Animal Magnetism: Falling For The Vet Next Door

“I think a better use of my time would be to get these boxes put together.” With that, Gage picked up the armful and went into the living room before he said something he would regret.

Some three hours later, the three of them sat in the breakfast nook finishing their lunch. Brooke had ordered Asian takeout from her favorite restaurant only blocks away. Having had enough of her sesame chicken, she sipped at her Chardonnay and watched Andi and Gage engaged in an animated conversation. She was certain that it was her imagination, but both of them seemed determined to prove something—to her—and it was making Brooke increasingly uncomfortable.

“Why shouldn’t I have a dog?” Andi wasn’t just challenging Gage, she clicked her chopsticks together as though tempted to pluck something off him.

“Because he—or she—can’t provide you with what you’re really looking for.” On the surface, he appeared all calm reason, only to stab his fork into a piece of broccoli with a bit too much relish. “Besides, you work too much. Ask Brooke about Humphrey. A dog needs attention, companionship and exercise. Unless you’re willing to invest that kind of time, you’re not going to get the pet you’re expecting.”

Andi didn’t respond well to that. “For pity’s sake, it’s not like I’m talking about adopting a rescued greyhound from a racetrack that will be kenneled all day. I meant something small, a toy something that I can carry in my bag. They make black poodles in that size, don’t they?” Andi turned to Brooke, looking for affirmation as much as confirmation.

“I hear the last place producing them refused to go union, so the employees walked off the job and the operation went bankrupt,” Gage drawled. “Now you have to order them from Guam, and you can only get them in white.”

That bit of outlandishness had Brooke reaching for the bottle of wine. As she poured a little more into her glass, she thought perhaps she should have warned Gage that Andi saw contention like another dimension of foreplay. He wasn’t going to upset her; he was playing right into her hands.

As though reading her mind, Andi said to Gage, a glint in her eye, “You’re getting annoyed with me.”

“Not at all. Only you remind me of the woman who was eager to breed her young dachshund, and, considering its age, I asked if it had even gone into heat yet. She told me it had been curling up by the hot water heater since the first day she brought it home.”

Just in case she was wrong in her estimation, Brooke eased the chopsticks out of Andi’s grasp.

“Well, I think it would be adorable for me to enter clients’ homes toting a little poodle version of me,” Andi said to Brooke.

Not daring to look at Gage, she replied, “No doubt about it.”

“What will the homeowners say when they discover only one of you is housebroken?” he drawled.

“Gage!” Brooke sent him a pleading look.

As though she’d heard nothing, Andi continued. “We could wear matching nail polish and bling.”

“Dogs aren’t fashion accessories.” Gage enunciated each word.

Wondering how a pleasant hour could go so horribly wrong, Brooke snapped. “Enough, you two!” She said to Andi, “You’ll long turn heads whether you adopt a pet or not. The point is that you’ve never been any more drawn to animals than I have. Is adoption really right for you?”

“What is?” Andi tossed back the last sip of her wine only to set the glass on the wooden table with a thud. “Okay, here’s the thing. After several dates since breaking up with he whose name will not be spoken, each guy has been worse than the next. Remember Must Love Dogs? Diane Lane’s website-generated applicants were princes compared to the characters that I’ve been paired with.”

“I’m so sorry! Here, take my wine.” Brooke slid over her glass. Although she could have lived the rest of her life without Gage hearing this, she replied, “You’re way braver than I will ever be by doing that. I’ve seen the commercials, sure, but to actually go online? No way.”

“Besides, think of what your father would say?” Gage asked, his expression benign.

Not only did Brooke glare at him, Andi joined her.

“Well, fear not,” Andi soon added. “I’ve given up the whole business, but look where that leaves me. You’re pulling up stakes. My Friday-night safety net!”

Brooke shook her head, not buying into her angst out of sheer necessity. “I’ll be barely more than two hours away, not across state lines. By the way, during the week, don’t we mostly text anyway?”

“But I live for our sleepovers.” Andi reached over to squeeze Brooke’s hand. “They’re like a weekend at a spa, without strangers judging your body.” She turned to Gage. “No doubt you’ve already grasped this, but this one is the best listener on the planet.”

