Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology

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Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology Page 89

by Anthology


  "Yeah. Probably."

  I couldn't decipher what his tone was, but I didn't linger as it didn't help the dog who was still whining in pain. I headed into examination room one and gestured to the table when the man followed me with the dog in his arms.

  "Put the dog there, I'll ring my father to see where he-"

  "Sweetheart?"

  Oh, thank God.

  "Exam room one, Da!" I shouted.

  I moved over to the window and placed the puppy on a chair next to me. I turned just as my father entered the room. He was dressed in black slacks and a blue shirt that was rolled up to his elbows.

  "What happened?" my father asked the man who was standing next to the table.

  No introductions or friendly welcomes – he was straight down to business.

  The man shifted his stance. "I hit it with my car, I told you that on the phone."

  My father mumbled something to himself as he reached into a pocket on the side of the table and pulled out a stethoscope. He completely ignored the man and me as he went to work.

  "Can I get you anything?" I asked my father.

  He didn't answer me, just continued to check the dog's breathing. He got a mini light and checked the dog's eyes, ears, and mouth next.

  "No signs of head trauma... How fast were you going when you hit her?" he asked the man who had backed up away from the table.

  He cleared his throat. "Around thirty or forty kilometres... it wasn't that fast."

  Again my father muttered things under his breath. He felt around the dog's body and when he touched her left hind leg, she whined in pain and growled.

  "Is she okay?" the man asked.

  My father nodded his head. "I'll give her an x-ray to confirm it, but I'm sure the leg broken. We'll treat her and keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't go into shock."

  The man blew out a relieved breath. "I'm glad it's nothing serious."

  My father nodded his head.

  The man then rubbed the back of his hooded head. "I'll pay for whatever-"

  "No need," my father cut him off. "You don't own her so we'll take care of her. I'll scan her to see if she has an owner and if not, we'll take her into the shelter."

  I could tell the man didn't know what to say or do so he settled on nodding his head in response.

  My father's attention switched to me then. "Sweetie, I'll go in and get everything ready in the x-ray room, keep an eye on her until I'm back."

  I nodded my head to my father, but he was already out of the room. I smiled and shook my head as I turned and looked down to the puppy to make sure he was okay. He was still sleeping which blew my mind. Sleeping was all he seemed to do even with loud noises.

  "Your father isn't a man of many words, is he?"

  Why was his voice so deep and soothing?

  I ignored my thoughts and chuckled at his very accurate observation of my father.

  "No, sir, he isn't."

  "Well, thanks for coming here during the night..."

  He was fishing for my name and I mentally face-palmed myself for not freely giving it to him sooner.

  "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, my name is..." I turned at that moment to look at the man, and I saw he had pulled down the hood of his hoodie and was in the process of removing it from his body.

  I silently judged him for wearing it in the first place because it was hot as hell, but instead of saying anything I blinked dumbly as I stared at him.

  That first thing I noticed was the thick chocolate brown hair that fell into his eyes. He pushed the hair back out of his face, revealing his blue eyes. They weren’t just blue though - they were electric blue and oddly hypnotizing. His jawline was strong, and his were lips plump and pink. He had a splash of freckles across his cheeks, and they should have looked cute, but everything about this man screamed hot.

  Fuck. Me. Sideways.

  "Excuse me?" the man said knocking me from my thoughts.

  I stared at him, worried I said something out loud that I shouldn't have.

  "What?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "You were telling me your name, but then you just stopped talking."

  Shite.

  "Shay," I croaked then quickly cleared my throat. "My name is Shay Logan."

  The man nodded his head. "Nice to meet you Shay Logan, my name is Trace McCarty."

  Trace McCarty.

  Damn, even his name was sexy.

  "Nice to meet you, too."

  Very nice.

  I stared at him for a moment, and then looked to his pocket when it pinged. Trace took out his phone and tapped away at the screen, sighing.

