by Lori Foster
She grinned. Did he realize he’d named the crestie—often a first step to adopting a pet? “We have him at the end, several pens away from the other dogs, until he gets acclimated.” Claire led the way to their newest resident. “He’s a little skittish.”
The Chinese crested hairless dog was washed, groomed, and fed, appearing strikingly different from the street-worn stray.
Adam gaped. “This can’t be the same dog. I mean, he looks like my niece’s favorite toy, a little fairy pony.”
Claire chuckled, his surprised appreciation warming her. “The hairless cresties do look like they have manes and tails.”
She knelt down to greet the dog, who cautiously came forward to sniff her fingers. With obvious effort, Adam sat yoga-style beside her. Was his football injury still painful? Claire waited, but he didn’t extend his hand toward the crestie.
“Would you like to hold him?” She reached for the spring lock and opened the pen’s door without waiting for an answer. “He hasn’t bitten anyone since arriving here.”
“I wouldn’t want to scare him—”
“You’ll do fine.” She carefully picked up the crestie. “Make a cradle with your palms . . . that’s it.” She placed the dog in his hands, her heart squeezing at Adam’s anxious gentleness.
“Hey, Buddy,” he crooned. The dog’s ears twitched, and it settled into the nest formed by Adam’s hands and chest.
The contrast between the big ex-jock and the tiny dog was amusing, but Claire’s thoughts strayed to the time when Adam had held her with the same care. She’d always felt cherished and protected in his arms. That’s why it had been so devastating when he’d crushed her heart.
No. She wouldn’t dwell on that argument and the awful months afterward. What mattered now was helping Adam bond with Buddy. Claire cleared her throat. “So far I haven’t found any reports of a missing crestie. But I’ll keep checking.”
“He’s about as big as a football and not much heavier.” Adam stroked his fingers along the dog’s hairless side. “He looks like he has freckles.”
“His pink skin has some liver spots.” She petted the dog’s back, not jerking away today when she brushed against Adam’s warm hand. “Cresties can be high maintenance. You need to protect their skin with sunscreen and dress them in sweaters in the winter. They can also develop certain medical problems, but Buddy’s as strong as, well, a tiny ox.”
Lucia, her assistant, poked her head into the canine area. “Muffin’s in second-stage labor. I have her in Room Three.”
Claire stood. “I’ll be right there.” Her assistant left, and she glanced at Adam, amazed at her reluctance to leave him. “Duty calls. But you can visit with Buddy as long as you like.”
“Can I come with you?” he asked, his blue eyes searching hers. “Would it bother the dog if I was there for the birth?”
She considered him, the man she’d unconsciously compared to every date she’d had since college. Given their past, she should be avoiding him like rabies. But, God help her, she still wanted to spend time with him. “Sure, but it’ll be a little messy.”
“After some of the football injuries I’ve seen and experienced, I can handle messy.” Adam carefully set Buddy in his pen and promised the dog he’d be back. Then, with a grimace of pain, he stood up and followed her out.
CHAPTER FIVE
As they entered Room Three, the whine of a distressed animal tore at Adam’s heart. Could he handle seeing it suffer? On a stainless-steel table against the back wall, a dog shifted restlessly on a padded bed. Its soft brown eyes tracked them.
Claire nodded to her coworker, a Hispanic woman who was petting the dog. “Lucia, meet Adam.” Claire walked to the room’s sink and turned on the water. She continued as she aggressively scrubbed her hands. “He’s the one who rescued the crestie.”
Rescued? Adam started to protest. All he’d done was drive Buddy a few blocks to the shelter.
“Hi.” Lucia held up her latex-gloved hands. “Sorry, but I can’t shake hands right now.”
“Lucia’s a vet assistant and a godsend here.” Claire toweled dry, then powdered her hands before pulling on latex gloves. Each action was confident and economical. Then, she gestured Adam to a nearby chair. “You can sit there, and I’ll explain what we’re doing . . . that is, if you’re interested.”