“Only because your stories are always far more entertaining than mine,” Brooke quickly assured her, afraid of what Gage might say.

“Sadly, true.” Andi’s chuckle was short-lived when she added in all seriousness, “The fact is that you were fine-tuned by Daddy Dearest, who believed in the archaic notion that children should be seen, not heard, and you’ve yet to really escape that demoralizing indoctrination.’“

“Thanks,” Brooke replied with a wry twist of her lips. “I love being called a robot.”

“You know the financial world better than anyone I know. Probably as well as The Donald at your age—maybe even Warren Buffet. I just wish you’d be as confident about yourself.”

As Brooke lowered her eyes, Gage offered to Andi, “As the minority voice on the subject of dating, might I suggest that your bad luck in love is relative to some people finding themselves unable to get pregnant?”

The raven-haired Realtor smiled into his eyes. “Probably because my motto is do it well or not at all.” As mischief lit her sultry gray eyes, she all but pleaded, “Please tell me you at least have a twin?”

“Sorry. I do have three brothers and two sisters, though.”

Her interest sharpening, she straightened in her seat. “Any of them single? The brothers, I mean.”

“Two. But you’ll never get them out of Montana.”

Andi turned to Brooke, giving her a “You see? I have no luck” look. Pouring Brooke’s wine into her glass, she rose. “I’ll take this with me if you don’t mind. It’s time for me to return a few calls and otherwise get back to work, so you can get to yours.”

As the back door closed behind her, Gage said to Brooke, “She’s definitely a live wire. I would never have guessed that you two could be such good friends.”

Simultaneously wondering if that could continue, and thinking she now knew what an abused tennis ball at Wimbledon felt like, Brooke could only reply, “You provoked her.”

“Hit the rewind button, sweetheart. Only after she started it.”

Since he was right, she could only defend her friend on merit. “Andi is more of an extrovert than I’ll ever be, but she has a big heart, and from the first, she protected me and my interests as I shopped for a house that would be a home as much as an investment. She’s become my best friend.”

“I want to agree—especially when she referred to your father as Daddy Dearest.”

“Your ears almost went to attention like Humphrey’s when she spoke of him.” With no leftovers to see to, Brooke stacked one container into the other and carried them to the trash. “Just don’t misunderstand. My father was never physically abusive.”

“Okay, but what about emotionally?”

The question had her struggling for an answer. “Not everyone is born the demonstrative type. That doesn’t make him a bad person.”

Gage rose, too, and carried their plates and silverware to the sink. “And how often did you cry yourself to sleep? Not because he was busy, or because you were missing your mother?”

She knew what he was asking, and his challenge made her feel as though she was having that awful naked-in-public dream; however, she couldn’t stay upset with him. She knew he was trying to understand and be supportive. But the need to keep some walls up seemed wisest, even if it would hurt him. “I’ll say it again, you should open a side business as an analyst, Doc.”

“I’d go broke, my problem being an interest in only analyzing a certain individual.”

Brooke added the empty wine bottle to the trash and, too, a fantasy. “I’m not sure I’m worth that much of your time.”

“I disagree, but I wouldn’t expect a modest person like yourself to say anything else.” He came to her and took hold of her arms, forcing her to meet his somber scrutiny. “Let’s just get one thing cleared up. Stop trying to hook me up with your friend.”

“Groan and blush,” she said, lowering her gaze. “I’m embarrassed enough without hearing how easily you saw through what I’d attempted.”

“Failure was inevitable, since your heart disagrees with your head.”

It felt so natural and right to be standing like this that Brooke didn’t realize she was stroking his chest until he covered her hand with his and stayed it so she could feel the powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. That drew her gaze to meet his.

Brooke forgot about where they were and that Andi was only beyond a door or wall. She was transported to the other night when they’d sat together and all had seemed safe and right with the world. “This is such a mistake,” she said, helplessly focusing on his mouth.

“Let me prove otherwise.”

As he lowered his head, Brooke felt her body react as though someone tripped a switch. The mere brush of his lips—incredibly tender yet coaxing—made her feel both cherished and desired. When she yielded to invite more, he didn’t disappoint, soon kissing her in a way that had her uttering a soft sound of yearning and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This is the woman I’ve seen watching me,” he said against her lips.

