Chapter 23
Verity stepped into the waiting area of McNabb’s Veterinary Clinic and wished she was the type of person who could see something she didn’t want to deal with, turn on her heel, and walk away. Just like that. No worries. No recriminations.
No pride poking her to turn her butt around and deal with it anyway.
It didn’t help that all her life her brothers had told her she was strong and smart and capable and could do the hardest of hard things.
Like that had done her any favors.
She never should have agreed to stay late to help with a dog who’d had a run-in with a porcupine.
Because she knew the dog that had been brought in.
And his scowly, tattooed, grouchy owner.
Reed sat on the floor with Titus, his back to her, his upper body bent over as he stroked his dog’s back. His hair was down, the wavy strands loose around his shoulders. He must have come straight from working at the garage because he had on a pair of grease-stained gray coveralls, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his tattoos and the play of muscles in his forearms.
Watching him without him knowing was nice. Easier for her to keep her feelings in check.
And by feelings she meant the anger, resentment, and absolute humiliation that filled every fiber of her being when she thought about him telling her he wasn’t interested in her, wasn’t attracted to her, and then had gone and hooked up with another girl. Something the girl’s less-than-subtle Instagram post—including a picture of a shirtless Reed—had made more than clear.
So, yes, she meant those feelings. Not the pesky ones that popped up every now and again when her defenses were down. Ones that tried to tell her he wasn’t so much bad as he was broken.
And that she could fix him.
Ha.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
God. For someone so well-adjusted, she sure could be an idiot.
She cleared her throat and Reed glanced over his shoulder, and in that moment, she saw everything she didn’t want to see. The way his eyes widened with surprise as he shot to his feet. How he took a quick, appreciative scan of her from head to toe before he tore his gaze away. How he swallowed thickly and wiped the palms of his hands down the front of his coveralls.
How he muttered something under his breath that looked a whole lot like the word fuck.
Same, pretty boy. Same.
“We’re ready for Titus,” she told him.
When Titus heard her voice, he got to his feet and moved to Reed’s side, his tail thumping against Reed’s legs with a happy, thwack, thwack, thwack.
And she saw the quills sticking out of Titus’s face.
The many, many quills.
“Oh, poor baby,” she crooned, rushing over and crouching in front of Titus.
The majority of quills covered the lower half of his face, like a prickly, painful beard, with several in his nose and a couple close to his right eye, so she was able to gently stroke the top of his head.
“You got yourself into a mess, didn’t you?” she asked Titus.
Beside her Reed shifted. “It wasn’t his fault.”
And it was patently ridiculous that just the sound of his voice, so low and husky, did the things to her that it did.
Like make her want to ask him to keep talking. About his dog or the weather or what he ate today. To beg him to share all his thoughts with her. All the things he kept hidden from everyone else. What he liked. What he disliked.
Besides her, of course.
What he hoped for. What he was afraid of.
Again, besides her.
“You can fill Dr. McNabb in on the details,” she told him.
“I left him tied up out back, behind our garage, when I went to work this morning,” Reed said, because he was nothing if not contrary, and instead of taking the hint, instead of remembering their agreement, he was talking to her. Purposely. When usually, she had to yank each and every precious word from his mouth.
Bad boy rebels. They loved to keep a girl on her toes.
“When I came home,” he continued as he crouched next to her, his low voice ragged and full of guilt, “he was like this.”
While she refused to soften toward him, she couldn’t just crouch there and let him suffer. She wasn’t a monster.
“As long as it was less than twenty-four hours,” she said, “he should be fine. These things happen.”
Her tone was soft, but definitely maintained a hint of chilliness.
Hey, she might not be a monster, but she also wasn’t a masochist. And each of the previous times she’d softened toward this boy, she’d ended up hurt.
“It was my fault,” he said so quietly, she found herself leaning toward him, only to jerk herself upright again. He set his hand on Titus’s nape, his long fingers tanned and stained with oil, the knuckles scraped. “I never should have tied him up back there, but my old man was…” He stopped. Shook his head, then blew out a breath and held her gaze. “I thought I was keeping him safe, but Titus hates being tied up.”
He faced her and she realized how close they were, his knee touching her thigh. So close she could make out the strands of darker gold in his patchy whiskers. The dark, navy rim around the bright blue irises of his eyes. “He couldn’t get away.”
And if that wasn’t a metaphor for her current situation, she didn’t know what was.
Because that was how she felt, crouched there in the empty waiting area staring into Reed’s eyes, her heart racing, her palms going damp.