The last was said hesitantly. Adam frowned. Did she think he’d be bored because he’d been so indifferent toward her career choice during college? “I’m very interested,” he assured her, as he sat on the uncomfortable chair. “I like watching you work.”
Pleasure lit her face, but Claire turned away as if embarrassed by her reaction. Instead of replying, she joined her assistant at the table and stroked the dog’s brown-and-white fur. “Hi, Muffin. I hear you’re ready to be a momma.”
The long-haired dog shuddered, then licked Claire’s hand.
“Muffin’s a springer spaniel.” Claire spoke quietly as she examined the dog. “And the suspected boyfriend is a black lab. Her diplomat-owners were reassigned and had to leave her behind. They trust me to find a good home for her and her pups.”
The dog whined louder, and Claire commiserated. “I know, sweetie. Having babies is no fun.” She touched her stethoscope to Muffin’s abdomen, and Lucia picked up the commentary.
“This padded bed”—the assistant touched its raised sides—“is a disposable whelping box. It gives the dog a soft nest for birthing. We put a heating pad underneath to warm it.”
“I think the first mini-Muffin is about to make an appearance,” Claire announced in a hushed voice.
Fascinated, Adam watched the dog pant and strain, wishing there was something he could do to help. But this was Claire’s domain. She and Lucia stood nearby, ready to step in if Muffin required it. After a long ten minutes, the dog expelled a small sack that looked more like a water balloon than a puppy.
“She should help her baby by breaking the membrane and licking the pup clean,” Claire explained. “But she’s a first-time mom, so we’re here in case she needs our help. We don’t want the puppy to suffocate.”
His stomach clenched, as they waited. Muffin finally nuzzled the puppy and—instinct kicking in—did what was necessary. Claire and Lucia exchanged delighted smiles as the wet puppy wriggled and mewed under its mother’s tongue.
Adam grinned, too, as the black puppy suckled its mother’s milk. “I didn’t know they nursed so soon after birth.”
“The perritos, uh, puppies,” Lucia translated, “need their madre’s warmth, as much as the milk.”
The next hour-and-a-half proved a real eye-opener for Adam as three more puppies were born. Each was a tiny miracle, and he was impressed, then humbled by Claire’s skill and knowledge.
He learned about placentas and afterbirth, the messy business she’d warned about. He discovered puppies could enter the world safely head-first or tail-first. And he got an education in genetics, as Lucia explained why three of the four puppies were black and one was brown-and-white like its mom. And through it all, he admired Claire, moved by her compassion.
What would she be doing today if she’d given in to his college ultimatum? Would she have gone to veterinarian school in San Francisco or given up her dream?
His reverie was interrupted when Claire announced, “Here comes the last puppy.”
Lucia stroked the dog’s heaving side, as the spaniel whimpered. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Muffin shuddered and strained, but nothing happened. The women exchanged worried glances, and Adam could tell something was different this time. Despite the room’s comfortable temperature, he broke out in a sweat. At last, another puppy sack appeared, but it didn’t slide free of the dog’s body as the others had.
“It’s lodged in the birth canal.” Claire stepped closer, murmuring softly to the spaniel. The concern in her voice as much as her words had Adam anxiously leaning forward.
He clenched his jaw to keep from asking questions, while Claire and her assistant fought
to save the puppy’s life. Lucia slipped into Spanish, Adam understanding many of her words as she calmed Muffin. Claire, her eyes determined and her movements gentle, finally freed the black puppy. And with Muffin’s help, it was soon nursing with its siblings.
Claire met Adam’s gaze, and a rush of joy and relief seemed to arc between them. There was triumph in her expression and pride, and he knew he’d never forget this afternoon. How many animals had she helped over the years? How many had she saved, while he’d been throwing a ball around a football field?
“That was amazing,” he managed to say, wishing he had the right to hug her close. You’re amazing.
“Thanks.” Claire grinned. “Given the size of those puppies, the black lab daddy must be a bruiser. And he didn’t even bother to drop by for their births,” she joked.
