Tyler’s attention shifts around my tiny lobby as if searching for something.
“Hi, I’m Cory, Marie’s vet tech and admin.” She rounds the desk to offer him a broad smile. “And you look awfully familiar.”
His smirk is coy, as if he knows she’s feigning cluelessness but is willing to play along. “Do I?”
“This is Tyler Brady,” I supplement, mainly because I don’t want this exchange to drag on any longer than it needs to. “He won the Iditarod this year.”
“That’s why I know your face. It was plastered all over the local news.”
Local? More like statewide, along with the major national outlets. And Cory spent several days buying up the various papers just so she could drool over the sport’s new golden boy.
“I have a snake waiting for surgery, so if there’s nothing else …” I’m already moving for the door to the back of my clinic.
“Wait.” Tyler holds up a hand. “Can I have a minute or two of your time?” He pauses, steals a glance over his shoulder at Cory, still gawking shamelessly at him. “In private?”
My heart races. What does he have to say that needs privacy? “Cory, can you get the room prepped for surgery?”
“Sure thing, boss.” She trots over to flip the In Surgery sign before disappearing into the back, mouthing “so hot” with dramatic flair at Tyler’s back on her way past.
Despite everything, I struggle to suppress my laugh. “So? What do you need?”
He falters. “You’re operating on a snake?”
“Apparently. The owner tried to feed his pet python a wild rat to save money.”
“Ouch. The kid who just left?” He jabs a thumb toward the lot, though Ivan’s long gone.
“Yup. And now I have to remove one of its eyes.” While I’ve never been a fan of reptiles as pets, I don’t relish seeing any living creature mutilated.
Tyler’s cringe morphs and his hand goes to his face. He looks to be hiding his amusement.
“This is getting old, fast.” I guarantee when I tell Jonah this story, he won’t even bother to hide his deep bellow of laughter.
“Oh, man.” He loses the battle, flashing a wide, honest smile that shows off those straight, white teeth my father was admiring. “Tell me the fool didn’t make that joke.” His chuckle is deep and soft, and I fight my own threatening smile, despite the morbid topic.
“It’s not funny.” And I can’t allow myself to be drawn into Tyler’s easy charm again. “Did you get in touch with Don?”
His laughter dies and he smooths his expression. “That’s actually why I’m here. I don’t want Don Childs, or Frank, or anyone else.” He settles his steady gaze on me. “I want you.”
His words and that look make my breath hitch. They don’t mean what I wish they did, but it’s nice to hear all the same.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “For my dogs,” he amends. “I want you to be my dogs’ veterinarian. I guess I wasn’t clear enough the other day.”
“No, you were. I just …” What is my valid excuse for peddling another veterinarian on him, besides the truth, which I’m not about to spell out in painstaking, embarrassing detail?
“You just what?” he urges.
“You said you don’t want to complicate your life. Well, neither do I.” And my gut tells me that spending too much time with Tyler will complicate everything for me.
“Complicate it how? Because of Harry?”
“No.” I laugh, though taking on Tyler would definitely complicate my relationship with the Hatchetts. But it already seems to be heading down that path. Harry grumbled at my monthly billing proposal and decided it best to keep things as they are, but he didn’t seem happy about it. Where that will lead—if anywhere—I don’t know. My father’s convinced it’ll go nowhere, and I hope he’s right.
Tyler’s forehead puckers. “Okay, then, is this because of what happened in the tent—”
“No.” My cheeks burn. Not just the tent. It’s about everything to do with this man, and how I find myself drawn to him. It’s about him breaking the law and risking his reputation and career to spare a dog’s life, and how he spends his summers watching over the parkland I love, how every time I find myself in Tyler’s vicinity, I’m acutely aware of him, and when he’s not around, he’s in my thoughts more than I care to admit.
It’s about how perfect he would be for me, if not for his unwavering devotion to his late wife. But even that is endearing.
Most of all, it’s how I don’t want to repeat past mistakes, how I need to guard my reckless heart.
“I don’t understand, then. Are you too busy here?” He gestures around the clinic. “Do you have too many clients?”
He’s handed me the perfect excuse. It would be so easy to lie, and yet I can’t form the simple yes.