Never Expected You

by Jody Holford

  “Doctor Mason is our newest vet and can fit you in, but in the future, unless it’s an emergency, you’ll need to make an appointment.”

  Colton looked back and forth between Stella and him. When he locked eyes with Zach, there may have been recognition, but Zach didn’t wait long enough to find out. His heart was going to beat out of his damn chest. Sweat dotted the back of his neck. Fuck. He hadn’t suffered a panic attack for months. He’d all but stopped having nightmares of being overseas. Why now? Air whooshed out of his lungs and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

  His stomach pitched, and he felt like once again, he was back in high school, helpless. Or worse, stuck in a fucking deep, dark trench with no plan of escape. “Actually, Doctor Lane will have to help you. I have an offsite patient.”

  Stella stared at him, her jaw dropping. She knew he was full of it, but thankfully didn’t call him on it. You’re a professional. What the hell is wrong with you?

  Looking at Colton, then Stella, he muttered, “Sorry.”

  He couldn’t…he just couldn’t close himself into a room with this man. Cat or no cat.

  Again, Colton looked at him, and Zach could see the subtle signs of recognition—like he couldn’t quite place him.

  Then the guy pointed at him, shaking his finger as he struggled to place Zach. His face showed the “aha” moment and he went back to petting the cat. “We went to high school together.” The cat let out a rumbling purr, looking quite content.

  “We did.”

  More recognition dawned. Zach watched it shadow the man’s eyes like a shade being pulled down. “You were best friends with Travis.”

  Anger burned in his chest. He stepped forward, pointed. “Don’t you say his name.”

  “Zach!” Stella stood in front of him, like at five foot nothing she could be a shield or a barrier between the two men. Yeah right. He could fucking bench press her in his sleep.

  Forcing air in and out of his lungs, Zach dropped his hands and stepped back.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  His heartbeat slowed, settling into a normal pace. It was a good question. What was going on? Nothing. It was just a moment. It doesn’t define you.

  Colton stared at Zach, understanding clear in his eyes. While Stella stammered awkward apologies, the guy just nodded. At least he had the decency to look uncomfortable. The cat made a low mewling sound and Zach’s attention sharpened on it.

  “I…uh, that was a long time ago. I was kind of a dick back then. I’m really sorry about your friend,” Colton said.

  He wanted to stay mad. He wanted to punch the guy. But Colton looked sincere. He looked genuinely sorry. Zach had been so caught on thinking about how Travis’s death had changed him, he hadn’t given any thought to how it had changed the lives of others. Colton continued to stare at him, and the anger in his chest dissipated until it was more regret than fury. Colton shifted, his eyes dropping to his cat and then moving to Stella. “I guess I’ll make an appointment. With you, Dr. Lane, if that’s alright?”

  Stella stepped forward, but continued to look at Zach, confusion and irritation creasing her forehead. “No, please. Come in. I have a few moments right now. Dexter, why don’t you and Doctor Mason go check on C.C. before his off-sight appointment?”

  It was phrased as a question, but Zach heard the steel in her tone. Turning abruptly, he walked through the back hallway and straight out the door, letting it smack against the frame. A moment later, the screen door creaked, and Dexter followed him.

  “Sorry about that. Not my most professional moment,” Zach said. He was man enough to know he should set a better example.

  “No worries. I hated high school, too. Couldn’t wait to get out. Thought everything would be different when I did. Sometimes things don’t change.”

  Zach shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to think of the right thing to say to the young man looking at him. This was the same spot where he’d received advice from Stella’s dad. At the time, he thought life would never get better. It did, but only because Zach had made the decision to turn the tides in his direction.

  “They can. Change, I mean. You just have to decide what it is you want to be different and make it happen,” Zach said quietly.

  Dexter leaned on the door frame, pulling his glasses off to clean them on a cloth he pulled from the pocket of his white, three-quarter-length coat. “Sure. That sounds easy.”

