“Thanks. I’m relieved to hear that, and I appreciate you taking another look.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I worry about him. It’s stupid, I know.”

She stood and laid her hand on his arm. “It’s not stupid at all. I treat Daisy like she’s my kid. Animals can’t speak for themselves, so they rely on us to be both their caretakers and their playmates. I’m so happy you’re doing such a good job of caring for Boomer.”

He looked down where her hand lay on his arm. Just as quickly, she jerked it away, then reached into the jar on the counter and gave Boomer and Daisy a treat.

“Anyway, I’m glad he’s rehabbing so well.”

She walked him out front. “I’m sorry to say that everyone’s left for the night again. Rachel had a date so I let her leave, and Leanne had already taken off.”

“So . . . alone together again, huh? This is getting to be a habit.”

She looked at a loss for words. She wrapped her arms around her chest, then shoved her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.

Huh. Interesting. “Emma. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least she was honest. “I’ll take off, then, and drop by tomorrow to settle up my bill with Rachel.” He led Boomer to the door.

“No. Wait.”

He paused and turned.

“It’s not you, Luke. It’s nothing about you.”

“Okay.”

She shook her head. “It’s . . . nothing. It’s me.” She smiled. “Honestly. I’m just not comfortable around guys.”

He popped up an eyebrow, then it hit him. “Oh. I get it. Sorry.”

Her eyes widened. “No. You are not getting it at all. That’s not it.” She took a few seconds. “I’m not explaining myself well. Look. It’s been a long time.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Huh?”

“Um, you know.”

“No. I don’t.”

She bit down on her lower lip, then said, “First, there was four years of vet school, and after that I had to dive in and work with several doctors at a practice. Getting my feet wet, you know? It was nonstop work. There was no time in my life for the whole dating thing.”

Now he really did get it. He came toward her. “So, you’re saying you’re . . . rusty?”

This time, at least, she didn’t back away like he had the plague.

“Yes. That’s it exactly. I haven’t dated anyone in years.”

He found that hard to believe. “Years?”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Yes. Years. It’s a little embarrassing.”

Up close, she was more than the pretty face he’d first thought. Her eyes were wide pools of whiskey brown, her lashes so long she’d never need makeup, and her lips—damn, she had a sexy mouth. “You need to get back in the game, Emma.”

She sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“With someone you can trust.”

She looked toward the door. “Easier said than done.”

“Let me take you out.”

Her head jerked up and her gaze met his. “What?”

Yeah, what exactly. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. But now that he had . . .

“You heard me. Let me take you out. We’ll go out somewhere and eat. Use forks and knives. Have a nice conversation and a drink. Then I’ll take you home, walk you to your front door, and call it a night.”

She had this wary look on her face that would have made him laugh if he wasn’t sure she was taking this so seriously.

“That’s it?”

He grinned at her. “Well, that’s not how I usually do it, but for you, sure. That’s it.”

She frowned. “How do you . . . usually do it?”

“Look, Emma. I’m not the dating type. But I like you. And I can see you want to ease into this. I want to help. I want to be your friend.”

Her gaze narrowed. “My friend.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m not your type.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied I wasn’t the type of woman you typically did . . . whatever it is you do with women, since you just said you’re not the dating type.”

He resisted rolling his eyes. This was why he didn’t like having extended conversations with women. It usually led to him getting in trouble for something he said that he didn’t really say, but the woman thought he meant what he didn’t say in the first place.

Women drove him crazy.

“I didn’t imply anything. I just asked you out on a date.”

She crossed her arms, only this time it was in irritation, not defensiveness. “I don’t need a pity date, Luke.”

Shit. Foot-in-mouth struck again. “I don’t pity you. I like you.”

“You already said that. As a friend, of course.”

He clenched his jaw. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. I love being your BFF. It’s exactly how I want you thinking of me. Thanks for the offer, Luke, but I’ll pass. If you have any more problems with Boomer, don’t hesitate to call me.”

She pushed him toward the door, opened it and herded him out, then locked it behind him.

With him on the outside and her inside, he could do nothing but stand there and stare at her, struck utterly dumb by whatever the hell had just happened.