  "Busy?" I questioned.

  He didn't look away from his phone as he said, "The busiest. I'm getting an early start for work tomorrow."

  I blinked. "It's the middle of the night."

  Technically it was already tomorrow.

  Trace did look up at me then. "Like I said," he winked, "busy day at work tomorrow."

  I looked away from his gaze and down to the lab whose breathing evened out as she fell into slumber.

  "She's going to be okay, right?" he asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

  I nodded. "She'll be just fine."

  "I'm glad."

  I smiled as I stroked the lab's head.

  "So, where do you work-" I cut myself off when I looked up and realised I was alone and Trace was no longer in the room.

  I momentarily thought my encounter with him was a dream because surely a man that stunning could only exist in a dream... right?

  The thought of him being make believe disappeared when I heard the noise of an engine starting up from outside. The sound of tires running over the gravel echoed until the car drove off and left the area.

  I blinked my eyes for a couple of seconds then sighed and looked down to the lab who was breathing evenly then to the puppy who was still snoozing.

  “Well, girls, I guess it’s just the three of us. Who needs a gorgeous man around any way, am I right?” I asked my companions, lightly chuckling.

  The dogs, of course, didn’t reply and it made me feel even more pathetic than usual for asking them a question in the first place.

  Damn.

  I really needed a boyfriend.

  Chapter Two

  "SHAY?"

  I popped my head out of the kennel I was cleaning and saw my father standing in the entryway with his hand on his hips. He was glancing around searching for me. I stepped out of the kennel and waved.

  "I'm here, Da."

  My father's eyes landed on me and he smiled and shook his head. "Your mother told me you were back here. I thought I told you not to come in today. You came in to help me during the night so there was no need for you at all today."

  I playfully rolled my eyes. "I'd just be at home doing nothing so I figured I'd get the kennels cleaned before the viewings later."

  My father groaned and pressed his hand to his forehead. "Today is Wednesday? Bollocks, I completely forgot."

  I snorted. "Why do you think I came in?"

  My father dropped his hand from his face and said, "Smartarse."

  I grinned. "I'm playing. I know you've been busy so I'm not surprised things are slipping your mind."

  "You're telling me," he sighed. "We're over capacity with animals. I pray to God we can get at least ten off to a nice home tonight. Knowing our luck, the inspectors will come around tomorrow and shut us down. You know that O'Callahan bastard is dying to put us out of business."

  Martin O'Callahan was a bit of an arsehole, but only to my father because they had... history.

  I grunted. "He takes his job way too seriously."

  "He only takes it seriously when he inspects our shelter, the prick."

  I laughed. "I bet you regret stealing Ma from him all those years ago."

  "Your mother is the greatest gift in my life after you and your sisters, and I didn't steal her, she found her way to my all by her sexy self."

  He gestured to his body, did a fe
w hip thrusts and pumped his eyebrows.

  I scrunched up my nose. "Da, that's nasty."

  My father burst into laughter but he didn't apologise.

  "Where is Talia?" I asked as I glanced around. I was curious to know where my eldest sister was. She was due to be on shift right now, but yet again she wasn't here when she was supposed to be.

  My father rolled his hazel eyes. "She was out last night, so I'm guessing she's sleeping off a hangover."

  It wouldn't surprise me, the Logan wild child loved to party.

  "I'm fed up with her slacking, she has to treat this like a proper job because it is one. I hope you dock a days pay from her."

  My father grinned. "I did, but she wasn't happy about it."

  I shook my head. "I can imagine the melt down."

  Talia was five years older than me putting her at twenty-five. My other sisters, Tatum and Sage are twenty-two and twenty-four. They loved animals and the shelter, unlike Talia who felt like it was a burden to work here.

  Tatum and Talia were both itching to work at the shelter full-time but couldn’t commit just yet. Their studies required their full attention. Our parents didn't want to stress them out with work when they had school to focus on.

