Page 5 of A Little Christmas Jericho
Poor Daisy was still lying down, her face hidden under her paws because shetrulydid not do well with car rides.
"Okay, guys," I murmured, opening the back door. "One at a time. And behave please. I don't know if I can take much more tonight." I hefted Finch's carrier out first, the plastic handle digging into my palm as I spun on my heel.
And walked straight into a wall.
No, not a wall. A man.
Abigman. Broad chest. Solid arms, and a beard that looked like it belonged in one of those rugged lumberjack calendars that Idid nothave hidden in the back of my closet. My face smacked into his white lab coat, the scent of clean soap and animals hitting me all at once. I stumbled back, my heart hammering.
"Whoa there," the man rumbled, his voice deep enough to vibrate right through me. His hand shot out, steadying the cat carrier before it could slip from my shaking hands. "Careful, buddy."
Buddy.
The word flipped something low in my stomach. My face went hot.
I tipped my head back, and up, and up... until my gaze caught on blue-gray eyes beneath thick brows. He looked to be easily in his late thirties, maybe even older, but not in anoldway.
Oh no. This man was like a fine wine.
"I... uh... sorry," I stammered, clutching Finch's carrier tighter. "Didn't see you there."
His mouth curved, just a hint, and I had the suddenneedto see those lips tipped up into a full smile.
"Looks like you've got your hands full there," he commented as he looked past me at the zoo in my car.
If only he knew.
"You must be Jericho," the man rumbled, voice low and as warm as my favourite cosy blanket. He reached out a broad hand and easily lifted the heavier of the two cat carriers from my arms like it weighed nothing. "I'm Doctor Carpenter. Can I give you a hand with those?"
I blinked up at him, startled, my cheeks flushing at both the offer and the sheer size of the man now towering over me. He was giving offepicDaddy vibes.
Stop it Jericho!
I did not need to be perving over the vet that would be saving my babies' lives.
"Uh—yes. Please," I said, fumbling a little with the carrier in my hand as Murphy nudged me from behind, eager to get out of the car. "Thank you. They're always a bit of a handful when we come here." I gave an awkward little laugh, internally cringing at myself for being such a dork.
Together we wrangled the animals into the exam room. Murphy immediately flopped on the floor as if he'd been hiking for ages, and looked at me with a beleaguered expression as if he couldn't imagine I'd made him walkallthe way from the car to here, when normally he'd be begging me to walk for miles and miles and miles before he'd tire.
Brat.
Daisy continued to hide behind my legs as if her size didn't make it impossible, while both my kitties yowled in their carriers, clearly annoyed with me for their impromptu vet visit.
I set both carriers on the exam table, fingers twisting nervously together. I felt the weight of Dr Carpenter's attention and had to look down at his shoes before blurting. "Okay... so I get this is going to sound more than a little crazy, but I think... well, I think my boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend might have... well, he left, but not before he said some really awful things about my babies, and then we went for a walk, and came back and I put on my favourite jammies and then there was this note, and now I'm terrified he might have done something to them or their food before he walked out with his stupid painting and fancy pants shoes."
My words tumbled out, fast and breathless, my chest tight.
"They haven't actually gotten sick yet, or anything, but what if he poisoned their food, or... or left something dangerous around, and I didn't notice, and now it's going to make them sick. I know it sounds like I'm crazy and overreacting, but—"
"Hold on there, buddy."
The short sentence cracked through my spiral and my gaze jerked up to find Dr Carpenter frowning, but not at me. His expression was carved from stone, protective anger burning in his dark eyes.
"You're most certainlynotoverreacting," Doctor Daddy said firmly. You did the right thing bringing them in. We'll run a few tests, check their blood work, stomach contents, the works. If there's something wrong, we'll find it. And if there isn't, you'll have peace of mind. Either way, you acted like a responsible pet parent. You should be proud of yourself. You did good."
The words soothed my ravaged nerves in a way I couldn't give too much thought to. I might have also chubbed upjust a smidgeat Doctor Daddy telling me I did good.
So I liked being a good boy.
