Bear pointed to his cheek. “I didn’t peg you for the fighting type.” He shared a chuckle with Rusty who looked like the fighting type. Luke wondered if cooking could really build arms like that or if Rusty took apart the wharf at night and put it back together.
Luke probed his cheek with his fingertips. He’d left off using the trimmer, but the bruise was up high enough that his facial hair couldn’t cover it. “I’m not. I never took a swing.”
“Oh man! That’s harsh.” Bear wiped off the counter as he talked. “If you want, Rusty can give you some lessons. He used to box before we opened this place.”
Rusty lifted his spatula and spoke through the open window. “You have to get your arms up—protect your face—don’t get distracted.”
An image of Becca in that sweet dress with the sunset brushing her shoulders filled Luke’s head. She’d been distracting, all right.
Bear snapped his fingers in front of Luke’s face. “Oh man. It’s a woman. Who is she? We’ll put in a good word for you—let her know you’re tougher than you look.”
Luke swatted him away. “Don’t bother. She’ll probably never go out with me again, so it’s not worth your time.”
“You never know,” said Bear. “We hold a lot of sway around these parts.”
Lucas started in on his second taco. “Yeah?”
Bear stopped wiping and leaned against the counter. “Yeah. Who is she?”
Luke shrugged. “Becca.”
Bear and Rusty simultaneously frowned. “Becca Lee?” asked Rusty as he cracked his knuckles. “You put Little Becca in danger.” He slammed his fist down on the other side of the window and glass rattled.
Luke blinked. “She wasn’t in danger. I got sucker punched at dinner.”
Bear slapped his palm against the counter. “You were the guy at Moby Dick’s last night?”
Luke wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “I see word travels fast at the end of the world.”
“Yeah, we heard about it this morning.” He sized up Luke. “You don’t look like you had to go to the hospital.”
Well aware of how a truth could be cut in half and multiplied by ten, Luke rolled his eyes. “As you can see, it’s just the one small bruise.”
Bear leaned close. “It’s not that small.”
Luke pulled back before Bear could start poking at him. “Don’t worry, Becca took good care of me.”
This time Rusty slammed his hand against the glass making both Luke and Bear jump. “Do NOT disrespect Becca-Boo.”
“What?” Luke wondered why it was all of a sudden so hot. “I didn’t mean it like that. She put cold water and ice on my face.”
Rusty’s palm slid down the glass as his temper cooled. He finally nodded. “See this scar?” He pressed his forearm against the window, revealing a line that went from his wrist to his elbow. “Caught myself with a fishing hook. Becca stitched me up right there on the boat.”
Bear lifted his pant leg, revealing a perfectly healthy, if not hairy, limb. “Cracked my leg on a longboard. Becca set it for me.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “You guys know she’s a vet, not a doctor, right?”
“Yeah, but it was just a crack, and I could still walk on it, and Rusty hates doctors. He was going to wrap it with duct tape and call it good.”
“We’re not the only ones. That girl scatters sunshine.”
Luke grinned, grateful to finally have a description for the way Becca made him feel. She scattered sunshine. No wonder he craved her.
Bear leaned in to take Luke’s empty plate. “Look, man, I like you and all, but if you mess with Becca’s heart, I’ll invite Rusty out of the kitchen.”
Rusty nodded his beefy head.
Luke shook his head. “Don’t worry. After last night, I doubt she’ll ever want to speak to me again.”
Bear grunted as if he completely approved of the plan.
13
Mondays were busy days at the clinic. Not wanting to pay emergency room prices, owners often held off treatment until Monday morning when they flooded the waiting room with worried looks. Madison tried not to book regular appointments in the morning for that very reason, yet there always seemed to be an exception or two.
