by Stasia Black
She sank back against the shower wall, shoulders slumping.
If it was just the clinic work, she’d be flying high. She’d get too busy and focused to obsess about food or anything else. Her ham sandwich was downed on the run between cases without any fanfare. Breakfast was much the same—she was always in a rush to get to the clinic. That in and of itself felt like a miracle.
But then, after the clinic closed each day around 1:00, the farm calls began. And as satisfying as diagnosing a case of worms was or stitching up a laceration after a cat fight, she couldn’t help feeling the farm work was more important. Pets might be beloved members of a family household, but the farm animals were people’s livelihood. Some of the farms they visited were small enough operations that every animal counted.
And she had no confidence in herself with the large animals after the calving fiasco. Hunter wasn’t doing anything to help either. He seemed constantly annoyed by her presence. Which was a problem since, you know, they were spending a lot of time together.
Hours and hours in the car every afternoon. Sometimes the calls lasted into early evening. She knew Hunter went out in the morning before coming into the clinic. And he’d been called out for an emergency foaling in the middle of the night a couple days ago. But she didn’t complain anymore about him not calling her in for these. The endless afternoon trips with him were bad enough.
Earlier today she’d finally grown the lady-balls to insist he let her help again. After all, the only way he even acknowledged her presence was when she forced him to.
She didn’t even know why he was being such an ass. She’d thought maybe he had a God complex and he treated all his interns this way. At least until last Monday when one of his former interns dropped by the clinic. He and Hunter had laughed together and sounded like best friends. In fact, with the receptionist, with clients, with everybody else in the universe that Hunter interacted with, he was the friendly, nice guy she’d first met at the bar.
Until it came to her.
She didn’t get it. Yeah, so she’d slept with him and okay, she hadn’t been one hundred percent transparent about where she was from when she first met him. But so what? Get over it already. They had a professional relationship and it was time he started treating her with the respect she deserved as his assistant.
She wanted to say all that to his face.
She’d been about to.
She really had.
But then they’d arrived at the Newton’s farm and she saw the gelding that was in pain from colic.
Colic was scary and life-threatening. It was a build up of gas in a horse’s stomach that they had no natural way to get out on their own. Isobel hated seeing the horse suffering. But it was something she felt confident she knew how to treat.
“I’m going to help you with this case,” she announced to Hunter as he grabbed the tubing and plunger from the equipment box at the back of his truck.
She was ready for an argument but all he did was toss her a big plastic bucket and say, “Okay.”
Infuriating man.
He hadn’t thrown her into the deep end on her own again. They’d actually worked together. He’d gloved up and then felt inside the back end of the horse, then gestured for her to do the same. She winced when she felt how much gas had built up inside the poor gelding. It felt like a bunch of balloons pressing against her arm.
Hunter let her feed the tubing up the horse’s nose and down into its stomach. He filled the bucket up with water.
Then she started flushing a mixture of water and mineral oil into the horse’s system. She had to hold the plunger and tubing over her head in order to get the leverage she needed since the horse was so tall. She worked until her arms were exhausted from holding them up. Then, without a word, Hunter took over.
They worked and worked while the owner held the horse’s reins. The horse was sweaty and his eyes were wide with pain. He stomped where he stood, trying to get relief. No gas was passing, though. One time he looked like he was going to go down and Hunter took over the reins, pulling at the horse until he came back to his feet. They both knew that if a horse went down with colic, chances of recovery diminished dramatically.
After several hours, there was nothing more they could do. They had to leave the horses and farmer behind to wait it out. It was a horrible feeling, driving away, not knowing if the horse would live or die.
Hunter hadn’t turned on the radio when they got back in the truck, so the ride had been silent for the hour-long drive home, both of them stinking of horse sweat and their clothes half-soaked with the water and mineral oil solution.
He’d pulled up in front of the clinic where her truck was parked.
She had opened her door and was about to step out when she paused. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”
Hunter just kept staring ahead out the windshield. “The horse or his owner?”
“Either. Both.”
Hunter shrugged briefly. “It’ll be a long night. It’s hard to say goodbye to the ones you love.”
She frowned. He said that like he had some experience with it.
“You getting out?” He finally turned her way, looking annoyed. “I don’t have all night.”
Her eyes narrowed and she held up her hands. “I’m gone.” She’d gotten out of the truck and slammed the door behind her.
She turned around so the shower spray blasted her face. God, she could use some ice cream. She’d grabbed a plate of steamed vegetables and some brown rice from the fare set up for dinner on her way upstairs and been proud of herself. Look how good I’m being. These pounds are going to keep flying off. Her fat pants were finally starting to fit more loosely with all the hard work and running around she was doing now.
But… ice cream.
She wondered if there was any left or if the boys had demolished it all already like last time. Mel shopped on Thursdays but that was no guarantee there’d be any ice cream left now that it was Friday.
She turned off the water and flipped her hair over to twist a towel around it. She dressed in record time, pulling on leggings and an oversized tee and socks. Then she jogged downstairs and toward the kitchen.
