Chapter 5
Jamie noticed Rebecca as she marched past the stall where he checked on an ailing horse.
Her shoulders were straight; her steps steady and sure—the marks of someone on a mission.
Using the antibacterial wipes he carried everywhere to clean his hands, he issued instructions to the stableman tasked with monitoring the quarter horse, asked if he had any questions, and then grabbed his custom saddlebag that did double duty as a doctor”s kit.
”Call the clinic if anything changes, and don”t forget to track her water consumption.”
”Will do. Thanks, Doc.”
Slapping his cowboy hat on, he nodded and exited the stall. One of the barn cats slithered around his feet, and he stooped to pick her up.
”You hate this place, don”t you?”He chuckled when the golden-furred feline tried to burrow into his shoulder. ”I get it. Not everyone is suited for barn duty.”
The cat answered with a loud purr.
An unexpected rush of affinity for the misplaced cat poured into Jamie”s emotions. He knew more than a little about feeling out of place.
He turned his face into the cat”s fur with a deep sigh.
The purring got louder.
”Shit.”There was no way he was putting the cat down and walking away.
”Alright—here”s the deal,”he murmured. ”I live alone, so you”d have to be okay with being on your own most of the time. If solitude isn”t a dealbreaker, we”ll get along great.”
And just like that, he adopted a cat.
Lifting the small feline onto his shoulder, he told her to ”Hold on”before slowly strolling through the row of stalls. She balanced better than an Olympic gymnast.
When he approached the massive stable doors, he peered into the blazing sunlight. For half a second, he wondered where Rebecca had gone until his sweeping gaze located her several yards away, crouched and looking at the ground.
”Meow.”
He turned his head to acknowledge the cat on his shoulder. “Mmm, Rebecca,” he murmured. ”You know her?”
She answered with a tail swish.
Another second passed, and she added a short ”Meow.”
”You think she”s pretty? Me too.”
What Rebecca Tate”s hips did for a pair of jeans set a high bar. Her natural curves were something. He wondered if, like most women today, she imagined herself fat. God, he hoped not. The cookie-cutter females dominating media and magazines did not represent the majority—not at all. And thank god, too.
He thought about a discussion he”d overheard between a couple of his clinic staff and a few guys from the kennel. They were talking women, of course. Loads of comments were made, but one about fancy gals stood out for him. In today”s hook-up culture, more and more guys are saying ”No thanks”to anyone with a certain look.
And who personified the look?
Well, he thought with a snicker, it rhymes with car-dash-eon. The cardash generation tended to wrap themselves in shapewear like a mummy. Good luck attempting a boob grab, and forget about finding a way into her pants.
Thankgod,Rebecca wasn”t the type to bother. Despite whatever inner narrative she had about her body, she more or less owned her look.
Today, she wore her usual workday uniform—jeans, boots, a cotton shirt, and a straw cowgirl hat.
Jamie and his shoulder cat moved closer to the stable doors for a better view. He stayed in the shadows, standing two feet inside the stable. From there, he had a front-row seat.
Sammy, Rebecca”s assistant, approached her. She stood, brushing off her pants. They spoke for a few seconds, and then she started gesturing, pointing right and left and then behind where they stood.
Sammy got in on the action. He stood with his arms wide. Then Rebecca did the same thing—their fingers barely touching.
Fascinating.
”Meow.”The cat”s tail swished.
”I”m not sure,”he murmured.
Sammy spoke, gestured, and ran toward the equipment shed next to the stable. He quickly returned, handing something to Rebecca.
She pointed at the ground, the sky, and the nearby trees.
Shaking whatever Sammy had put in her hand, she pointed to the ground again, only a stream of white shot from her hand this time.
”Spray paint,”he murmured. ”She”s marking something off.”
Conferring with her assistant as she proceeded, Rebecca drew an X in the dirt. Then she took several big steps—he assumed she was measuring by stride. Sammy pointed and gave her the thumbs-up signal of approval. She drew another X.
Next, she put up her arm and pointed to a distant spot. More big strides. When she stopped, Sammy waved at her to continue. After three more exaggerated strides, she stopped and drew another X.
”Corners,”he told the cat. ”She”s marking corners.”
They watched for another minute. Eventually, Sammy got called away, leaving Rebecca alone and in the clear.
Jamie didn”t hesitate. His feet began to move.
With her back facing him, she didn”t see him coming. Advantage, Jamie.
”Mrs. Tate,”he called to tell her he was invading her space. ”What are we building?”
He detected a sharp gasp right before she whirled around. Though the hat and sunglasses obscured most of her face, he was sure her expression was one of shock.
”Dr. Hunter.”Her voice was less-than-friendly, but her body language told a different story.
Up close, he could see more of her outfit. Her thin cotton shirt, sleeves rolled back, had a faint plaid-like pattern in shades of blue and purple. Beneath it, she wore a white tank top.
In the building”s midday heat, she appeared a bit sweaty. Her cheeks were flushed, and the skin on her neck glistened with sweat.
She wet her lips and then frowned.
He knew that look. It said, ”Damn, I forgot my water.”
Reaching into his back pocket, Jamie pulled out a pack of gum. He handed her a foil-wrapped stick. ”Here, this will help.”
