Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“That tells me the woman in question means something to him.” Sasha curls one tanned leg beneath her.
I’ve had enough. “I’m right here while you’re talking about me,” I remind them. Jesus fuck, these two mean business. Isn’t it enough that they know borrowing Bella is important to me?
Sasha laughs and rubs Bella’s soft head. “Just have her home by seven. She has an early curfew.”
With her permission to take the dog, the muscles in my shoulders ease. They just gave me the reason I need to pay Tara an impromptu visit. And that’s all I’ve been waiting for.
I sit up and put the sunglasses back on Bella’s face. “Come on, girl. We need to make a good impression.” I rise, and as if she were my pet, Bella stands and begins to follow me toward the house.
Xander and Sasha stand and join my trek inside. Once in the kitchen, Sasha hands me Bella’s leash, and I hook it to her collar, adjusting her sunglasses, which are going to be a pain in the ass to keep on. But she looks cute, and that’s what matters.
“Thanks, guys. I owe you one.” My car is parked in the driveway out front, and I start to walk out of the room.
“Hey!” Xander calls out.
I turn.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
I narrow my gaze. “Keys and wallet,” I say, patting my pocket. “Dog, leash… Nope. I’m good.”
“She’s still wearing my sunglasses,” Xander says, as if I need a reminder.
“It’s sunny out, and I have my convertible. She’s going to need them.”
Sasha lets out an unladylike snort of laughter, causing me to grin, while her husband frowns and shakes his head. Sometimes I wonder how Dash and this more serious man are related.
“Wish me luck,” I say and take my companion out of the house and lead her to my brand-new Chevy Corvette, in what the dealer called Elkhart Lake Blue Metallic. To me, it’s my royal blue metallic baby.
I settle Bella in the passenger seat, once again picking up the glasses she knocked off and adjusting them on her face.
After I turn on the engine, I open my phone’s map app, put in the business name, and start the directions.
I drive out of the circular driveway, my stomach in knots because, other than the dog beside me, I have no real plan. A short while later, I pull up to a white clapboard building that, if not for the driveway and parking lot out front, looks more like a house than a clinic.
I cut the engine and turn to my panting passenger. “Now remember, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Tara, and I’m counting on you to break the ice for me.”
Drool hangs from Bella’s mouth, and I groan. “Don’t be nervous. Tara was great when we were younger. In fact, she was really important to me.” And I am hoping I can get to know her again and see if the old spark between us remains. “I’m sure she’s got gentle hands and is a good vet. You’re going to like her a lot.”
I continue to talk to Bella, giving the dog a pep talk that is meant more for myself than for her. Which is ridiculous considering I’m a rock star who can get any woman I desire with a simple look, cock of my head, or lifting of my lips in my signature smirk.
The fact that I haven’t been with a woman in over six months says something about my state of mind when it comes to the opposite sex. No one has interested me in a long time. Until now. That I sit in my car outside a small-town vet’s office like a nervous teen is pretty fucking pathetic.
But seeing Tara’s photo stirred all sorts of memories of the time we spent together, the fun we had, and the feelings we shared. I’m not stupid and know I only have one second chance with the woman I once wished I could spend the rest of my life with. And I’m counting on a dog to do the heavy lifting.
CHAPTER TWO
Tara
I walk out from the back area of my veterinary practice, East Hampton Vets. I finished an annual exam on an overweight Pomeranian named Hazel and went into the back area to check in on the overnighters. All my patients are doing well.
I join my mother out front and place a folder on the desk. “That’s it until after lunch,” I say. “Did you get Mrs. Frankel checked out okay?” I ask of my last patient.
My mom nods. “She wasn’t happy with the diet you put Hazel on. She complained about the cost and said we were just trying to make money off our clients.”
I sigh. “Hazel is seventeen pounds. The breed standard is three to seven. Even if she was a throwback to the older Poms who weighed up to fifteen, which she’s not, she’s still overweight. It’s not good for her heart or other organs.”