Tied to him.
“Verity?”
Verity glanced over her shoulder and saw Dr. McNabb, a tall, gorgeous, middle-aged Black woman in dark gray scrubs and sneakers, her long dreadlocks pulled up in a bun, standing in the doorway behind the reception area.
Eyes wide, panic setting in, Verity did a full body turn while standing up, which would have been a slick move if she’d managed to be graceful about it.
Alas, no grace was had.
She turned too quickly and had to slap her hand on top of Reed’s head so she didn’t topple over.
“Ow,” the big baby muttered, not even reaching out a hand to help steady her.
Reed Walsh did not touch her.
Ever.
“Yes?” Verity asked Dr. McNabb, blushing so hard, she lifted both hands to her cheeks to make sure they really weren’t on fire.
If Dr. McNabb—one of the smartest, savviest, and absolutely the coolest person Verity knew—thought it odd to find Verity cuddled up with the owner of one of her patients on the floor of her otherwise empty waiting area, she didn’t show it.
Or show any judgment over it.
Then again, she and her husband had raised four daughters. She was probably used to walking in on teenagers doing stupid things.
“Is Titus ready?” she asked.
Verity glanced at Reed only to find him holding Titus like he was a cuddly puppy and not a fully grown, seventy-pound dog with a snout full of porcupine quills.
“He’s ready,” Reed said, brushing past Verity, as if she’d suddenly turned invisible.
So nice to know things were quickly returning back to normal between them.
Reed carried Titus over to Dr. McNabb, who made a sympathetic tsking sound when she saw his face. “That porcupine got you good,” she murmured, gently turning his head to the side. “Don’t you worry. We’ll get you feeling better in no time.” Her phone buzzed and she checked the screen. Looked up at Verity. “Please take Titus to Exam Room 2. Sydnye has everything set up and ready. I’ll be in as soon as I take this. This is Dr. McNabb,” she said, answering the phone as she walked down the hallway to her office.
Leaving Verity alone with Reed.
Again.
Not her favorite place to be.
She tended to stand a little too close to him when it was just the two of them. Say things better left unsaid. Forget all the important lessons she’d learned from all the previous times she’d been alone with him.
She waited, but Reed just stood there, holding his dog. “Did you bring a leash?”
Looking at her as if that was the dumbest question someone in a vet clinic had ever asked him about his dog, he shook his head.
She went behind the desk. “You can set him down,” she told him, getting one of the leashes kept in a bottom drawer.
Reed sent her one of his usual scowls. “Why?”
She straightened. “So I can take him to the exam room.”
“I’ll carry him for you.”
“Dr. McNabb prefers owners to stay out here.”
It was for safety reasons.
And, also, because some owners could be giant pains in the butt.
But mostly for safety reasons.
“How are you going to get him onto the exam table?”
“The same way we got a Mastiff onto it this morning,” she said, clipping the leash onto Titus’s collar. “We’ll lift him.”
It had taken both her and Sydney, the clinic’s vet tech, but they’d managed just fine.
Pulling Titus closer, he stepped back as if to stop her from wrestling him from his arms.
And she realized he wasn’t being difficult to make her life miserable.
He was worried about his dog.
So much for not softening toward him.
“Did the receptionist explain the procedure to you?” she asked.
Abigail, the receptionist, had had him fill out the needed paperwork before she’d left to pick up her son from daycare.
Reed shrugged.
Which did not, in any way, shape, or form answer her question.
Why was this boy such a trial?
“Would it help if I told you what Dr. McNabb’s going to do?” she asked, gentling her voice.
He nodded.
Progress.
“Because there are so many quills, Dr. McNabb will put him under, either a sedative or anesthesia. I’m sure Abigail went over the possible complications associated with sedation?”
Although his jaw tightened, he nodded again.
“After Titus is sedated, it’s just a matter of pulling the quills out. Once that’s done, Dr. McNabb will give Titus something to reverse the sedation. We’ll keep an eye on him for a while after he’s awake and then, when Dr. McNabb is certain he’s up to it, she’ll send him home with some antibiotics. You should be able to take him home within a couple of hours. Do you have any questions for Dr. McNabb before she gets started?”
He shook his head.
Boy of few words, this one.
If he’d been any other pet owner worried for their precious dog’s health and safety, she might have set her hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. Care.
