Chapter Thirty
“So, what now?” I ask as the otter stares up at us, still wary. I want it to be as happy and safe as I feel.
“Well, for starters, tonight we don’t have to lie to my family. I guess it’s a good thing they like you. They’re going to be shocked when you’re still around at Christmas.”
“Is it too late to get in on the betting?”
He laughs before he stops. “I mean, if you want to be,” he says, suddenly shy, and he’s never been cuter. I dust my lips against his so he knows it’s a plan.
“What about Jasmine?”
He scrunches his bonnie face. “She’s not happy with either of us.” He takes a deep breath. “The fact that you’ve become an influencer because of this really sets her off.”
“The dress she sent me for the gala? It was intentionally ugly. And I mean horror-show ugly. Ask Andrew if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you.”
I slip my arm through his. “What if she tells?”
Luca sighs. “I think I’ve convinced her that it wouldn’t be a great look for her. Everyone expects me to be bad. And it makes her look like such a jerk to Rowdy’s fans after she doubled down for him. Her ego is bruised, but she cares more about being the Queen of Pop than she does about any guy. This way, no one has to know. She’ll move on to the next sap, and it will look like she tried to make it work with Rowdy and supported him through rehab.”
He kisses my temple. “If she does go public, I’ll do everything I can to protect you, Stor, but she could make both our lives pretty miserable if she wants to.”
“She was already making my life miserable. I couldn’t stand seeing you making excuses for her.”
“My priorities were completely messed up. I was so stuck in living some fake life. Meanwhile, everything I thought was fake is the only part that’s real. I don’t know how you don’t hate me.”
“It’s your title,” I say, and smile as the vibration of his laugh rumbles through me.
A small motorboat pulls into the cove.
“There’s Ramsey.”
The boat pulls up as far as it can, and a girl of about fifteen and a man jump off, carrying supplies as they wade to shore. Luca runs down and takes the things the girl is carrying.
“Story, this is Ramsey MacCloud and his daughter, Erin. This is Story Herriot.”
“Oh, I was hoping we’d get to meet you,” Erin says, her blue eyes lit up. Her wavy hair is the color of flames.
“Haud yer wheesht,” Ramsey says to her, but he seems more embarrassed than angry.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I know I’m a local curiosity. How do youdo?”
We shake hands, and Ramsey turns to the young otter. “Aye, probably a year old. Healthy, though, before the injury. It’s a nice weight, good coat, bright eyes.” He kneels and grabs some latex gloves from a backpack. The otter makes a hissing noise as he touches its flank. He takes out long, protective gloves and hands them to Luca. “Hold it, will you?”
Luca holds the otter while Ramsey triages and Erin assists, handing him antiseptic bandages to wipe the wound clean enough to see it. “Looks like a little girl,” Ramsey says. “I’m just going to wrap the wound for now and take her back to the station and we’ll anesthetize and stitch her there.”
“What are her chances?” Luca asks.
“This is fresh. Maybe she got too close to one of the bigger vessels and was struck. But a good clean-out, some stitches and antibiotics, and she should make a full recovery. I don’t see any ligament or bone damage. But she’s had a close call.”
“Thanks, Ramsey.”
“We could use another vet around here. You should go to school for it,” Ramsey says.
I smile at Luca.
“I’m actually starting to think on it.” He glances at me like it’s a kiss.
“Good, good.”
Luca goes to Ramsey’s boat and retrieves a crate. Then they wrap the otter in a giant towel and put her into the crate and carry her through the water. Erin and I follow with the supplies. “Good luck, little one,” I tell the otter as Luca and Ramsey hoist the crate onto the boat. Ramsey and Erin have pulled out of the cove by the time Luca and I are ready to start back. He puts me at the wheel and wraps his arms around me and kisses me.
“So, are you ready to go to a party? There’ll be fireworks.”
I laugh as we steer for the headwinds. “Luca Kinnaird, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”