A Valentine For The Veterinarian

About the Author

KATIE MEYER is a Florida native with a firm belief in happy endings. She studied English and Religion before getting a degree in Veterinary Technology. A former Veterinary Technician and dog trainer, she now spends her days homeschooling her children, writing and snuggling with her many pets. Her guilty pleasures include chocolate, Downton Abbey, and cheap champagne. Credit for her romance writing goes to her parents and her husband, who taught her what true love really is.

A Valentine for the Veterinarian

Katie Meyer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-04072-3

A VALENTINE FOR THE VETERINARIAN

© 2016 Katie Meyer

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

About the Publisher

Ean, for picking up the slack and never complaining about it.

My mom and my son, Michael, for babysitting the littles when I had a deadline and needed some quiet.

My agent Jill, for guiding me through the process.

And my editorial team, especially Carly and Jennifer, for finding my (numerous) mistakes and making me look good.

Chapter One

“Grace, you just saved my life. How can I ever repay you?”

The woman behind the counter rolled her eyes. “It’s just coffee, Dr. Marshall, not the fountain of youth. If you leave a few coins in the tip jar, we’ll call it even.”

Cassie clutched the cardboard cup like a lifeline, inhaling the rich aroma. “I had an emergency call last night, ended up performing a C-section on a schnauzer at three a.m., and then was double-booked all day. So right now your caffeinated nectar is my only hope of making it through the meeting I’m going to.” She paid for her coffee and took a cautious sip of the scalding brew. “You’re my hero.”

“That kind of flattery will get you the last cinnamon scone, if you want it.”

“Have I ever turned down a free baked good?” Cassie accepted the small white bag with the proffered pastry. “Thanks. This ought to keep me out of trouble until I can get some dinner.”

“Speaking of trouble, here comes that new sheriff’s deputy. I’d be willing to break a few rules if it would get him to notice me.” Grace craned her neck to see more clearly out the curtained front window. “Don’t you think he looks like a man who could handle my rebellious side?”

Cassie nearly spit out her coffee. If Grace Keville, sole proprietor of Sandcastle Bakery, had a rebellious side, she’d kept it well hidden. Even after a full day of baking and serving customers, she looked prim and proper in a crisp pastel blouse and tailored pants. From her lacy apron to her dainty bun, she was the epitome of order and discipline. Not to mention she was happily married and the mother of three. “You’ve never rebelled a day in your life.”

Grace sniffed. “Maybe not, but that man makes me consider it. Hard.”

Rebellion wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d been there, done that, and had considerably more than a T-shirt to show for it. She started to say as much, but stopped at the jingle of the door chimes behind her. Turning at the sound, she caught her breath at the sight of the intense man heading toward her with long, ground-eating strides.

No wonder Grace was infatuated. The man looked like he’d just stepped out of a Hollywood action movie rather than the quiet streets of Paradise, Florida. Thick, dark hair framed a chiseled face with just a hint of five-o’clock shadow. His eyes were the exact color of the espresso that scented the air, and reflected a focus that only men in law enforcement seemed to have. Even without the uniform she’d have known him for a cop. Sexy? Sure. But still a cop. And she’d had her fill of those.

“I’m here to pick up an order. Should be under Santiago.”

Grace grabbed a large box from the top of a display case. “I’ve got it right here—an assortment of cookies, right?”

“That’s right.”

“What, no doughnuts?” Uh-oh, did she say that out loud?

He gave Cassie a long look before quirking up one side of his mouth. “Sorry to ruin the stereotype.”

Grace glared at Cassie before attempting to smooth things over. “Deputy Santiago, I’m Grace. I’m the one you spoke to earlier on the phone. And this is Dr. Cassie Marshall, our resident veterinarian.”

“Nice to meet you Grace, Dr. Marshall.” He nodded at each in turn. “And off duty it’s Alex, please.” He smiled then, a real smile, and suddenly the room was too warm, too charged, for comfort. The man’s smile was as lethal as the gun strapped to his hip—more potent than any Taser. Unsettled by her instant response, Cassie headed for the door. It wasn’t like her to speak without thinking; she needed to get out of there before she embarrassed herself more than she already had.

“Let me get that.” He reached the door before her, balancing the large cookie box in one hand and pulling open the door with the other. After her own snide comment, his politeness poked at her conscience.

