Jill Shalvis - Then Came You

“What are you doing” Sara asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar. You’re looking for your turtle.”

“He’s not my turtle. Sammy,” she called, wading into the grass. “Sammy?”

When he appeared at her feet, she had to sit down on the step in relief. “Oh God,” she said. “He’s totally my turtle.”

Sara sat next to her. “Yep.”

“This is how it starts, isn’t it?” Emily, having bad flashbacks to their house growing up, filled with the rescues her father could never bear to let go, shook her head. “We keep him, and then the next thing you know, I’ve also brought home a dog, a cat, a sheep, and an iguana.”

Sara went brows up. “Iguana?”

“It could happen. I’ve lost control. Every surface of this place’ll be covered with cages and crap. We’ll be a zoo.”

“I don’t actually think we have approval for that from our landlord,” Sara said, looking amused. Her smile faded. “You’re not going to turn into him, you know. Dad. And so what if you did? He saved a lot of animals over the years. Hell, babe, have you looked in the mirror lately? You became a damn vet.”

“I love animals,” Emily said. “I just plan to have a life as well.”

“I know,” Sara said. “Everyone knows about your damn plan. How many days left?”

“Three hundred and twenty-seven.” Emily looked at Sammy. He was watching her with his obsidian eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was some judgment there. She picked him up. “You’ll be in good hands,” she promised him.

But would he? Would the new tenant of this house feed him, look out for him? Not mow the lawn so as to avoid accidentally killing him? And what about Q-Tip?

Or her own heart?

“Uh-oh,” Sara said. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you’re at the edge of a cliff peering down.”

Emily blew out a breath. “I made a tactical error tonight with Wyatt.” She paused. “Horizontally.”

Sara laughed. “Again?”

Emily sighed and stroked Sammy’s head. He gazed up at her adoringly, or so she wanted to think. Probably he was hoping for more strawberries. “Just like a man,” she said to him. “Flashing me the eyes to get what you want.”

Sara took Sammy from Emily and set him down. “Emily,” she said solemnly. “I thought we had this talk.”

“I know. Me becoming an animal collector isn’t a sign that I’m going to go bat-shit crazy like Dad—”

“No. You’re not bat-shit crazy at all. You’re just a woman who’s always given everything to the people in her life who she loves, who’s always looked out for everyone but herself, and now maybe you’re a little lost, that’s all.”

“The lost part might be true,” Emily whispered.

“So, Dr. Sexy?”

Emily covered her face with her hands. “It’s not my fault. He’s just . . .” Everything.

Sara reached out and pulled Emily’s hands from her face. “He’s your supervisor. He shouldn’t be coming on to you.”

“You don’t understand.” Emily huffed out a mirthless laugh. “It’s not Wyatt coming on to me. I’m the one who can’t control myself!”

Sara hugged her. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can tell me the truth. I’ll bury the body deep.”

Emily laughed again. “I realize you’re not attracted to hot and sexy men, so you’re going to have to trust me on this one. It’s all on me.”

Sara was quiet for a long beat, considering. “Well, I still think you need to talk to him. Tell him that this isn’t fun and games for you, that you’re going to get hurt.”

“I can’t do that,” Emily said. “I’ve told him time and time again that this isn’t in my plan. I’m trying to ignore his damn sexy ways.”

“Well, you could always switch teams,” Sara suggested. “It’s better on my side of the fence.”

Emily set her head on her sister’s shoulder and sighed. “If that was true, then you wouldn’t be hiding out here in Sunshine nursing a broken heart.”

It was Sara’s turn to sigh. “True that.”

At the end of the next day, Wyatt stood behind the front desk watching Emily attempt to print one of her files. When she’d said “Crap!” for the third time, he leaned over her and did it himself.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, craning her neck to glare at him. “Why didn’t you do that five minutes ago?”

He smiled and showed her how to print the day’s receipts as well. Still leaning over her, the inside of his arm brushed the outside of hers, and she went still.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“It’s something. You moaned.”

“Did not.”

He stared down at her bowed head. Her hair had fallen forward, revealing the nape of her neck, a spot he badly wanted to put his mouth to.

As if she could read his thoughts she shivered.

Christ. They were in trouble.

