Thomas cleared his throat, but joined her, making sure to keep an empty space between them. Not that it mattered. Annabel simply scooted closer.
He fought against the automatic reaction to lean back and rest his arm against the back of the leather sofa. Instead, he scooted forward and braced his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped together.
“I left Smiley at home because I wanted to be able to talk without any furry distractions.” She grabbed a large book from an oversize bag at her feet. “You don’t have to feel bad or think you’re not an animal person because the two of you didn’t hit it off. You just haven’t met the right one yet.”
His shoulders went stiff. “I never said—”
“Most people love Smiley, which makes him so good at being a therapy dog,” she continued, opening the book and laying it flat across her lap. “I started this scrapbook to document our training and all the work we do. There are a number of tests that Smiley had to pass before being certified, such as acceptance of a friendly stranger, walking through a crowd or sitting politely.”
Thomas cleared his throat. It then closed up completely when Annabel laughed and reached out, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “You’re a special case.”
Her heated touch seemed to sear his skin through the smooth material of his shirt. His fingers tightened against his knuckles until she released him. “Ah, that’s good to know.”
“Smiley was also tested for basic commands and how he reacted to being around other dogs, children and medical equipment and so on.”
“I’m guessing all the animals in this program are required to provide health records?”
“Of course. They have to be tested annually and maintain a good appearance. Grooming is a must.” She turned the page and pointed to certificates in both her and her dog’s names. “We passed every test with flying colors and have been doing this kind of work for the last six months. I document every visit we make, sometimes with photographs, as we are working toward the American Kennel Club’s Therapy Dog title. Smiley’s been to schools, group homes, clinics and nursing care facilities. Not to mention a couple areas here at TC General.”
Annabel gently brushed her fingertips over the pictures on the next page of a young girl lying in a hospital bed, her head covered in a colorful head scarf and Smiley stretched out beside her. “This is Isabella. She was the sweetest thing. When we arrived to visit with her she asked me if Smiley was an angel. When I asked why, she said she’d just dreamed that an angel was coming to take her home.”
Thomas watched as Annabel paused, pressing her fingertips to her lips, and glanced upward for a moment before she went on. “Her mother told Isabella she was too sick to leave the hospital just yet and the little girl said she wasn’t talking about their home. That the angel was taking her to God’s house. She died six weeks later, just days after her tenth birthday. That last week Smiley and I were there every day.”
He had to ask. “Why do you do that?”
She looked at him, her blue eyes shiny. “Do what?”
“Roll your eyes that way. You did it during the appointment with Forrest when I was discussing his surgery and again just now.”
“I wasn’t rolling my eyes. Not in the traditional sense.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m not bored or exasperated. You see, I tend to get a bit emotional, especially in some of the situations Smiley and I find ourselves involved with. It’s a trick I picked up from another dog handler to stop the tears.”
“It works?”
Annabel nodded. “My mom told me that tickling the roof of my mouth with the tip of my tongue will do the same thing, but I’m usually too busy talking—” She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip. “Well, I guess you’ve already figured that out.”
Yes, he had. What he couldn’t figure out was why he liked that about her.
“Should I go on?” she asked.
As if he could tell her not to. “Please do.”
Annabel turned the page and his gaze was drawn to the photo of a teenage boy holding himself upright on parallel bars, a prosthetic where his right leg should have been. “This is Marcus Colton. He lost his leg last winter in a snowmobile accident. Like most teenagers, what he did best was give his physical therapists a hard time.”
“Let me guess. Smiley changed that?”
“We were at the clinic one day when Marcus was being his usual charming self, demanding no one would get him to make a fool of himself by trying to walk, even though he’d been doing pretty well at his rehab for a month by then.”
She pointed to the next picture showing her dog sitting calmly at the opposite end of the bars, Annabel just a few feet away holding his leash. “Smiley allowed Marcus to pet him for a few minutes and then he went and sat there, almost daring Marcus to come to him.”
“And he did.”
“Not the first visit. Or even the second, but Smiley proved to be every bit as stubborn as Marcus. The boy finally relented and now he’s making great progress.”
She went on, telling him stories of senior citizens who had no one to visit them but Smiley, of the patients attending their dialysis sessions who welcomed the distraction petting a dog brought and schoolkids finding it easier to practice their reading when their audience was a dog.
With each story came more looks upward, a couple swipes at the tears that made it through and a sexy husky laugh, all of which struck a chord deep in Thomas’s gut.
“I’m guessing all of this is to convince me to allow Smiley to work with Forrest during his rehab, if my patient agrees,” Thomas said when she finally finished. “But why do I get the feeling you are looking for something else from me?”
“Hmm, now that’s a loaded question.” She closed her book, a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Yes, working with Forrest was my original plan. I still want to now that he’s home from the hospital and ready to start his physical therapy, but what I’d really like is to set up a weekly support group here at the hospital. One that’s open to any patient who wants to come, no matter what their illness.”