  I loved the animals, but I didn't have the stomach to be a vet. Simple examinations made me queasy, and the sight of blood made me feel faint, so I stuck to caring for the animals' needs and helped with the shelter's upkeep.

  I loved it, every single aspect of it. I would happily do what I do forever – it was what I enjoyed, and it paid my bills. I found it was a win-win situation.

  My father pulled me from my thoughts when he spoke.

  "The lab from last night is adjusting well. Her hind leg is in a cast and she is in recovery room one. I gave her some pain relief medication to make her comfortable. The first few days after a break will be the most painful and I don't want her to experience that."

  I frowned. "Poor baby."

  My father nodded in agreement. "She has no chip either – I scanned for one but found nothing."

  Crap. No chip made it difficult for us to find a possible owner.

  I folded my arms across my chest. "We can check for missing dogs-"

  "She's malnourished and her coat is matted with dirt. She's been a stray for some time. She's around four years old so it's possible she was owned at one point, but she either ran away or the owners got rid of her."

  I groaned. "If the latter proves true, I hate those people."

  "Speaking of people," my father smirked, "the man from last night is in the reception area... He is requesting to speak to a Miss Logan. Your sisters haven't met him so I'm pretty sure he means you."

  Excuse me?

  "Trace is here?" I questioned, my tone a little high pitched.

  I suddenly felt like I was overheating and needed to cool off by diving into the lake five minutes away from the shelter.

  "His name is Trace?" my father asked in a disapproving tone.

  I fanned my face as sweat began to bead on my forehead and upper lip. "Yeah."

  He shook his head. "That's a stupid name."

  I unexpectedly laughed. "Be nice."

  "What's wrong with normal names like George, Richard, or even Harry?"

  I dropped my hand and shook my head, smiling. "Some people like unique names."

  "You mean stupid names?"

  I cackled. "You named me Shay, and my sister's Talia, Tatum, and Sage. You cannot accuse anyone of having a silly name."

  My father held up his hands. "Correction, it was your mother who chose your names. I just agreed with her because she was the one who had to push the four of you out."

  I continued to laugh.

  He smiled and waved me on. "Go on out to reception and see want the man wants. He might have forgotten something here last night."

  I really didn't want to go out there.

  With a groan I said, "Okay fine, but before I go I might as well give you my morning progress report. The animals are all fed and topped up on water. The kennels are all cleaned, and Tom and Mark are taking care of tidying the grounds. I'll get a few of them walked then I'll help with bathing when I'm back."

  My father blew out a breath. "You're a solider, darling."

  I chuckled. "I have my uncle and cousin helping, it takes the load off. Trust me."

  My father looked over his shoulder when my uncle called out his name.

  "James," my uncle Tom shouted. "Come give us a hand."

  My father nodded to his older brother then looked back to me. "I'll talk to you later, darling."

  He turned and walked out of the kennels and out to where my uncle and cousin were cutting out an area of rotted wood on the side of a structure that was built for our cats as a play area. It helped them with exercise and to build social skills. It was old and had to be patched up... half of the damn shelter needed patching up.

  I shook my head clear, wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my worn work shorts and headed for the reception area where my father said Trace was waiting. As I approached the door that led into the main building I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and felt it slam against my chest.

  I was so nervous about seeing Trace again because I was certain I was going to say something to embarrass myself. I blew out a breath and entered the reception area expecting to see Trace sitting in the waiting area, but was surprised to find him leaning against the reception counter laughing as he chatted to the overly friendly receptionist.

  My mother, the overly friendly – and sometimes flirty – receptionist.

  Bollocks.

  I briskly walked over to where Trace was stood, but before I could speak, my mother caught sight of me and a knowing smile stretched across her pretty face.

  "Shay," she chirped. "Hello sweetheart."

  I shot her please-for-the-love-of-God-don't-embarrass-me look and said, "Heya, Ma."