He initiated another kiss, lifting her off her feet as he drew her tightly against him to align their bodies. Brooke could feel her nipples harden to sharp points against his chest, and his growing arousal between her thighs. After concluding that she was a woman of limited passion and sensuality, it was as thrilling as it was startling to realize there was someone who could bring her this high this fast that she couldn’t voice any cohesive thought.

“I wish we were alone, so I could really kiss you.”

The shiver that rushed through her body was all about the assurance that there could be more, that his kisses could get any better. As much as she wanted that, Brooke made herself push against his shoulders until he set her back on his feet. “Andi,” she said simply.

With a sigh, Gage allowed, “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” He looked as thrown as she was.

“It’s not like I don’t want this, too.” Seeing her lip gloss on his mouth, she quickly wiped it away with her thumb.

“It’s about time.” The smoldering look he gave her made Brooke feel as though she was a heartbeat away from being in his arms again. “For such a small slip of a woman, you have annoyingly strong willpower.”

Not anymore she didn’t. Not where he was concerned, and when he reached out to brush his thumb over her taut nipple, exposed due to her thin T-shirt and sheerer bra, she moaned and crossed her arms over herself. “Please. I have to go outside and talk to Andi.”

“If she tries to talk you into anything kinky, try to remember that I’m a one-woman man.”

Unable to suppress it, Brooke burst out laughing. “And bad.”

Minutes later, when Brooke got outside, Andi wasn’t where she’d last seen her. That wasn’t unwelcome news. Still feeling her lips tingling from Gage’s kisses, she suspected they remained a bit red and swollen, as well. Buying herself another minute or two, she went to check the mailbox, even though she’d had her mail transferred to Sweet Springs. Finding it as empty as it should be, she headed to the back of the house.

“I was about to come ask you if all of this garden sculpture stays,” Andi said, taking a photo of the man-size tiered concrete fountain tucked in the corner where the kitchen nook’s bay window looked out over the backyard. “It’s not on your list.”

Brooke’s felt a wave of relief knowing that if Andi had been any quicker in her work, she would have witnessed way more than was helpful.

“I’d only gotten around to inside things so far,” Brooke replied. “But, yes, everything was bought to fit this landscape. It would be aesthetically wrong to remove it.”

Andi nodded her approval. “You’re going to make someone very happy, and my job easier yet. This will definitely be a move-in-ready property, both indoors and out.”

“Well, even though I never expected this moment, you taught me what it takes to get a fast offer,” Brooke reminded her. “And a quick sale will, hopefully, make this less painful.”

As she focused on her notes, Andi asked, “Will you buy something in East Texas? You do have to think of some kind of reinvestment to avoid getting hit with taxes.”

Oh, God, Brooke thought. She just hoped that Gage wasn’t watching. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. It’s not like I need another house to maintain, and all signs are such that Aunt Marsha may never be able to resume residence in her own home. At least not without live-in help.”

“Then there’s Gage’s house next door,” Andi said, bringing matters closer to the real subject. “He said you haven’t seen it yet? You’d better go have a look. You need to find out if it’s a single-guy nightmare or a king’s castle awaiting the right queen. Even at that, it will need some feminine touches.”

Brooke gave up and blurted, “Andi, seriously, that’s the least thing I—”

“Uh-uh!” Andi held up one perfectly manicured finger to silence her. “Don’t even try to go there. We’re friends, correct? I am well familiar with your ladylike ways and how you try to do no harm. I know you.”

“I honestly did mean for you two to meet.”

“I believe that. Just as I believe that while you didn’t want to have feelings for someone, you’d planned—may still be planning—to say goodbye to soon, that’s exactly what’s happened.” Andi shook her magnificent raven mane behind her shoulders. “And face it—he’s half besotted with you. Don’t think I don’t wish otherwise. Believe me, I was ready to give him my business card in the hopes that he would find some time to race down the interstate and address my issues.”

Knowing better than to insult her friend’s intelligence with any more denials, Brooke reached for her. “I’m sick over this. I didn’t go looking for it, and it’s a complication that I don’t need.”