For the first time in her life, Becca had wanted to stay home from work. After running through the rain hand-in-hand with Luke, Becca had thought of little else. Their kiss on the wharf had taken away any doubts in Becca’s mind about Luke’s character. The man had lain on a live grenade for his family. Dedication and loyalty like that were hard to come by in a guy. She’d felt safer in the middle of a storm with her hand in his than she did curled up in her berth. It was no wonder that she’d spent every spare minute reliving the feel of his arms about her and his hot and salty kisses. Sighing, she pushed open the exam room door to meet her first patient.
The purebred Pomeranian puppy on the counter in Exam Room 3 was one of those exceptions. As a first time patient, the pup was doing pretty well. He was playful, yet, still pliable, and Becca was impressed with his temperament.
The owner, a middle-aged woman with two toddlers in tow, took notes on her iPhone as Becca talked about feedings and shots. “He’s a good little pup.” Becca lifted his cheek to check his teeth. “Lots of energy is normal. He’ll play hard and sleep hard.”
“Wait—he?” asked the owner. Her fingers hovered over her phone.
Becca nodded. “Yes, he.” She smiled at the two youngsters who were watching her movements. They had on matching T-shirts and shorts, although one was a full head taller than the other.
“It can’t be a he. We specifically bought a female from the breeder.”
Becca gently rolled the puppy onto its back and checked again. “Yep. It’s a boy.”
“Are you sure?” asked the woman.
Becca bit back a smile. “Yep. I’m sure.”
The woman folded her arms. “The breeder assured me it was a girl.”
Becca cleared the laughter from her voice. The woman had two sons, so she obviously knew the qualifications for determining the sex of an animal. Besides, Becca wasn’t ready to give an anatomy lesson in front of the kids. “I can promise you, it’s a boy,” said Becca, pleased that she hadn’t laughed while she said it.
The woman narrowed her eyes. “I’d like a second opinion.”
Becca opened the door and leaned out. Carson came out of the exam room across the hall. Just in time. “Hey,” she whispered, “Got a minute?” Smiling, Becca motioned him over and let the door shut behind her. “We need a second opinion.”
Carson furrowed his brow. Usually it was him asking Becca for a second opinion. “O-kay.”
Becca stared at him for a minute. Something was different. “Did you wax your eyebrows?”
“No,” Carson snapped. His hands went to his forehead.
Becca tipped her head in question.
“Maybe.” He dropped his arms.
She laughed.
The door popped open and the owner leaned out. “She’s not telling you what to say, is she?”
Carson held up his hands. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”
The woman came out into the hallway with the puppy in her arms. “Without asking Dr. Lee, tell me if this is a girl or a boy.” She shoved the animal into Carson’s arms.
Carson shook his head, probably wondering if he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. He checked the dog and pronounced happily, “Boy.”
The owner cursed and wrenched the dog out of his hands. “I don’t believe you.” She poked her head back into the room. “We’re leaving.” The kids followed her out the front door.
Becca pressed her lips tightly together to keep in her laughter until the door swung shut.
Carson grunted. “Did I say something wrong?”
Giggling, Becca shook her head. “Don’t worry, she didn’t believe me either.”
“But you are the vet.”
“I know.” Becca shrugged. “She’ll figure it out, eventually.” Hopefu
lly she could stud the dog out and make some money. Or she could sell him. There were options in the world for a purebred animal. Options animals like Big Red didn’t have.
“Hey, that lady didn’t pay,” said Madison from the waiting room.
Still chuckling, Becca called back. “It’s okay.” In a quieter voice, she told Carson, “She didn’t get the shots, so it was just time, and the entertainment was worth an appointment slot.”
Just as she was about to head into the next room, a man rushed through the door holding his cat. He spied Becca and ran straight to her despite Madison’s attempts to get him to check in at the desk. “You’ve got to help Prussia—I think she’s going blind.” He swiped a tear away and then wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand.
Instantly concerned, Becca asked, “What seems to be the trouble?”
Shaking, the story tumbled out of the man. “I usually keep her inside. I mean, she’s an indoor cat and she doesn’t even go out to go the bathroom. She has a litter box.”