A truck pulled into the lot. “Damn,” he said, not sure if he was grateful or frustrated at the interruption. Both, he decided. “So close to escaping on time tonight, too.”

Emily let out a breathless laugh. “There’s actually an on time?”

“Only if you run fast.” He gestured with his chin for her to make her escape. “I’ll take this, you head out.”

“No,” she said, stubborn to the end. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”

He looked into her fierce eyes and felt more than a physical arousal. Far more. “Emily.”

“I mean, what if it’s another woman in the Casserole Brigade?” she asked.

“Then maybe I’ll get something good for dinner.”

“And if she wants something in return?”

He smiled. “Depends on how good the casserole is,” he teased to lighten the mood.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not even funny.”

The driver of the truck walked in wearing jeans and a police sweatshirt, hoodie up, badge and gun on his hip, carrying a brown bag in one hand, the leash to a young pit bull in the other.

Wyatt recognized him as one of the players on the police team that he occasionally played flag football against. The guy worked for the county on Highway Patrol.

“We’re just closing up here,” Emily told him. “Do you have an emergency?”

The guy gave a nod to Wyatt as he came up to the counter and leaned on it casually, smiling at Emily. “No emergency,” he said. “Just been hearing about our new vet in town. You’re as pretty as they say.”

Wyatt mentally rolled his eyes and glanced at Emily, figuring she’d be doing the same as she had a very accurate bullshit meter.

She was smiling back at the guy. WTF?

“That’s sweet,” she said.

Sweet? How about stupidly cheesy?

The cop removed his dark sunglasses and pushed back his hoodie. “Evan Russell,” he said, and held out his hand.

“Emily Stevens.” She shook the guy’s hand and looked at Wyatt. “And this is Dr. Stone.”

Evan gave Wyatt a cursory nod. “Brought you something, Dr. Pretty,” he said to Emily. “I’ve got a ranch full of animals at home, so I thought knowing the pretty vet might come in handy.” He set the bag in front of her.

“A bribe?” she asked.

He smiled. “Open it.”

She opened the bag, inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes on a blissful sigh. “Chocolate chip cookies. Heaven.”

Evan smiled. “There’s more where those came from.”

“I bet,” Wyatt muttered.

Emily looked at him. Evan didn’t take his eyes off Emily. “So how’s Sunshine been treating you so far?” he asked her.

“Well, the traffic’s not as bad as it was in L.A.”

Evan chuckled. They all knew traffic was nonexistent in Sunshine. Well, except on the days that the errant cow escaped a ranch and stood in the middle of the road. “I think we’ve got more to offer you than better traffic. You ride?”

“You mean motorcycles?” she asked.

He chuckled again, and Wyatt had to resist the odd urge to put a fist through the guy’s mouth.

“Horses,” Evan said.

“Oh.” Emily smiled. “No. Not yet.”

“I’ll take you. You live nearby?”

Wyatt shifted. If she told the guy where she lived, he was going to have to kill him.

And then her.

“Not too far,” she said, reminding Wyatt that she was no pushover. She was in fact, a city girl, smart. Wary. Tough.

But so was Evan, and he wasn’t easily deterred. “Name the day,” he said.

“I’ll think about it,” Emily said.

Evan nodded, and gestured to the bag of cookies. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I will.”

He spent an extra few beats holding her gaze, and then walked out.

Emily dug into the bag and took a bite of cookie, sighed in pleasure, and then offered Wyatt one.

“You shouldn’t eat stuff from people you don’t know,” Wyatt said.

She laughed. She laughed so hard she choked on the damn cookie and he had to pound her on the back and bring her a glass of water.

When she could breathe, she grinned up at him.

“You ever worry about eating the things all those women bring you?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it seems different when it’s a guy.”

She just kept grinning. “Guess you’re not the only one getting in on the Casserole Brigade, Dr. Sexy.”

“Dr. Sexy?”

“Oh, like you don’t know it.” She took another bite of cookie.

“You didn’t give him the almost boyfriend line.”

Emily cocked her head at him. “You’re jealous.”

“Bullshit.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I’m perfectly willing to share.” She opened the bag and held it out to him, smiling guilelessly.

He stared at her, realizing they were on entirely different pages, and found himself laughing. “You don’t have a clue,” he said softly.