A dozen yards away, Gabriel Cortez knelt on the ground, his body disappearing under an onslaught of wiggling, yipping little balls of fluff. The pups’ mother—a golden retriever—watched, amused, as they mobbed Gabriel. A crooked smile on his face, he set down several bowls of food. The entire litter descended like a horde of locusts, except for the biggest puppy, who appeared quite satisfied rolling back and forth at Gabriel’s feet, and the smallest, who couldn’t seem to find a way around his siblings to the food. As I watched, Gabriel lifted the runt toward one of the bowls.

Beside me, Saskia stood and shook the morning dew off her fur, pelting me straight in the face.

That’s what you get, her expression seemed to say, for admiring puppies.

I stood, and though I moved with near silence, Gabriel looked up. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you don’t want me asking why you look like you slept on a tree.”

I stared directly at him. “I slept on a tree.”

“Never would have guessed.”

Jude had once spent an entire day trying to teach me what a smirk looked like. It had ultimately been unsuccessful because Jude was as bad at smirking as I was at recognizing that particular expression.

But I was nearly certain that Gabriel was smirking now.

“Why do you keep talking to me?” The question came out lower in pitch and more intense than I’d intended.

“Because I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut.” Gabriel delivered that statement in a tone that matched his facial expression almost exactly.

Beside me, Silver huffed. She stood, pressing the front half of her body down toward the ground in a stretch. Within seconds, she’d made a loop around my feet. She sniffed me, then glanced at Saskia, as if expecting the younger dog to report.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Gabriel said, lowering his voice. “But I’m pretty sure they’re talking about you.”

I almost smiled, but Gabriel chose that moment to shift his weight—slightly, almost imperceptibly—and the reminder that he was a stranger and unpredictable and a threat thrummed through me.

I didn’t put my guard down around threats.

He wants something. That’s what people do. They want, and they take. They—

A door slammed behind me, muting the thought, but not the increase in adrenaline that had come with it.

“I mean this in the least confrontational way possible, Gabriel, my well-muscled, puppy-feeding friend, but if this devolves into a wrestling match, I do not like your odds.” Jude knew how to make an entrance. He also knew how to take the attention unerringly off of me. “So let’s keep this civilized,” Jude continued. He gestured toward the puppies. “Think of the children!”