“Sorry about the doughnut remark.” There, her conscience was clear.

“I’ve heard worse.” His expression hardened for a minute. “Don’t worry about it.”

She wouldn’t; she had way too many other concerns to keep her occupied. Including the meeting she was going to be late to, if she didn’t hurry. She nodded politely, then made a beeline for her hatchback. Setting the coffee in a cup holder, she cranked the engine and popped in a CD of popular love songs. She had less than ten minutes to put aside all the worries tumbling through her mind and get herself in a Valentine’s Day kind of mood.

Alex watched the silver hatchback drive away, noting she kept the small vehicle well under the speed limit. Few people were gutsy enough to speed in front of a sheriff’s deputy—but then again, the average person didn’t spout off jokes about cops to his face, either. There had been resentment in those blue eyes. She’d disliked him—or at the least the uniform—on sight. He was used to gang members and drug dealers treating him that way, but a cute veterinarian? His gut said there was a story there, but he didn’t need to make enemies in his new hometown. He had plenty of those back in Miami.

A loud bark snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I’m coming, boy.”

At this point, he and his canine partner, Rex, were in the honeymoon period of their relationship, and the dog still got excited whenever he saw Alex return. Unlocking the car, he couldn’t help but smile at the goofy expression on the German Shepherd’s face. As a trained K-9, Rex was a criminal’s worst nightmare, but to Alex he was the best part of his new job.

He’d never expected to live in a small-time town like Paradise, had never wanted to leave Miami. But when he testified against his partner, the department had turned against him. It didn’t matter that Rick was guilty. Alex was the one they turned on.

He’d known that refusing to lie during his deposition meant saying goodbye to any chance of promotion. He could live with that. But when his name and address were leaked to a local gang he’d investigated, things changed.

Putting his own life at risk, that was just part of the job. Messing with his family, that was a different story. When his mom had come home one day to find threats spray-painted on her walls and her house trashed, he’d known they couldn’t stay.

He could still see her standing in her ruined kitchen, white with fear. She’d aged ten years that humid night.

Guilt clawed at him. What kind of son was he to lead danger straight to her doorstep? He’d resigned the next day and spent his two-week notice hunting down the scum responsible.

Then he’d packed up and looked for a job, any job, where he could start fresh without a target on his back. When a position in the Palmetto County Sheriff’s office became open, he’d jumped on it. Working with a K-9 unit was a dream come true; he’d often volunteered time with the unit back home. That experience, plus a stellar record, had landed him the position.

Having the dog around eased the loneliness of being in a new city and made the long night shifts required of newbies seem a little shorter.

Thankfully, his mom had been willing to move, too. She’d lived in Miami ever since she and his father emigrated from Puerto Rico. He’d worried she would fight against leaving, but she’d agreed almost immediately. Her lack of argument told him she was more rattled than she’d admitted.

And of course there was Jessica, his younger sister, to think about, too. She was away at college, but still lived at home on school holidays. His mom wouldn’t want her in the line of fire, even if she wasn’t afraid for herself.

Now Paradise was their home and all that was behind them.

As he drove down what passed for Main Street, he scanned the tidy storefronts, more out of habit than caution. The tiny island community couldn’t be more different from fast-paced south Florida. Instead of high rises and strip malls, there were bungalows and family-owned shops. Miami had a vibrant, intoxicating culture, but working in law enforcement, he’d spent his hours in the less picturesque parts of town. Here, even the poorest neighborhoods were tidy and well kept.

Of course, nowhere was perfect, not even Paradise. Which was why he was missing valuable sleep in order to attend the Share the Love volunteer meeting. The sheriff’s department was pairing with the county’s department of children’s services in a fundraiser, a Valentine’s Day dance. The money raised would be used to start up a mentor program for at-risk kids. Some were in foster care and many had parents serving time or were in trouble themselves. When the department had posted a flier about the program, he’d been the first to volunteer. He’d been on the other side of that story; it was time to give back.

It took only a few minutes to cross the island and reach the Sandpiper Inn, the venue for tonight’s organizational meeting. The largest building on the island, it often was the site of community events.

Pulling into the gravel lot, he was surprised to see most of the parking spaces were full. Either the Sandpiper had a lot of midweek guests or the meeting was going to be larger than he’d expected.

