Page 54 of Interference

He snickered. “So how did that work out for them?”

“Two turned ankles—not the same person—a concussion, and a safety briefing.”

“A safety briefing?”

I nodded, making a face. “That’s when the brass calls everyone into formation and lectures us about why we can’t do some stupid shit because we’ll get hurt. They’re actually kind of funny sometimes. Like, we had one base commander who insisted on safety briefings for every-goddamned-thing. So we kept dreaming up wilder and wilder stuff just to listen to him tell us, with a completely straight face, that we couldn’t do whatever stupid shit anymore.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, let’s see.” I thought about it. “The barracks hallway is not an appropriate or safe place to have races on office chairs. The chapel parking lot is not an appropriate or safe place to have races on office chairs. The flight line is not a safe place for—you get the idea.”

Anthony cackled. “That commander was no fun.”

“Right?” I tsked. “Especially the chapel parking lot. It was on a perfect slope, so you could haul some serious ass in a chair.” I paused. “Well, unless you hit a bump or the cheap-ass wheel fell off, and then…”

“Then you had a safety briefing.”

“Bingo.”

We both laughed and continued through the store. At one end cap, Anthony looked, then did a doubletake. “Are these…” He looked closer. “They make hiking boots for dogs?”

“Oh, yeah. Lily actually had a set for a while.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Mmhmm. They’re good for hot pavement. Or cold. Or if there’s broken glass or something.”

He met my gaze. “Should we get her a couple of sets?”

“I…” I glanced at the boots. Then at my dog. She would definitely be safer out there with them. We sometimes had to stay in unsavory areas with glass and needles on the ground. And once we’d weathered the winter, summer would be along, and the pavement would be awful on her paws, and—

“Wyatt.” Anthony’s voice was gentle. “I’m serious—anything you or Lily need.”

I chewed my lip, not sure if it was pride or fear that had me hesitating to agree to it. I skimmed my gaze over the items we’d already put in the cart. “If, um… It would be a good idea. Maybe we can put back some of the—”

“No.” He said it firmly, but not unkindly. “Whatever you both need. Period.”

I held his gaze, unsure what to say or even feel.

After a moment, he softly said, “I’m serious. Money isn’t an issue. Like I told you, I remember when it was an issue, and someone helped me and my family through it. I want to pay it forward, and I wouldn’t be doing that if I pinched pennies. That means anything you need, and anything Lily needs. You want to keep your dog safe and comfortable, and so do I, so whatever you need for her”—he gestured at the dog boots—“it’s all yours.”

I slowly released a breath. “Thank you. I wish there was a way I could pay it back or forward, but I have no idea if I’ll ever—”

“It’s okay. You two will be taken care of. That’s enough for me.”

I had to swallow hard. Then, without a word, I took one of the dog boots off the rack. Crouching didn’t work very well with a prosthetic, so I found a bench, sat down, and had Lily sit. “Paw.”

She put up her front paw, and she patiently let me slide the boot onto it. Then I did the same for the other. She peered down at them. When I stood and told her to come, she took a tentative step, tapping the boot on the floor a couple of times.

“It’s okay, baby,” I said. “Come here.”

She glanced up at me. Then she took a few clumsy steps forward. I walked her in a couple of circles, and before long, she moved easily in them.

“See?” I said with a laugh. “They’re just like the ones you used to have. Good girl.”

She wagged her tail.

Anthony chuckled. “She learns quick, doesn’t she?”

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