Page 13 of The Geography of Happiness

I cocked a brow. “Name one.”

Connor sniggered and Matt slapped the kid playfully up the back of his head. “You think that’s funny?”

Connor shook his head while biting back another laugh. “Absolutely not.”

Matt grinned. “Just as I thought.” Then his hand shot into the air and he exclaimed, “Bessie Carnegie.”

Connor and I stared blankly at him.

Matt waggled his brows. “You asked for the name of one female who finds me scintillating company and I give you Bessie Carnegie.”

“Oh my god.” Connor broke into open laughter.

“Matt, my dear man.” I fought the urge to join Connor having hysterics in the corner. “As much as we totally understand Bessie’s obsession with you, Carnegie’s prize Angus heifer doesn’t really meet the brief.”

Matt straightened his shoulders and stabbed an accusatory finger my way. “That’s bovine discrimination and I expected better of you. Bessie even runs to greet me when she sees me coming, right, Connor?”

Connor was laughing too hard to do more than snort and nod when I whisper-shouted, “Tell Sonja I’ll handle all the Carnegie Station calls from now on.” Which only set the poor lad off again.

Matt pouted. “Now you’re just being mean. But speaking of Carnegies, Dirk just called. He’s got a heifer down with bloat and I was just heading out to go see them. I might call in on Bessie while I’m there.”

Connor almost choked, holding his sides and leaning against the wall for support.

“You’re an idiot.” I threw a dressing pack at my partner, which he deftly ducked. “Go on, get out of here, and you can take Connor with you. I’ll handle the damn walk-in.”

Matt clapped Connor on the back. “I’ll see you in the truck in ten.”

“Will do.” Connor turned to me. “You want me to put the guy in treatment one?”

“Thanks. Do you know what it’s about?” I walked to the basin to wash my hands.

Connor shrugged. “Some out-of-towner with a stray dog he found at the supermarket.”

I groaned. Just what I needed. Well-meaning tourists came with their own set of problems, not the least of which often included leaving without fully covering their bills. “Fine. Show him into treatment one and make sure there’s a cage ready out back. Ten to one we get stuck with the poor dog.”

“Will do. Here you go.” Connor grabbed a dustcoat from the peg by the door and threw it my way.

My clothes rarely stayed clean past midday, dustcoat or not, but God loves a trier, right? I slipped it on, then made the mistake of checking my reflection in the mirror and...Jesus Christ.I spent a fruitless few seconds trying to tame my disobedient hair before heading to treatment one where a slightly built man was leaning over the examination table with his arms wrapped protectively around a small dog.

Unaware of my presence, he was cooing softly to the animal who was staring back at him with something close to adoration. A smile spread over my face and I checked my pissy mood. Moments like those were much needed reminders of why I became a vet in the first place, especially when I was armpit deep in a heifer’s arse. I rapped my knuckles gently on the open door and strolled into the room.

“Jeez.” The man spun around, colour rushing into his pretty cheeks. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

I almost fell over my feet in instant recognition because there was no mistaking who was standing in front of me. The man was a fair bit shorter than me, younger too—around thirty if I had to guess, although it was hard to tell because there was an aura of no-bullshit maturity about him that the majority of guys around that age often lacked, big time. Dressed in dark slim-fit jeans, Nikes, and a cream lightweight jersey, he had dirty blond hair in a modern choppy style, a slightly aquiline nose, a strong, clean-shaven jaw, and eyes the colour of Lake Tekapo under a clear sky—eyes I’d obsessed about ever since I’d met the man the day before.

“Sorry.” I blinked and gathered my wits, circling the examination table to the opposite side. “Pretty cute distraction you’ve got there.” I indicated the dog and the man’s blush intensified.

“He certainly is.” Terry observed the pup with a sappy grin that only added to his attraction.

“So, it’s a boy, huh?” I stood back and eyed the pup, who looked unkempt and thin, but not dangerously so.

He nodded. “Unless things have changed since I last looked.”

I chuckled. “It’s Terry, right? We met at Miller Station yesterday? You had your daughter with you. Hannah?”

He nodded. “Yes. Fourteen going on twenty. And you’re Spencer. When I saw the Oakwood Veterinary, I figured it was yours. It was on the door of your ute.”

Fourteen?The guy had to be older than I thought. “Oh, right,” I said blankly, shaking myself free of those gorgeous eyes. “Well, it’s nice to meet you again, Terry.” I offered my hand, enjoying the warm dry clasp of his fingers around mine. Then somewhere around the way-too-long-to-be-comfortable-stage, he tugged gently, and I remembered to let go. “Sorry.” I winced. “That was weird, wasn’t it?”

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