He grabbed the box on the passenger seat and left the engine running, thankful for the special environmental controls that kept things safe for his furry partner. Late January in Florida tended to be mild, but could sometimes still hit dangerous temperatures. “Sorry, buddy, but I think this is a human-only kind of thing.”

Rex grumbled but settled down, his big head resting on his paws when Alex locked the car.

“Are you following me?” The voice came from behind him and sounded hauntingly familiar.

The prickly veterinarian from the bakery.

She was standing where the parking area opened onto the shaded path to the inn’s entrance. Her strawberry-blond hair caught the rays of the setting sun, strands blowing in her face with the breeze. Eyes snapping, she waited for him to respond.

“I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you mean.” His jaw clenched at the insinuation. “I’m a law enforcement officer, not a criminal.”

Her face softened slightly, and he caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. “Sorry, it’s just that in this town, there isn’t always a difference.”

Chapter Two

Well, that was embarrassing. Cassie truly did try to think before speaking, but some days she was more successful than others. What had she been thinking, accusing him of following her? It had been months since the accident; she needed to stop jumping at shadows.

“Mommy, look what Miss Jillian helped me make!” Cassie’s daughter, Emma, came bounding down the stairs of the picturesque inn with the energy and volume befitting a marching band, not a four-year-old. “I made Valentine’s cards!”

Behind, at a more sedate pace, came Cassie’s best friend and employee, Jillian Caruso. With her mass of black curls and pale skin, she looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, despite her casual jeans and sweater. Right now she also looked a tad guilty. “Before you say anything, this wasn’t my fault. I told her I would help her make some, but all the ideas were hers.”

Cassie arched an eyebrow, but let it go. She was just grateful Jillian had been willing to entertain Emma. Normally her mom watched Emma after her preschool let out, but today there had been a schedule conflict. Emma was much happier playing at the inn than being stuck with Cassie at the clinic yet again. “Hi, sunshine. I missed you.” She swept her up in a hug, letting go of the tension that had dogged her all day. This was why she worked so hard. This little girl was the most important thing in her world and worth all the long hours and missed sleep of the past few months. “Are you having fun?”

“She should be,” Jillian broke in. “She’s been here less than an hour and we’ve already played on the playground, looked for seashells on the beach and made brownies.”

“Are you a policeman? Did my mommy do something bad?”

Cassie had almost forgotten the deputy behind her. Blushing, she set Emma back down and turned to find him a few feet away, smiling as if she hadn’t just bitten his head off.

“Hello, sweetie. I’m Alex. What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma. Are you going to take someone to jail?”

“Not today. Unless there are any bad guys here?” His dimples showed when he smiled. Cops should not have dimples.

“Nope, just me and Miss Jillian and Mr. Nic. And Murphy. He’s their dog. And a bunch of people for the meeting. But they’re going to help kids, so they can’t be bad, right?” Her little brows furrowed as she thought.

“Probably not. Helping kids is a good thing. Are you going to help?”

Emma’s curls bounced as she nodded. “Yup, I get to help with the decorations. Mommy said so. And I get to come to the big Valentine’s Day dance. I’m going to wear a red dress.”

“A red dress? Sounds like a great party.” He raised his gaze to the third member of the group.

“Hi, I’m Jillian. Welcome to the Sandpiper Inn.” She offered her hand to the handsome deputy.

“Nice to meet you. Alex Santiago. Thanks for offering to host the meeting here.”

Jillian smiled, her face lighting up. “We’re happy to do it. I grew up in foster care myself—I know how hard it can be. Even the best foster families often can’t always give the kids as much attention as they need. It will be great if we can get a real mentor program started.”

If Alex was surprised by Jillian’s casual mention of her childhood, he didn’t show it. He just nodded and held out the box he’d picked up at the bakery. “I brought cookies, if you have somewhere I can put them. I figured at least a few people might not have had a chance to grab dinner yet.”

Oh, boy. Shame heated Cassie’s cheeks. She’d been stereotyping him with the old cops-and-doughnuts line when he’d actually been buying refreshments to share with others—at a charity event, no less.

The sight of the uniform might set her teeth on edge, but that was no reason to be openly rude to him. The car accident that had injured her father so badly had been caused by a single out-of-control deputy, but she couldn’t blame the man in front of her just because they both wore the same badge.