“Oh, shut it,” Andi scoffed good-naturedly, as she hugged her back. “He’s all man in that classical-cowboy sort of way. He knows who he is. How often do you run across someone so balanced? Don’t blow this, which you could, since you’ve never been one to compartmentalize. You gave those bloodsucker employers of yours your undivided attention. Granted, that probably saved you from marrying a clueless jerk, but now you’re giving your aunt and her business that same devoted focus. Let me tell you, Gage is no Parker, and he’ll demand you change your ways. He wants his share of those soulful, melt-your-heart, brown-eyed gazes, and you’d better give them to him.”

Andi checked her latest picture and then pocketed her phone. “I’m done. Time for me to head to the office to start on the paperwork. You’ll probably be back in Sweet Springs before I get everything set. I’ll fax everything you need to sign tomorrow.” Suddenly stopping midway to her car, she announced, “We haven’t even talked a price yet.”

At that moment, Brooke was torn between laughter and tears. “You’re the expert. I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

It was nearly seven-thirty in the evening when Brooke came into the study to tell Gage that they should call it a day. While his back was getting stiff from packing and stacking boxes of books and his stomach had begun to growl from hunger, he knew—finished or not—they had to head back to Sweet Springs tomorrow, and there were still things to do. At this point, that’s all he wanted to focus on.

“Let me get these last two boxes done. Then how about I get your kitchen packed?” he asked. “I’ve checked it out, and it won’t take me another hour. You have the emptiest set of cupboards that I’ve ever seen outside of a model home. I know you don’t cook for yourself, but what? No dinner parties? Not even catered?”

“Not here.” She shrugged. “Most of my clients are men, and not all of them are married. Those who are don’t always bring their wives to a dinner meeting. To avoid complications, it’s best to hold dinners elsewhere. The same with private parties. I just didn’t have the time to spend in the kitchen.”

For once, Gage was pleased with the news. No wonder the fridge held mostly wine, beer and bottled water. On the other hand, he was also convinced that Brooke would spend more time in the kitchen if there was someone there that she wanted to be with. He’d already proved that to himself.

“You have to be exhausted from tackling your bedroom and bathroom. Why don’t you make us something to drink and keep me company?” He requested a scotch and water for himself.

“Consider it done. I’ll be the designated driver. If I drink now, I’ll fall over on the couch and sleep until sunrise. While I’m gone, you decide where we should go to eat. There are some casual steak houses and breweries that serve great burgers and grilled food close by.”

The idea of having to share her again didn’t appeal to Gage at all. “It’s Sunday night—everything is going to be so packed, we won’t be able to hear ourselves think, let alone hold a conversation. We could go to that gourmet market we passed on the way here.”

“I can’t let you cook after all you’ve already done,” Brooke said, her tone adamant. “What about pizza?”

“Sounds great.”

“Then tell me how you like yours. I’ll call as soon as I bring you that drink.”

In fact, it was just under an hour later that Gage washed up, then got the door for the kid delivering their dinner. Brooke was still on the phone checking on her aunt one last time for the day. The sun was sinking fast, and as he carried the pizza box to the kitchen nook, he admired the way the light played off the live oak and juniper trees artfully framing the small but photogenic backyard. If this property was in East Texas, he could live contentedly here, he mused, as he set the box on the table.

About to refresh his drink, he pantomimed to Brooke, asking whether she wanted wine or whatever? Still listening to her aunt, she went to the cooler and got out a bottle of cabernet, which she handed him.

Winking at her, he opened the bottle and poured so it could get to its best temperature before attending to his glass. He didn’t pretend not to be listening to Brooke’s side of the conversation. It reassured him that there was no hint of the cool, formal financier in her tone; she was all warmth and concern.

“No, dear, I’m not coming tonight. We’re still in Dallas. Yes, that’s right, I did explain earlier today, but you were in between nurse and doctor visits. It’s perfectly reasonable to have gotten confused. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for sure, as soon as we unload.” She deftly took two plates from a cabinet and handed them to Gage. “I know where to put things, Aunt Marsha, not to worry.” Lifting a roll of paper towels off its pewter pedestal, she passed it to him, as well. “Humphrey is doing fine. Gage spoke with Roy earlier. Humph has a girlfriend, a yellow Labrador named Lily. No, Gage didn’t get a new dog yet. Her people are out of town, and she’s being kenneled at the clinic.” Brooke looked toward Gage and grinned. “Well, I’m sure you’re about to make his day. I’ll tell him. Try to get some sleep, dear. I’ll be there soon.”

