Chapter Seven #2
“As fun as that sounds, you’re just not my type. But you’re welcome to watch anytime. I love putting on a good show.”
“Jesus Christ. That’s about enough togetherness for one fucking day, are we fuckin’ done here, Chaos?” I say, standing and ready to bolt. There’s only one thing on my mind, and I’ve gotta make a stop before I get to her.
Rolling up to Bloomfield Animal Haven, I’m eager to see her, but nervous as fuck she’ll think I’m stalking her.
Have I consumed her thoughts the way she has mine?
Fuck, I hope she’s happy to see me. I’d do just about anything to see her smile.
To be the reason she’s smiling. I grab the bakery bag from Daily Rise and the two to-go mugs of caffeine from my passenger seat and head toward the building.
Once I’m inside, it’s not what I would have expected a shelter in a swanky town to look like.
It’s clear they have money coming in, but not anything overly extravagant or opulent.
I donate almost my entire paycheck from work to the Amberwood shelter, but it doesn’t go far.
I’d give everything I have to help support all the good they’re doing there.
Hell, anywhere. These animals deserve the same love and attention that ones with families do.
Wish the world wasn’t so full of selfish assholes, and maybe we wouldn’t have such an abundance of them without loving homes.
I look around the space, taking in the decor and the warmth of the lobby. Then I see her. She’s wearing a pair of dark maroon scrubs, her hair plaited off to the side. My heart rate kicks up a notch as I take in her beauty.
“Rhys,” Bristol gasps as she looks over at me.
She’s standing behind the check-in counter, her eyes bright and sparkling, the light hitting them just right, a swirl of caramel dancing in the irises.
Her plump lips turn up at the corners in a smile she can’t hide, and fuck if it isn’t the most beautiful reaction to seeing me. “What are you doing here?”
“Volunteering.” I shrug like it’s no big deal that I’m suddenly two towns over from where I usually go.
She drops her hip to the side and crosses her arms. It’s so fucking cute. “But you volunteer in Amberwood.”
“That’s true, but something has been eating at me all week, telling me I should give some time to the shelter here.”
“In Bloomfield.”
“That’s correct. I’m sure you have some things that need servicing.
” Bristol makes a choking sound that she covers with a cough, and this time, I don’t bother hiding my delight.
She’s just so fucking cute. “Whatever you need, Dr. Owens, I’m happy to help.
I’m great with animals, and I’m happy to just sit and give them attention if that’s what you need today.
I won’t be in anyone’s way, if that’s what you’re worried about. ”
Bristol regards me, taking me in, and for the first time in my life, I’m fucking self-conscious.
This is a nice place for a shelter, in a ritzy part of the state, she’s a fucking doctor for fuck’s sake, and I’m just .
. . me. Vice president of a motorcycle club, got more blood on his hands than goddamn Jack the Ripper and a whole lotta baggage.
But I can’t stay away from her, and based on the look she’s giving me right now, she’s happy I didn’t.
“Tell me, Rhys, how long have you been volunteering at shelters?”
“Pretty much my whole life. Animals have never turned their back on me, never lied, cheated, or abused me. All they want is love and devotion, and in turn, they give you their entire life. Animals are a gift; I’d like to spend as much time with them as I can.”
“You like them better than people.” I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a question, but rather a statement of observation. Something tells me she feels the same way.
“Most of them at least, yeah.”
“I get that. Well, today’s your lucky day. I could use some help.”
“Like I said, I’m here for whatever you need. But first, I brought you breakfast,” I say as I lift the bakery bag and coffee. Bristol looks down at her watch and then back up at me, arching a brow.
“At eleven a.m.?”
“Brunch then.”
Her eyes light up, those beautiful lips pursing like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Smooth.”
“Is my charm working?”
“Depends on what you brought.”
I set the food and drinks down on the counter, allowing her to open the bag. When Bristol smiles, it lights up her entire face, and I know I’ll do whatever I can every day for the rest of my life to give her reasons to smile like this.
“Banana muffins and, what were those called again?”
“Sunrise Brioche. Did you try the one I left you?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And it was pretty mouthwatering. What was the inside filling?”
“Citrus and cream custard, the tops are brushed with orange blossom syrup and dusted with coarse sugar.”
Bristol arches a brow. “How do you know every fine detail, Rhys?”
“Because they’re my favorite. You really enjoyed it?” I ask, suddenly nervous. Shit, I’d really love for her to have enjoyed it.
“I really, really did.”
“Good, I brought two of each, just in case they weren’t your thing. You can save the rest for later. Here’s your latte.”
Bristol picks up the to-go coffee mug, lifting off the top and looking down at the still-intact heart, her teeth capturing her plush bottom lip.
I’ve never wanted to reach over and touch something so bad in my life, and I have to stick my hands in the pockets of my jacket to keep from doing just that.
I watch as she brings the mug to her lips, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. Tension thrums between us like a live wire. She holds me hostage, never looking away as she tentatively blows across the steam and foam, then places her pretty pink lips on the rim.
I never thought watching someone drink coffee would be sexy, but here we are, my dick perking up behind my denim jeans as I watch this gorgeous woman enjoy something I’ve provided for her.
