Animal Magnetism: Falling For The Vet Next Door

“Sounds like a deal.”

Outside, Charles Rollins was just slamming the hood on the delivery van. A gangly senior with silver hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, he wiped his hands on a paper towel and beamed at her. Handling deliveries was exactly the amount of work the retired math teacher wanted to keep himself active between afternoons gardening with Chloe, his wife of forty years.

“All set when you are, Brooke,” he said.

“Everything is ready for you.” She gestured back to the store. “You have four deliveries and the tickets are under each vase. But do me a favor and grab an extra cup of coffee and keep Kiki company while I’m up in the loft for a quick check. With both the front and back doors unlocked, I don’t want her being in there alone.”

“Understood. Be happy to,” he said, only to look up the two levels of stairs. “You sure you don’t need me to help up there? Are you planning to carry down something heavy or complicated?”

“More likely I’ll be yelling, ‘Look out below!’ and tossing things into the Dumpster,” she replied, indicating the big unit beneath the stairs. “We need to catch up with the rest of the community and prepare for the summer traffic by redoing the front windows, but from what I remember being up there, the pickings are slim.”

Charles nodded, his look sympathetic. “Marsha has just been too busy to give the place the attention it deserves. After I make these deliveries, why don’t I come back to help?”

Brooke had always liked Charles and appreciated his gentlemanly manner. He was a low-key throwback to another age. “If Chloe can spare you, I will definitely take you up on that offer, Charles. Thank you. That will allow Kiki to get to work in the windows all the sooner.”

As she went up to do a quick inventory, Brooke’s thoughts inevitably drifted back to last night and the kiss. In truth, that was what she’d been doing when Kiki had arrived. She was amazed that she’d gotten the good rest that she had, considering how her mind had been churning.

For such a brief incident, Gage had really left her thrown off balance. She’d had two serious relationships in her thirty years—the last being when she’d thought things might progress to marriage—until Parker had received a great job promotion/transfer that would relocate him to California. Before they’d had a chance to talk, he’d accepted, convinced that Brooke would give notice and come with him. Stunned, she had only voiced one question.

Why?

Because you love me.

She’d thought she did; however, she’d never said the words because he didn’t. He’d said he’d loved a gift, loved some impressive function they’d attended that her father had invited her to, loved the parties she’d arranged for their friends…until it struck her that there were degrees of love, or maybe she’d confused contentment and caring for that deeper feeling?

Upon realizing that she didn’t feel enough to walk away from everything she’d accomplished career-wise, she’d said goodbye to Parker. How ironic that only weeks later, her so-called career was snatched from her.

Now there was Gage, the unexpected one, as she was coming to think of him. She had no time for frivolousness, let alone romance, and yet he was making her feel all fuzzy and fluttery at just the thought of him, the way she hadn’t felt since Bobby Stafford had kissed her outside of their high school gym back in the ninth grade. The problem was that she was thirty, not fourteen, something she’d felt compelled to warn Gage of last night.

“Cat got your tongue? You should see your face.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Because there’s no sense in starting something that has no future,” he’d recited. “You’ve more or less already said that.”

“I wish you’d take me seriously.”

“I don’t want to. I’d thought after two glasses of wine and an hour more of my irresistible presence, I’d have started to wear down that argument. How many thousands of relationships have started with seemingly no chance at a future? What about the soldiers heading for war who met a girl at a dance or airport? What about the soldiers who met girls overseas and instantly felt something special? Were war brides a bad idea because of inevitable challenges?”

He’d enjoyed picking apart her logic, while she’d countered by suggesting that he was way too romantic to have managed to stay single for this long, and she suspected he just liked the chase—as he’d admitted—and saw her as safe entertainment.

“Try me,” he’d challenged, a gleam in his sexy blue-gray eyes.

She had demurred, of course, and sent him home. However, once in her room, Brooke had stopped before a full-length mirror and touched her lips. Letting her eyes drift shut, she’d relived the moment of his brief but sensual assault. What would it feel like to lay breast to thigh with him and feel those strong arms drawing her closer yet? To be kissed deeply as he entered her?

