Page 25 of Rescuing Dr. Marian (Made Marian Legacy #1)
FOSTER
The past two weeks had been a blur of stolen moments and sleepless nights. Of Tommy’s hands on my skin, his mouth on mine, and him whispering my name against my throat when he thought I was asleep.
Strictly physical , I’d said.
Well, fuck knew, we had the physical part down.
The “strictly” part wasn’t going quite as well for me.
Not when my stomach somersaulted every time Tommy smiled at me from across the training yard, or a mountain trail, or a classroom.
Not when I found myself holding him—fine , cuddling him—long after he fell asleep, just so I could spend a few more minutes inhaling the clean, citrus scent of his shampoo.
Not when I’d had to stop myself multiple times from thinking, “Next summer, Tommy and I should…” as though another summer with him was a thing I might have .
But I wasn’t the only one suffering from my distraction. Chickie’s training had suffered, too.
And that stopped today.
“Come on, girl,” I called, clipping on her leash as she bounded toward me with her usual enthusiasm. “Time to actually learn something useful.”
I’d picked a secluded meadow at the outer edge of campus, far enough away that we wouldn’t be disturbed but close enough people could find us if we were needed. The morning sun slanted through the pine trees, warming the grass and creating perfect conditions for scent work.
Tommy appeared from our cabin, looking unfairly good in tactical pants and a fitted SERA T-shirt. “You sure you want me for this? I don’t know anything about dog training.”
“You don’t need to,” I said, trying to ignore the way his shirt pulled across his chest. “You’ll be the victim. Chickie needs to learn to track.”
“I can do that,” Tommy said, crouching down to let Chickie lick his face. “Hey there, girl. Ready to learn some new tricks?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.
These past weeks had shown me a side of Tommy I hadn’t expected—playful, curious, completely lacking in ego about learning new things.
He’d asked a dozen questions about search and rescue techniques, had practiced rope knots until his fingers were sore, and never once acted like his medical degree made him too important for other wilderness skills.
It was endearing as hell. And dangerous for my peace of mind.
“Alright, first lesson,” I said, pulling a plastic bag from my pack. “Scent articles. She needs to learn your specific scent, not just follow any human trail.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “How exactly do we do that?”
“By giving her something that smells like you.” I handed him the bag. “I stole the shirt you wore yesterday. Rub it on your hands, maybe your neck. The stronger the scent, the better.”
I watched as Tommy worked the fabric between his palms, then dragged it along his throat. The simple motion shouldn’t have been erotic, but the damned tease wanted to make an entire meal out of the thing.
“Like this?” he asked, batting his eyes with mock innocence.
I yanked it away from him and muttered, “I feel like I’m suddenly in a threesome with that shirt.”
For the first fifteen minutes, everything went smoothly.
I walked Tommy through the basics. How to lay a scent trail by walking normally but letting the shirt drag the ground slightly behind him.
Where to hide so Chickie would have to work to find him but not get frustrated.
How to reward her with praise and treats when she succeeded.
The problem was that every lesson required me to touch him.
Guiding his hands to show him the right angle for dragging the shirt.
Crouching behind him to demonstrate how to move quietly through the underbrush.
Standing close enough to smell his shampoo—that fucking delicious shampoo—while I explained the theory behind scent dispersal.
“Alright,” I said after Tommy had successfully laid his first practice trail. “Now, hide behind that fallen log, and let’s see if she can find you. ”
Tommy jogged over to the designated spot while I held Chickie back, letting her get excited about the game. “Find Tommy,” I told her, releasing her leash.
What happened next was not tracking. It was a missile launch.
Chickie took off like she’d been shot from a cannon, completely ignoring the careful, meandering scent trail Tommy had laid and heading straight for his hiding spot. She didn’t pause to sniff or investigate—she just ran directly to him like she had GPS coordinates.
“Chickie, no !” I called, but it was too late.
She launched herself at Tommy, knocking him backward onto his ass and covering his face with enthusiastic licks before he could even attempt to make her sit and wait for her reward.
“Well, she found me,” Tommy laughed as he tried to fend off her overexcited affections.