Instead, she wrapped the leash around both hands, gripping the fabric tightly. “Dr. McNabb will take good care of him,” she promised him. “We all will. And, if you want, I can come out here and keep you informed of where the doctor’s at with the procedure.”
“No.”
Look at that! A word.
Would wonders never cease?
Even more miraculous, he kept right on talking.
“I’d rather you stay with him,” he added gruffly. “He likes you. He trusts you.”
Except the way he said it, the way he was looking at her, made it seem like it wasn’t just his dog who liked and trusted her.
But he did, too.
***
When Verity finally walked out of the clinic, Reed—sitting on the tailgate of his truck—gently removed Titus’s head from where it’d been resting on his lap and got to his feet.
Waiting for her was a mistake. One he had no doubt would somehow cost him.
But seeing her walk across the parking lot, her head down as she looked at her phone, he was willing to pay whatever price he had to.
Each time he saw her, she got prettier.
What the fuck was up with that? He’d known her since kindergarten. Had seen her hundreds of times throughout his life, maybe even thousands. In class at elementary school. Passing her in the halls in Middle and High school. Around town.
But when he’d caught sight of her standing across the waiting room in a pair of boxy white scrubs with black and red cartoon dogs and cats all over them, her hair pulled back in two fancy braids, it was like his breath had disappeared.
Like she’d stolen it.
He was still waiting for it to come back.
That was what she did to him. Each time he was around her, she took a little bit more from him. Stealing his breath every time her eyes meet his.
Burning his patience to ash with her snotty tone.
Whittling away his self-control with her kindness and compassion and intelligence.
She was almost to her car when she finally looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped. He’d taken off the top half of his coveralls, tying the sleeves at his waist, and her gaze scanned his upper body, clad in a sleeveless, gray t-shirt. Tracked over the tattoos on his arms. Lingered on his biceps. He tensed, flexing for her as subtly as possible and she blinked twice, a pink flush staining her cheeks.
Then she dropped her gaze, and he could see her getting control of herself. Having some sort of internal debate or, more than likely, lecturing herself as thoroughly as she lectured him and everyone else when they failed to live up to her high standards.
When she raised her eyes again, it was to glare at him.
It was a warning for assholes like him to keep their distance.
It was also about as intimidating as a frowny baby bunny.
But add in that mouth of hers?
Together they got the job done.
Don’t fuck with smart girls. They’ll tear you to shreds.
With a slight, confused frown, she walked toward him. Her shoulders were back, her chin lifted, but her teeth were worrying her lower lip in a way that had him thinking about her scraping them along the length of his cock before he slid his dick between those pretty, pink lips.
His cock twitched, all for that idea.
And had a few more ideas of its own. Ones that involved her hands, those lush breasts and curvy ass.
Dropping his gaze, he angled his body slightly away from her. Petted Titus’s head while mentally going through the steps needed to rebuild a carburetor.
The last thing he needed was to get a hard-on right now.
If Verity noticed, she’d try and make him being attracted to her into something it wasn’t.
Something bigger. More important.
He wanted to fuck her. That was it.
And he thought about her. A lot.
Fantasized about her when he jacked off.
And he couldn’t seem to walk away from her.
No matter how hard he tried.
“Is Titus okay?” she called when she was still twenty feet away.
Hearing Verity say his name, Titus got to his feet. Swaying like he was drunk, his tail wagging, he did a doggy version of a happy dance, all four paws tapping against the truck bed in excitement, body vibrating.
He didn’t know which one of them had a bigger thing for her. Him. Or his dog.
Reed nodded in response to her question, and she glanced at her car. Like now that she had her answer, she had nothing else to say.
Fuck that. She always had more to say.
“He’s a little loopy,” Reed blurted out. “Is that normal?”
Heart pounding, he watched the indecision cross her face. Remembered what she’d said to him the last time he’d seen her.
If you see me, don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same space, leave.
He was breaking their agreement. Going against her wishes after he’d told her keeping his distance would be easy for him to do.
It wasn’t his fault she didn’t realize he was nothing but a fucking liar.
Part of him hoped she’d walk away. That she’d be the one to finally end whatever this was between them once and for all.
If only because he couldn’t seem to do it himself.
But even though he told himself her walking away was what he wanted, when she instead started walking toward him again, relief rushed through him so hard, so fast, he had to lean against the tailgate so he didn’t fall on his ass.
Another thing she kept taking from him.
His fucking pride.
“It is normal,” she said. “It takes between twenty-four and forty-eight hours for the anesthesia to fully wear off, and he might be sleepy for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Just do your best to keep him comfortable and keep an eye on him for that period.”
