Groomed for Love

by Helen R. Myers

  She couldn’t deny that she was feeling an odd mixture of apprehension and excitement at the idea of seeing Noah again. Maybe she was being a glutton for punishment, but she wanted to make him see what others had no problem noticing—that she was good at what she did and fun to be around.

  She didn’t have to wait long for him. Noah must have really kept his foot on the accelerator to arrive only a minute or two later.

  “What’s going on?” he asked her, upon parking in back and emerging from the black BMW.

  He looked much more approachable dressed in a pale blue denim shirt and designer jeans, but his lack of a tan and his Italian loafers made it obvious that he was no outdoorsman, let alone a cowboy. Nevertheless, Rylie’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and she almost forgave him for his curtness earlier.

  “Doc had an emergency and Roy had a previous commitment. He’ll be back later. We agreed that he would just keep this door unlocked instead.”

  “They don’t trust you with a key?” he asked, rounding to the passenger side of the vehicle.

  So much for wishing that he’d come with a better attitude, Rylie thought. “I’ve only been here for a short while. Uncle Roy didn’t get a key when he first started, either.” She couldn’t, however, resist adding, “Have you always acted so condescending and superior with people, or is this a side that only I bring out in you?”

  Noah looked taken aback. “Me? Condescending? Serious maybe. Mine is that kind of profession. The price for putting criminals where they belong means having to fixate on the unpleasant, often brutal side of life. Not everyone has the luxury of seeing the world as glass half-full every waking moment as you do.”

  Oddly enough, Rylie was almost consoled by his answer. If that’s how he saw her, she thought, opening the door herself, then she was a better actress than she’d hoped. “Well, all of that fixating is doing bad things for whatever charm you inherited from your wonderful mother. Maybe you should consider a job change before it starts to affect your health.” Before Noah could reply, she reached for Bubbles and cooed, “Poor darling. Easy does it. We’re going to get you feeling better. I promise.”

  The pink towel the young dog was lying in was significantly stained, warning Rylie to lift her with extra care. Once the dog was in her arms, she turned for the back door.

  “Can you get that for me?” she asked Noah.

  Without comment, he slammed the car door shut and pressed the remote lock on the key. Then he jogged the few steps to open the steel-and-glass clinic door.

  Inside, Rylie led the way to the nearest stainless-steel operating table. The fluorescent lights remained on, and it made the room as bright as midday. Whispering soothingly to the little dog that was trying to burrow her head into Rylie’s armpit, she eased Bubbles onto the table.

  “Poor friend. What happened here, huh? Gonna let me see so I can make it better?”

  “You’re authorized to do this?” Noah asked, coming up beside her.

  Without taking her eyes off the wound, Rylie said, “I’m at least capable of seeing how badly she’s hurt. Did you manage that much?”

  Noah admitted, “No, and neither did Ramon.”

  “Were you present when the accident happened?”

  “I was pretty much the cause of it.” At Rylie’s startled glance, he continued. “Mother was annoyed with me. I was supposed to be working later than she expected. After changing, I came downstairs and caught her trying to have more wine than is safe for her. With her nurse upstairs preparing her bath, and our housekeeper outside in the garden, she thought she was alone.”

  “You startled her.”

  “I did,” he said, regret deepening his voice. “She doesn’t have the strength she thinks she has despite the therapy she gets, and the bottle and glass slipped from her grasp. A moment later, upset at the commotion that followed, Bubbles got into the mess, and the rest you can see.”

  It was apparent by the way Noah looked everywhere but at her that he was either embarrassed, or ashamed, or both. Rylie had heard enough to understand that it didn’t matter how much money you had, a condition like Mrs. Prescott’s was difficult for more than the patient.

  “I’m very sorry,” she said with the utmost sincerity. “I promise that won’t go any further, and I hope she wasn’t cut, too?”

  “Externally, no. However, you can imagine what it did to her emotionally to see the hurt she’d caused her baby.”

  “I suspect you will always be her baby,” Rylie assured him. “The thing is that Bubbles is who she’s allowed to coddle. If you can learn to look at it that way, it might not annoy you so much. Besides, you don’t strike me as a man who would enjoy being stroked and petted relentlessly.”

  “It depends on who’s doing it.”

  The throaty reply made Rylie grateful to have the dog to focus on. It would seem that the county’s assistant D.A. wasn’t quite the cold fish he pretended to be. That was information her imagination didn’t need.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she assured Bubbles. “I’m just going to... Yeah, there it is. There’s a shard about the width of a large sewing needle between her toes. It did some slicing before getting lodged where it is now.”

  “Will she have to be sedated?”

  “No, which is also good news because we can do this without waiting on Doc.”

  “Are you authorized to take care of this?”

  “I have more schooling and skills than most certified technicians, plus the common sense to know it would be good to get this over with quickly. However, if you want to leave this little girl in pain, it’s your call. Or you can help me keep her still while I use tweezers and take out the glass.” All the while that she spoke, she kept her tone soft and soothing, and her expression pleasant to reassure the whimpering dog watching her with trepidation. While it seemed to have a positive effect on Bubbles, Noah remained a hard sell.