While Thomas still had doubts about her work, he found himself enamored of Annabel’s spirit. What surprised him even more was the fact he wanted to see her again.
And not just here at the hospital.
“I’m still not completely convinced, but I’ll agree to at least consider your idea.”
“Really?” Annabel’s smile was wide, her blue eyes sparkling up at him. “That’s wonderful!”
“There’s just one condition.” He could hardly believe the words pouring from his mouth. “You agree to have dinner with me.”
Chapter Three
Stunned, Annabel didn’t know what to say. Anyone who knew her well would say it was the first time she’d ever been at a loss for words.
Especially after she’d spent the past half hour hogging the conversation with a man who’d put those dreamy and steamy television doctors to shame. Without the standard long white lab coat he’d worn the last time she was here, his purple dress shirt and purple, gray and black striped tie brought out just a hint of lavender in those amazingly blue eyes.
Not to mention what the shirt did for the man’s broad shoulders.
He wore his dark hair short, but it stood up in spiky tufts on top, as if he’d been running his hand through it just before she arrived. The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw were smooth-shaven despite it being late in the afternoon.
Her breath had just about vanished from her lungs when he’d joined her on the couch, his woodsy cologne teasing her senses. Thank goodness she’d remembered the scrapbook so she had something to do with her hands.
Besides attack the good doctor, that was.
“Annabel? Did you hear me?”
She blinked, realized she’d been staring. “You want to go
out?”
“Yes.”
Considering how hard she’d tried not to sound like a sap with her endless chatter about the therapy dog program, Annabel now found it hard to put her thoughts into words. “With me?”
“Yes, with you. We can talk more about your program. Unless there’s a reason why you can’t?”
Was “too stunned to reply” an acceptable answer?
“Do you have a boyfriend?” His expression turned serious again. “I didn’t see a ring on your finger, but I don’t want to presume you are free—”
“No.” She cut him off. He’d actually looked to see if she wore a ring? “I’m free, totally free. Free as a bird.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
She nodded. “Yes, dinner sounds great.”
“Tomorrow night okay?”
Something to do on a Friday that didn’t include her dog or a sibling? Tomorrow night would be perfect. “I work until six, but after that I’m all yours.”
Thomas cleared his throat and stood, rising to his feet in one smooth motion. “Where do you work?”
“At the Thunder Canyon Public Library.” Annabel mirrored his actions, grabbing her bag and slipping it over one shoulder. “I’m the librarian in charge of the children’s area.”
He waved a hand at her scrapbook. “So, all the work you do with therapy dogs is strictly volunteer?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t get paid for any of my visits, other than Smiley sometimes getting a doggy treat or two.” She hugged her book to her chest, peeking up at him through her lashes. “But I love the work. The therapy program is one of my many passions, along with books and my family. I guess I’m just a passionate person by nature.”
His eyes deepened to a dark blue as their focus shifted to her mouth. A slight tilt of his head, a restrained shift in his body that brought him just a hint closer.
Her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips. She couldn’t help it. Not that she dared think he might—
Yes, she had thought about the man, probably too much, over the past two weeks. She’d been looking forward to this meeting for more reasons than convincing Thomas to allow a therapy group here at the hospital. One she would be in charge of.
Annabel could admit, at least to herself, she’d wanted to find out if the quivering sensations she’d experienced when they’d first met had been all in her head.
They weren’t.
“I know a great Italian bistro, Antonio’s, over in Bozeman. Where should I pick you up?”
She blinked again, breaking the spell the doctor seemed to weave around her. Antonio’s? A dinner there cost more than she made in a week. “Oh, we don’t have to go that far. Any place in town would be fine by me.”
“My treat, so I get to pick the place.”
His tone was persuasively charming, so Annabel simply rattled off her address. And her cell phone number. “You know, just in case.”
Thomas nodded, then gestured in the direction of the door with one hand, signaling the end of their meeting. “Until tomorrow night, then.”
Annabel stepped in front of him, sure she could feel the heat of his gaze on her backside as he followed her. She turned when she reached the door, but found those blue eyes squarely focused on her face.
“I’ll pick you up around seven?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”
* * *
She waited.
And waited and waited.
Palming her cell phone, Annabel paced the length of her bedroom, her bare toes scrunching in the soft carpet. Smiley lay at the end of her bed, watching her stride back and forth like he was a spectator at a tennis match.
She’d changed out of the sundress with its matching knitted shrug and into a cropped T-shirt and yoga pants an hour ago, kicking her cute kitten heels back into the bottom of her closet.
After she’d accepted the fact Thomas had stood her up.
She’d really been looking forward to tonight. Yes, the chance to talk more about her idea of a weekly therapy session with Smiley at the hospital was a big draw, but darn it, getting to know Thomas better appealed to her even more.
