Page 4 of Under His Command

“Impossible. He’s a lab; happy all the time, which makes for a crap watchdog, let me tell you. Everyone is his friend—the mailman, joggers, serial killers.”

She laughedat his gentle jab. “He’s sweet. As are you, for coming to my rescue.”

“I’m glad I came along when I did, and that I didn’t have to put my CPR skills to the test.” She caught a flash of his white teeth in the dark. “You’re little, and with the waves rolling in, knocking you around, you looked like a flounder washing up on shore.”

His husky laughter wrapped around her, sparking a tingle of excitement. Too enamored to take offense at being compared to a flat, ugly fish, and a dead one at that, she joined in.

They chatted amicably all the way to the lot where she’d parked. Cassie retrieved her phone from her purse in the trunk where she’d left it for safekeeping. Good thing, too, or it would have been waterlogged for sure. She called a taxi, and as promised, Flynn kept her company, without another lull in the conversation until it arrived.

He opened the back door for her, but before she slid in, took her phone from her fingers. She didn’t protest, although she leaned in, watching as his thumbs moved over the screen, adding a number to her contacts.

“Next time you’re lonely or need to celebrate, you call Roscoe and me. We’ll keep you safe and out of trouble.” He said this with a smile in his eyes that, thanks to the streetlights, she now knew were a beautiful gray with hints of dark blue. Though he didn’t say a word, one dark-blond brow quirked in amusement as he handed back her phone.

She accepted it, suppressing a groan upon seeing his very masculine hand holding her girlie-pink glitter case. No wonder everyone thought she was a kid.

Still, she tamped down her embarrassment and said sincerely, “It was nice meeting you, Flynn.” His dog whimpered, ensuring he wouldn’t be left out. She bent and gave him an ear scratch. “And you, too, Roscoe.”

Her gaze shifted back to his handsome owner, wondering if this would be the last time she saw him.

“Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Cassie.” He stepped back, and she had no choice but to slide into the back seat of the waiting cab.

As it pulled away, she gave him a little wave, knowing she’d never have the nerve to call him. Because the way he left it, with her having his number, not the other way around, she’d have to be the one to make the next move—something out of character for her.

Chapter 2

The radio and AC wentsilent when Cassie twisted the key on her eighteen-year-old sapphire-blue Mazda Mx-5. Sadly, the engine did not. It continued to knock and ping for several more seconds after it was off, as it had for weeks.

Her roadster convertible was old, but she kept the body and interior in pristine condition, and since the top still worked like a charm and came down with the simple push of a button, it made driving along the coastline in southern California extra fun. Besides being awesome, it had sentimental value for her, considering it was the first purchase she’d made by herself after college. No cosigner, only her name on the dotted line, just like a grown-up.

She loved it on sight. Her dad, not so much. Jacob Hardwick had taken one look at the tiny two-seater and about had a stroke. A perennial purveyor of doom and gloom when it came to his daughter and what he called her flagrant disregard for safety, he predicted her end culminating in a late-night call from a hospital ER when she wrapped the “impractical, insubstantial, pathetic excuse for a vehicle” around a tree.

These were his words verbatim. She’d heard them often enough they’d become etched into her brain.

His worry was justified, however, considering she’d had a few automotive mishaps back in high school. That, along with her other teenage antics, caused 99.9 percent of the gray hair atop his fifty-three-year-old head. At least that’s what he told her mother every time the subject came up.

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