I jogged over and grabbed her collar, pulling her back. “That’s not tracking. That’s just… following her favorite person around. She’s supposed to use her nose, not her emotional attachment.”
“Well, isn’t scent sometimes tied to emotional attachment?” he asked, grinning as he wiped dog slobber off his cheek.
I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out a laugh, thinking about my new fascination with citrus shampoo. “Christ, I hope not.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Let’s try again.”
We tried again, but with the same result.
Chickie ignored the scent trail entirely and went straight to Tommy like she was playing fetch with a person instead of a ball.
She was clearly not learning to track. No matter how far into the trees he zigzagged and hid, she hotfooted it right to his location as fast as canine-ly possible.
“This isn’t working,” I muttered after the fifth failed attempt. “She’s too excited about you to focus on actual tracking work.”
Tommy sat up, brushing grass off his shirt. “So what do we do?”
“We switch,” I decided, handing him Chickie’s leash. “You handle her, I’ll be the victim. She needs to learn to work with someone who isn’t her obsession.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know the first thing about handling a tracking dog.”
“You’ll learn,” I said, yanking off my T-shirt and rubbing it under my arms before handing it over. “Besides, it’ll be good practice for both of you.”
Tommy’s eyes blinked a few times in rapid succession as he stared at my bare chest before glancing up at my eyes with a dazed look on his face. “Practice makes perfect.”
For the next thirty minutes, I coached Tommy through handling techniques while I laid trails with volunteer scent articles from other students while hiding others.
This worked much better—Chickie actually had to use her nose to find the target, and Tommy learned how to read her body language, when to encourage her, and how to reward success.
“You’re good at this,” I called from behind him as Tommy guided Chickie through a particularly tricky section of trail. “She’s actually working now instead of just running to her favorite person. ”
“She’s incredible,” Tommy called back, and I could hear the genuine pride in his voice as Chickie successfully navigated around a fallen tree to continue following the scent. “Look at her go!”
When Chickie finally found the target, she sat and waited for her reward like she was supposed to, tail wagging but focused on Tommy for direction.
“Good girl!” Tommy praised, giving her a treat and lots of pets. “You did such a good job!”
The sight of them working together, Tommy’s patient encouragement and Chickie’s growing confidence, did something dangerous to my chest, and I had to admit that exactly what I’d been afraid of had come to pass.
It wasn’t just physical attraction that made me crave him the way I did, but this.
The way he fit into my world like he’d always belonged here.
The way he looked at Chickie like she was his dog, too.
The way he looked at me like I was something more than… well, something more .
“You try being the victim again,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “And this time, make the trail more challenging.”
We’d just started the next round—thankfully with my shirt back on—when I heard voices approaching through the trees. I turned to see Robyn striding toward our meadow, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.
“There you are!” she called out cheerfully. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”
My jaw clenched automatically. “We’re training.”
“I can see that,” she said, her attention immediately focusing on Tommy as he emerged from behind a boulder with Chickie trotting proudly at his heels. “Tommy, you’re so good with her! You have such a natural way with animals.”
I watched as Robyn stepped closer to Tommy, her hand briefly touching his arm as she praised his technique. The casual contact set my teeth on edge.
“It’s all Foster,” Tommy said, completely missing the way Robyn was looking at him. “He’s an incredible trainer.”
“I’m sure,” she said, but her eyes never left Tommy’s face. “Actually, that’s why I was looking for you. We’re planning the evening campfire program, and I thought you might want to help. You’d be perfect for it.”
“Oh.” Tommy glanced at me, then back at Robyn. “It’s nice of you to ask, but?—”
“It’ll be fun,” Robyn continued, stepping even closer. “We could use someone with your people skills. And your…” She grinned up at him. “Your way of explaining things.”
I felt something hot and possessive flare in my chest. Mine .
The thought came unbidden and unwelcome, but I couldn’t shake it.
Tommy was mine, at least for now, and watching Robyn flirt with him like I wasn’t even there made me want to mark my territory in the most primitive way possible.
Like the predator he’d once jokingly accused me of being.
That was impossible for several reasons, of course.
First, he wasn’t actually mine. At no point had we made a commitment to anything other than hooking up. We’d never said we’d remain exclusive, not even for the summer.