Maybe none would be left. Then there wouldn’t be any temptation. She’d already had her allotted sweets for the day. Two sticks of gum earlier. She didn’t need ice cream. That would blow all her extra ‘cheat’ calories for the week… and she’d sorta already spent them on Tuesday with the two Snickers bars she’d shoved in her face after an especially stressful afternoon of farm calls with Hunter.
It was fine, though. She’d just have one scoop of ice cream. If there was any. No big deal. Just a little something sweet to kill her craving.
She crept down the stairs, on the lookout for any of the guys. They’d all but tackled her when she’d come in earlier, trying to get her to sit and eat dinner with them.
They seemed especially thick about grasping the concept that she didn’t want to sit down with a bunch of fit, attractive men when she smelled like the back end of whatever cow, horse, or pig she’d been spending the afternoon with. Even when she wasn’t arm deep in the animal herself, she inevitably ended up walking away from the farms and ranches they visited reeking of animal, mud, and manure.
She got to the bottom of the stairs and heard the guys screaming at the flatscreen. It sounded like a game was on. She bit her lip and stepped even more lightly. The bottom of the staircase was visible from the big open den, but if she was really careful—
She darted from the staircase to the foyer, breathing hard once she got to the wall that hid her from the den. Oh thank God, they hadn’t seen her.
She opened the front door, cringing at the small creaking noise it made. But she slipped out and shut it behind her. Whew, she made it. She ran around the house to get to the back door. It was unlocked and she stepped into the kitchen.
Ah, and there it was, the industrial size freezer in all its glory. She threw open the door and then felt a rush of exhilaration wh
en she saw inside.
Ice cream, ice cream, and more ice cream. Mel had really outdone herself this week. There were all different flavors along with three large buckets of vanilla. She grabbed one of the buckets and then looked closer at the individual pints. There was coffee. Cookies and cream. Cookie dough—her favorite. Mint chocolate chip. Gross. She put that one back. Double dutch chocolate. Um, yes please.
Before she could think any better of it, she’d grabbed a spoon and had the tops off of all the containers. Then she was shoving large spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth.
She would just taste a little bit of each one. She hadn’t had ice cream in so long. And didn’t she deserve a treat? After what she’d been putting up with from Hunter? But even thinking his name made her cringe and take another spoonful of ice cream.
Wow, the cookie dough was really to die for.
She was smart. You didn’t get into Cornell without being smart. She bet Hunter’s first few weeks on the job he’d made mistakes too.
Yeah, but he probably knew enough to tie up whatever animal he was treating.
She jammed her spoon into the ice cream. The chocolate mixed with the cookie dough tasted even better.
And why was he so determined to ignore her and treat her like crap, anyway? Was it just that he thought she’d make a bad veterinarian and he didn’t see the point in even investing the energy to teach her anything? Or was it because she’d been so bad in bed that even the memory of their one night together was enough to put him off his lunch at the sight of her.
Not that she was ever put off her lunch. Just look at her. God, she’d eaten almost all of the cookie dough pint. All by herself.
There was no fucking point trying to fight it. She was useless. She couldn’t do anything right.
That horse she’d tried to help tonight would die.
She reached over and shoved another spoonful of chocolate into her mouth. Useless. Ugly. Fat. An embarrassment.
Failure.
Failure.
FAILURE.
She dropped the ice cream and ran to the side of the sink that had a garbage disposal. She leaned over, finger ready to go down her throat.
“Shit!”
She jerked her hand back at the last second as big, fat tears burst out of her eyes.
No. She was better than this, goddammit. She was—
“Fine, I’ll get it this time, you fuckers, but next time’s on you.”
Isobel stood up straight at the voice behind her and swiped at her eyes. Oh God, the last thing she needed right now was one of them to see her like this.
She stood up straight and was ready to make her excuses when a low voice said from behind her, “You doing all right, beautiful?”
She pasted a bright smile on her face and turned around, surprised when she saw it was Mack standing there. No wonder she hadn’t recognized the voice right off. The big, tattooed man rarely had much to say. He seemed to prefer glaring as his main form of communication. She never took offense since he glared at everyone equally and seemed perpetually pissed off with the world.
“I’m fine. I’m just putting these away and then I’ll—”
“You’ve been crying.”
She froze. Didn’t he know it was rude to blurt things like that out? But he just stood there, staring at her and frowning.
“Is there someone’s face I need to go bash in?”
That made her crack a a real smile. She shook her head. She looked past him at the ice cream and felt her face heat with shame. They were all probably melting like crazy. She needed to get them back in the freezer but she didn’t want to do it in front of Mack. Surely he had to wonder why she had so many containers open all at once. It was a freak thing to do. She was a freak.
But before she could decide what to do, he walked over to the containers. “You finished or do you want me to scoop you a bowl?”
Her cheeks were on fire. “I’m done,” she managed to squeak. Then she ran over and tried to push him out of the way with her shoulder. “But I’ll get these. You just go on with whatever it was you came in here for. I didn’t mean to—”
“A couple of us were thinking of going out to Bubba’s. You’re gonna come out with us.” He said it as a statement.