Adam laughed with the women, and the tension in the room lightened. It’d been an eye-opening and sometimes heart-stopping afternoon. But mother and babies were healthy, thanks to Claire and Lucia. If he’d had a bottle of champagne handy, he’d have toasted Muffin and her human helpers.
Heck, if he thought Claire would agree, he’d treat her to dinner to celebrate. And then he’d do his damnedest to convince her to give him a second chance. He wanted her back in his life.
She gestured to the whelping bed. “We have some cleanup and paperwork to complete before we’re really done here. You can head back to the runs, if you want, to visit with Buddy.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.” Adam glanced at his watch so she wouldn’t read his thoughts. For all he knew, she was dating someone seriously . . . planning a future with another man. No. His gut twisted, and he shoved the disturbing images away.
Adam walked to the door, then faced the woman he knew now he’d never stopped loving. She deserved to hear what had been on his mind all afternoon.
“Claire . . .” Adam willed her to understand how bone-deep sorry he was for everything he’d said and done. “You made the right decision ten years ago.”
CHAPTER SIX
You made the right decision ten years ago.
It was Friday, a week and a half since Adam had said those words, and the memory of that moment still haunted Claire. The look in his eyes and the regret in his voice had destroyed most of the anger she’d hoarded over his long-ago ultimatum. That simple sentence had been both a vindication of her choice and an apology for the pain he’d caused her.
Claire forced her gaze from the shelter’s front door to her clipboard. Adam visited Buddy about this time every afternoon, always stopping by her office to exchange a few words. Like some lovesick girl, she’d let it become the highlight of her day.
Instead of standing in her waiting room watching for Adam, Claire needed to finish her Wish List update for Rescue Me’s website. Donations often came from animal-lovers who went on-line to check the shelter’s required items. Her volunteer Webmistress needed the update by this evening. Of course, with Adam arriving daily with donations, the Wish List was pretty short this month.
As if her intern had read her mind, Patty asked, “What do you think he’ll bring you today?”
Claire shrugged. “It’d be hard to top the trunkload of kitty litter he delivered yesterday.”
Patty grinned. “You know, he’s totally crushing on you.”
A blush warmed her cheeks, even as Claire denied the idea. “We’re just old friends from college.”
“You don’t see how he watches you when you’re not looking.”
Claire fought a swell of hope. She’d be a fool to fall back into a relationship with Adam. Wouldn’t she?
The man who’d crowded her thoughts for days walked through the door, carrying two large bags. “Just some chew toys and things,” Adam explained. He handed them to Patty, who shot Claire an “I’m right; go for it” look as she left with the bags.
Claire’s hands clenched on the clipboard. Was Adam playing Santa because he enjoyed spending time with her? Or was he just here for the crestie? Well, she was about to find out.
“Buddy’s strong and healthy,” she began, “and since there’s no reports of missing cresties, he can be adopted.”
Dismay, then determination firmed Adam’s expression. “I want Buddy. I can take him, right?”
Claire nodded, her throat closing on a surge of emotions. The dog would live the life of Reilly with Adam, but would she ever see them again? Setting down her clipboard, she managed a few words. “We’ll loan you a carrier to get Buddy home.”
“Okay.” Adam stepped closer, his familiar scent muddling her brain. “But I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid. I could probably use some pointers on his care and feeding.”
Was he looking for an excuse to get together? She cleared her throat. “We, uh, send printed directions along with pets.”
“Oh.” He rocked back on his heels, looked at the floor, then met her gaze. “Have dinner with me.”
Claire’s heart cheered, but her super-developed self-preservation instinct reared its unwelcome head. “Well . . .”
Adam took her hand, his touch tripping her pulse. “You’ve never been to my restaurant, and I’d like to show it to you. And . . .” He seemed to be mentally searching for a good argument. “And I’ve been thinking I could hold a fund-raiser at Nuclear Fusion for your shelter.” He smiled, but there was a surprising vulnerability in his eyes. “We can plan it over dinner.”
Damn his sexy hide for knowing the way to her heart.
Before she could answer, Adam continued, “I’ll pick you up at six on Sunday, okay?”
Sunday. Was she crazy? What was she getting into? And what would she wear? Claire nodded, anticipation defeating caution.
