by Ella Miles
I shake my head and shout over my shoulder, “I doubt that!” Although I do faintly remember him mentioning Jodi to me once before.
No man can be just friends with a woman. It just doesn’t happen. He has feelings for her, and I’m not going to stick around to see what those feelings are.
“Fine. Leave. I don’t want to be with a woman who doesn’t trust me anyway,” he says.
Then, nothing.
I stop walking and freeze for a second, taking in a deep breath.
What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be this mad about his relationship with Jodi. I should trust him.
I just can’t.
Men aren’t to be trusted.
Still, I turn around because maybe Kirk is different.
Maybe I’ll see the truth in his eyes. Maybe I’ll see how much he truly cares about me.
When I turn around though, Kirk is gone. He didn’t even bother to stick around long enough to fight for me.
I don’t cry. I don’t feel anything really. This is what I expected. For him to try to hurt me. I just can’t be hurt anymore. I will do anything to protect myself. Because even nice men like Kirk will hurt me if I let them.
I won’t go through that again.
I pull out my phone from my purse as I walk down the driveway and call for an Uber. I’m done with men. I’m happier when it’s just me and my pets. I’m good at being alone. I don’t need a man in my life. I just need to be happy.
I tie my curly black hair up into a high ponytail on my head. I can’t believe I spent time fixing it or that I bothered to wear a dress and heels for Kirk. Ridiculous. I grab my white coat from the back of my chair in my office and put it on. I should change into some scrubs and tennis shoes before I try to work, but I might as well get some use out of the brand-new pair of heels and dress that I bought for tonight. Who knows when I will ever wear either of them again?
I walk out of my office at the same time that Skye walks out of one of the exam rooms with a Scottish terrier on a leash.
She frowns when she sees me. “What did you do? Did you break up with Kirk?” Skye asks.
“You know me too well.”
“I would tell you to go home and pour yourself a big glass of wine and eat a pint of ice cream, but I know you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I’d rather be here, working. Being useful.”
She nods as the little black dog begins pulling roughly on the leash, getting bored with our conversation that it doesn’t understand in the slightest and trying to pull as hard as it can to find something more interesting.
“Go on. I’ll pick up the next patient,” I say.
Skye looks at me with her sad eyes as she starts walking the dog back toward the kennels.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. I’m just swearing off men for a while.”
Skye nods and then disappears around the corner. I start walking toward the front desk to let Cynthia know that I can take the next patient. Although it’s close to nine o’clock on a Friday night, and I don’t expect many more patients the rest of the night. Except the occasional emergency that usually isn’t even an emergency. Still, hopefully, I’ll be able to see a patient or two to distract me tonight.
“Hey, Cynthia, are there any patients for me to see?” I ask as I open the door to our modest waiting room.
The clinic as a whole is small. We only have two vets on staff—Skye and me. We have the money and the patients to expand to a larger space, but we are happy here. Maybe, one day, we will move to a larger space, but for now, we will make do with what we have.
“What are you doing here, hon?” Cynthia asks.
I sigh. “I should ask you the same thing. Doesn’t your shift end at seven?”
Cynthia smiles at me and tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “It ends when I get the work done. I had some paperwork to finish entering into the computer.” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to answer her question.
“Kirk and I broke up.”
Cynthia’s smile immediately drops into a frown. “He wasn’t good enough for you anyway, sweetie.”
I walk over to pick up the chart that I see lying on the corner of her desk, indicating that we have a new patient to treat. “They never are.”
“You should go home. Skye has everything covered here. I have a feeling it is going to be a slow night anyway.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I need a distraction. And taking care of someone’s sick pet is just what I need. You should go home though. That hubby of yours must be getting lonely.”
Cynthia sighs as she shuts down the computer and then gets up. She walks over and gives me a tight hug. “You’re going to be all right. You don’t need a man in your life to be all right.”
I nod. I don’t say that I have already come to the same conclusion myself. But it is hard to accept her words when I know that Cynthia is secretly a romantic at heart.
“I put the next patient in exam room three.”
“Emergency?” I ask.
Cynthia shakes her head. “No, not an emergency.” She pauses a second as a smile creeps back on her face, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You’ll see soon enough. Have a good night.” Cynthia grabs her bag and then walks out the door to the parking lot.
She doesn’t drive, but as soon as she walks out, her husband’s SUV pulls up. He jumps out of the car and then runs over to her. He gives her a sweet hug and a kiss before opening the door for her. They both look so happy.
That’s what I want. A man who will wait outside my office to pick me up, no matter how long. A man who greets me with a smile and hugs and kisses. A man who does simple, sweet things, like opening doors for me, no matter how old-fashioned that notion is.
I want an honest man who loves me. I’m just afraid Cynthia might have found the last man of that kind.
I glance down at the chart in my hand. I quickly flip it open as I walk toward exam room three. There is no name listed, which is pretty unusual. I keep reading further to see the breed is a German shepherd, and the age is approximately eight weeks. The dog is just in for a checkup and his puppy shots.
