Page 44 of Every Little Kiss
“I’ve got some treats in my pocket,” one of the other K-9 officers offered, but Ford shook his head.
“He wants something else. Don’t you, boy?”
Breathing nonexistent, ears like a periscope, tail frozen, eyes locked on the tiny pink ear that was sticking out beneath Ford’s vest harness, Bullseye gave a final bark and sat at Ford’s feet.
Ford tugged Lambkins out by the ear, and Bullseye went stock-still. “Okay, here you go.”
Bullseye looked at the proffered reward and threw his head back and belted out an argumentative bark, which echoed off the rocks and drew the attention of a few of the guys.
“Fine. Close your eyes, I give one distress call, then we’re done,” Ford said, and Bullseye dropped to his belly, placing his paws over his eyes.
Ford walked around in circles, crossing back over his trail several times to increase the difficulty, and then hid Lambkins in Harris’s pack. With another crisscross of the area, Ford came back to Bullseye. Adopting the pussiest voice known to man, he said, “Help me, help me, Bullseye.”
Bullseye sprang to his feet and, sniffer to the ground, followed the exact path Ford had taken, finding his prize in the pack in seconds. With the gentleness of a mother, Bullseye picked up his baby and proudly strutted among the men.
“What the hell was that, Daisy Doolittle?” Harris asked when Bullseye sat at Ford’s feet to groom his baby.
“What?” Ford laughed. “Us kicking your ass, or the sound of the gigantic stack of volunteer applications hitting your desk?”
“Shit.” Harris looked up at the sky, breathing heavily. “I’ll make the calls, but you’re running the meet and greet.”
While Ford wasn’t all that much of a department spokesman, he enjoyed working with volunteers and their dogs. Training dogs was a challenge that got him excited, and watching them deepen the bonds with their owners was rewarding. “As long as you give me volunteers who can be trained to help with basic stuff for Wagon Days, not a problem.”
Harris studied him for a long moment. “There will be a problem if you don’t honor the single-mom code.”
“Jesus.” Ford threw his hands in the air, then looked at Ty. “Will you tell him this is not a date?”
Ty grinned. “I would, but the only reason I’m here on a Sunday morning with you losers, and not at home with my smoking-hot wife, is because she’s at Liv’s helping her pick out what to wear.”
Later that afternoon, Liv found herself back down at the hospital, arguing the merits of her idea, while Kevin shot a hole through each and every one.
“I think we need to take a step back and reevaluate the situation,” he said, and Liv was surprised at the conviction in Kevin’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to flat-out reject her Wild West Roundup idea.
In fact, she hadn’t even filed the permits, and already she knew she’d made a huge mistake.
She’d spent most of the weekend in the ER, fielding patients who were all suffering from different ailments but seeking the same outcome—a say in how Wagon Days was going to be run.
Once word spread that the event was under new management, people wanted face time with the newest chair. Most sought assurance that the event would reflect the town’s history—or rather, each person’s individual interpretation of the town’s history—except Chuck, the butcher.
He’d come to talk about a history of a different variety—Liv’s dating history. Which ultimately led to his idea for a “How to properly dress a hog” demonstration, with Liv as his number one assistant. But since Liv wasn’t all that big on the idea of slaughter lessons as a first date, Chuck had left with his bouquet of hand-stuffed sausages and an apology on how dating a butcher went against Liv’s recently adopted views on vegetarianism.
Now Kevin was so against her Wild West Roundup that he’d brought his concerns to Nicole. “If her new ideas for Wagon Days fall through or flop, that would be Mobile Medic’s first introduction to the community.”
“It isn’t going to fall through, and there is nothing to reevaluate,” Liv said assertively, part of her confidence coming from having someone in her corner.
She’d forgotten how that felt. Her focus as of late had been finding her footing so she could stand on her own. And she still was. Only today, she had someone standing by her side, in a sense. A sweet and sexy someone who not only made her smile, but made her feel special. And took an interest in her goals. It had been a long time since someone outside of her peers had taken the time to understand what she was trying to accomplish. For herself and her family.
“I was elected to head up the entertainment for Wagon Days, and I am heading it up.” She looked at Nicole, who was leaning back in her chair listening to both sides as if she were the judge and jury. “You wanted to introduce the Mobile Medic and its team to the community in a fun and creative way, and this is the perfect opportunity.”
“The perfect opportunity is waiting until after we finalize the staff,” Kevin said, as if he considered himself a part of the biggerwe, “then visit the schools to promote health awareness and back-to-school flu shots and vaccines.” Kevin handed Nicole a flyer he’d taken the liberty to print up while Liv was cleaning up his exam room. “I’ve already cleared it with the superintendent, who is excited about the project and on board with helping spread the word about what we offer.”
She was also Kevin’s aunt.
“I didn’t think a van full of needles was the first impression we were going for,” Liv said, taking some ownership in the clinic’s future. “Kids are already nervous about going back to school. My proposal lets us meet kids at a time when they are happy, excited, and feeling good. Which means they’ll have a positive first experience with the clinic.”
“It’s a small detail that could have lasting effects on the way the kids perceive the clinic,” Nicole agreed, and Liv had to stop herself from grinning.
“True, but pledging our support to an event that I hear is a long shot to be approved would have a lasting effect on how the board decides to fund us,” Kevin pointed out.