Nodding, Becca reached over and stroked the cat’s head. “Uh-huh.”
“My neighbor came over with some salmon he caught in Alaska, and we were talking on my porch, and I didn’t even think about the door being open, but Prussia must have smelled the fish or something because she was suddenly right there at my feet and her eyes had shrunk.”
“Shrunk?” asked Carson.
“Yes. I scooped her up and ran all the way here. Can you save her?”
Flummoxed, Becca ushered him into Room 1 where she snapped on a pair of gloves. Carson did the same while the man put Prussia on the table. She watched Becca, and Becca watched her for a minute. Using a pen light, Becca went back and forth on the tabletop, the cat tracking the glow. “She seems to be okay. Why don’t you hold her while I look into her eyes?”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do if Prussia couldn’t see. She’s such a good cat.” He scooped her up and held her close to his chest.
“She is a good cat.” Becca held the light off to one side and then shined it in Prussia’s left eye.
The pupil shrank, and the man whimpered. “It did it again. Poor Prussia.”
“Is this what you saw?” Becca shined the light in the right eye, and that pupil also shrank.
“Yes. Do you know what it is? Does it hurt her when you do that? Is it treatable?”
Becca shook her head at Carson who coughed to cover his laughter. “Sir, I think Prussia is going to be just fine.”
“Thank heavens.” He sagged with relief. “What do we need to do?”
“Well . . .” Becca wasn’t sure how to explain that he’d nearly caused himself a heart attack for nothing. “When an animal experiences a change in light, the pupil, or the black part of the eye, will shrink to let in less light. When it’s dark, the pupil grows. It’s part of the normal function of the eye.”
“So she’s not blind?”
“No. Prussia has excellent vision.”
Prussia purred as he scratched behind her ears. “I’m taking you right home, baby girl.”
“Right this way, sir.” Carson guided the man to the front desk. “When was Prussia’s last checkup?”
“I-I can’t remember. I’m so flustered. I don’t know what I’d do—”
“Let’s set up an appointment for a full exam and a round of boosters.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Becca admired the way Carson watched out for the animals and for her clinic. For that, she decided not to tease him about his brow waxing. Taking the file out of the holder next to the door, Becca scanned the information before entering the room. “Hello, Mrs. Woodward, how’s Gertie doing?”
“She’s feeling a little fowl today.”
Becca chuckled as she opened the pet carrier and Gertie the duck wandered onto the counter. “I’m sure Gertie will fit right in around here. Let’s get her fixed up.”
* * *
It should have come as no surprise after the day she’d had that Big Red was waiting for her on the deck next to the Salty Dog when she got home that afternoon. “Hey, buddy. Haven’t seen you for a while.” She swiveled her head to make sure the coast was clear before giving him a good scratch behind the ears.
Big Red plunked down and wagged his tail.
“Fine, I’ll feed you. But after that, you’re going to my clinic and we’re going to find you a nice, happy family.” Becca slid open her door and retrieved the small can of dog food, a plate, and a leash. The worry she’d had over this dog was finally behind her. No more scanning the parking lot every time she came home. No more looking over her shoulder around town or checking alleys. If she could just get Big Red some shots and time with Anthony in the grooming station, there were several clients who would love to have him.
Excited about the prospect, she hurried back to her patio and then onto the dock where Big Red waited. “It’s not much,” she apologized for the paltry offering, “but it’s better than seaweed.” Big Red waited patiently for her to open the can and slop the contents onto the plate. “Your manners have improved from the other night,” she commented, remembering the way he’d barked at her to get the food.
Big Red stood up on all fours, his eyes on the plate. As she went to set the food in front of him, the leash jangled. He backed up two steps.
Patience. “Come on, boy. The food is right here.” Becca moved away in an effort to appear less threatening and to give him space.
Big Red crept forward and took a tentative sniff.
“That’s right—it’s good stuff.” Becca waited until he was deep into the meal before moving forward with the leash.