But when her eyes flutter closed as the taste hits her tongue, a soft, delectable moan escaping her lips and reaching my ears? I about fucking die.
“Morning Fog.”
“That’s what you ordered last week, I assumed . . .”
“It’s delicious, and my favorite. I don’t make it to Amberwood often, so it’s a treat when I do go. Their specialty drinks are incredible. Thank you, Rhys.”
“Anything for you, Bristol,” I say, giving her a flirty wink.
I pull out the bakery items, placing them on the napkins, and do my new favorite thing: watch the woman of my dreams eat and enjoy her food. I want to feed her from my own fingers, but that’s probably frowned upon during a first date.
“Did you always want to become a vet?” She delicately wipes her mouth with a napkin before answering, and I wish I could do it for her. Not because she can’t, but because there’s something deep inside me, at a molecular level, urging me to care for her, to make sure she never wants for anything.
“I did. I found an injured, abandoned dog when I was seven years old. My parents and I brought him to a shelter where they took him in. I was allowed to go back once a week and check on him, until one day, he wasn’t there.
Even though my parents wouldn’t let us keep him, I was so happy that he found a new home.
I was fascinated by how they just took him in, cared for him, and helped give him a new start at life.
I knew from that moment I wanted to be a veterinarian, and not just anywhere, I wanted to work at shelters.
I’ve always felt called to animals; I understand them. ”
“And you didn’t want to have your own practice? Not to sound like a dick, but pretty sure you could be making a lot more that way. Not that this place isn’t nice, but I know how it goes with funding a place like this. You depend solely on others to help.”
Bristol shakes her head, delivering the best answer she possibly could have.
“No, no way. It’s not about the money I could make.
You know, I’ve never had a desire to have my own practice, to make money off of a family’s need for healthcare for their pets.
I want to work with the neediest, the forgotten, the abandoned, the harmed, the injured and most vulnerable.
I want to heal them and contribute to giving them the second chance at a life they deserve, a life that every living, breathing thing on Earth deserves.
A chance at happiness and health,” she rambles on, and fuck, I could listen to her talk passionately about this all day long and it would never get old.
My food and coffee long forgotten, I drop my forearms to the counter, leaning forward to listen intently.
“These babies . . .” she says as she holds out her arms in a show.
“They need me here. They’re vulnerable, lost, and if I can help them, ease their pain for even a fleeting moment, that’s how I want to spend my time.
” She picks up her coffee and does a double take as she looks at me.
I don’t know what my face says, but hers brightens with a smile. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “Just in awe of you,” I tell her honestly.
She blinks several times, a slow shuddering of her eyes like she’s processing my words. “Mmm. Well, I’m not that great, but thank you, you’re very sweet. Any pets of your own, or do you just love on all the shelter animals?”
“I have a pet bunny, actually. Mr. Bun-Buns.”
Bristol sputters on her latte, coughing twice before her head falls back in a deep laugh that I feel in my soul. Fuck, she’s incredible.
“What’s so funny about that?”
“Have you seen yourself, Rhys? Do you own a mirror?”
“Yeah, of course I do. What are you saying? Men can’t own bunnies?” I ask, mocking being offended, my hand flying up to my chest.
“Oh, no, they most certainly can. But you’re like the size of a bear, you look like you would eat little unsuspecting bunnies for dinner and use their bones as toothpicks.”
I laugh at her analogy. “Rude, actually. And have you never heard of a gentle giant, Dr. Owens?” I ask, leaning forward further over the desk into her space just slightly, my voice lower, quieter than before.
I don’t miss the way her breathing hitches, and I love the way she reacts to me.
If only I could touch her. I bet she would melt under my touch.
“Is that you, then, Rhys? A gentle giant?” Her voice is barely a whisper, as if she’s just as affected as I am by the proximity.
Her pretty hazel eyes peek up at me through her eyelashes as she looks up.
It takes all my strength not to reach out and tuck a rogue piece of hair behind her ears; I just need to touch her.
“Most of the time, depending on what the situation calls for.” Not wanting to tell her that I’ve gouged out a man’s eyes with my thumbs before, and that there was nothing gentle about that. “Now tell me, do you have any pets?”
“Pets? Oh, god no, Blake would never . . .” Bristol’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then her entire demeanor changes right before my eyes.
She retreats, sliding her chair out, putting space between us, her smile dropping instantly.
She composes herself quickly, masking the woman who was just with me.
Reading how she’s clearly uncomfortable, I stand back up, allowing her more of the space she clearly wants.
My heart sinks as dread starts to fester and spread through me like a disease.
I try to control my outward emotions, but nausea starts to churn in the pit of my stomach. Who the fuck is Blake?
“Blake would never?” I ask to clarify, bracing for the hit.
“My, uhm, my fiancé, Blake, he isn’t an animal person, so we don’t have any pets.
I soak up all their love while I’m at work,” she says, her spine straight and shoulders back, but there’s no missing the shakiness of her voice, like she’s not completely comfortable sharing that she has a fiancé.
Meanwhile, my world flips on its axis, the air sucked from my lungs, my heart lodged in my throat as pain lances through the organ.
Fiancé.
She’s engaged. My perfect woman is marrying someone who isn’t me.
Fuck.
Well, she’s not married yet. I wonder if she’d forgive me if I killed him.