“It’s after nine thirty,” Annabel said softly, eyeing the clock on her bedside table. “Why hasn’t he called?”
Smiley offered a sympathetic whimper and lowered his head to his paws until a quick knock at her bedroom door grabbed his attention.
Seconds later, her sister popped her head in. “Hey! We’re about to start a Mr. Darcy movie marathon now that Dad has gone off to bed. You coming downstairs?”
Annabel gave Jordyn Leigh a forced smile, knowing the “we” she was referring to was herself, their older sister, Jazzy, and their mother, all of whom shared a deep affection for the beloved Jane Austen literary character.
As did she.
“I don’t think so,” she said. Not even Colin Firth’s portrayal of the dashing hero could lift her disappointment—or erase the tiny flicker of hope she still held.
“You know, Mom said she can’t believe the three single Cates sisters are all home on a Friday night.” Jordyn Leigh nudged the door wider and leaned against the frame. “Of course, you taking a pass on dinner tonight had us all thinking you had other plans.”
“I did.”
Her sister eyed her outfit. “Dressed like that?”
Annabel sighed and glanced at her phone again. “I decided to change after he didn’t show. Almost three hours ago.”
“Yikes. Hoping for the old ‘if I get into my sweats the jerk will call’ effect, huh?”
“He’s not a jerk.” Her defense of him came easily, even if she had no idea why.
Her sister frowned, but only said, “Why don’t you call him?”
Annabel had thought about it, but the only number she had for Thomas was his office. The last thing she wanted was to leave a pathetic voice mail for him to find first thing Monday morning.
“I don’t have his number,” she finally said. “He’s got mine, at least I’m assuming he does. I mean, I gave it to him, but—”
“But he didn’t write it down or put it in his phone right away?” Jordyn guessed. “So you’re thinking he forgot?”
Her number? Their plans? All about her?
Annabel didn’t know what to think.
“Well, you know where we’ll be if you decide to join us. Mom’s insisting we start with the black and white version of Pride and Prejudice featuring Sir Laurence, so you have plenty of time before our favorite Mr. Darcy appears.”
With that, her sister vanished and Annabel flopped down on her bed, immediately bestowed with a sloppy kiss from Smiley, who’d crawled next to her.
“Oh, buddy, what am I going to do?” She scratched at her dog’s ears. “Maybe I should go back to work. Goodness knows I got zero done this afternoon thinking about tonight. Or do I stay up here and drive myself crazy wondering why—”
An odd chiming filled the air. It took a moment before Annabel realized it was coming from her cell phone. Not her usual ringtone that asked a cowboy to take her away.
She sat up and read the display. Caller unknown. Her fingers tightened around her phone. One deep breath and she pressed the answer button. “Hello?”
“Annabel? It’s Thomas.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Hi there.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a no-show tonight.”
She released the air from her lungs, while the ache in her stomach that she’d insisted was due to lack of food eased. “Did you get lost?”
“I never left the hospital.” His voice was low and a bit husky. “I was called into an emergency surgery this afternoon and didn’t have time to try to get ahold of you. I didn’t expect it to take this long, but there were complications.”
Stuck at work. She’d never even considered that. “Was the surgery a success?”
“Yes, it was.” He sounded surprised. “Thanks for asking.”
“Are you still at the hospital?”
“Sitting in the men’s locker room. I called as soon as I got out of the shower.”
Trying not to picture Thomas standing in front of a locker dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel was as impossible as stopping Smiley from hogging the bed at night.
So she didn’t even try.
“You must be exhausted,” she said. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“I am, but it’s a good fatigue, sort of like a runner’s high after completing a marathon. I feel like I could run ten miles.” He sighed. “Not really, but that’s the only comparison I can think of.”
An idea popped into Annabel’s head, so crazy it just might work. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t have a chance to eat dinner either?”
“I’ll probably grab a burger at a drive-thru on my way home—wait, did you say ‘either’?”
“How about meeting me at The Hitching Post? Say in about twenty minutes?”
“The what?”
“The Hitching Post. It’s on Main Street in Old Town. You know the place, right?”
Silence filled the air. Annabel crossed her fingers. On both hands.
“Ah, yeah… I mean, yes,” Thomas finally said. “I know where it is.”
Annabel jumped up and began rifling through her closet. “Great! I’ll see you there!”
* * *
Thomas slowed his silver BMW to a full stop at the curb, surprised to find an empty parking space so close to The Hitching Post on a Friday night.
He’d never been here before, but he’d heard his coworkers rave about the local hangout. Once owned by a lady with a questionable past, the place was now a restaurant and bar, a modern-day saloon right in the middle of Thunder Canyon’s Old Town, an area that proudly retained its Western heritage.
A section of town Thomas rarely spent time in. Then again, he rarely spent time anywhere other than his condo or the hospital.
Puppy Love in Thunder Canyon Page 3