  He waited until Dexter put his glasses back on. “No. I didn’t say it was easy. But change doesn’t happen unless you want it.”

  Mouth twitching, his lips moving side to side, and then Dexter sighed. “Just because you change doesn’t mean the people around you will.”

  Zach couldn’t argue that point. He untucked his hands and stood taller. “No. But the way they affect you will. You’re in charge of that.” Like you were just now?

  Dexter nodded slowly, and Zach realized he’d given up that control in front of Colton. He’d let the mere presence of a former jock knock out years of training, forgiving, and moving forward. The worst part was Colton hadn’t been a jerk just now. Zach was. And what the hell did that say about him?

  Not wanting to think about it right now—or examine his feelings too closely—Zach gave Dexter a pat on the back and went down the porch steps.

  “Let’s go say hi to the horse.” He’d be apologizing to Stella later, no doubt.

  He wasn’t looking forward to the lecture he was sure to get from her on proper patient etiquette, but even that would be better than facing the fact that he hadn’t moved on nearly as much as he’d hoped. Saying and doing were two different things, and clearly, he had some work left to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zach left before Stella could talk to him about his behavior. For someone with so much confidence, it was unsettling to see him frozen in the moment. Uncertain. It didn’t fit with the impression she had of him. Of how he’s let you see him. Like her, she knew he harbored some issues that he wasn’t overly eager to share, but this was the first time he’d worn that. She’d been irritated with her own response. Instead of being focused only on presenting a professional front, she’d been…worried. She’d wanted to know why he looked upset and more than that, she’d wanted to soothe him. Men like Zach don’t want to be soothed. Part of her wanted to tell Colton to leave if he made Zach that uncomfortable. The other part of her—the one who had spent the last year proving to this town she could fill her dad’s shoes—couldn’t tolerate unprofessionalism. Their names were linked now and whether they were the only vet in town or not, word of mouth mattered.

  Switching off the light in the exam room, she headed toward the back of the clinic to check on the animals one more time. The operating room was small and efficient, but today, as she’d been stitching up a bunny who’d hopped onto broken glass, she’d felt more aware of the room’s shortcomings. She stopped outside the sterile room and looked in.

  The lighting over the operating table needed to be replaced and an ultrasound machine really would be nice. It’s worked just fine for a long time. Her father had been old school, not caring for new technology, regardless of how much easier it could make his job. Or, he couldn’t afford it and didn’t want to tell you. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she was clearing the avalanche of debt one small payment at a time. There were nights she went to bed without worrying at all. When she reached the back room, Dexter was petting the rabbit inside one of the cages.

  “Hey. You’re still here. I thought you’d gone,” Stella said, coming over to look at the grey fluff ball. “Hey. How you doing, pal?”

  “He’s still quite lethargic,” Dexter said, stepping to the side so Stella could pet the rabbit.

  “It’s normal after surgery. You did well in there. The stitches look good.”

  “I was grateful my hands didn’t shake,” he said. He had a quiet voice and personality, which the animals responded to.

  Stella glanced at him, remembering that w
hen she’d been his age, she’d fallen for her mentor. God, what an idiot she’d been. How about what an ass Steven was? A fantastic vet, he gave her special attention, and she’d been easily wowed and all too grateful. Stop. The past is the past. It brought you here. And where is that exactly?

  “You get in the zone, focused on doing whatever needs to be done.” She shut the cage and locked it. The bunny was their only guest this evening.

  “Reading about it and doing it are completely different.”

  Stella laughed, and they walked out into the mini break area. “That’s true of most things. Listen, about today, with Zach—”

  “I think he felt really bad,” Dexter interrupted, then realized he’d cut her off and looked down at the floor. “Sorry.”

  She waited until he looked up again, curious that the young man had so easily sided with Zach. Why? He’s got people skills in spades and Dexter looks at him the way you did Steven. Still, even professionals made mistakes and acknowledging them was the only way to address them.

