“Maybe not, but I know what all men want.” She reaches around and pulls on the tie holding her wrap dress closed. The dress falls open, and then she shrugs her shoulders as the dress falls to the floor.
My eyes burn into her black lace bra and thong underwear. She has a gorgeous body. And she’s right; I’m a man in need of fucking a woman’s brains out. The only reason I’m fighting it at all is that I hate when Noah is right. It will only empower him to pull shit like this again.
“Wait for me in my bedroom, down the hallway to the right.”
She smiles.
“And, if you tell Noah about this, you’re fired.”
9
Skye
My hands continue to do compressions over the small puppy’s chest. I’m exhausted. I’ve been trying to save this puppy for three hours now.
Most vets would have given up a long time ago. He was hit by a car, and most of the bones in his body are broken. He has internal bleeding that I know I can’t stop. And he’s been touch and go since he arrived.
But he’s a fighter, and I won’t give up on him. So, I keep doing compressions, trying to convince his heart to keep beating.
“Skye,” Alicia, my vet technician, says in a stern voice.
I keep pumping my arms over the puppy’s small chest.
“Skye, it’s time,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder.
I know she’s right. That he’s already gone. But, for some reason, it’s harder for me to give up on the strays than the ones who have an owner. At least the ones with an owner had a good life. They were loved.
This puppy grew up alone. He’s barely eight months, and if the car accident hadn’t taken his life, starvation most likely would have.
“Time of death: six thirty-three,” I say, stopping the compressions.
I stroke his head. This is the hardest part of the job—when I can’t save them. This is what I was put on this earth to do, and when I fail, I’m lost.
“You should go home. You weren’t even supposed to be on duty today,” Alicia says.
I nod. I’ll go. I’m too exhausted to be of any use here.
I walk like a zombie to my office to collect my things, and then I start walking the half-mile down the road to the small farmhouse that I call home.
Usually, I like the walk. It gives me time to clear my head before I’m greeted by my herd of animals. But not today. Today, I don’t want to think. Today is hard.
My thoughts go back to the beach. To Brody, as the
y often have these last couple of months since I returned from my vacation. And I feel the familiar feeling of anger take over. It’s easy than the pain I feel when I think about the puppy that I couldn’t save. A puppy that didn’t even have a name.
I open the door to my small farmhouse and am greeted by my four mutt dogs. “Hey, Sherbet, Grumpy, Ernie, and Lady,” I say, greeting each dog.
I try to smile, but I just can’t today. Even Ernie’s infectious grin isn’t enough to warm my heart. Not today.
I walk the few feet to the back door and open the door to let them out into the backyard. I might be exhausted, but my day doesn’t end when I come home. I have three horses, two cows, six chickens, three pigs, a rooster, four dogs, and three cats that rely on me. So, I follow the dogs out into the yard and get to work. Thankful to have something to keep my mind occupied instead of my lonely thoughts.
The sun is setting fast by the time I’m about finished feeding and giving the animals the attention they need. I start walking back up the field toward the house to make myself something to eat with the dogs fast on my heels, excited that it’s time for them to get fed as well.
I sense him before I see him. My body is used to being alert for when I feel danger nearby.
“You’re not welcome here,” I say, grabbing on to Grumpy and giving the rest of the dogs a look to stay by me.
They all do, sitting carefully next to me as they intently stare at the stranger.