  “Fine. I guess. As long as Dr. Sullivan is told about what you’ve done.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Aware that any frustration or annoyance with him would transmit itself to Bubbles, Rylie started humming a lullaby her mother had often sung to her as a child, as she carried the dog with her to the cabinets to get what supplies she needed. Once she had the tweezers, cotton balls and antiseptic, she returned to the table. Finally, she set down the dog, still keeping her arm around her.

  “Casually move over to the other side of the table to face me, and with your hands, brace her hips to keep her still,” she told Noah. “She’ll squirm and kick, so be prepared, but only be firm, not rigid. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  As soon as he complied, she deftly plucked out the splinter.

  Bubbles made a slight yelp and then barked at her.

  “Yeah, fooled you, didn’t I?” Rylie quipped. “But guess what? You’re going to be feeling better and better by the second.” She soothingly stroked Bubble’s tummy, only to connect with Noah’s fingers. Surprised that he hadn’t already released his hold, she looked up at him, only to find that he was staring at her. That close scrutiny and the physical contact created a circuit that sent a strong wave of something hot and heavy through her body. “You...can let go now.”

  He glanced down and appeared surprised himself, but recovered quickly. Taking a step away from the table, he allowed, “You are fast.”

  His raspy admission had her smiling as she carried Bubbles to the sink, where she got a stainless-steel bowl and filled it with warm water. Then she set the dog carefully on the counter and coaxed her to put her foot into the warm water.

  “Let me get the blood off,” she told Bubbles, her tone all reassurance. “We can’t send you home all messy.”

  As soon as she was through, she wrapped the dog in a clinic towel and collected more items. Then she returned to the surgery table to treat th
e wound.

  “Does she need to take antibiotics?” Noah asked.

  “Not unless she comes down with an infection. She’s a healthy girl, so I’m not looking for that to happen. I’ll put Betadine on her—”

  “What’s that?”

  “A great antiseptic. Part iodine. It’s widely used in hospitals. If the wound happens to reopen, you could use Neosporin, too, and save yourself a trip back here.”

  “Ramon thought of hydrogen peroxide.”

  “In a pinch, okay, but that can be harsh on skin.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s it. Tell your mother to try to keep her quiet for a day or two. If she shows signs of prolonged limping, or licks the wound too much, bring her back. Go ahead and give her a low-dose aspirin when you get home. It should help keep down any fever and might help her sleep.”

  “Sounds easy enough. One more question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you have more education than a certified technician?”

  Oops. One thing she would say for Noah Prescott, he listened well. “As I said,” she replied with a shrug, “I’ve been doing this for years.” She all but held her breath, hoping that rather evasive answer satisfied him.

  Although he looked as if he was going to continue probing, he just frowned and asked, “What do I owe you this time?”

  Rylie shook her head. “Forget about it. I was already here, and we didn’t do anything major. Just give your mom my best.” From Noah’s unsatisfied expression, she concluded that it made him uncomfortable to be beholden to her, and that made her grin wickedly at him. “What’s the matter, A.D.A. Prescott—worried that you might have to be nicer to me now? Don’t strain yourself, or you’re the one who might end up needing stitches.”

  He grunted his opinion of that, and yet a hint of amusement lit his brown eyes. “I just knew there was a touch of smart-ass in you.”

  “Shocking,” she replied, her tone playful.

  For the next minute, she worked on gingerly drying off Bubbles’s paw and then applying the Betadine. As expected, Bubbles didn’t think much of that, but the slight stinging eased quickly. “Sorry about the bit of yellow staining, but this way you know it’s keeping her safe from infection.”

  When she was through with that, she got a fresh towel to wrap Bubbles in, explaining to Noah, “Tell your mother that I’ll soak hers and return it the next visit. Don’t worry about this one.” With a nod to indicate her intent, she started for the door.

  As they exited the building and walked to his car, Noah sped up to look her in the face. “I should have said it sooner, but I do appreciate this, especially since it’s after hours.”

  Sweet, Rylie thought. If only that frown didn’t continue to mar an otherwise handsome face. “You’re most welcome.”

  Once Noah opened the BMW’s passenger door for her, she just stood there looking at him. He caught on immediately.

  “Right.” He rounded the sedan and climbed in, not only starting the engine, but also turning the air conditioner on high to cool off the car quickly. “Happy now?”

  “Practically speechless with it.” Rylie eased Bubbles onto the floorboard. Stroking her reassuringly, she said, “You’re going home now. Be a good girl and no more owies.”

  Although she thought she hid it well, she was sorry to see Noah drive away. She knew that intimate moment by the surgery table was the cause...second only to seeing that she’d made him smile. At the same time, it saddened her to hear there were some serious issues going on at Haven Land. The accident was three years past, but life wasn’t running smoothly for Noah, any more than for his mother.

  He sensed you understand that.

  “Oh, stop the mental contortions,” she muttered to herself as she returned to the clinic. “He’s still way out of your league.”