“Be honest,” she said to her reflection, “you want to find out.”

“Pardon?” Gage asked, looking up.

He had hoped to lock the front doors at the stroke of five and get the rest of his obligations here done so he could get Humphrey home. It probably wasn’t likely that Brooke was of the same mind, but a man could hope. Instead, Liz Hooper had swept into the clinic with her obnoxious Chihuahua, Banderas, named after Liz’s favorite Latino-heartthrob film star. This afternoon, “Bandy” had been stung in the face a few times when he’d stuck his curious nose down into an underground bee nest.

“I said, ‘Come over and find out.’”

Gage blinked at Liz, although the image of Brooke after he’d kissed her good-night lingered before him.

“Earth to Gage—you wondered what kind of bee it was.” As Liz explained herself, her wrist full of bracelets jingled when she gestured in the direction of town. “I certainly can’t bring one to you without getting stung myself.”

“It was just a— Never mind,” Gage replied, mentally berating himself for the slip in concentration. Liz was a handful under normal circumstances. He didn’t need to let his guard down and give her any ideas.

“There’s some swelling,” he said, gently feeling around the wounded dog’s neck, “but there doesn’t seem to be any signs of anaphylactic shock. I’ll go ahead and give him some Benadryl to reduce his discomfort. Let’s go with half of a child’s dosage, considering his size.” He did so, using an eye dropper to get the liquid into the Chihuahua’s mouth. As the small animal licked and swallowed, he handed Liz the box. “Follow the schedule on the box. Unless something gets worse, you should be able to stop tomorrow.”

Liz looked disappointed. “You’re sure you don’t need to keep him under observation for a few hours? I would rather wait than put him through the stress of another trip here, not to mention having to call you back.”

Gage didn’t believe the shapely brunette. She wasn’t the most subtle woman on the planet and had made it clear since their first meeting that he would be welcome in her bed anytime. That was why he’d left both doors in the examination room open, so Roy could hear what was happening at all times. The last thing he needed—especially after last night with Brooke—was for Liz to start unfounded rumors about them being an item.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” he told her. “Besides, you look like you’re on your way somewhere.”

Liz immediately ran her hand over her white figure-hugging dress. “Why, thank you for noticing, Gage. Aren’t you the gentleman? But no, I’m just not one of those women who can allow herself to be seen in public looking anything less than her best.”

Even if her dog was gasping for breath? Gage wondered.

“It would just seem disrespectful to Darryl’s memory.”

The late Darryl Hooper had been mayor of Sweet Springs for two terms before dying prematurely of a heart attack last year. The tongue-in-cheek gossip around town was that second wife, Liz, had, one way or another, worn out the poor guy.

“Well, I’m sure he believes you’re doing him proud,” Gage drawled, handing the dog back to her. “Just make sure to keep Bandy calm and out of the sun. If he continues to rub at his face, you might cool him off with a cold compress. That’ll also help the swelling recede faster.” Hopefully, that would also keep her off the phone, calling him to give him updates he wasn’t asking for.

“All right, I’ll do my best.” Liz gave him a beseeching look that included a fluttering of her expensive false eyelashes. “Do I need to bring him in for a follow-up?”

The sound of Roy clearing his throat saved Gage from having to reply to that. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Roy poke his head in the doorway.

“Sorry, Doc, but we have a dog that got into antifreeze.”

Gage winced. “Damn. Will people ever learn?” Dogs found the taste of antifreeze appealing, and humans were warned relentlessly to keep such things in closed containers out of reach of animals, but he had to deal with at least a few cases a year of an animal that had imbibed some. In all but two cases, the liver damage was such that the animal had died.

He gave Liz an apologetic look. “Sorry. Time means everything in this case. Ah—no follow-up is needed. Roy, please get Mrs. Hooper checked out.”

Gage dashed out of the room, leaving Liz in Roy’s care. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have charged for this service, minimal as it was. But he’d been more than generous to Liz in the past and suspected she was seeing that as encouragement. At this stage, she came here as often as high school kids showed up at the local Dairy Queen’s drive-through window.

