Running Wild (Wild 3)

As if his response will be the deciding factor.

His eyebrow arches.

I know Jonah too well to mistake that look for anything other than excitement, anticipation.

Determination.

He wants Calla to stay. Quite badly, I’d guess. He can’t even peel his eyes from her anymore. It’s as if he’s ensnared, and they’re the only two people in the room.

And that expression filling his handsome face right now?

A numbing dread sinks deep into my bones. Jonah has never looked at me that way before.

CHAPTER ONE

Today

January

“Can we put this on my tab? Lori decided Christina needs braces, and she’s hounding me to pay for them. I’m good for this, as soon as I get paid.” Brad watches me with those expressive green eyes—eyes that I once found appealing.

“This isn’t a bar. And you still haven’t paid for Clementine’s last visit.”

Hearing her name, the wiry ferret clambers up his chest and lets out a distinctive clucking sound.

Brad winces. “But my ex … you know what she’s like, right?”

No, I don’t, but I know him. Brad Garvis is a divorced, thirty-nine-year-old welder from Wasilla who rarely sees his kids and works a second job under the table so he doesn’t have to pay more in child support. I know this because I made the mistake of dating him several years ago. He’d been brazenly flirting for months during a series of visits for his three sick ferrets. I thought him attractive, but he was a client, and besides, I was staying single until the moment Jonah realized he was madly in love with me.

And then Jonah started dating Teegan, a pilot with the coast guard. In a moment of weakness, tormented by mental images of them together, I agreed to a dinner date with Brad, followed by several more. I knew it would never go anywhere, but it was a suitable distraction for a time.

I should refuse him, but that eye infection is nasty, and it’s Clementine who’ll suffer if she doesn’t get these drops. “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes with the prescription.”

His shoulders sink with dramatic relief. “Oh man, you’re the best, Marie.”

Yeah, the best at being a sucker.

“I promise, I’ll settle up by Friday.”

“Uh-huh.” Can he hear the doubt in my voice?

He’s halfway out of the exam room when he stalls, crooking his head curiously. “Hey, you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve hung out. I don’t even remember why we stopped.”

Because Jonah broke up with Teegan. But whatever existed between Brad and me had already run its course.

“What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’ll be in the villages,” I lie. I’ve started doing remote vet care through virtual consultations, especially through the winter months. Besides, my trusted pilot is currently in Hawaii on his honeymoon, cursing tourists and complaining about the humidity, if his latest text is any indication.

“Maybe another time, then.”

I offer a tight smile. “Yeah, maybe.” No thanks. I may be lonely, but I’m not desperate, and I’m never dating another client again. Ever.

Ten minutes later, I’m locking the door and flipping the sign to Closed, my three-hour Sunday morning clinic hours I offer once a month having flown by.

“You should have made him pay,” Cory announces from behind the desk, her disapproval soaking her tone as she stares out the bay window. “He can afford it.”

I watch Brad trudge down the narrow path—through snow I shoveled in darkness this morning—toward a new, freshly washed black Dodge Ram. She’s right. That wasn’t even an outrageous bill. I don’t know why I always find myself in positions like this. Oh yeah, I do. Because I’m a chump who can’t say no to helping an animal. “Next time he calls for an appointment, tell him he needs to settle up before you’ll book him.” And it’ll likely be soon, because that bacterial infection is contagious, he has two other ferrets at home, and he gives them more attention than he does his human children.

“With great pleasure.” Delight flashes in her large azure eyes as she reaches for a printout with one hand while typing on the computer with her other. In the next beat, she’s up and sauntering across the room toward the filing cabinet, her wavy chestnut-brown hair a thick curtain reaching halfway down her back, her curvy figure moving with a blunt confidence I’ve always envied.

Cory has been my type A receptionist since my mother retired, keeping this place running far better than I ever could. Eight years later, she has earned her vet technician credentials but refuses to give up the office role, so she juggles both—booking appointments and running blood tests (and of course, accepting a larger paycheck) with proficiency. I’d be lost around here without her, and I will be should she ever leave. I’ll need to hire two people to replace her.

My gaze wanders out the window again, to the cabin nestled among the snow-laden trees. It’s a small, one-room structure, meant as a rustic, short-term guesthouse rather than the permanent residence I’ve turned it into. My father would crash there sometimes when this place was his and he didn’t want to make the two-hundred-yard trek to our house on the other side of the property.