  “I’m sure he did. He let emotion get in the way of professionalism.” And then he hightailed it out of here before facing the music. That was another interesting reaction. Colton had obviously brought up memories Zach didn’t want coming back.

  “It has to remain about the patient. And only the patient,” Dexter said, like he was quoting a textbook. A little piece of her wondered how she’d feel if Lydia walked into the clinic, but she told herself she’d do exactly what needed to be done, with the detachment necessary. And want to claw her eyes out the entire time. But Dexter didn’t need to know that.

  “That’s right. Anyway, it’s been a long day. You should head home. Are you getting a chance to see any of Brockton?”

  Dexter grabbed his light jacket and backpack off a chair, putting them on. “My uncle took me to The Yacht for dinner last night. The food was awesome. I had lobster bisque and had to stop myself from licking the bowl clean.”

  Stella laughed. “That’s understandable. That place is one of the best in the Point. My friend’s brother is the head chef there. He often has dinner parties to try out his new dishes. He actually cooked for us last night.”

  The student’s jaw dropped. “That must be horrible.”

  Pleased with the way he’d lost some of his shyness, she nodded. “Yup. Terrible. All that delicious food he makes us try. His husband is a chef, too, works at The Vista on the other side of town. Different style of food and ambiance, but definitely worth checking out.”

  “Are they both huge?”

  Stella’s brows snapped together, and she thought about both men—tall and equally good looking, one with dark hair and a Clark Gable sort of vibe and the other with fairer hair and bright blue eyes that matched Megan’s. “Not at all. Why?”

  “If I could cook that well and someone else in my house did, too, all I’d do is eat.”

  Laughing, she followed him out of the break room, down the hall, and to the reception area. “No. They stay in good shape and give the rest of us reason to work out.”

  She walked him out, locking up behind them. As he got on his bike, Stella stood on the walkway, the sound of banging ringing faintly in her ears. She waved when Dexter did, glad that he was working out so well. Worry over sharing her space, her dad’s space, and giving up control, even temporarily, had stopped her from realizing how helpful so many extra hands would be to her own schedule. The buzz of adrenaline she rode most days, trying to get from one thing to another, had dulled and left a calmness in its place.

  Stella frowned when the banging continued. The closest neighbor was a good two miles away. Turning, she took the gravel path that led around the clinic. She spotted Zach’s truck in the driveway. At least he was home. Her heart dipped like an elevator dropping. This is not his home. It’s temporary. The living situation, at least, was supposed to be.

  Carrying on down the walkway, she spotted him near the barn, wielding a hammer with a toolbelt wrapped around his middle. She stopped in her tracks. Huh. Apparently, I find toolbelts sexy. To be fair to her neglected libido, Zach Mason could make anything look sexy. She didn’t have to act on anything to admit that. There hadn’t been a night since their kiss that she didn’t relive it, whether she wanted to or not.

  She made her way over and was beside him before he noticed her. Sweat dampened small patches of his shirt and her skin tingled, thinking about other ways to get sweaty. Stop it. Think about something else.

  “Doc.” His tone was clipped, snapping Stella out of her inappropriate daydreaming.

  Was he mad at her? He pulled a nail from the pocket of the belt and set it against the fencing, angling it so it went into the post when he hit it.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He paused, mid swing. “Guess I don’t have to ask why you haven’t fixed this, if you don’t know. The fence is falling apart. If we’re going to offer boarding to other horses, who may or may not be as tame as C.C., we might want to ensure we don’t lose them.”

  She frowned at him. “I know what you’re doing. I meant, why are you doing it? And why right now? Why did you leave earlier without saying anything?”

  He sighed, resumed hammering the nail, pounding it in, before he set the hammer down and turned to her. “I’m fixing the fence because it needs to be done. Now because I had the time and sometimes it feels good to pound the hell out of something. I didn’t realize we were checking in and out with each other.”