In the main examination/operating room, Gage was surprised to see there was no one waiting for him, which wasn’t exactly a surprise, since he was belatedly realizing that he hadn’t heard anyone enter the building. He then went to the other three examination rooms, but they, too, were empty. What the heck was going on? he wondered.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hooper! Hope Banderas feels better soon.”

Roy never spoke in such a booming voice, unless he shouting a warning to Gage that he was about to get stepped on by a half ton of beef. That seemed a strong hint to Gage to wait for the sound of the front door buzzer indicating that Liz had left. Only then did he venture out front.

Coming to stand beside Roy, they watched Liz spin her metallic cashmere-colored Jaguar into a sharp U-turn and speed out of the lot. If Bandy wasn’t safely in his carrier kennel, he was definitely worrying about more than bee stings.

“What did you say to her?” Gage asked.

“I asked her to swipe her credit card. She’s been here four times in seven weeks, Doc, and hasn’t paid for any of the visits.”

“I felt guilty charging her when I didn’t do anything. Was it really four times? I thought it was two, maybe three. Well, thank you, Roy.”

“You’re welcome.”

It didn’t slip by Gage that Roy was issuing a message, something akin to “Let’s end this before it becomes town news.” That was fair. It was one of the many reasons he relied on him so much.

“I take it there’s no dog with a ruined liver?”

“Nope. Sorry for the momentary distress, but I knew anything less might not be enough to get her out of here.”

From the corner, Pete Ogilvie asked, “Do y’all think that tight dress is cutting off her circulation?”

“First, you need blood in your veins for that to happen,” Jerry Platt told the oldest member of their group. The so-called “kid” of their group had been seen in the company of Liz several times, the latest only a few weeks ago. This was the first time since then that he’d made any comment about her.

The other two men laughed, and Humphrey raised his head where he’d been laying contented between the old-timers. He wagged his tail as though amused, too.

“Let’s get the front door locked, and then we can neuter the two Delaney Labs.”

“The— Right. Let’s get it done.” Gage wasn’t about to tell Roy that he’d completely forgotten about the pups. That was a testament to how badly he wanted to get home and see Brooke again.

He’d tricked her into kissing him…and she hadn’t gotten angry. After a moment’s surprise and what had seemed a halfhearted protest, she’d looked at him differently—and in a good way. Before that changed, he wanted to kiss her again. Sadly, that wasn’t going to happen as soon as he would like.

For the first time since he could remember, he wasn’t grateful for being up to his neck in clients. Until now, he’d liked staying so busy that he had no time to think about what was missing in his life. But Brooke’s arrival was changing that fast.

“Remind me to do more than just talk about adding to our staff,” he told Roy.

The dark-haired man did a double take. “Be happy to, boss. You feeling okay?”

“Never better.”

When Brooke pulled into the driveway that night, she shut off the BMW’s engine but then just sat there in the dark, slumped against the seat, her eyes closed. What had begun as a successful and rewarding day had unraveled by the time she’d reached the hospital in the evening. Eager to share the day’s progress with her aunt, she’d found the room vacated. To her astonishment, Marsha had been transferred back to ICU!

Almost too weary to move, she forced herself. Humphrey would have heard or seen her pull in and would start barking and wailing at any moment. Gage’s pickup was in his driveway, and she didn’t want to disturb him. To be honest, she also wasn’t prepared to face him yet.

Exiting the car and locking up, she let herself inside the back gate and immediately saw more lights shining inside than she had left on. What on earth was going on?

As she started up the porch steps, the back door opened, and she came face-to-face with the man who had possessed more of her thoughts in the past twenty-four hours than was wise. Ignoring the jolt in her chest, she focused on something rational—the reason for him to be here. Kiss or no kiss, he wouldn’t take such liberties to just come over without an invitation. That must mean only one thing.

“Don’t tell me,” she groaned. “He acted up again?” She looked beyond him to where Humph was sitting, watching them and wagging his tail. “What is wrong with you? I intentionally left it darker in the house so you’d nap.”

