pretending to read a book or watch a movie. In reality, she’d observed him. Noticed how he guarded himself with everyone—except her family.
As a teenager, she’d watched him go through girls, and fought against the jealousy she couldn’t quite conquer. He’d take them out. Treat them like queens. But never really give them anything of himself. No girl lasted more than a few weeks.
In high school, he’d gotten a reputation for being aloof, but stellar in bed. Details she really hadn’t wanted to know—because it only made her fantasies about him worse—but couldn’t quite escape. Van had gotten sick of being the go-to girl for information and advice on how to catch him. Everyone seemed to think she held the code.
And maybe she did. She had to admit, it’d felt amazing to have him come up to her during a football game, sling his arm around her shoulder and include her in whatever conversation he had going.
As far as she knew, he’d never had a long-term relationship. Not that his career really offered the opportunity to find love.
That was a laugh. Because neither did hers. Eight years of college and medical school, four years of residency. Long hours in the ER and plenty of stress. She’d tried dating in her mid-twenties. Had a solid relationship that lasted about eight months.
Ty shifted, his hips sliding against the counter behind him. God, he looked good. But, then, he always had. His biceps bulged against the tight sleeves of the faded T-shirt he’d thrown on this morning. Ink snaked down his right arm, stark black against the golden tan of his skin.
His thighs were huge. She’d bet she couldn’t wrap both hands around the circumference of one. She’d kill to see him in a pair of running shorts, the ropy muscles bunching and straining with movement. She was definitely a leg and ass girl.
“I had to sign an agreement, on your behalf.”
It took Van several seconds to realize what Ty was talking about. Oh, yeah, they were discussing the dog...and not Ty Colson’s fine physique.
“Kaia can no longer be used for security or patrolling, but she knows plenty of commands, most of them you shouldn’t need. Since I’m here, I wanted to teach you the few that would be useful.”
Van’s eyes went wide. Honestly, when her parents had first told her Ty had contacted them about adopting Kaia she hadn’t known how to feel. Conflicted was really the only choice.
She’d heard Ty tell friends and family at the funeral about how Kaia had stayed with Ryan at the end, draping her body over his in a valiant attempt to shield him, despite her own injuries. She was a soldier, willing to die, and deserved to be rewarded for her service.
But every time Van’s gaze met Kaia’s, taking in her dark brown, watchful eyes and missing leg, a blast of grief shot through her chest. The dog was going to be a constant reminder of Ryan’s death. One she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to endure.
She’d