Page 88 of Tango

Tango’s tail thumped in a slow hedonistic cadence.

“You were saying Tango is Ukrainian?” she asked.

“My landlady had a breeding pair. I was there when Tango’s litter was born. That was something.” Ethan had paid a lot of money for the pup, mainly because the men in that house—and, heck, in their village—were dead or fighting, and the women and children needed to eat.

Ethan didn’t have much. But he had some cash stashed away, and it felt like a good parting salute. “Creed introduced me to Reaper over video.” Ethan nodded Creed’s way, then turned back to Suz. “Reaper—do you know him? He’s the lead trainer at Cerberus.”

“Reaper's a friend,” Suz said, scooting forward to massage Tango’s ears.

Tango responded with a long moan.

“They had me put all the pups through Reaper’s tests on video. I have to say, I was rooting for Tango. She and I were two peas right from the start.”

Suz reached for Jack, and he moved around behind her to hoist her back to her feet.

Tango looked up at Suz, confused about why the petting had stopped.

Ethan dropped his hand to Tango’s head, thinking that Tango had always felt like she was his life partner.

Was she perfect? No, but neither was Ethan. They’d learned to put up with each other’s idiosyncrasies and help each other grow—flawed yet loved.

That, right there, was a good life lesson.

In the field, Tango matched Ethan’s intensity.

At the end of the day, Ethan could drink a glass of wine and read, relaxed by the rumble of Tango’s snores and the sense that she could let the day go—she wasn’t churning it over and over. Ethan tried to emulate her dog magic of living in the moment. There were times to bite and times to snooze; times for curiosity and times of boredom.

And Tango always seemed to intuit what was needed to even Ethan out.

Tango was goofy when Ethan grew too serious. She was calm when his mind was racing.

Born in a war zone with bombs falling and buildings collapsing, there was little that unsettled her. But when she bonded with someone, it was fast and solid.

Tango had bonded with Piper.

Ethan saw it in her posture at Le Canard Frou-Frou when she leaned out to sniff.

A dog can smell a drop of gas in a pool of water. Tango wasn’t confused that Piper and Amanda Harcourt were the same woman. Tango might have remembered Piper from the Alabaster hallway.

When Ethan first shook Piper’s hand, he felt like her hand belonged in his.

Yeah, that had been the sensation, same as at the hospital when she was so pale and shivery under her covers. He’d reached out, and she’d slid her hand into his without hesitation. Click.

At some point, something in her doggy brain registered that Piper was under Tango’s protection.

And that’s why Tango kept watch as Piper crossed the bridge and why Tango was on high alert.

Tango's attention was ultimately the reason Piper wasn’t thrown in the back of that van.

That thought drove fury through Ethan’s system.

She was safe, Ethan reminded himself. He took a breath and realigned his thoughts. “I was thrilled when Tango made the grade for the Cerberus program,” Ethan told Suz. “I met good people through the experience of getting her skills up to snuff.”

“I remember back when Reaper and Creed said they were helping you long distance,” Jack said, tucking Suz under his arm. “I didn’t realize you were over in Ukraine at the time.”

“Our video connection was hit or miss,” Creed said. “But we did our best.”

“Then home,” Jack said.