Free Taking Heart by T. J. Kline Page B

Dylan practically oozed sexuality, but he hadn’t given her any indication that he saw her as more than his dog’s trainer. She couldn’t count the moment they shared on the log, since she’d been vulnerable at the time and he’d simply been offering a shoulder to cry on. She needed to regain control of herself and shake off whatever hormonal overload she was suffering from.
    He walked back and sat beside her, leaning forward to slide a slice of pizza onto a paper plate. “Jim Carrey okay?”
    â€œSure.” She was a bit surprised by his choice of movie since he didn’t seem like the comedy type, but she also wondered if he just felt the need to laugh. She was more shocked that he’d chosen to sit so close when there were recliners on each side of the couch, but she wasn’t about to complain, even as her pulse leapt into hyperdrive. Any thoughts of eating went right out the window as her stomach did a nervous flip.
    Julia picked at her pizza, finally setting what was left of the slice on top of the box and turning her attention to the movie, instead of the man beside her. She forced herself to relax, curling her legs under her and letting her head rest against her palm. Dylan was reclined in the corner of the couch, his eyes focused on the television with a ghost of a smile on his lips. She let her eyes stray over him.
    He was incredibly handsome, the way only movie stars and sports figures were. Muscular, tanned, and rugged. Real people weren’t supposed to look the way he did. But there was a sadness that seemed to cling to him, even when he laughed, as if he couldn’t let himself go completely. She remembered how it felt to hold a part of herself hidden from life. She still did it at times, although not as often as she had at first after being released from the hospital. There was always a fear that lingered, something that couldn’t quite be buried. She saw that same pain in Dylan’s dark eyes.
    She laid her head on her arm, blinking slowly. The last thing she heard was Dylan’s warm laughter, and she knew she couldn’t help but fall in love with the rich sound of it.
    D YLAN HEARD THE rattle outside the back door at the same time as the dogs jumped up. Tango gave a low growl in his throat while Roscoe edged closer to the kitchen before looking back at him. He glanced at Julia, who’d fallen asleep on the couch. He didn’t want to wake her, so he eased himself from the cushion and made his way toward the sound.
    He signaled at Roscoe to heel and noticed that Tango had moved to stand between him and Julia. It was right where he wanted him to be, and he was surprised by the dog’s protective instincts, although he knew he probably shouldn’t have been. He heard another noise in the backyard, but this time it sounded like footsteps. He pressed his body against the wall, sliding through the doorway into the dark kitchen. Squatting low, Dylan moved into the shadows, creeping forward on the balls of his feet, and edged closer to the back door, listening for any other sounds. A dog barked in the kennel once but fell quiet. He heard a whisper of sound, like the wind through the shrubbery—or a person snapping a branch. The dog in the kennel began barking again, letting out a howl before the entire group joined in, creating a cacophony of canine singing. He heard distinctive footsteps this time and the slam of the back gate.
    Moving quickly, he ran into the backyard, remaining low so he wasn’t seen. Pushing open the gate, he could see a shadow disappearing behind the kennel, too far away to make out. The intruder might be gone now, but Dylan had his suspicions as to the identity of the shadow. This time, he didn’t care how much Julia argued. He would insist she call the police.
    Roscoe scratched at the door, jumping up to see Dylan through the window as he made his way back through the gate, making a mental note to get a lock on it