I shake my head. What person schedules a new puppy exam for nine o’clock on a Friday night? The kind who doesn’t have a life.
I knock on the door to the exam room and then open it as I continue reading over the chart to see if there is any other information that I need to know before seeing the patient.
“Hi. I’m Dr. Ivy Lane. It says here, you are in for a new puppy exam?” I ask as I look up. My heart stops when I do. My hand is already extended to shake the owner’s hand, as I always do, but I immediately pull it back. I’m not shaking his hand. I’m not going to do the exam. I don’t want anything to do with this man.
Because standing in front of me is Luca. A man I never thought I would see again. And I wouldn’t have if my eyes had traveled down far enough on the paperwork to see that he was the owner. I would have passed him right along to Skye.
I have so many questions for Luca.
What is he doing here?
How did he find me?
Why did he hurt me?
But my needing to know answers does nothing to make me want to stay in the same room with him for even a second longer. I don’t say another word to him. I don’t even look to see if he brought a dog in or if that dog needs my help. I turn and walk right back out the door.
I once thought I loved Luca, but then I realized you could never really love a liar.
2
Luca
Shit.
My plan backfired even faster than I’d thought it would. I’d thought she would at least stay and yell at me. Tell me how horrible of a person I was. How badly I’d hurt her. Maybe flash an engagement ring in my face if she were engaged or a picture of her new hot boyfriend. I’d thought she would at least take a look at the puppy lying on the floor, chewing on my shoelaces again.
> Instead, she just left. Taking her gorgeous body and smart mouth with her.
I scoop up the puppy and then run out the door after her, trying to salvage what is left of my plan. I admit now that it wasn’t a great plan. That, of course, she could run out and leave me all alone at any point. But, after seeing her again and feeling that ache return to my chest, I know I have to keep trying.
So, I run. Luckily, she doesn’t move very fast in her heels, and there are only so many places to hide in the clinic.
I grab her arm. “Wait!”
Her head whips around until her eyes are glaring at me. She still hasn’t looked at the bundle of fur in my arms.
“Why should I? You lied to me! You hurt me! You treated me like I was nothing. Like I was disposable. You’re lucky I haven’t called the police to have you arrested.”
I can hear every bit of pain that I caused her dripping off of every word. I hate that she is in pain. I hate that I am at least partially to blame for the pain. But I’m not sorry about what happened between us. Apologizing for the past would just be another lie that we would have to overcome.
Ivy’s nostrils flare, and her eyes shoot daggers as she stares at me. But then a soft black curl falls out of her ponytail, framing her face, and it’s like a shield has been lowered between us. Her eyes don’t seem as scary or angry with that curl gently hanging down in front of her face.
I hear a small whimper let out from the ball of fur that I have in my hands. She wiggles forcefully and then kicks me hard in the ribs. The puppy is doing everything it can to wiggle out of my arms. It firmly kicks me again in the ribs, and I can’t hold on to the puppy anymore. Hopefully, puppies are like cats in that they can just land on their feet without injury. But I have no idea.
The puppy leaves my hands but doesn’t fall to the ground. Instead, Ivy snatches the puppy out of the air, like she does this hundreds of times a day. I guess she does do this all day long. She easily holds the puppy and deals with the squirming like the professional that she is.
“How are you able to hold the puppy so easily without it kicking you in the ribs?” I ask, staring at her in amazement.
Ivy smiles at the puppy, who seems to have started to calm in her hands. She leans forward and lets the puppy kiss her on the cheek before she looks at me and glares again.
“Why did you get a puppy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, challenging me to tell her the real reason I got a puppy.
There is no way I’m telling her the real reason—that I got a puppy, so I would have a reason to come see her.
“A friend of mine found her roaming his street. His girlfriend is allergic, and he couldn’t keep it, so I did.”
“It?” she says, her grimace deepening.
“Sorry. Her,” I say, wishing I could take back my mistake. I’m not doing great at getting back on her good side. I’m not even doing enough to get her to tolerate me long enough to examine my puppy.
The puppy paws at her face again, and Ivy’s grimace drops as the tiniest smile ever appears. Ivy’s eyes dart back to me and then back to the puppy.
“Come on. Let’s make sure you’re in good health. You are going to need it if you are planning on living with your new daddy,” she says, talking to the puppy, as she walks back to the exam room.
I follow behind Ivy with a large smile on my face. I just have to make it back into the exam room with them to know that she is going to give me a second chance. Maybe not a second chance at love, but a second chance to be in her life. I’ll take it.
I almost expect her to kick the door closed to the exam room before I can even enter. When she doesn’t and I’m safe in the room, I take a deep breath before shutting the door myself.
Ivy, on the other hand, isn’t paying me any attention. She has the puppy on the exam table and is checking over her entire body. Completely ignoring me.