“Now you’re ready for this wine,” Gage said, as soon as she disconnected and set down the phone on the counter.

Thanking him, she settled in the seat next to his and indulged in a slow sip. Only then did she pass on her message. “Aunt Marsha says to consider yourself kissed for making sure Humphrey is being so well taken care of.”

Pretending to be unconvinced, Gage replied, “I think she told you to give me a kiss for her. I caught that smile—it was a dead giveaway.”

“You’ll just have to ask her when we get back to Sweet Springs.”

“I’m being cheated,” he muttered, but he couldn’t keep a straight face as he opened the pizza box. If there was any grace and justice in the universe, he would get kissed before the night was over. “Is she holding up okay? It sounded like she was having some memory or focus issues.”

Sighing, Brooke nodded her agreement. “But there’s good cause—since my last call, she learned that they’re bumping up her surgery.”

“Is that right? How soon?”

“It’s now scheduled for Thursday.”

On Friday, the doctor had said that they’d scheduled her for Tuesday in a week. “Wow,” Gage said. “Did something happen to make them do that?”

“She couldn’t remember their specific reasoning.” The look she gave him signaled that it brought back the concern about her memory. “I suspect the doctor didn’t like her numbers. It’s the first thing I’ll look into tomorrow.”

The mask of the calm nurturer was gone. In its place was the face of a niece wracked with doubt and dread as she picked up his plate and slid on two slices of the pie.

“It will be all right,” he assured her, reaching over to stroke her cheek.

“What if she’s too weak, or there’s some other problem they haven’t factored in?”

“You can’t think that way.” He accepted the plate. “The point is that she’s in the best place possible if there is a problem. You certainly won’t be of help to her if you make yourself sick.”

Taking a sip of her wine, Brooke assured him, “Believe me, she won’t see this side of me when I step into her room.”

“Then I’m doubly grateful that you’re being so open with me.”

“Well, let’s eat before this wine makes me a total goofball,” she declared. “The pizza smells out of this world! Andi and I usually try for a modicum of restraint and order the thinnest crust and veggie kind.”

That won her a pitying look from him. “Women. Then what’s the point?”

He’d asked for a pepperoni, sausage and jalapeño, thick crust with extra cheese. Brooke had already warned him that she would be plucking all peppers off hers, which she proceeded to do.

“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Gage scoffed, as he held his slice close for her to dispose of them.

“Some of the juice will still be on there. That’s about my speed.”

“I should have known when you ordered sesame chicken for lunch. I guess I should be glad you didn’t ask for half of this to be Canadian bacon with pineapple.”

Gage ate with relish, but he enjoyed watching her more ladylike restraint and how she dabbed at her mouth with a paper towel after each bite, although there wasn’t even a crumb lingering on her lips. “Have you ever so much as dropped something on your clothes since you were…maybe in training pants?” He seriously doubted it.

Brooke’s brown eyes lit with self-deprecating humor. “I have terrible luck with Italian food. It’s so bad that I’ve learned never to order it unless I’m eating here at home. It’s the spinning-in-the-fork thing. I think I’m doing well, but my clothes end up looking like a TV drama’s crime-scene splatter photo.”

“That’s impossible,” Gage replied. “Anyone who handles chopsticks as well as you do? At lunch I was thinking you must have an Asian great granny in your family tree. I wish I’d have thought of Italian. I’d make a donation to your favorite charity to see sauce on your nose.”

About to reply, Brooke paused when her cell phone buzzed. She immediately dabbed her mouth and rose. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting any calls since I spoke to Aunt Marsha. I should have turned it off. It’s my pet peeve when people think they’re so important they need you to see them taking inane calls during a meal.” But her wry smile froze the moment she picked it up. “Oh, damn. It’s…my father.”