“Ooh, can I have a cookie?” Emma looked up at Alex, practically batting her eyelashes. “I’ve been very good.”

He laughed, and the lines around his eyes softened. “That’s up to your mom, princess.”

Emma turned pleading eyes to Cassie, whose heart melted. “Since you’ve been good, yes, one. But just one. Jillian said you’ve already had a brownie, and I don’t want you bouncing off the walls on a sugar high.” She nodded a thank you to Alex for letting her make the decision. “Now, let’s see those valentines you were telling me about.” She brushed off the niggling bit of envy that she hadn’t been the one making valentines with her daughter. Maybe that was why Jillian looked concerned about them?

“Cassie, maybe you should wait and read those later?” Jillian cautioned, nodding toward Alex.

Cassie darted a glance at the cop still standing on the stairs with them. He shrugged, then moved past them. “I’ll just go find a place to set these down. See you inside.”

Why was Jillian acting so tense over this? They were just paper hearts and glitter, not a manifesto. Taking them from Emma’s slightly grubby fist, she continued up to the massive front door of the Sandpiper.

The first card boasted a crudely drawn bouquet of flowers, and the words MOM and LOVE circled by pink and purple hearts. “Thank you, sweetie, I love it.” She shuffled that one to the back and opened the next one. This time there were happy faces covering the pink paper, and Jillian’s name, misspelled, at the center. “Beautiful!” Smiling, she opened the last heart-shaped card and then froze, almost stumbling as her daughter pushed past her into the warmth of the lobby. The words on the page had instantly imprinted on her brain, but she read them again anyway.

To Daddy. Painstakingly spelled out in red and gold sequins.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Jillian’s eyes were wide with sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I told her I’d help her make valentines, but I had no idea...”

Cassie straightened her spine. She’d talk to Emma about it. Make her understand, somehow, that this particular valentine was going to remain unsent. Her head began to throb.

“Don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” Cassie told Jillian.

It’s mine.

Alex kept an eye on the door as he mingled and shook hands in the spacious lobby. Observation was second nature at this point, and he wanted to see how that little scene out front played out. What was the big deal about a couple of valentines? Maybe it was nothing, but an overactive sense of curiosity came with the job.

He was munching on a tiny crustless sandwich when Cassie entered the room. Her daughter and friend followed, but she was the one that drew him, made him want to know more. There was something about the fiery redhead that made her impossible to ignore. Yes, she was pretty in a girl-next-door way, with a petite build and freckled complexion. But it was more than that. Her quick temper should have been off-putting. Instead, her transparency put him at ease. Every emotion showed on her face—there was no hidden agenda. In his line of work, he spent most of his time trying to figure out what someone wasn’t saying, but this woman was an open book.

And right now, she looked like she needed a friend. Her pale skin was flushed, and she had a tight look around her eyes, as if she was fighting off a headache. Moving toward her, drawn by instinct more than conscious thought, he offered her a drink. “Water?”

“Hmm?” She looked down at the unopened bottle he held in his hand. “Yes, thank you.” Taking a tentative sip, she screwed the cap back on. “Listen, about the coffee shop. I’m sorry I was rude. It was a dumb joke. I just...well, it wasn’t about you, specifically.”

“Not a fan of cops, are you?”

She winced. “That obvious?”

“Let’s see. You made a cop joke in front of a cop. Then you equated law enforcement with criminal behavior. It wasn’t a hard case to crack.”

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled. A heart-stopping smile that reached her eyes and made him wish he could do more for her than hand her a bottle of water. This must have been how Helen caused all that trouble in Troy. His heart thudded in his chest, warning him to look away.

His eyes landed on her daughter, who had snuck to the far side of the table to liberate another cookie. “She’s beautiful.”

The smile got even brighter. “Thanks.”

“Just like her mother.”

Instantly her smile vanished, and her gaze grew guarded. “I should go find a seat, before they’re all taken.”

He hadn’t meant the compliment as a pick-up line, but she obviously thought he was hitting on her and was putting as much space between them as possible. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but he’d heard medical people didn’t always wear them because of the constant hand-washing. Great. She was probably married. Now she had a reason to dislike him personally, rather than just cops in general.