Her phone buzzed with a call, and she stopped to check it, this time eight feet away.
Stayed there.
He straightened. He didn’t like that. Didn’t like that she kept any amount of distance between them. He’d gotten used to her invading his personal space. Standing close enough for him to smell the coconut scent of her shampoo. Casually patting his upper arm, like they were friends. Gently wrapping her hand around his forearm or wrist like she was on his side.
He didn’t touch her back. Couldn’t.
There would be nothing friendly or casual about it, because there was nothing gentle or sweet about the way he wanted her.
The things he wanted to do her.
The one, the only time he’d let himself touch her was when they’d danced at Patton’s wedding, and even then, he’d kept his touch feather light. His hands settled respectfully on her waist.
And he could still feel the silky material of her dress under his fingers. The curve of her hips under his palms. The warmth of her skin seeping into his.
It was his punishment for daring to touch something so pristine and innocent.
So fucking perfect.
“Didn’t Dr. McNabb talk to you after the procedure was done?” she asked, ignoring whoever was calling her.
He shrugged. The vet had talked to him. She’d told him she’d removed seventy-six quills, most of them on Titus’s face and in his mouth, a few in his neck and paws. Luckily, none of them had caused any serious damage.
“I wanted to hear it from you.”
Verity flushed with pleasure and he wondered what else he could do that would put that pretty color in her cheeks and throat. What else he could tell her that would have her staying with him, just a little longer.
She stepped closer, moving to stand on the opposite end of the tailgate. Titus immediately scrambled over to her—and almost toppled sideways off the truck.
“Easy,” Verity murmured to Titus, reaching out to steady him at the same time Reed did.
Their fingers brushed against his dog’s side, and she immediately yanked her hand away, which had Titus whining and nudging her hand with his head.
Yeah. His dog had it bad.
Not as bad as he did, though, because when she stroked her hand over Titus’s head, he got jealous. Of his dog.
Jesus.
“He did great. Yes, you did,” she told Titus. “You were such a good boy. And very brave.” She sighed, then faced Reed, her hand still on his dog’s head. “I know I’m going to regret this, but if Titus needs a safe place to stay while you’re at work tomorrow, Ian and I will watch him. But the offer is only for tomorrow and it’s only because he shouldn’t be left alone for the next twenty-four hours.”
Christ, but there was no end to how fucking good she was.
It made it that much clearer how different they were. How far out of his league a girl like her would always be.
“I’m bringing him with me to work tomorrow.”
Tommy, his boss at the garage, said he could bring Titus in for a few days. After that, he’d have to figure something else out. There was no way he could leave Titus tied up out back again, and he sure as hell didn’t trust him in the trailer with his old man.
“Oh. Okay.” Except she didn’t sound like it was okay. She sounded disappointed. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call the office.” She turned back to Titus, giving him one last pat. “I hope you feel better.”
Then she moved to walk past Reed.
He stepped in front of her. “Are you hungry?”
She stopped. Took a step back, keeping distance between them once again as she frowned at him. “What?”
“We could get some pizza. Or ice cream.”
Ice cream would be better for his wallet, especially now that he had an emergency vet bill to pay. But he’d suck it up and get whatever she wanted. Do whatever she wanted.
And that realization didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it should have.
“What is happening right now?” she demanded, because even something as simple as asking her if she wanted to get a pizza had to be turned into a major deal.
When it came to Verity Jennings, nothing was easy.
But he was starting to think it didn’t have to be. Because it would always be worthwhile.
He took a step toward her, and when she didn’t back up, he took another. “I want to buy you dinner.”
For a moment, she looked stunned. Joyful.
For a moment, just one, he let himself hope. Told himself that for once, he could have what he wanted. Even if it only lasted as long as it took them to eat dinner.
Promised himself that he wasn’t going to fuck this up.
Then her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms, looking at him with as much suspicion as her cop brother always did. “Why?”
Because I want to spend time with you.
But he couldn’t say that.
All the reasons he needed to stay away from her were still there. Still real.
“It’s payback. I owe you. For staying with Titus while they took the quills out.”
She dropped her gaze, but not before he saw the disappointment in her eyes. The hurt.
“Idiot,” she whispered under her breath, and he didn’t know if she was talking about him or herself.
All he knew was that he’d said the wrong thing. Again.
He’d hurt her. Again.
And he’d managed to fuck this up after all.