Stepping back to let her enter, Gage explained, “I only got home a few minutes ago myself, and he must have seen my lights. That’s when he started a ruckus worse than last night. Maybe it’s only because you’re later, too. I hope you don’t mind me coming over, but he was getting tangled in the front drapes, then scratching at the door.”

“No, of course not, but I hate that you’re inconvenienced.”

“I’m not. Don’t give it a thought.”

But his news sent Brooke’s heart sinking as she set her purse on the counter. What else did they have to do to keep this animal behaving? Couldn’t she have at least an hour of pure silence to adjust to what was happening? What if the curtains were torn or the paint peeled? She had no time to deal with repairs. Feeling the avalanche of bad news threaten to overwhelm her, she covered her face with her hands.

“Hey.” Gage came up behind her and gently grasped her upper arms. “It’s really okay. He stopped as soon as he heard me, so there’s no real damage done. I checked. He helped.” His brief chuckle at his own humor ended quickly when he realized she wasn’t joining in. “Brooke?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this!”

“Aw, come on.” Gently turning her, Gage tilted his head to better see her face. “He’s just a dog, hon. Not even a very big one. A bit spoiled, agreed, and somewhat set in his ways—”

“A bit?” she cried. “It’s too much—and unfair. And added to everything else—”

The desperation, followed by a telltale hitch in her voice, had Gage frowning. “What’s happened that has you this shaken? Talk to me.”

She didn’t want to. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone, particularly a man she didn’t want thinking the worst of her; but it was apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere, so she dropped her hands and said simply, “Aunt Marsha collapsed this afternoon.”

Gage’s expression mirrored what she thought hers had been when she had been told the news—shock and then dread. However, faster to recover, he drew her against his solid, broad chest. “Ah, jeez. I’m almost afraid to ask…. How is she?”

“Weak, but stable. They’re keeping her in ICU for the night.”

Kissing her on her forehead, Gage said, “You look ready to collapse yourself. Come, sit.” He urged her to a chair in the breakfast nook, then tugged out the one beside it and sat down before her, his long legs boxing her in. Resting his elbows on his knees, he enfolded her hands in his. “Start from the beginning,” he coaxed. “Did she reinjure her hip?”

“No, thank goodness. She was standing, but her therapist was with her at the time, and he managed to catch her. Only… Gage, it’s her heart.”

He bowed his head to her hands, resting his forehead against them before kissing them. “Sweetheart.” Then, raising his head, he looked deeply into her eyes. “They’re sure?”

“They’d done some tests before I got there—”

His expression reflected confusion. “When on earth did they call you?”

“They didn’t.”

“What?”

Brooke appreciated his guttural sound of indignation in her defense. Initially, she’d been offended, too; however, she’d soon learned enough to be more understanding. As concisely as possible, she told him about arriving just after dropping Humphrey at home and finding her aunt’s room vacated. Naturally, she’d thought the worst.

“Dear God. What a scare you had.”

“I think the shift change, along with their urgency to make sure she wasn’t having a heart attack or stroke, created the inevitable glitch in contacting me.” Brooke closed her eyes, trying to remember everything said and done. She was still dazed and felt terrible for her newly distressed aunt, who was now more exhausted than ever, after all she’d been put through to get data for the doctors to peruse. “They’ll repeat a few tests tomorrow, but they’re increasingly certain that it’s a heart-valve problem.”

“Damn,” Gage murmured, stroking the soft skin on the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “How’s she taking the news?”

“Oh, she’s trying to put up a good front…until I finally kissed her good night so she could try to get some sleep. She dropped her guard then, and I could see her fear and need for reassurance, yet at the same time her concern for me and for what this would do to my schedule.”

“Of course she would,” Gage replied. “I understand a valve replacement is a more dangerous and invasive procedure than a pacemaker, and that’s likely to lengthen her recuperation time.”

“Exactly,” Brooke said, only to add with determination, “but I can’t let her go back into surgery feeling guilty for needing more of my time.”

“Nevertheless, it’s a tough blow for you.” Gage gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “What can I do to help?”

