Animal Magnetism: Falling For The Vet Next Door

Gage didn’t care for the way she pressed her hand to her abdomen as though she was about to lose the few bites of dinner she’d consumed. What kind of parent did that to a child he supposedly loved? Sure, things hadn’t always gone smoothly between him and his father, but he’d known his old man would lose a leg before seeing one of his kids suffer.

Brooke took the call and turned her back to Gage. “Hi, Dad. Just back in the States?”

Damon Chandler Bellamy. Gage had heard his full name earlier in the day, sardonically spoken by Andi, and had seen a few pictures of him in the study. He was a good-looking guy, something like the European who was playing that superspy these days in the movies. Cold and calculating as he was lean and elegant. From the family photographs, Gage had taken some small satisfaction in guessing he was below average in height—somewhere between Napoleon and Tom Cruise. His blond hair told him that Brooke’s hair color was natural, and that she’d inherited her gorgeous brown eyes from her mother. Damon Bellamy’s eyes were the gray of steel buried in Arctic ice.

“You’re doing what?”

The sharp exclamation yanked Gage back to reality, and he saw Brooke shakily moving the phone a few inches away from her ear. When she glanced over her shoulder at him and he saw her embarrassment, he had to reach for his drink. His only other option was to take the damned phone and yell back, “Exactly what is your problem, pal?”

“It can’t be helped, Dad. I can’t make any appointments yet when Aunt Marsha is dealing with so many problems. Didn’t you get my message about her condition being graver?”

Hell, Gage thought. The guy must have treasury ink in his veins instead of blood to not even ask up front how his sister-in-law was doing.

“It’s nothing she can control. I only just learned they’re going to do the heart-valve-replacement procedure on Thursday. Moving it up must indicate they’re worried.”

As Gage heard her father issue a lengthy list of directives, he watched Brooke cross to the table to reach for her glass and take a fortifying sip of wine. Her hand exposed the subtlest trembling, and he had to fight the urge to go stand behind her and draw her against him to offer his moral support. But would she accept it?

At the end of what seemed a lengthy rant, Brooke said dully, “That’s impossible, Father. She’s afraid, and I won’t leave her in that condition. The hospital staff are fine people, but they can’t provide the reassurance that family can.”

You tell him, sweetheart. Gage was heartened even for that modicum of formal rebellion. He’d been half worrying that he would hear “Yes, Daddy.”

After another lengthy rant by her father, she recited, “I understand that the longer I’m out of circulation, the harder it will be to find a good position, but that can’t be helped.”

Whatever Damon Bellamy said next had Brooke gripping the back of her chair.

“That was uncalled for. I respect that the countryside doesn’t hold any appeal for you, but I spent some of the happiest days of my childhood there with Aunt Marsha. I know I’m no longer a child, and I don’t see myself as a martyr. Listen, I have to go. A neighbor is at the door. I’ll get back with you after the surgery. Thank you for the call.”

As soon as Brooke disconnected, she turned off the phone and pushed it as far away from herself as she could. When she returned to the table, she reached for her wine glass. “I’ll probably regret this, but—” She took too long of a swallow to appreciate anything but the alcohol, and when she set down her glass, she glanced at him with no small chagrin. “I guess you could tell that didn’t go well?”

“He tends to speak loudly when he’s annoyed.”

She exhaled shakily. “I underestimated how unhappy he would be with my decisions.”

Underestimated his ability to be an ass.

Wanting badly to reach for her, Gage said, “I should have left the room to give you more privacy, but the truth is that I didn’t want to. I have a low tolerance for anyone, particularly a parent, bullying.”

Brooke winced at the word. “He’s not really that, he’s…just used to getting things done.”

“Well, you’re his daughter, not his protégée. Excuse me prying but…he seemed annoyed with your aunt, as well as you?”

“He feels that Aunt Marsha has lived her life and that she shouldn’t burden me with her problems.”

Gage could tell just by her expression that even repeating that was upsetting and distasteful to her. “Much better to get back to wheeling and dealing and chasing that all-important dollar, eh? Helping is part of what families do. Isn’t a prime vow in a wedding ceremony ‘For better or worse’?” It never ceased to astonish him when people were in a hurry to say those words, only to be among the first and fastest to indicate, “I didn’t mean this!”

Brooke fingered the remnants of her first slice of pizza but didn’t try for a bite. “My father was an only child, and his parents had very little and didn’t achieve much more. It made him extremely ambitious. He could have stepped out of a Dickens novel.”

“Was he on your mother’s reading list?”

“Never let it be said there’s anything wrong with your memory.” Brooke shook her head, her expression sad. “Maybe those books helped my mother understand him, and it may have helped her reach his compassionate side, but once she was gone, he reverted back quickly.” She shrugged, then tried for a resilient tone. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of his criticism, and I doubt it will be the last.”

“Thinking of you developing a thicker skin is doing wonders for my state of mind, too.”

Brooke abruptly shifted her gaze out the bay window where now the timer-set lights around the fountain shrubs twinkled. “Don’t be too nice to me. I’m just tired and emotionally drained enough to make a fool of myself and burst into tears. Believe me, I can handle my father’s censure far easier than your tenderness.”

That made all the sense in the world to Gage, but it wouldn’t help him sleep tonight. He was tied in knots for her. Finally, slowly shaking his head, he said, “You’re asking for too much, sweetheart. My sisters taught me that classic romantic movies held a lot of advice if I ever was in relationship trouble, but I never saw one where the guy gorging on pizza made the girl throw herself at him.”

Staring at him, Brooke eased her fingers over her mouth as new tears flooded her eyes. But this time they were tears of laughter. “Neither did I,” she said as giggles burst from her lips. “But his error might be in that he didn’t save her a piece for breakfast.”

Taking his time to pretend to ponder that bit of wisdom, Gage ultimately shook his head in rejection. “That can’t be right. Cold pizza for breakfast—who are you, a former trash-bin scavenger?”

Sniffing, Brooke reached for a slice. “I happen to like cold pizza.”

As she took a bite and chewed, Gage ripped off a fresh sheet of paper towel and dabbed at the moisture under her eyes. “You finally found some jalapeño juice, I see.”

After a grateful glance, Brooke played along and said huskily, “I still don’t know how you stand the things.”

Smiling into her eyes, he said softly, “They’re worth the trouble.” Taking another sustaining sip of his drink, Gage thought they should get the rest of tonight’s awkwardness out of the way. “In case you were figuring out how to bring up the subject, I’m going to camp out on the couch in the study tonight.”

Brooke wiped her hands and reached over to gently rub his forearm. “I’m sorry. I honestly intended for tonight to go differently. I was going to let you seduce me.”

With a slow, full nod, he asked, “I knew it. Thick crust is the secret aphrodisiac, isn’t it?” When she smiled, he took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. “You’re physically exhausted and mentally beaten up, and you’re about to say goodbye to a big piece of your independence for a while.”

“And you deserve better than leftovers,” she said, rubbing his lower lip with her thumb.

“Lovely, I would crawl on all fours for your leftovers. But for our first time, I have this fantasy.”

“That’s nice,” she whispered, transfixed. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been part of anyone’s fantasy before.”

“Stick with me, kid.”

“You make me want to.”

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