I sigh and rub the back of my neck, trying to figure out what I should do next. Yes, I have her in the same room as me, but it’s not helpful if she won’t even look at me.
I watch as she opens the puppy’s mouth and listens to her heart as the puppy squirms on the table and tries to lick her. I take the moment to study Ivy while she is focused on the puppy, and I try to figure out my next move.
She’s wearing a dress beneath her lab coat. A dress. I’m not even sure I ever saw her wear one in the year we were dating. Yet here she is, in a dress. The dress perfectly hugs her body, showing off how curvy her body is, even while the bulky lab coat tries to hide her body. I let my eyes drop down to her legs and then the heels I noticed earlier. Heels. She’s in freakin’ heels. Either she had a date that she thought was a lot more important than any date she’d ever gone on with me or something else important happened tonight.
I try to keep the jealousy at bay as I think about her with another man. I hate that thought. But I can’t hate her for being with another man. We broke up about two years ago. I’ve been with other women since her.
But I haven’t stopped thinking about her, no matter what woman I was with.
“So, how is my puppy doing?”
She lowers the stethoscope she was using to listen to the puppy’s heart from her ears and leaves it hanging around her neck. She has a frown on her face, and I think it’s because something is wrong with the puppy. I look down at the little squirt on the table. No way something could be wrong with something so adorable.
Could it?
“She’s doing good. She seems healthy. I would guess she is around ten weeks old. Maybe a little older. She could use a good bath and a couple of good meals to fatten her up a little bit more. She’s a little small for her age.”
The lump in my throat eases. She’s not worried about the puppy. She’s just mad at me.
“If you leave her here with me, I’ll make sure she gets fed and bathed. We will be able to put her up for adoption this week. She’ll go fast. She’s adorable.”
I pick up the puppy from the table and hold her against my chest. “Why do you think I’d want to put her up for adoption?”
Ivy puts her hand on her hip and gives me a knowing look. “Because I know you. You don’t like dogs. And I can get her adopted much faster now when she is still a puppy than six months from now when you realize that she is too much work and gets too big and you can’t handle her.”
“What makes you think I don’t like dogs?” I ask.
“Because you told me that you liked them. And you lie. So, therefore, you don’t like dogs.”
I frown. I don’t know how she came to the conclusion that I don’t like dogs. I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them. I’m somewhere in the middle. More neutral. They are likable even if they are a lot of work.
“I like this dog.”
She shakes her head. “What is the dog’s name?” she asks.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ve only had her for a day. I need more time to decide on such an important decision.”
“Bullshit. The only reason you have a dog is so that you could bring her here and have an excuse to see me. You’re not going to be able to take care of her when she’s fully grown.”
“That might be why I brought her to this specific clinic. Yes, I wanted to see you! But that’s not why I have her. I have her because I like dogs!”
“And when the dog isn’t trained and pees on your expensive rugs and rips up your couch and takes over your bed, how are you going to feel then?”
“First of all, I’m going to train the dog. And she wouldn’t do that anyway,” I say, nuzzling the puppy against my face. “Would you?” I ask the puppy, who licks my face. I turn my attention back to Ivy.
“And, second, she’s a German shepherd. Those are like the easiest dogs on the planet to train. That’s why they are used as police dogs. I’ll have her trained to be the perfect dog in no time.”
Ivy tries to stifle a laugh but then quickly gives up. “I’ll make sure I have a bed for her in about six months. That’s how long I give you
until you realize just how wrong you are.”
“Do you want to make any sort of bet on that?” I ask, hopeful.
She laughs. “No. I really hope I’m wrong. Because I don’t want to see your lying ass again.”
“That’s too bad. Because I plan on seeing a lot of you. I plan on making you fall in love with me again. I plan on making you mine.” Even if I have to adopt an animal a month to get her attention. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get her back.
3
Ivy
“I need to give her, her shots, and then you can go,” I say, turning toward the cabinet in the corner of the room that holds our basic medications and syringes.
“When do I need to bring her back in?” Luca asks.
I get the medication and syringes and then turn back to him. “Never. You should find a new vet. Or, at the very least, make sure to ask for Skye when you come back in a few months for more shots and to have her spayed.”
I take the puppy back out of his hands, careful not to touch him as I do. I don’t want the familiar feelings to return. I don’t want my heart to start fluttering at his touch. Or my pulse to race because of his grin. Or my breath to catch because of his sexy deep voice. I’m not going to let any of those things affect me.
“Do I need to distract her while you do that?” he asks, looking at me with his deep blue eyes.
I forgot about his damn eyes. How they make me weak in the knees. How they make me say yes to anything he wants.
While Luca holds on to the puppy, I walk back to the cabinet and counter where there are a container of treats, and I pull a couple out. I walk back over and hand him the treats.
“You can feed her these while I give her the shots. But she won’t feel a thing,” I say as I get lost in his eyes that show genuine concern for the small puppy.