The man was entirely too appealing for his own good. Wanting nothing more than to dump everything in his lap and curl there herself, she straightened her spine and said firmly, “You’re already doing plenty.” Then she added wryly, “Well, you could will me some of your patience with that one.”

As she nodded toward Humphrey, Gage scoffed at her self-deprecation. “You’re doing great with him. What you need is something to relax you so you can sleep. Mind if we open that other bottle of wine?”

Brooke gave him a droll smile. “I was planning to, so by all means.”

While he got busy, she used the time to slip out of her heels and the butter-yellow jacket she’d worn over an ivory silk blouse and matching slacks. Hanging the expensive jacket over the back of the chair, she thought she really had to find time to check out the boutique across from her aunt’s shop for some more casual clothes. Everything in her wardrobe made her look as though she was taking a Wall Street meeting. Granted, the jacket had been helpful in the cold hospital, but otherwise, it had felt pretentious and stuffy.

By the time she’d taken the clasp out of her hair and shaken it free, she was feeling the stranglehold of panic ease its grip on her throat, and she was breathing normally. “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” she told Gage as he brought the two glasses of wine to the table.

“Hey, if there’s any way my handing you your own wine makes you feel indebted to me, who am I to argue?” he teased, his gaze warm, although still concerned.

“It’s about more than that, and you know it.” Brooke took a grateful sip. “I will make this up to you, if only to prove I’m more competent and less selfish than I’ve been sounding this week.”

Resuming his seat, Gage looked completely perplexed. “What are you talking about? You’ve stepped up to the plate better than anyone could ask or would expect. You’re simply drained and dealing with this new blow just as Marsha is, and in your case, you have the added responsibility to keep a stiff upper lip for her sake.”

“You’re generous to look at it that way.” Encouraged by his logical thinking, she decided to share something she’d been pondering since learning her aunt’s latest health challenge. “There’s something I’ve decided to do that should help a little stress-wise. I have to get back to Dallas and let a real estate friend sell my place.”

Gage didn’t respond as fast as she had expected. He, too, looked caught between opposing emotions.

“Leaving my personal feelings out of this,” he finally replied, “I have to ask—aren’t you being a bit premature? You’re still reeling, and, as a financial expert, you know it’s never wise to make such a big and lasting decision so soon.”

“I know,” she replied, “but I also know that sometimes you don’t have the luxury of putting things off, and this is one of those times. They’ll undoubtedly do surgery at the most opportune moment when she’s stabilized and they’re certain about what they need to do. Thereafter, Aunt Marsha will need me more than ever. Better to get things rolling in the small window of opportunity that’s available.”

“There’s always the possibility that the doctors will alter their prognosis after tomorrow’s added testing.”

Brooke gave him a mournful look as she shook her head. “They’re not wrong. I’ve noticed her fatigue even before today, and made myself believe that she was naturally slowing down a bit.” Her tone grew wry. “What are you doing? You and Aunt Marsha have both been conniving to get me back here, and now you’re trying to talk me out of it?”

“It’s the circumstances. It will break Marsha’s heart to learn that you’re giving up your pride and joy—don’t tell me that your house is merely an investment. She talked about how much work you’ve put into it, and understood your need for independence.” As she raised her eyebrows at that latest admission, he shrugged. “Yeah, she used me as a sounding board at times and asked me for advice now and again—one of those times being when you stopped renting and chose to buy your own home.

“I understand how family can weigh in on major decisions,” he continued. “When I came down here for school and then stayed, my family wasn’t overjoyed, either, regardless of my feelings about the weather. My father thought I should set up practice up in Montana, so I could handle his stock in between dealing with my other clients. There were some stiff-necked attitudes for a while.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Brooke replied. “But this is different. You have a larger family. My aunt has no one but me—and as I think I told you, I’m the daughter she never had. If I can walk away from her in this moment of dire need, what does that say of my feelings for her?”

“Nobody has the right to judge you, even her, and she wouldn’t want you to give up your life for her, let alone your dreams, especially if she realized you were feeling trapped.”