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“Thought you weren’t keeping him,” Sara said.
Emily hugged the dog into her and he licked her ear.
She hid her face in his fur. It had been a really bad day. She was pretty sure that whatever she and Wyatt had been playing at was over.
It hurt, so much more than she could have imagined.
“Right,” Sara said. “Dad.”
Emily lifted her head. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know, let’s see,” Sara said. “You’ve got a turtle, a cat, and now a puppy. Our house is starting to resemble another vet’s house—a vet we both know and love, one whose genes we share. I’m just hoping that the next thing you bring home is Dr. Sexy.”
“We’re done doing whatever it was that we were doing,” Emily said, and rubbed a hand over the ache in her chest.
Sara shook her head. “You’ll forgive me if I doubt that.”
“It’s true,” Emily said. “And Woodrow’s only staying until I find his family.” Emily stared into twin pools of warm brown puppy eyes. “Right?”
He licked her chin again, and Emily felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest. “Great. And now I’m going to have a heart attack in Idaho.”
Sara shook her head. “You’re not having a heart attack. Your heart hurts cuz you’re falling for a damn rescue. Like you’re falling for Sunshine, and the people in it.”
“Bite your tongue.”
“Can’t. My new tongue piercing is still sore. Stop being stubborn, Emily, and get your head out of your ass. Plans change. Change yours and move on.”
She’d purposely not thought about her lifelong plan. So much that it’d taken Wyatt to point out to her that she’d forgotten to even look at it, much less update it. The fact was, she didn’t know how to make changes to it and still do the right thing. What did one do when the right thing wasn’t necessarily the right thing for her?
The next morning Emily got online to look at the bidding on the charity auction. Cassandra was now the high bidder. Crap. She had no business even caring who won Wyatt. None. She told herself to walk away. Instead, she bid again and drove to work. She sat in the car for a moment, engine off. Next to her in the passenger’s seat, Woodrow lifted his sleepy head and blinked at her. He wasn’t a morning dog. And since she wasn’t a morning person, they were perfect soul mates.
However temporary.
With a sigh, she got out of the car and turned back for her patient. He was doing much better today, but was still moving slowly. She started to help him down, but he hopped out on his own.
“You okay?” she asked.
He sat at her feet and pawed the air at her. She was pretty sure he did this because he knew exactly how cute he was when he did. “Yeah,” she said, heart squeezing. “You’re okay.” She kneeled in front of him. “I’m working hard at finding your owner, but I need you to be good for me. Can you do that?”
He licked her chin, and she hugged him. “Oh, Woodrow. What am I going to do with you?”
He panted happily in her ear.
“Okay,” she said, pulling away to look into his eyes. “I like your attitude. But since I’m sure whoever lost you is dying to have you back, there’s no use in us getting attached, okay? I get it’s going to be hard, because I have the same problem. I’m temporary here, too. And inside this building there’s this incredibly smart, incredibly fu
Woodrow barked his agreement.
That, or he was telling her that she was a complete idiot. It was a toss-up.
“Don’t make this harder than it is,” she said. “It’s best this way. You’re not staying. I’m not staying. So remember, no falling for the hot guy.” They shook on that, and then she rose to her feet. Turning, she plowed right into said hot guy. She thought of the things she’d said to him yesterday and had to lock her fingers together rather than reach for him.
Unlike her, Wyatt seemed to wake up in the mornings completely alert and ready to roll. His gaze was sharp on her, accessing but also somehow warm and affectionate. Either he hadn’t let yesterday sink in, or he wasn’t bothered in the slightest that they were no longer a thing. He was in low-slung cargoes, battered boots, and an untucked button-down, open over a T-shirt that read: I like big mutts.
Her stupid heart skipped a beat. “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” she said.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
She searched his expression for the truth but couldn’t determine whether he was being honest or not. He was good at hiding his feelings when he wanted to. “Good,” she finally said, deciding to believe him, “because I wasn’t talking about you, anyway.”
Wyatt laughed. Laughed. And then he crouched on the balls of his feet and held out his hand to Woodrow. “Come here, little man.”
Wriggling in joy, Woodrow followed the demand.
Wyatt looked him over good, gave him a very careful body rub, working around his bandages. Woodrow’s eyes rolled in ecstasy into the back of his head. “He’s looking good,” Wyatt told Emily. “You did a great job with him the other night.” He rose up to his full height, looking disturbingly wonderful with Woodrow in his arms.
The dog licked him from chin to forehead, and Wyatt pressed a kiss of his own to the top of his head before setting the wriggling pup back on the ground.
Emily started to walk past Wyatt into the building, but he stopped her, a hand on hers. She looked up into his face. His hair was still damp, undoubtedly from his morning shower. It curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck. He’d shaved, and she . . . ached. She wanted to press her face into his throat and try to inhale him up. She had no idea what she’d been thinking, because she couldn’t imagine being just co-workers now that she knew how it felt to be in his arms. The problem was that she knew he wasn’t the guy for her. Not just because he wasn’t on her plan but because Darcy had said so and he hadn’t disagreed. He never lied, never misled, never misspoke. She could take him at his word.
Always.
A comfort.
And now, a nightmare.
He stepped close, until they were toe-to-toe, waiting until she tipped her head back to look at him. “If getting attached is the worst thing you do while you’re here,” he said quietly, the teasing light in his eyes gone, “that’s not such a bad thing.”
“You said you didn’t eavesdrop.”
“It’s not eavesdropping if a person’s talking to herself.”
“I was talking to Woodrow.”
He smiled at her and she was hit with another wave of longing for him that nearly took her out at the knees.
“I’ll be in surgery this morning,” he finally said. “You’re scheduled to shadow. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Of course not,” she said. “Is your shoulder—”
“Fine,” he said.
Not that he’d tell her if it wasn’t fine. He liked to chide her for keeping to a plan, but he’d kept himself a virtual island. He held the door open for her and Woodrow.
They were greeted by Gertie and Jade, who’d returned the night before. Woodrow sat patiently while Gertie sniffed him for the second morning in a row, taking a long time at his bandages. Woodrow’s tail was wagging with an air of hopefulness that made Emily’s throat tighten. When Gertie was done, Woodrow licked her.
Gertie licked him back, flopped to the floor, her hundred plus pounds shaking the place.
“Bed hog!” Peanut yelled.
Emily had put flyers up throughout town, and on several online bulletin boards as well. She’d gone by her neighbor’s house twice but no one had been home.
Jade handed her a stack of messages and watched Emily flip through them. Lots of people had called, wanting to adopt Woodrow. But no one had claimed to be his owner.