  Wherever he’d gone, it hadn’t helped him shake his mood off. “What did Colton do to you?”

  His body went rigid, like it had earlier today. He picked up the hammer. “Nothing. I’m sorry about that. I let personal shit get in the way, and I know that can’t happen.”

  Interesting. The tough vet with the great smile, the confidence of ten politicians, and a swagger that would make Chris Pine swoon, didn’t want to share his secrets. Yet, he’d made it clear he’d be all too happy to know hers. Since he’d arrived, he steadily chipped away at her shields and now, looking at him, the tension so clear in his body, she wanted to do the same. She didn’t want him to be so upset. So alone.

  Stella reached out, put her hand on his arm. He froze but didn’t look at her. “Zach.”

  Still nothing. She stepped closer, heard C.C. neigh in the stables. “Look at me.”

  He set the hammer down again and did as she asked. “It’s water under the bridge, Doc. I overreacted. It was a minute. It won’t happen again. Let it go.”

  Not thinking, she took another step. He had no visible marks—no external injuries—but she saw the hurt written all over him. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  Zach’s mouth flatlined, his jaw going tight. She thought of what she’d want—what she’d craved so many nights as she stared out of the same windows her father had and acted without regret. She already knew Zach well enough to know he’d do the same for her. Stepping right into him, she wrapped her arms around his middle and held hard. It took a second, but his arms came around her and he hugged her back. The crickets sang as Stella closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Zach’s warmth. It seeped into her bones where a chill had set in—long ago—and thawed some of the brittleness inside her body and heart.

  He pulled back too soon. “Thanks for the hug, Doc. But I’m fine.”

  She groaned in frustration. “You’re stubborn as hell.”

  Arching a brow, he picked up the hammer and moved down the fence. He put his hand on the next post and moved it back and forth. “These need to be reinforced more than I’m doing now. You get a heavy wind and they’ll be down. But for now, get over here and hold this.”

  Doing as he asked, since it benefited her, she pushed her hands against the post while he secured it with another long nail.

  He glanced up. “You want to trade secrets, you go first.”

  She flashed him a quick grin. “I have no secrets.”

  “Right.” He pounded the nail, the vibration going right through her.


  They moved down to the next post. She should grab those planters she’d been thinking about. This had been her home growing up, but since she’d returned, it hadn’t felt like it. Until Zach.

  “I miss my dad. I was thinking of planting some flowers, grabbing some big planters like Taylor has at her inn. But part of me feels like if I do that, if I put my own mark on this place, it’s like saying he’s gone.” The words came out rough and unexpected. Somehow, saying this to him was easier than she’d thought. Maybe because they were still strangers in so many respects. He wouldn’t coddle the way Megan would and it wouldn’t take away from more important things the way it would if she’d confided in Taylor.

  Zach stopped and did her a favor by not looking as if he felt sorry for her. Instead, he nodded and held her gaze. “He is gone, Doc. Making this place a home honors him. It doesn’t erase him.”

  Stella bit her lip, the tears ready to fall. When he put it like that, it seemed silly she hadn’t tried to do that already. She did not want to cry. She was happy. For the first time in so long, she was happy. Doesn’t mean you can’t cry or have, as Zach would call it, a moment. It doesn’t mean you have to be okay every damn time. When he put the hammer down, she started to back away, but he caught her wrist.

  “Nuh-uh, don’t back away. Come here. You hugged me when I acted human. Your turn.”

  She sniffled through a half laugh and let him pull her in, trying to ignore how good it felt. We could be friends. Friends hug.

  He rubbed her back, nearly obliterating her walls. “Colton and another kid waited for me once, down on Main Street. I delivered newspapers and did odd jobs because sometimes it was the difference between eating and not. They taunted me, took all the newspapers and trashed them. I egged them on, hoping they’d settle for beating the shit out of me instead of taking away money I needed. But they knew what they were doing. They shredded everything. I had to pay for them out of my paycheck.”