When Rebecca replied, the sound of someone wishing the ground would open and swallow them was heavy in her voice.
”Oh, yeah, um, thanks.”
Mirroring her actions, he unwrapped a stick for himself. They stood silently for a minute, chewing.
”Cinnamon? All Spice?”she asked. ”Seems unusual for you, Doctor.”
He chuckled. ”Blame my sister. She sent me care packages with retro candy. I”ve got a drawer full of Chiclets gum.”
Her dark sunglasses made it impossible to read her eyes, but he could still feel the heat of her intense gaze.
”Are we just going to ignore the blonde on your shoulder?”
He reacted with a smirk. ”My new roommate.”
”Roommate?”Rebecca drawled. ”So you”re off the market then? What”s her name?”
Unsure if he should react to her off-the-market comment, he did the next best and spontaneously named his pet.
”This is Cat. Cat Nebatar.”
Cat swished her tail and meowed.
Rebecca”s lips quivered. Was she fighting a smile?
”Your roommate”s name is Cat Nebatar? Did she scratch you with her best shot?”
”Something like that.”
Rebecca stretched her arms and urged his new feline friend to abandon her shoulder perch.
Damn animal climbed into Rebecca”s arms, settled, and then winked at him.
Clever Cat!
With a quick smile, he thought, Cat and Iare going to get along just fine.
Gesturing to the spray-painted Xs, he asked again, ”What madness are you measuring out?”
Petting Cat, Rebecca turned to look at the Xs. ”No madness, Dr. Hunter. Just some shade for the workers. Nothing fancy. I”m thinking of a pavilion with a couple of ceiling fans and picnic tables.”She shrugged. “N-B-D.”
Nah. He wasn”t going to allow her to minimize what she was doing for her people or let her blow off the caring gesture.
”It”s a huge deal, Mrs. Tate. Not every manager gives a shit about the well-being of the people doing the hard work. If you need it, I”m giving my stamp of approval. We ensure our animals have what they need to endure months of scorching heat, so doing the same for the humans entrusted to our care makes sense.”
Her lips pressed together, forming a grim line.
”What”s the matter?”
She didn”t answer right away—nuzzling Cat and looking everywhere except at him.
Jamie sighed. There was so much past friction between them that even a minor attempt to be pleasant and supportive seemed suspicious.
”Stop being nice,”she finally grumbled. ”It throws me off.”
Well, damn. Now what?
He wasn”t sure he had an answer.
”Maybe we should clear the air,”he offered in a calm, clear voice.
Rebecca scoffed—her laughter didn”t offend him; he found her attitude funny but kept his amusement off his face.
”By clear the air, do you mean clever name-calling?”
Jamie rolled a shoulder and said, ”Okay.”
Name-calling wasn”t what he had in mind, but her comeback—while intended to be snarky—had merit.
The sunglasses hid her shock. She had not expected he would play along.
Silly Rebecca.
”You want to start?”he asked. ”After all, ladies first.”
Cat meowed loudly and swished her tail.
”Why do you hate me?”she suddenly barked.
”Excuse me?”He was genuinely shocked.
”You”ve been a dick since day one. Not necessarily to anyone else except me. I”m not blind or stupid, Dr. Hunter.”
Handing Cat over to him, she added, ”People notice. That”s all I”m saying.”
Taking the cat from her, he considered putting her down until she climbed up his arm and lay on his shoulder.
He knew other people picked up on his and Rebecca”s shared animosity. Although he generally didn”t give a fuck what people thought, Jamie had to admit there were exceptions to this rule. Even though he didn”t want to care and had done everything he could to stand apart and separate from every living soul in Bendover, the truth was more nuanced.
Jamie cared what Alex thought. He cared what Stephanie thought, and goddammit to hell, he really fucking cared what Kourtney Tate thought. More or less discovering they regarded him as a dick for his treatment of Rebecca made him cringe.
”I don”t hate you, Mrs. Tate. Do I think you”re difficult and a bitch? Yep,”he nodded. ”Guilty.”
”Did you just call me a bitch?”she squawked in a voice brimming with disbelief.
”You told me I”m a dick. I responded in kind.”
A long, tense silence ensued. He looked at her and refused to back down despite being unable to read her eyes. The ball was in her court.
”This is why we can”t have nice things,”she eventually spat.
”Did you want me to lie or make up pretty words so as not to offend?”
Waving her hands and mumbling, she muttered, ”I can”t win with you.”
Sensing she was seconds away from stomping off, he asked the question she had left hanging in the air.
”Do you want to win—with me?”
Watching her jaw drop was immensely satisfying.
She told him to fuck off—not with words—with body language.
Between one second and the next, he went from being absolutely sure he needed to keep this woman at arm”slength,to imagining her over his knee getting her ass pinked for the insolence.
Cat purred loudly. Could she hear his thoughts? Was the stupid feline egging him on?
Throwing in her cards, Rebecca walked away, huffing and puffing.
He watched her go—thoroughly enjoying the way her hips rocked.
Thanks to his cracking open the lockbox where he kept his tightly leashed sex drive, now he had a situation on his hands.
Damn.