Her stealthy movements were wasted because Big Red saw her coming. He scrambled, his nails scratching her deck as he bounded away. Afraid that the dog was going to encounter Sasquatch, she bolted after him, far enough behind that she hoped she didn’t appear to be with him despite the leash she clutched in her right hand. She didn’t have to worry, though; Big Red found Luke and was busy circling his legs.
Luke’s steps slowed as he got near. At the same time, Becca’s heart sped up. His beard was still shaped and his face was still swollen. His lips were also shiny, like he’d had something slathered in butter for lunch. She bet he tasted great right now.
Breathless, Becca said, “Hi.”
“Hey.” He half turned so his cheek wasn’t as noticeable.
Becca appreciated his shyness but wasn’t about to let him get away with it. “I’ve got some glycerin for that bruise.”
“Nah, it’ll be fine.”
“Cut the tough guy act.” She grinned. “You want it gone, don’t you?”
“Are you kidding?” He cocked his shoulder. “I can say I was in a bar fight.”
“A bar fight?” Becca scoffed.
“Moby Dick’s has a bar.”
She smiled. “I’ll let you have that one on a technicality.”
Luke shook his head. “Honestly, I can’t believe you’re talking to me. That had to be the worst first date in history. You should be running the other direction . . . and screaming . . . and waving your arms.” He threw his hands over his head and made his eyes go crazy-wide.
Considering the day she’d had, her date with Luke was pretty tame. “Well, dogs are pretty good judges of character, and he seems to think you’re okay.” She nodded to Big Red, who had fallen asleep next to Luke’s shoe. “I think I’ll take the risk.” She held out the leash and whispered, “Can you get this on him?”
Luke shrugged and leaned over slowly. The moment the leash jangled, Big Red was up and running again, sunlight bouncing off his coat. Jessica happened to open the gate just as he approached, giving him his freedom.
Becca groaned. “So close!” She’d almost had him, twice! And he’d managed to escape once again. “If only he knew that life would be so much better with someone to lo—” She stopped, diverting her gaze, “ . . . to care for him.” She took the leash back from Luke. “You want some chili?”
>
“Sure.” Luke looked over his shoulder. The dog bounded around a wall and disappeared from sight.
“I think I’m changing his name to Houdini,” said Becca as they made their way to the end of their finger of the dock.
“I call him Fido.”
Becca shook her head. “That’s so unoriginal.”
Luke shrugged. “I have a hard time remembering names, so a generic dog name stuck.”
“Really?” Becca opened the sliding door and cleared her purse off the table. Her boat wasn’t small, but it wasn’t the size of Luke’s boat. She kept minimal household items, and everything had a place or else everything would be all over the place. Her natural organizational skills came in handy living on the Salty Dog. “I would have thought your massive brain would have plenty of space for names.” She switched on the old dial radio bringing soft music into the cabin.
“Are you calling me big headed?” Luke asked good-naturedly. He stood in the middle of her floor. Becca found herself brushing against him at every turn. How could one man take up so much room? Not that she minded. Luke’s nearness made her skin tingle.
“No, I’m calling you smart.” She winked before pulling a saucepan out from under her sink and opening a can of chili.
Luke continued. “I recognize faces easily enough and remember facts about people like where they work or what division they’re in. It’s putting the names and faces together that gives me trouble. I had a professor explain that names are meaningless labels to many scientists.”
“Interesting. You remembered my name.” She turned to face him, and he was there, so close that if he took a deep breath she’d be pressed into the counter.
He ran his fingers lightly down her bare arm. “That’s probably because your name had meaning for me,” said Luke, his voice low and intimate. His gaze dropped to her lips. Becca caught her breath.
* * *
A loud buzzing screeched through the small space making Becca jump in alarm. Luke instinctively tightened his hold on her. They turned toward the radio with Becca pressed into his side.
The Reclusive Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance) Page 9
