No More Mr. Nice Guy

by Amy Andrews

  And he had to keep it about that.

  Because soon enough he was going to have to let her fly free.

  “Why horses?”

  He blinked at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts. “What?”

  “Why did you decide to specialize in the equine field?”

  “That time I spent working at a horse stud in Spain when I was backpacking really cemented my preference for large animal work, and when a colleague of mine asked me to assist him at a couple of racing stables a few years ago, I jumped at it. And it’s just grown from there.”

  “Sal said you’re involved in some national strategy regarding Hendra virus?”

  The truck rattled over a particularly potholed section of road, and Mack battled to keep the wheel straight as the whole cab shook. “A friend of mind, Cathy, another vet, died after contracting it from a horse a few years back.” A familiar ball of emotion lodged in his chest as he remembered the utter bleakness of that time. Visiting her in Intensive Care. Her family at the funeral. “She was married with three little kids.”

  “Oh no,” Josie said, her hand crossing the distance between them and squeezing his arm. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” Mack was touched by her simple gesture of comfort. “I promised her husband, John, I wouldn’t let her death be in vain, and I’ve been pretty passionate and out-spoken about it ever since. So, I guess I was a natural choice for selection to the government steering committee. I’m about to present a paper at a symposium on our progress with developing the national action plan.”

  “How much longer until it’s complete?”

  “About a year. Sooner, if I have anything to do with it. The industry desperately needs it, and I don’t want to see another colleague put at risk.”

  She squeezed his arm again. “They’re lucky to have you.”

  Mack grinned. “Yes they are.”

  Josie laughed. “Nothing wrong with your ego, I see.”

  He winked at her. “It’s getting a pretty regular stroking at the moment.”

  She quirked an eyebrow as her hand dropped to his lap. “Like this?” she asked, her hand settling over his crotch.

  Fire streaked to his groin, and for a moment, he was tempted to pull over and do some stroking of his own. “Later,” he rasped, prying her hand off him. “Hold that thought.”

  “Oh, I will,” she purred. “I’m going to stroke your ego but good.”

  Consequently, Mable the goat was the furthermost thing from Mack’s head as he drove into the Curraby property five minutes later. And was soon even further when he got no answer to his knock and walked around the back to find a distraught ten-year-old Molly Curraby running into the house yard from the paddocks like she was being chased by a pack of wild dogs.

  She had her jodhpurs and riding helmet on.

  “Doctor Kennedy,” she sobbed as she spotted them. “Come quickly, you have to come quickly.”

  She reached his side and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward the way she came.

  “Molly, hang on…stop.” He dropped his vet bag on the ground. “What’s wrong?” he asked, a feeling of dread sinking into his bones.

  “It’s Bella,” Molly cried. “I was riding her, and we fell… Her leg’s br-br-broken.”

  Oh hell. The feeling of dread intensified. Bella was one of the Curraby’s horses. A gentle five-year-old mare they’d bought for Molly’s seventh birthday. A pretty chestnut who adored the youngest member of the Curraby family as much as she was adored in return.

  They were inseparable.

  “There was a hole,” Molly wailed. “She fell in it… We were cantering. We didn’t see it.” She looked right at him. “You can save her, can’t you? Please, don’t put her down.”

  Then she threw her arms around his waist and burst into tears. Knowing there was a very distinct probability he would have to put the horse down, Mack felt helpless in the face of the girl’s anguish. He looked at Josie to draw on her strength.

  …

  Josie’s heart squeezed in her chest at Molly’s distress. Mack looked equally devastated, which she figured didn’t say a lot for poor Bella’s prognosis. She didn’t know anything about horses, but as someone who’d spent five years as a school counselor, she knew a thing or two about kids.

  She crouched down to Molly’s level. The girl’s face was tear-streaked and muddy from the smudge of dirt on her face she must have gotten during the fall.

  “Are you all right, Molly?” she asked.

