Page 34 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

Logan makes a strangled sound behind me, probably mentally drafting my termination notice, but I press on.

“See that guy?” I jerk my thumb toward Logan. “He's the best. I've watched him perform surgery on a snake that swallowed a tennis ball. Basically extracting a watermelon from a garden hose. But he can't help Milo without knowing what happened.” I grip her arm. “Take a deep breath. Then tell us when Milo got hit. How long ago?”

My bluntness cuts through her panic fog. She inhales shakily. “About twenty minutes ago. He slipped his leash chasing a squirrel. The car wasn't going fast, but?—”

“Good information.” I stand, maintaining contact with her arm. “Now we let go of Milo so Dr. Price can help him. Okay?”

She nods, finally surrendering the small dog to Logan.

After what seems like hours but is no more than forty-five minutes, Logan comes out of the room, rolling his shoulders. “He needed surgery to repair the internal damage, but everything went well, and he's stable now.”

Relief liquefies my knees into Jell-O. “So he'll be okay?”

“His prognosis is guarded but hopeful.”

After letting Milo's owner see her dog and convincing her to go home until morning, I collapse into my chair. The adrenaline abandons me, leaving me shaking and tired as fuck. I close my eyes, gathering enough energy to lock up without face-planting on the reception desk.

When I open my eyes, Logan stands before me with a steaming mug.

“Coffee.” He sets it on the desk. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks.” The warmth seeps into my fingers. “Sorry for the whole sit-on-the-floor thing. Not exactly from the professional handbook.”

He leans against the desk, closer than usual. “It was exactly what she needed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I get stuck sometimes. Like there's only one way to handle things.”

“And I never stick to any path,” I reply with a half-smile. “Drives everyone certifiably insane.”

“Not everyone.” His eyes capture mine. “Sometimes chaos is exactly what's needed.”

I blink, uncertain I heard correctly. “Did you just... compliment my chaotic nature? Should I check for a fever? Call an exorcist?”

His mouth quirks into that almost-smile that's becoming dangerously addictive to provoke. “Don't push it, Baker. Finish locking up. I'll take you home.”

I force my trembling legs to stand, placing the empty mug in the sink before gathering my things. Logan moves through the clinic, checking on Milo one last time, dimming the lights, and setting the security system.

By the time we slide into his car, the momentary connection feels like a dream, and we're back to our usual embarrassing silence. The dashboard suddenly looks inviting as a hiding spot.

“So,” I venture, trying to break the ice, “did Mrs. Moore work a long time for you?” It's a pathetic attempt, but it's all I can think of right now. If that doesn't work, I can always comment on the weather.

“Yes” is all the answer I get.

“Um, okay. How long?” Okay, it would have been better to talk about the weather then. “I'm sure she'll miss you.”

Silence. I roll my eyes, frustrated by the man behind the wheel. I mean, jeez, make a little effort, won’t you?

“It's pretty cold tonight,” I continue to blather on.

He shoots me a glance from the corner of his eye. “Yeah.”

I give up. The absolute silence falls again as we near my neighborhood. I don't live in the posh part of the city, a fact Isuddenly become painfully aware of when Logan draws the car up in front of my building.

I've always known it, of course. It isn't the first time I've seen someone sleeping on the stairs up to the entrance, propped up against the wall with an empty bottle next to him. And I can't deny I've noticed those rough-looking guys circling the cars parked on the street. But with Logan next to me, it suddenly all seems... worse. I have no idea what his neighborhood is like, but from the expensive suits he wears and the high-end clientele his practice attracts, I have the feeling he's not doing too badly.

As if these thoughts don’t make me feel bad enough, the expression on his face as he looks around makes it crystal clear how out of place he feels in a neighborhood like this.

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