Page 21 of Wounded Warrior K-9

“You were locked in with him?” She supposed she had been. “Did he put his hands on you? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes. But no,” she quickly reassured him when he growled something in his throat. “He just made me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to talk myself out of worrying about it. Like maybe I just didn’t understand his intention. But… I don’t know.” She stared out the window a few moments, watching a handful of pedestrians and several cars go by outside. “I thought we were friends. That’s how I see him anyway. He claimed he’s been flirting with me for a while now. Explained it like I was an idiot or a prude for not realizing it, for not jumping at the chance to go out with him. The whole conversation felt…weird.”

Daniel’s voice was like gravel. “Then he crossed a line.”

Polly’s throat tightened as she met his unblinking gaze. “So, I’m not just a socially awkward woman who hasn’t dated enough men to recognize flirting when it happens to her?”

He shook his head, just one sharp movement to the side and back. No.

“Have you been flirting with me?” she asked, wondering if she’d been blind to his unspoken signals, too.

He didn’t answer. They sat in silence for a beat before Pirate shifted beneath the table. That soft tail thumped against her foot.

“I’m socially awkward,” Daniel finally said. “I left flirting behind on a botched mission in the Middle East. You’re…lovely and kind.”

More compliments that made her blush and smile. Who needed flirting when a man listened to what she had to say, and then said things like that to her? A man who she believed meant the things he said to her.

He turned his head to track something outside the window. “You know anyone who drives a brown car?”

She frowned at the abrupt change in topic. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Probably nothing. I’m a paranoid SOB.”

He went quiet, his gaze fixed outside the window. The silence lasted long enough for her to finish her pastry, and for Mollie to bring a refill carafe of coffee.

After Polly thanked her friend, she tried to come up with a topic of conversation to break the brooding silence and bring Daniel’s attention back to her. Or maybe just back to the present. When she heard Pirate crawl out from under the table and up into the booth beside Daniel to lick his face, she praised the dog for doing what she couldn’t.

“Pirate’s a good service dog. He’s very attentive to you and your moods.”

“Get down, you dumb mutt.” Chastising the dog in a tone that sounded a lot more like loving indulgence, Daniel hugged the dog around the neck and then pushed him down onto the bench seat to keep his nose away from the top of the table. “Pirate isn’t certified. He figured out how to do the job on his own.”

“But he’s more than a pet,” she pointed out.

Daniel nodded. “He keeps an eye out on what’s happening on my blind side. He keeps my head in the moment when my brain and body go on alert, and I can’t get myself out of the memories stuck in my head. He helps me socialize. As much as I can.”

“He helps with your PTSD?” He gave her a sharp look, seeming ready to deny it. But the clues were obvious. Polly shrugged. “PTSD therapy group at St. Luke’s once or twice a week? You said you were in the Marines. Your injuries. I don’t have to be a detective to piece that one together.”

“I was Marine Force Recon. Their version of Special Forces.” She could tell he was debating how much to share with her. His fingers fisted on the tabletop, and she wanted to reach over and cover his hand with her own. Pirate whined from the seat beside him. He stroked his hand along Pirate’s back, grounding himself. He skipped over whatever memory had darkened his expression and praised the dog before looking over at Polly again. “My unit discovered Pirate roaming the streets on one of our missions. I had a buddy who named him Pirate because of the one eye. It was his idea to do the eye patch thing.” Had a buddy. Past tense. But she wasn’t going to say anything because she didn’t want him to stop talking. Instead, she warmed her fingers around her coffee mug and waited for Daniel to continue. “Pirate adopted us, became part of the team. We fed him, gave him a warm place to sleep. In return, he made us laugh, kept us warm. And his ears and nose were a better early-warning system than any of our equipment was. Hell, if he’d been with us when…”

His voice trailed away, and she knew he wasn’t going to talk about whatever had happened. She hoped he was talking to someone about it. But since he’d already admitted that he’d been talking a lot more than usual tonight, she didn’t expect him to share the details of those personal tragedies with her. Although, she’d certainly be willing to listen. Just as she was fascinated with studying his face and mannerisms, she was eager to hear him talk and share meaningful things with her.

Sensing the conversation would end, and he’d be heading for the exit if she didn’t ask a question, she did. “So, how did you get Pirate from wherever you were to Kansas City with you?”

The deep groove beside his mouth eased and he nodded. “I got hurt. Since I lost my eye and they were sending me home, it seemed like kismet that I’d take our one-eyed dog with me. I had to jump through a few hoops to get him stateside. They quarantined him to make sure he had his shots and was healthy. I was still in the hospital when they released him. A buddy of mine picked him up and brought him for a visit. One of my doctors said he was good for me. Kept my blood pressure from spiking. Distracted me from the memories. Pirate’s been with me ever since.”

“You could get him certified for real,” Polly suggested. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about people like Cat Lady over there.” When he didn’t comment or ask for information, she kept talking. “My mom’s a veterinarian, and her best friend is Jessie Caldwell, who runs K-9 Ranch. I take my pup, Luna, there once a week for basic training. They’re becoming famous for rescuing and training dogs. They do all kinds of work there. How to be a good pet, like Luna. They work with the KCPD K-9 Unit on specialized training. They train service dogs like Mollie’s Malinois over there. There’s a guy there who rehabilitated a dog who was in the military like you, and now he’s his service dog. Rocky, I think. The dog, not the handler.”

Daniel nodded. “Ben Hunter. I know him and Rocky. He’s in my group.”

“That’s right. I’ve seen him at the hospital, too.” Why not? If Daniel was willing to open up and be a little more social with her, shouldn’t she be brave enough to do the same? “I take Luna on Thursday evenings. That’s the day I volunteer at the clinic, so I don’t have a late hospital shift. You and Pirate could come with me if you want. You could check out the place and the people, see if you want to get Pirate certified.” No response. “As your service dog.” He was just staring at her with that one stormy gray eye. The pinpoint scrutiny made her a little nervous. So, she kept talking. “He’d get a vest. My sister’s fiancé has a service dog who was certified there. He wears a vest. Blitz. Again, the dog, not my future brother-in-law.”

“You’re asking me to go with you tomorrow night?”

That was the part of her rambling conversation he was hung up on? “If you want. I know the people and could introduce you. It doesn’t have to be a date.”

“What if I want it to be another date?”

She felt her own eyes open wide. “Do you?”