  “I’m f-fine. Had my helmet on,” she sobbed, letting go of Mack. “Daddy sent me up to ring Doctor Kennedy ’cause there’s no reception down there, and Mummy’s at the dentist with Jack.”

  Mack crouched down, too. “Where’s Bella?”

  “In the bottom paddock.”

  “Okay. This is my friend, Josie. I want you to stay here with her, and I’ll go down and look at Bella.”

  “No.” Molly’s cries turned horrified as she pulled away from Josie. “I’m coming, too. I have to be there. I have to be there. She’ll be fr-fr-frightened.”

  Josie’s heart twisted a little more as the girl broke down again. She knew. Deep in her heart, Molly already knew.

  Mack looked uncertain, but Josie wasn’t. It was wrong to keep Molly away from her horse. If today ended the way Josie suspected it was going to, then the little girl was going to need to grieve, and being there with Bella at the end would help the process.

  And Molly seemed like a mature enough child. Too often adults, in a bid to protect kids, forgot about their need to grieve as well.

  “It’s okay,” Josie said, rising to her feet, nodding at Mack to reassure him. “Of course, you have to be there for Bella. We’ll all go.”

  Molly wiped her face with the back of her hand, her little shoulders sagging in relief. “Come on,” she said as she took off back the way she came.

  Mack turned to her. He looked grim like he had in the truck earlier when he’d told her about the death of his friend. “I’m sorry. Are you okay to…?”

  Josie smiled and nodded. She didn’t know the first thing about the vet side of it, but she did know that Molly might need someone to lean on while Mack and her father dealt with the horse and her mother was out. She was it. “Of course.”

  They set off after Molly at a fast clip and had reached the horse and Pete Curraby, Molly’s father, in five minutes. Josie was well and truly winded when they finally stopped, and she made a mental note to make another list—a fitness list—when she arrived in London.

  Molly had thrown herself on the ground next to the felled horse, her skinny arms around Bella’s neck, reassuring her she was going to be okay. But even Josie could tell, as Mack examined the animal, that it wasn’t going to be okay.

  Bella was a beauty, her chestnut coat gleaming under the still warm afternoon sun. The shocking sight of bone protruding through skin was nauseating, and the noises of a horse in pain were disturbing. Sweat glistened on her coat, her nostrils flared, her breathing was erratic, and there was obvious panic in her eyes.

  Josie glanced at Mack as he finished his examination and saw the way he looked at Pete and shook his head. Molly saw it, too, and started to sob again, holding fast to Bella’s neck.

  “No,” she cried, looking at her father and Mack. “No, please… Please don’t put her down.” She stroked the horse. “I’m sorry, Bella. I’m sorry I rode you. I sh-should have s-seen the hole.”

  Her dad said, “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. Bella loved riding as much as you did.”

  But the little girl was crying so hard again Josie doubted she heard. Mack crouched down near Molly, reaching out to pet the frightened horse and crooning, “Easy, girl. Molly’s here, easy.”

  Molly looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “Please, Doctor Kennedy, please. I don’t want Bella to die.”

  “Neither do I, Mol,” Mack said gently. “But Bella’s broken her leg very badly, and even if it could eventually be f
ixed after months and months of immobility, she’d be in chronic pain. Do you know what that means?”

  She sniffed. “Pain all the time.”

  “Yes,” Mack agreed. “You won’t be able to ride her, and she’ll barely be able to stand. I don’t think Bella would want that, do you?”

  Molly shook her head against Bella’s neck, her eyes shutting as more tears, more sobs escaped.

  “We have to, Mol,” Pete said softly as he put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Bella’s your best friend, and we all love her. It would be cruel to let her live in pain.”

  “I d-don’t want her to be in pain.”

  “None of us do, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” Molly said after long moments, taking shuddery breaths as she pressed her forehead against Bella’s neck.

  Pete nodded to Mack, and he pulled out a vial of something from his bag and prepared it. When Mack was ready, Pete kissed his daughter on the head.

