Up close, he’s even more devastating. His jaw is tight, shadowed with stubble. His dark eyes are hard and cold.
Why does he have to be so grumpy all the time?
“Well?” he rasps, one dark eyebrow arching. “Aren’t you going to vaccinate him?”
Shit.
I realize I’m just standing there, staring at him like a complete moron. Heat floods my cheeks, and I nod quickly. I still don’t trust myself to actually speak.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I turn away from him so that I can focus on the task at hand. My hands are shaking just a little as I prepare the vaccination, but I manage to keep it together with some deep breaths. I’ve done this hundreds of times. I can do it with Grim standing six feet away from me, watching my every move.
I can.
I hope.
I wipe down Kaine’s arm and administer the vaccination. My hands are steady now, muscle memory taking over. I make a note in the file, documenting everything properly. Then I go to my computer and do the same.
When I turn around to tell Grim we’re done, the room is empty.
He’s gone.
So is Kaine.
I hear footsteps in the hallway. Grim must be taking him to the holding cell we have here at the clinic. Someone from law enforcement will collect him later, once the sedative wears off.
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and sag against the counter.
Smooth, Wren. Really smooth. No wonder he doesn’t know your name.
I clean up the exam room, disposing of the used supplies and sanitizing the gurney. My movements are automatic, giving my racing heart time to slow back to a normal rhythm. I’m just finishing up when I hear Sally call out from reception.
“Wren! You coming, or what?”
Right. Lunch.
I take one last look around the exam room to make sure everything is in order, then head out to the reception area. Sally is already grabbing her purse, a knowing smile still playing at her lips.
“Ready?” she asks innocently, like she wasn’t just mercilessly teasing me ten minutes ago.
“Yeah, let me just—”
Movement catches my eye through the big glass double doors at the entrance. Grim is walking toward his vehicle, and as I watch, he reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.
I make a strangled noise that I will deny making until my dying day.
His back is a masterpiece of muscle and ink, covered in dark tattoos that wind across his shoulder blades and down his spine. Every movement makes those muscles flex and shift under his skin, and I can see the individual ridges of his abs from here when he turns slightly to toss his bloodied shirt into the back of his SUV.
He’s so damned pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that big before. His muscles have muscles. It’s obscene. It should be illegal. Someone should arrest him and throw away the key.
I’m vaguely aware that my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t seem to close it.
Sally’s laugh breaks through my trance, and I snap my gaze away from the window, my face burning hot enough to fry an egg on it.
“You have it so bad,” Sally says, not even trying to hide her amusement.
I can’t deny it. Not after she just caught me gaping at Grim like a sex-starved lunatic. My cheeks are probably the color of tomatoes.