She looked up at him—he was over a foot taller than her. She paused where she was putting the lid on the cookies and cream.
“I am, am I?”
He nodded, his dark eyes alight. Wow, she didn’t know he had an expression other than the glare, but there it was. He seemed amused by her. All he said was, “You are.”
She felt like cocking a hand on her hip but instead she just went back to the ice cream. “And why would I do that?” She grabbed several containers and opened the freezer to put them back.
“Because you need to do something other than work. It’s important. Socializing and shit.”
She laughed again, closing the freezer door and looking at him. Did he realize the irony of him telling her she should be socializing? “Socializing and shit?”
He gave a decisive nod. “It’ll be good for you.” He took the last big bucket of ice cream and slid past her, his hand brushing hers as he opened the freezer.
She took a step back. “Is this— Are you trying to flirt with me?”
He laughed, a deep, glorious bass, and she didn’t know whether to be insulted or not. When he closed the freezer, he leaned in, one hand on the cabinet over her head. “Oh honey, if I ever decide to flirt with you, you’ll know it.”
She sucked in a breath. Damn, the man was pure sin and sex when he wanted to be.
He pulled back and nodded. “Now go on upstairs and put on something tight and sexy. We’re leaving in fifteen. You’re gonna drink some tequila, let loose, and have some fuckin’ fun tonight.”
“Doctor’s orders?” She arched an eyebrow.
He grinned that sexy grin of his again. “You bet your ass.”
She just shook her head at him and left the kitchen. The other guys called out to her as she walked through the den and she smiled and waved back.
She considered just going upstairs and tucking herself in bed with her e-reader. But then she thought about how Mack had distracted her from how miserable she’d been feeling moments before he’d come in the kitchen. If she stayed home tonight, she’d just retreat back in her head and get all stupid and self-involved again.
So, with that in mind, she walked to her closet and shoved aside all the practical, farm-worthy clothes and pulled one of the few dresses she’d brought off its hanger. She breathed out and bit her bottom lip as she undressed and then pulled the slinky black dress over her head.
When she’d ordered her work boots off Mel’s Amazon account, she’d also used the opportunity to order all the basics she might need. On impulse, she’d used the last of her money to throw a cute little pair of strappy black pumps into her cart.
She slipped them on and they fit perfectly. She went to the bathroom and tried not to look at herself too closely. She leaned in just long enough to apply some mascara and lipstick. She hesitated only a second before choosing her siren red lipstick. Because why the hell not? She was going to go have fun, dammit.
She rubbed her lips together and then popped them. She stood up, allowing herself one look at the full effect. Her hair was mostly dry and not too much of a disaster. She pulled it up and looked at her face left and right, puckering her mouth.
And for once… the woman reflected back at her actually looked sort of… pretty.
She spun away from the mirror, shaking her head at the strange thought. Grabbing her purse, she opened her door.
Well, here went nothing.
Chapter 12
HUNTER
Hunter scrubbed a towel through his damp hair as the microwave beeped. He tossed his towel on one of the chairs at his dining room table as he went to retrieve his food. A real dinner of champions. Microwaved beef lo mein. Oh yeah, he was living the life.
“Ow, shit.” He dropped the
steaming hot tray to the counter, then shook out his stinging hand. He grabbed a kitchen towel and used that to hold it still while he peeled back the lid. More steam erupted and he grabbed a fork.
It was pretty tasteless shit but nobody bought Mr. Foo’s Instant Beef Lo Mein if they were looking for an amazing culinary experience. He stood at the counter and wolfed down the food as fast as he could without burning his mouth.
He was done with it all too fast. He looked at the clock. 9:00. He ran a hand through his damp hair and looked around his empty cabin.
Late evening was always the worst time of day.
He tossed his empty food container in the trash, grabbed a cold beer, then headed for the living room. Flipping through the channels was less than inspiring. Red-faced people bitching about politics. Stupid reality TV shit. Who’d be next to be voted off the yacht? Here’s an idea—anybody pretentious enough to be on a show called Hot for the Yacht.
Next. He finally came across a baseball game.
He settled in to watch. He’d already missed half of it and while usually a game was enough to distract him from shit well enough, today he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of a certain dark-haired beauty.
Isobel had given it her all today with the colicky horse. He could see how upset she’d been when they’d left without being able to give a positive prognosis. She might be a city girl but she did have a way with animals. He’d peeked in on her at the clinic a few times—just to make sure she wasn’t screwing up his practice. But she’d been doing great each time. Treating both the animals and their human owners with compassion, intelligence, and understanding.
He tipped his head back on the couch and took a long swallow of beer.
Truth was, what had seemed so simple—trying to alienate her so she’d leave quicker—was turning out to be much more difficult than he’d bargained for. Not to mention he hadn’t counted on feeling like such an asshole about the whole thing.
Which was bullshit. He was the one in the right.