  “Why don’t you go up to the house with Josie,” her father said. “I’ll come up and tell you when she’s gone.”

  Molly shook her head wildly and became agitated like she had at the house, clinging hard to Bella’s neck. “No. I want to be here.”

  “Mol,” Pete said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that you see this.”

  “I want to stay,” Molly cried. “Please, Daddy. I don’t want her to be sc-sc-scared without me.”

  Pete looked at Josie even more helplessly than Mack had.

  “She should stay,” Josie said quietly. “She needs to stay.”

  Pete sat down beside his daughter and placed his hand on her back as he gave Mack the nod. Josie felt superfluous. She felt she was intruding on an intimate family moment, a complete stranger witnessing a raw moment of grief, and she wondered if she should leave.

  But one glance at Mack and she knew she couldn’t. He seemed wretched. Resigned, but wretched. He looked like the loneliest person in the world as he broke a little girl’s heart. It didn’t matter that it was right, that it was the only option, it had to take a personal toll on him, too.

  Mack had always loved animals, only ever wanted to be a vet like his father and his grandfather before him. He’d dedicated his life to making sick animals better; it had to cut deep to also be the one to wield the needle when he couldn’t heal.

  Suddenly, she saw a very different Mack from the guy who had bunnies, and other assorted animals, stay in the apartment overnight. She saw the guy who had to make tough life and death decisions.

  Which made her determined to stay here, by his side.

  Molly didn’t need her like Josie had thought she might, because her father was being an excellent support. But Mack had nobody right now.

  Mack needed her.

  She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. He looked at her with bleak eyes and then crouched down beside Bella.

  “Easy girl,” he said as the horse flinched.

  “It’s going to be okay, Bella,” Molly said, choking back her sobs as Mack prepared to inject. “It’s not going to hurt her, is it?” she asked.

  Mack shook his head. “She’s just going to slowly fade away, like she’s going to sleep. I promise.”

  Her small face crumpled, and she petted Bella’s neck. “It’s okay, girl. You’re going to a place where there’s lot of green grass to eat and p-plenty of room to run like the wind. I love you, Bella. I love you.”

  Josie’s eyes filled with tears witnessing Molly’s loss and grief as the majestic chestnut’s life drew to a very peaceful end. It was a relief it was over quickly and that Bella wasn’t suffering anymore, but Josie would always be affected by what she’d seen here today.

  That she’d never quite see Mack the same way again.

  He’d been her jokey fun friend forever, and more recently, her wickedly sexy lover. But now?

  Now, he was a decisive professional unafraid to do what had to be done to alleviate the suffering of an animal.

  Right now, he was a goddamn hero in her eyes, and her heart both filled and ached for him.

  They left Molly and Pete with Bella shortly after. There were things for Mack to do, and they both wanted to give father and daughter privacy. When they reached the house, Mack made some phone calls organizing for the removal of Bella’s body and then went and saw Mabel the goat. Linda Curraby arrived home during Mabel’s examination, and he had to tell her about the unfortunate incident and try and comfort her and a visibly upset Jack.

  Josie was amazed that Mack could do it all, could keep going, keep up the professional façade, after such an emotionally draining incident. But he didn’t rush away. He stayed on at the Curraby’s, waited for the removal service to take Bella away, and then sat and had a cup of tea with them, patiently looking at the photos of Bella that a broken-hearted Molly had dragged out.

  When they finally got back into the truck two and half hours after they’d arrived, Josie felt mentally drained. God alone knew Mack must have felt a hundred times worse. She turned to him to say something…anything. But as she studied his grim profile, words escaped her.

  What could she say after such a profoundly emotional experience?

  “I don’t know what to say, Mack.”

  “Nothing to say,” he murmured, his eyes steadfastly fixed on the road.

  “That poor horse. I—”

  “I really don’t want to talk about it…” He turned to face her. “’If you don’t mind.” And then he looked back at the road.