  And probably always would be. At twenty-five, she had lived a busy, full life so far, but had yet to fall in love. Heaven knows, she had opened her heart in invitation. She had plenty of friends and acquaintances, and up to the moment when she put California in her rearview mirror, her social life was as active as anyone her age who enjoyed people and school. However, although she’d had only a handful of relationships, two that she wrongly thought could be the real thing, neither of those men—boys, really—had managed to make her feel what seconds in Noah’s presence did. The encounter this evening proved that, after a mere graze of flesh. How unbelievable was that?

  As she pondered that, she wiped down and disinfected everything with even more gusto. By the time she got MG out of the RV and went to put the kenneled dogs on leashes, she was ready to dismiss the experience as an anomaly.

  “I’m being ridiculous, MG,” she said to her dog. “If I start breaking into song like I’m in a Broadway musical, bite me.”

  The long-legged retriever-mix pranced beside her, happy to be with her again and about to get some exercise. Having full awareness of what the word bite meant, she barked, ending her commentary with a throaty growl.

  Rylie laughed. “I knew I could count on you.”

  * * *

  He would have said something. Even as he went to work on Tuesday, Noah continued to dwell on how yesterday had ended at the clinic. He’d been left...unsatisfied.

  Rylie slammed the car door in your face!

  Okay, he amended, so she’d shut it without giving him a chance. The point was that he would have at least thanked her again, to further prove that he wasn’t the curmudgeon she seemed to believe he was. Why were they rubbing each other the wrong way? Such...friction was new to him. Usually, he had no problem getting along with people. Granted, he tended to be measured, cautious, but then he had his family name to respect and protect, and now his position with the D.A.’s office. But he wasn’t inaccessible, let alone mean-spirited or cruel. He was someone who kept up with fraternity brothers from college and classmates from law school, for pity’s sake!

  Entering the courthouse, he already knew that Vance would be out of the office again. His boss had called while Noah had been driving to town to confirm that he was still feeling poorly, even though he’d been to see his doctor. That meant Noah would be fielding calls and handling several matters on behalf of the D.A.’s office, including having lunch with a civic group that had been scheduled months ago. That would be no problem, since he had made similar presentations before. This was a great opportunity to make more residents of the area aware of who he was.

  Even with all that on his plate, Rylie’s face appeared in his mind. Noah all but groaned in frustration.

  It’s because you touched her.

  The contact had been clinical, inevitable due to the need to keep the dog still. There was no reason for him to read something sensual into the experience, but tell that to his body. It had responded as though he’d walked face-first into a furnace, and he’d remained thrown off balance long into the night, until he’d indulged in a second shower for relief. Thank goodness his mother’s car was back in good shape, and Ramon would take over these clinic trips again. Clearly, he needed to protect himself from his own imagination.

  After starting the coffee machine, Noah went to his desk with his collection of newspapers that were stacked daily on the hallway bench outside the office door. But as he sat down, the computer’s dark monitor screen was what captured and kept his attention. It stared back at him in bold daring, a portal to...what?

  Your best opportunity to find answers. Go ahead. You know you want to.

  He checked his watch. The empty office would stay quiet like this for another half hour at most. Temptation won.

  Noah booted up the machine. Just one more search, he told himself. He didn’t want to dream about her again tonight. Yes, she was cute, yes, she was a new experience to him, but was it sane to become obsessed with a woman who lived in an RV!

 
As soon as that censorious thought formed in his mind, he felt shame, only to get defensive. Experience had taught him that few people had the Teflon skins attributed to some Washington, D.C., politicians that they could survive scandal or the weight of relentless gossip. If he was going to run for office, the shortest distance to that goal was to choose your society with circumspection. He needed some information, any excuse to get Rylie Quinn out of his head.

  Try the social networks.

  Although he grimaced at the thought of venturing there, Noah knew as friendly as Rylie was, she probably lived every free moment on Facebook and Twitter. It didn’t take but seconds before he logged in to his own account—a tedious requirement for him per office policy to make the public feel connected—and typed her name in the search box. Her page came up within seconds.

  There was no ignoring the jump in his pulse as he clicked through her photo album, seeing that at her high-school graduation, she’d had waist-length hair. His next thought was that she had a ton of friends, including guys still carrying a crush, and a very proud family, he thought after seeing her parents gaze at her in each photo with love and adoration. Noah would never do the profiles or answer the idiotic questions they asked, but Rylie didn’t seem to have a problem with them. Some, anyway. Actually, she had a contagious sense of humor, he thought, as he caught himself smiling, and then chuckling a few times. At other times, he was left transfixed.

  She’d thought about joining Cirque du Soleil before heading for college to become a veterinarian. Being an athlete and cheerleader in high school explained why. In college, she’d continued with the cheerleading and had been the highflier. Noah suspected that’s also what came with being the smallest in the group. Having witnessed her questionable balance, though, he wondered if she’d spent more time on crutches and in slings than on the practice floor.

  She loved potatoes and gravy, wildflowers, pears in rum sauce, and confessed to craving steak too much to become a vegetarian. Nevertheless, she vowed she would jump at any chance to be on someone’s fishing boat, and found lightning both terrifying and hypnotic.