Page 15 of A False Start
When I whip into the parking lot in front of the onsite vet clinic at Gold Rush Ranch, the dog is in much the same condition. I scoop him up, wrapping him in a towel from my back seat, and dart into the clinic.
Nadia is at the front desk, showing another woman something on the computer. Her face gives nothing away when she looks up at me.
“I need help.”
“What is that?” She points at the mess in my arms, confusion lacing her tone.
“I hit a dog.”
“Oh shit.” She shoots up instantly and hustles around the desk, brow furrowed as she pulls the towel away to peek at the canine. “How long ago?”
“Maybe t—nine minutes ago?”
“Nineminutes?” Her nose scrunches up, like she thinks I’m fucking weird. But I don’t care. I’m not going to stumble over the wordtenin front of her. “Oddly specific. But okay, at least you talk to me now,” she mutters as her eyes roll. But her hands are already reaching for him. She’s not wasting a second. “I’ll take him back. Let’s just try not to jostle him too much.”
Without missing a beat, she steps in close to me; her toned arms slide inside of mine, trying to replace my positioning without moving the stoic little dog.
“Okay, got him.”
She hits me with a terse smile. And then she’s gone. Leaving me with the light scent of sweet roses that I still remember from two years ago.
The one I haven’t forgotten to this day.
7
Nadia
The little doglooks like shit. He’s sedated because he was shaking far too hard to take a proper X-ray. I run my palm over his small skull while Mira takes pictures of the obvious broken leg. He’s in rough shape, in more ways than one. Yes, the leg is broken, but his matted coat is worse than I’ve ever seen, and when I get my fingers beneath that layer of wool, all I can feel is bones.
This is not a well-loved dog. He’s either lost or abandoned, according to Mira, who takes the entire scene in with perfect serenity.
The bridge of my nose stings and tears well in my eyes.
“Why are you crying? He’s going to be okay. I can fix this.” She stares up at the scans hanging on the back-lit board. The leg is shattered.
“I just feel bad for him.”
Mira shrugs with her hands affixed to her hips, still assessing the imaging. “I feel happy that I can save him.”
I sniffle. That’s one way to look at it. Plus, Mira is kind of robotic with some of this stuff. Seeing suffering up close still tugs at my heart strings. Maybe I’m projecting.
“Go tell Griff that the dog will survive but I’m going to have to amputate the leg.”
I blink rapidly and smooth a hand over the dirty little body.Poor baby.
“Then you can scrub in and help me.”
“Do you think he’s still here?” The guy seems like a dick. My money is on that he left to cowboy it up, or whatever he does.
Mira nods matter-of-factly, like there’s no question in her mind that he’s still out there, and then disappears through the doors into the surgical area to prepare. With just the two of us on site and it not being a scheduled surgery day, we’ll have to make do. It means we both pitch in.
I let my hand linger gently on the dog’s emaciated body, sucking in a centering breath before I head back out to the waiting area.
Mira called it. Griffin is still here, sitting in a chair, legs spread wide, elbows propped on his knees with his head hung low. All curled in on himself, like the weight of what he’s carrying on his shoulders is more than he can take.
His head snaps up, dark mysterious eyes meeting mine without flitting away. He hasn’t properly held my eye since that night, since before he knew who I was, and I find my steps faltering under the weight of his gaze.
He’s so fucking hot. He oozes masculinity. It leaks out of his pores and the effect on me is heady. There’s no doubt I have a crush on my brother’s friend. And I almost want to laugh at it.How fucking cliche.
