Page 9 of Decoding Morse

No. Her eyes filled with concern, and she settled her palms against my bare arm. “You’re freezing.”

She looked me over, and I had to remember how to fucking breathe. Everything about this woman knocked me on my ass.

“You’re not even wearing a coat.”

Surprised by her admonishment, I glanced down, and sure enough, I wasn’t. I’d ridden all the way from Seattle to Lakewood in the drizzling springtime weather.

“I… You were in danger. I didn’t think.”

Her brow furrowed in thought. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before ushering me inside. Her touch was fucking torture as she led me across the threshold. Nostalgia punched me in the face as the years melted away until I was once again a terrified eighteen-year-old who’d just left everyone and everything I’d ever known to rely on the kindness of strangers.

No. I wasn’t that boy anymore. This time, I was here to rescue, not to be rescued. Straightening my shoulders, I marched on. Ted’s image watched me from the family portrait above the fireplace. Vowing to do right by him, I gave the canvas a nod.

A bark and the harsh sound of paws scrabbling on the floor caught my attention. Experience had given me a healthy respect for dogs and their powerful jaws with sharp teeth, so I started backtracking, reaching for the doorknob, even before I fully registered the black ball of fur barreling toward me. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten all about the dog.

“She doesn’t bite,” Morgan said, though she made no move to intercept the beast. “Worst she’ll do is pee on you.”

The dog’s movements were off. Rather than running in a straight line for me, her ass kept swinging side to side, trying to overtake her head like some old-time cartoon character. She stopped inches from my boots and tried to jump on me. I stepped back, easily evading her efforts, and she flopped backdown on all fours and rolled onto her back, whining pathetically. I’d seen this behavior before from Boots, Link’s dog. He roamed the fire station, eating treats and encouraging people to pet him.

“Am I supposed to scratch her belly?”

“No!” all three women shouted at once.

“It’s a trap. Give in, and she’ll pee.” Thia marched past the living room furniture and slid open the glass door leading to the backyard. “Come on, Bailey. Out you go.”

Bailey sprinted out the door, ass still racing her head.

Everyone jumped as the dog started barking hysterically.

“Fuck,” muttered a familiar masculine voice.

Thia flicked on the outside light. Rabbit’s hands shot up as he squinted into the light.

“He’s with me,” I said as the hairball collapsed in submission at Rabbit’s feet.

“What the fuck?” Rabbit muttered.

This mission was getting out of control. “He’ll need the outside lights off in order to keep watch,” I said.

Thia slapped the switch off. “Bailey, come.”

The hairball scrambled to her feet and scurried back in, sprinting for the bathroom.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“She was the runt of the litter.” Morgan flopped onto the sofa and focused on her tablet. “She’s neurodivergent.”

“The dog?”

“Yep.” Morgan nodded. “Takes anxiety meds and everything.”

“Huh. Learn something new every day.”

Amelia tapped her head with a finger. “Knowledge is power.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

Morgan’s eyebrows rose, and I realized I’d just dropped the F-bomb in front of a minor. Not technically, since she’d recently turned eighteen, but she was still in high school.

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