  She opened her mouth to tell him she did mind. That he should be talking about this stuff. But didn’t that just make her the world’s biggest hypocrite? Hadn’t she told him she didn’t want to talk to him about any of the Curtis issues?

  And he’d respected that.

  Why did she suddenly think he’d open up to her? They were temporary lovers, that was all. Sex-list lovers. They were rebound sex.

  Wasn’t that what he’d reiterated to Sal a couple of days ago?

  But as she looked out her window at the blur of passing car lights, Josie couldn’t help wishing they were more. Then maybe she could reach out to him. Maybe she could feel useful right now. If they were together, would he have talked to her about it? If he was her boyfriend, would he open up?

  She glanced across at him, and the distance between them in the cab seemed like a yawning chasm.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sal took one look at Mack as they entered the apartment and asked, “What happened?” Josie was vaguely aware of the aromas of garlic and roasting meat. She’d been hungry in the truck, but the thought of eating now made her feel nauseous.

  Sal’s glance darted from Josie back to Mack, and Josie got the feeling that Sal suspected something had gone wrong with them.

  Mack threw his bag on the nearby stool. “Just had to put one of the Curraby horses down.”

  “Oh, Mack.” Sal crossed the kitchen and reached for her brother as soon as she was within grabbing distance, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Which horse?”

  “It was Bella. Broken leg. Compound fracture. Totally shattered. A real mess.”

  Sal looked up at him. “Oh no, poor Molly. How’s she taking it?”

  “She was upset, of course, but she was pretty brave when it came down to it. She was there when I…”

  Sal hugged him again. “She’s a tough kid. She’ll get through it.”

  Josie was glad Mack was able to lean on someone—he needed that. And why wouldn’t it be Sal? They were closer than any brother and sister she knew, and they’d been through a lot together. They lived together, they worked together, and they were both vets. If anyone was going to be able to understand how Mack felt right now, it was Sal.

  But Josie couldn’t ignore the hot, heavy brick sitting right in the center of her chest as Sal soothed Mack.

  Because she wanted to be the one he turned to today. The one with her arms around him.

  “Josie was there.�
�

  The sound of her name brought her out of her pity party. Sal pulled away from Mack and stepped toward her, arms open wide. “Are you okay?”

  Josie nodded, shutting her eyes as Sal’s arms closed around her, feeling the strength and the warmth and the compassion in them, but still wishing they were Mack’s.

  Her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her. Their gazes locked. His eyes had dulled to a bleak winter green. “I don’t know how you guys do it,” she said.

  He looked away. “I’m hitting the shower.”

  Sal dropped her arms, and they watched him go, defeat in every angle of his body. Josie couldn’t stand the heaviness weighing him down. She put her foot out to follow him, prepared to do what it took to erase the last few hours.

  A back scrub, a rub down, a blow job.

  Anything to bridge the gap she sensed opening up between them. She was leaving in four days, and she needed him to know what she was feeling for him now was about more than sex.

  “Leave him,” Sal said, grabbing Josie by the arm. “He needs some time to mull.”

  “Mull?”

  “He likes to mull.”

  Josie frowned. Mack had been nothing but decisive the past week and a bit. He’d taken the reins, and she’d strapped in for the ride. He hadn’t mulled for a single second the night he’d dragged her into that alley and fucked her against a door.

  “He’ll be fine tomorrow. Promise,” Sal said.

  “Okay.” It didn’t look like he’d be okay tomorrow, but Sal knew Mack. And Josie didn’t.

  Not really.

  …

  They ate together an hour later. Josie did her best to keep a conversation going, talking about London and the email from the agency she’d received this morning about multiple positions available, and how thrilled they were to have someone of her caliber applying.

  Sal and Mack joined in, but they both seemed distracted, and she soon had a headache from carrying the conversation. It was a relief when dinner was over.

  Mack stood and picked up his plate. “I think I’ll have an early night,” he said.