Page 23 of Stunner (Whiskey Dolls 3)

“Not at all. You’re right about the sweatshirt. I had to trash it after I finished with the dog.”

I brought my legs up, resting my heels on my seat and resting my chin on my knees. “Speaking of, how is he?”

Owen reached up to massage the back of his neck, trying to work the tension out. “Good news is, he’s going to make it.”

I felt some of the tension I’d been holding the last few hours leave my shoulders. “Oh, thank God,” I breathed, slumping back in my chair as relief flooded through me. “I’ve been worried sick,” I confessed, placing a hand over my heart.

“Bad news is it’s going to be a long process. His leg was worse off than I originally thought, so I had to put pins in it. He lost a lot of blood, a broken rib punctured his lung, but I expect he’ll make a full recovery.”

I twisted in my seat to face him fully. “That’s a good thing, Owen. You saved him. So why don’t you sound happier about it?”

He chugged back more of his beer, his grip on the bottle so tight his knuckles were turning white. “I don’t sound happy because even before that truck hit him, he was suffering.” He shook his head in disgust. “Wherever he came from, whoever hisowner was, they didn’t just neglect him, that dog was abused. You notice he had a collar on?”

“No, I didn’t.”

I could have sworn I heard a low growl from deep in his throat. “That’s because it was so goddamn tight it was embedded in his skin beneath all the mud and filth. My guess, they had him chained up in their yard and just left him there to fend for himself. I can’t tell you the last time he ate more than the scraps of garbage he probably found on the street before he found you. The pads of his paws were completely raw and full of debris that caused a serious infection. I’m keeping him sedated for now. He’s sleeping downstairs, and I have him on an IV drip of antibiotics. Theonlything that saved that dog after he got hit by that truck was his sheer will. Not sure I’ve ever met a stronger animal.”

“Poor baby,” I breathed, feeling myself choke up all over again. “He’s been through hell.”

“He has. Which is why I gotta ask, are you in the market for a pet? Because that boy down there has already bonded with you. Don’t know if you noticed, but before I put him under, the only time he calmed was when he could see you. You’re his person.”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and bit down. A pet was something I’d always wanted, but while I was with Jackson, that hadn’t been a possibility. Since the wedding-that-didn’t-happen, things had been in such an upheaval I hadn’t given it much thought. Until now. But he’d seen me in that intersection and something about me had drawn him in.

“I guess I’m going to need to make a run to the pet store for some essentials then.”

He smiled, and I was insanely pleased I’d been able to take that hardness away. “You’ve got time, sweetheart.” Thesweetheartmade me even more pleased. As did thebabyhe’d offhandedly given me when he was working on my new dogearlier. “He’s not leaving here any time soon. I want to keep a close eye on him until I’m sure he’s stable enough. Then you can take him home.”

“Can I visit him from time to time?” I’d onlyjustmade the decision to keep the little guy, and already I hated the thought of having to leave him. Fortunately, I was leaving him in Owen’s capable, steady, tattooed hands, so I could deal.

He surprised me by reaching over and caressing my jaw with his long, rough fingers. The move was gentle and intimate and rendered me speechless for several seconds. “You can come over any time you want, Asher.”

Something about the way he said my name just then made my insides melt and my belly flip. My tongue felt heavy and thick.

“Uh... th-thanks,” I finally managed to get out.

“Not a problem.” He dropped his hand and twisted to face the view of the star-covered night sky beyond the black mountains that surrounded our little valley. I instantly missed his touch, the skin he’d just been caressing feeling cold all of a sudden.

I cleared my throat and lifted my beer to my lips, drinking deeply to relieve the dryness that suddenly took hold. “You were really amazing down there,” I said after a full minute of silence.

I couldn’t be certain, thanks to the muted light coming from the single bulb a few feet away, but I thought maybe Owen’s cheeks had taken on a pinkish hue and he mumbled, “It was nothing. Just doing my job.”

“That wasn’t just doing a job,” I countered. “You’re passionate about what you do, that is obvious. It was incredible to watch.”

He cast his eyes my way, but only for a moment. “Thanks.”

“How long did you know you wanted to be a veterinarian?” I asked, my curiosity about this man no longer something I couldignore. It wasn’t just attraction that had me wanting to know him. I was genuinely interested, and something told me the bits and pieces I’d gotten from Jackson hadn’t exactly been truthful.

“Hell, for as long as I can remember,” he answered. “I can’t recall ever wanting to be anything else.”

I curled up in my seat to study his profile. “What brought it on?”

He finished off his beer, placing the empty bottle on the table on his other side before linking his fingers and resting his locked hands behind his head. The ink on his biceps danced interestingly as he made himself more comfortable. “It’s funny, but I can still remember it like it was yesterday. I’m not sure if you know this, but my folks own and operate the pizzeria a few blocks away.”

I sat up straighter. “No way,” I exclaimed. “Your parents own Junior’s? I love that place!”

“Junior was my great, great grandfather on my mother’ side. When her grandfather came over from Italy, he opened the place and named it after him. When he retired, he left the place to my mom’s father. When Grandpa passed away, it went to my mom and dad, but before they became owners, they both worked there. That’s how they met, actually. Mom was working as a hostess when my dad was hired to bus tables. They’ve both been working there ever since. Anyway, when I was five, I was at the restaurant with my dad, helping him out in the kitchen. He’d taken the garbage to the dumpster in the alley out back, and this dog was nosing through the trash. It spotted us and took off running.

“I asked my dad why he was out there digging through the garbage instead of at home. He said it was because some people just didn’t care about animals the way they were supposed to. As you can imagine, it crushed my little five-year-old heart.”

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