Page 15 of Our Pucking Secret (2-Hour Quickies #4)

Amanda

One Month Later

"I don't know how you do this every day," Logan says, watching Otto work with Rex, our newest rescue German Shepherd.

They're in the outdoor training area behind the clinic, where Otto's been helping with our more challenging cases whenever he's "in the area"—which seems to be happening more frequently lately.

Laura and I sit on our break bench, sipping coffee and enjoying the show. Not just of Otto's expert training, but of Logan trying to understand it.

"Ze dog must know you are ze alpha," Otto instructs, demonstrating a command stance.

Logan attempts to mirror him but Rex just tilts his head, confused.

"That's not alpha," Otto sighs. "Zat's... confused tourist asking for directions."

"I held the same pose you did! "

"Ja. Like mannequin having seizure."

Laura nearly snorts coffee through her nose. "Is he always this brutal?"

"Otto or Logan?" I grin. "Because one's brutally honest and the other's just..." I wince as Logan trips over his own feet trying to maintain eye contact with Rex. "Brutal."

"Earlier he asked me if ferrets were just long rats," Laura whispers.

"Better than yesterday when he wanted to know if guinea pigs were failed hamsters."

We watch as Otto demonstrates a complex series of hand signals. Rex responds perfectly. When Logan tries, Rex just flops over for a belly rub.

"Ze dog is mocking you now," Otto declares.

"No, he's not. We're bonding."

"Zat is not bonding. Zat is pity."

I can't help smiling as I watch Logan—this professional athlete, this man who commands attention on ice—completely humbled by a dog who's decided he's more fun as a playmate than an authority figure.

"You know," Laura says thoughtfully, "most guys would have made excuses not to spend their free time here."

She's right. Instead of fancy restaurants or VIP events, Logan's chosen to spend his days off covered in dog hair and being critiqued by Otto.

"Seriously, I still can't believe he gave up his weekend in New York for this," Laura says, watching Logan now sprawled in the grass while Rex enthusiastically licks his face.

"Zat is not proper training position!" Otto calls out.

"He loves me," Logan argues from under the dog. "We have a connection."

"Ze connection is your aftershave. He thinks you are very expensive chew toy. "

I hide my smile behind my coffee cup. The truth is, seeing Logan here, so completely out of his element but trying anyway, does something to my heart. Laura is right—he could be at charity galas, high-end parties, anywhere but here in small-town Tennessee getting schooled by a German dog trainer.

"Watch zis," Otto commands, demonstrating a complex weave pattern with Rex. The shepherd executes it perfectly, earning a treat. "Now you."

Logan stands, brushing grass from his designer jeans. "Okay, buddy, let's show him."

Rex takes one look at Logan's attempt at the hand signal and promptly sits down to scratch his ear.

"Ze dog has better timing than you," Otto sighs. "He knows when to quit."

Laura leans closer to me. "You know, when you said you were dating a hockey player, I expected more..."

"Ego?"

"Something like that. Not..." she gestures to where Logan is now attempting to bribe Rex with treats while Otto mutters in German.

Logan finally gets Rex to complete a simple command and his face lights up like he's just won the Stanley Cup. "Good boy! Did you see that? He did it!"

"Ze dog felt sorry for you," Otto says, but I catch the slight smile he tries to hide.

"No way. We're totally in sync now. Watch this—" Logan attempts another command. Rex responds by stealing the entire treat bag and trotting away victoriously.

"In sync," Otto deadpans. "Like ballet dancer and drunk penguin."

I head toward them, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Because yes, Logan LaRue might be hilariously out of his depth here.

Yes, he might never fully understand the difference between ferrets and weasels.

And yes, he might currently be getting schooled by both a German trainer and a German Shepherd.

But he's here. Learning my world. Trying. And that means more than all the fancy dates in New York ever could.

"Need help?" I call out.

"Help?" Otto scoffs. "He needs miracle."

"I need water," Logan pants. "And maybe a map. And possibly a new career."

Rex chooses that moment to drop the treat bag at my feet, sitting perfectly at attention.

"Traitor," Logan mutters.

Watching them—Otto's stern instruction, Logan's determined attempts to learn, Rex's obvious amusement at it all—I realize something. This right here, this messy, funny, imperfect moment... this is what real love looks like.

Not trauma bonds or projection or any other clinical term. Just a man willing to make a fool of himself in front of a German Shepherd, all because he wants to understand my world.

"Again!" Otto commands. "Zis time without ze falling!"

Logan groans but gets back into position. "The things I do for love."

"Ze things you do for treats," Otto corrects. "Ze dog is not ze only one who’s being trained."

I hide my laugh in Rex's fur, my heart full of something that no scientific article could ever explain away. Because some things don't need explanation. They just need to be lived.

Even if that means watching the man you love get thoroughly owned by a dog named Rex while a German trainer questions all his life choices.

"Left! No, ze other... ach, never mind. Ze dog is now teaching you. I give up."