He didn’t recognize the car but kept to a walk, not wanting to push Bella too hard in this heat. As he drew closer, whoever sat on the wicker chair rose, and he realized a woman stood waiting for him. A slender woman with blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, sunglasses covering her eyes, and a sleeveless dress that hugged familiar curves walked down the three steps to the path leading to the driveway.

Sasha.

Fuck.

She looked beautiful. The black dress was cute and fitted, with sunflowers on the skirt and a small one on the tight top, ending just above the knee. With her hair back, she appeared young and as vulnerable as she had the night they’d met. His heart, already beating hard from his run, picked up speed, and he damned the effect she had on him.

He had no intention of rushing and giving her the wrong impression, but his dog hadn’t gotten the memo and she took off at a run. Traitor.

Bella had failed at becoming an emotional service dog because she hadn’t been able to ignore distractions, as proven by her run and now jump on Sasha. Since Xander’s issues weren’t serious in comparison to many who’d enlisted and come home, Xander had chosen Bella and her quirks, leaving the trained dogs to those who might need them more.

“Bella, down!”

At the sound of his voice and command, his girl placed all four paws on the ground and sat, but she quivered with the need to jump on their guest again.

“Sorry,” Xander said to Sasha. “She’s a little exuberant, even with strangers.”

She treated him to a soft smile. “It’s okay. She’s sweet.” She reached out and petted his dog’s head. “What’s her name?”

“Bella.”

“Meaning beautiful in any language,” Sasha murmured, obviously aware that the name was Latin and related in some way to that word in all the Romance languages.

She was beautiful. Not just his dog but Sasha herself. The woman who didn’t care if a dog with dusty paws, dirty from a run, jumped on her designer dress. Because she could now afford to upgrade her clothes, and this outfit looked high quality, unlike the Target outfits she’d attempted to dress up once upon a time.

And he didn’t want to notice anything about her. Not the good similarities to the past or the changes in the present. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a gruffer voice than he’d used before.

She folded her arms across her chest, running her palms over her bare skin on her forearms. “I thought we should talk.” She lifted one delicate shoulder as if that explained everything. “You know, because we’ll be working together.”

Not if he could help it. He intended to stay far away. “A little warning before showing up would have been nice.”