  "I was just talking to your friend here." She beamed and gestured to Trace. I think she sighed a little when she looked at him, too. I got why she would sigh - he was gorgeous after all - but I couldn't get past the title she gave him.

  Friend?

  Since when were we friends?

  "Oh, that's... nice," I said then shifted my stance and straightened my arms by my side as I was unsure of what to do them.

  My mother raised her eyebrows, frowned at me then looked at Trace as he turned his insanely chiseled body and undivided attention in my direction.

  Christ.

  He was unbelievably gorgeous.

  "Hello, friend." He smirked.

  I wanted to bite him.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips, cleared my throat and nodded my head in greeting. "Mr. McCarty."

  The corners of his captivating eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. "Just Trace, my father is Mr. McCarty."

  I flushed crimson. "Okay... Hello Trace."

  He continued to smile at me, but said nothing and it made me incredibly awkward. I looked anywhere but at his handsome face and found myself staring at my mother who was openly gawking at Trace like he was a Christmas ham that she wanted to gobble up.

  I wished the glare I shot in her direction was a laser just to knock her out of the freaky non-blinking stare she was rocking. It was humiliating – she was all but drooling.

  I cleared my throat – loudly – and got her attention. "What were you two talking about?" I curiously asked.

  "Oh, just this and that," my mother chuckled.

  The chuckle was so forced and fake I cringed for her, but I said nothing because I was too busy wondering what exactly was the 'this and that' she and Trace were talking about. I'd kill her if she was trying to force me or my sisters onto him. She had done it before with random good looking strangers so I had no doubt that she would do it again if she got the chance.

  "Oh, right," I replied and looked around the reception area with keen interest.

  "Can I talk to you?"

  Oh, fuck.

  I looked to Trace when he
spoke and in a high pitched tone said, "Sure."

  We both looked to my mother who was looking between us with a big – more like fucking massive – smile on her face. When her eyes landed on mine I jerked my head to the right indicating for her to take a hike. It took her a moment, but she got the hint and said, "I'm just going to pop to the bathroom to freshen up."

  I watched as my mother scurried away from her desk and down the hall towards the bathroom. When she was out of sight, I looked back to Trace and found he was staring at me.

  Don't jump on him.

  I swallowed. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

  "The dog from last night, what else?"

  I could feel my cheeks fill with colour, so I turned and busied myself with straightening up the leaflets on the reception counter. I did it to busy myself, but I also did it because the leaflets were messed up and I was OCD about keeping them in order. I was OCD about keeping everything in order.

  "I knew a conversation would be about the dog." That was a lie. "I meant what do you want to know about the dog?"

  Nice save, Shay.

  I looked to Trace just as he lifted his right arm and scratched the back of his head. He had on a light blue male tank top so when he lifted his hand to scratch his head, the mother of all bicep bulge formed on his perfectly tanned arm and it caused a pulse to awaken between my thighs. I instantly pressed my legs together.

  I wanted to strangle myself, but I couldn't help my reaction to the muscle porn, it was Trace's fault for putting it on display in the first place.

  "I just wanted to know she is doing. I've been a bit worried about her," he admitted and dropped his arm back to his side.

  Shows over, folks.

  My heart – and other places – warmed. It was lovely to see he had a soft spot for animals... or at least had a conscience for what he’d done.

  "You came all the way up here to check on Hazel?"

  Trace tilted his head as he gazed at me. "You named her Hazel?"

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Her eyes are gorgeous, a bright hazel. It suits her."

  "I agree, she is a beauty." Trace stared at me with unblinkingly eyes as he spoke and it gave me chills.

  I roughly cleared my throat. "So, yeah, Hazel is doing really well. Her left hind leg is broken, but we put a cast on it and have her on pain medication to keep her comfortable. She has been resting, but it appears it's just her leg that is her only problem. She will be at full health soon and then we can hopefully find a good family to adopt her."

 

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