She’d been pissed. Even now, she stared at him as she shuttered the blinds closed, and he could see the hurt in her eyes.

Women were one fucking mystery after another. His ex-wife had driven him batshit crazy, and he’d sworn he’d never get involved with another one.

He’d tried to be nice to Emma, tried to help her out. Hell, he’d even asked her out after hearing her story about not dating for years, figuring she’d be happy to have a night out. He found her hellaciously attractive, but he knew limits, and when a woman was skittish, he could stay hands-off. But instead of being grateful, she’d acted as if he’d insulted her.

He should have left Emma alone. He’d broken his own cardinal rule, and look where it had gotten him.

Tossed out on the sidewalk.

He looked down at Boomer, who stared up at him and wagged his tail, oblivious to what had just happened.

“Let’s go, Boom. Time to get back to work.”


A MERCY DATE. Mr. Hot and Sexy had asked her out on a mercy date.

The sparks between her and Luke had been out of this world. Twice she’d been alone with him, and she might have been a little wary, but she hadn’t been afraid. He was nice. Luke had a good sense of humor, and he was oh-so-fine-looking. And he had a great dog that Daisy loved. If she was going to go out with someone—which she wasn’t—he’d be the right guy.

But then he had to treat her like she was some poor, pitiful misfit who couldn’t get a man to ask her out if she’d put a front-page ad in the hometown newspaper begging for one.

Take her on a date. As a friend. Just to help her out.

“What a colossal douchebag.”

She wanted to throw something. Unfortunately, everything in the clinic cost too much to hurl across the room.

She stormed into her office to grab her bag, Daisy bumping into her leg to shove her head under Emma’s hand.

There was the calm she needed. She absently petted Daisy, then sat in her chair and nuzzled Daisy’s neck.

Was she really that pathetic?

She’d felt the chemistry between her and Luke, had been excited to have those feelings again. She’d thought that maybe . . . just maybe, at some point she could take a shot at having a normal life again after all the hell she’d been through. But she was obviously throwing off some kind of odd signals that screamed she was helpless and pathetic.

Ugh.

She was not helpless, and she didn’t need a guy to rescue her from her self-imposed dating exile. Just because she didn’t have a man in her life didn’t mean she was miserable.

She was fine. Perfectly fine. She had her shiny new practice and her patients and her dog.

What more did she need to be happy, dammit?

She finished up at the clinic and took the dogs home, got them fed and settled, then wandered the kitchen, searching for something to eat.

Nothing sounded good. She felt unsettled, as if there was something she should be doing, but wasn’t.

Her thoughts wandered back to Luke, which got her irritated all over again. Now she had a full steam of mad and nothing to do with all that pent-up emotion.

Since sex was out of the question, she needed an outlet. She’d already gone to the gym before work this morning, though nothing said she couldn’t go again. Then again, that’s not what she wanted.

Routine was her problem. She finally decided she needed to get out of the house. Too much sameness wasn’t good for her, and she’d spent the past week doing the exact same thing every day—going to the clinic, coming home, and spending the night alone.

If she continued that, before long she’d have two dogs and a house full of cats, and she’d park her butt on the sofa watching one too many of those Real Housewives of some city or other.

She refused to let that happen, so she changed into jeans and a sweater, grabbed her keys, and drove to Bert’s, the town’s best diner. A bowl of chili for dinner sounded really good.

The good thing about showing up late was avoiding the normal four to six p.m. dinner crush. Bert’s was a popular place, and Hope was a very small town. Tuesday was meat-loaf night, and she’d had Bert’s meat loaf before. It was awesome. So was his chili.

The place had pretty much emptied out, so she grabbed a table. Anita, one of the waitresses who’d been there “forever” according to her, hustled over.

“How ya doing, honey?” Anita asked, grabbing the pencil from her multicolored hair.

“Great, thank you.”

“You’re in late tonight. I hear the new clinic is keeping you busy.”

The one thing about Hope—and Bert’s diner—was that there were no secrets, and everyone knew your business. Which for Emma’s business could be a very good thing. “It has been busy, which makes me very happy.”