At five till six, Adam parked his vintage Mustang in front of a grand old brick house several residential blocks away from the shelter. The place had been subdivided into condos, Claire had explained, and hers was on the second floor.
He turned off the ignition and pocketed the keys before wiping his damp palms on his black slacks. Geez, he hadn’t been this nervous since his last Super Bowl. But tonight could be his only shot at a second chance with Claire.
Adam unfolded himself from the seat, stood next to the Mustang, and spotted Claire on the home’s stone porch. In some dim recess of his brain, he registered that she was talking with a woman holding a canine furball. But his focus was on Claire.
The sun glinted off her chestnut hair, softly haloing her face. Appropriate. Adam smiled. She was an angel to her four-legged patients. His gaze drifted lower, over her coppery, clingy dress, and he forgot to breathe. Two weeks of fantasizing about the body under her boxy scrubs hadn’t prepared him for the mouth-watering reality and her long, lean legs. . . .
Claire turned and waved to him, before hurrying down the steps. He circled the car and opened the passenger door for her.
She looked inside. “Adam, is this your old Mustang?”
The delight on her face calmed his jitters. “I restored it. There were too many good memories in this car to sell it.” Memories of you. And he’d love to make new ones, but he kept that thought to himself as she got into the car. He just hoped everything was ready at the restaurant. It had to be perfect.
Claire congratulated herself on making small talk the fifteen minutes it took to drive to Nuclear Fusion. Quite an accomplishment when her brain was filled with hot flashbacks of making love with Adam in this car. She clutched her purse in her lap to keep from reaching for his hand like the good old days.
He pulled to the curb in front of the restaurant, tossing his keys to a kid at a valet stand. Then Adam opened the door to Nuclear Fusion, and she entered a world of cool hues and sweeping lines. The walls were curved panels of light, pulsing from blue to turquoise to green. Waves of chrome reflected the living colors and divided the room into cozy booths. Everything, including the sumptuous upholstery and carpet, contributed to the illusion of a futuristic undersea kingdom.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “A space-age Atlantis.”
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br /> Adam let out a breath. “I hoped you’d like it.” Smiling, he rested a hand on her back—the simple gesture giving Claire gooseflesh—and guided her through the empty dining room. “I reserved my favorite spot for us.” He stopped by an oval table backed by a curved, intimate booth for two. Nestled in a private alcove, it was shielded from other tables by a huge aquarium filled with a rainbow of darting fish.
She slid onto the booth’s soft cushions. When he joined her in the snug space, his leg brushed hers and his scent, so tempting and familiar, filled her senses. Claire scrambled for something to say. “Uh, it looks like we’re the first customers.”
“Actually”—he draped her aqua cloth napkin over her lap—“we’re the only customers. Nuclear Fusion is closed on Sundays.”
Claire’s mouth gaped open like a fish in the nearby tank.
A waiter approached with menus, and Adam introduced him as Sergio. Dazed, Claire studied the list of international dishes, listening to their suggestions before choosing a Thai appetizer and a shrimp pasta entrée. Adam ordered a mix of Chinese dim sum and Spanish tapas, a Kobe beef entrée, and a bottle of California chardonnay before outlining his idea for a shelter fund-raiser.
Throughout the meal, she tried to pay attention, but everything conspired to make her pulse leap and her body ache. He filled the booth, so broad and muscular, practically cuddling against her. If his arm or knee wasn’t grazing hers, he was feeding her a bite of his dinner or skimming a crumb off her lower lip. Each touch ratch eted up the sensual tension until she wanted to pull his mouth to hers and kiss him into tomorrow.
When they’d finished and Sergio had cleared the table, Adam shifted to face her, suddenly serious. “There’s something I need to know, and it’s not about the fund-raiser, which I’m hosting, no matter what.” He took her hand, his palm warm and slightly callused. “Can you forgive me for what I said after graduation? I was arrogant, stupid, and selfish, a jerk, a fool, an idiot, a real bastard.” He grimaced. “You can help me out here any time.”