“So do you, Marcus.”
Touché. I walked right into that one.
I cleared my throat and stood up, stacking some empty plates and mumbling about doing the dishes. As I opened the sliding glass door to head back to the kitchen, I heard Jenna ask about the proper way to trim a bonsai plant. By the time I turned around to close the door, Miller was joking with her about trimming her own dick topiary, and Maverick had retreated to the far corner of the patio with another beer.
She looked like she belonged with my family—like she fit it. As I turned on the water and started the dishes, I felt like an outsider.
20 - JENNA
“Okay, Kim. You’re doing great. Check the pulse oximeter and make sure Melissa has the area thoroughly cleaned with chlorhexidine scrub.”
I pushed down my nervousness at having a veterinary student handle Phoebe. I felt crazy overprotective of the little pipsqueak and her growly owner but kept my hands by my side instead of snatching the instruments out of Kim’s hands and doing everything myself like a lunatic.
Kim was competent, with steady hands and a whip-smart memory. She was going to be an asset to whatever practice snatched her up. Hell, she correctly diagnosed malignant hyperthermia in a beagle last week, and that case stumped Dr. Duvall and me.
She picked up the scalpel and made a perfect incision below the umbilical scar, all while talking through each step, exactly how I preferred she handle every surgical procedure. I nodded, barely having to adjust her movements as she worked. As she finished the last intradermal suture, I blew out the breath I swear I’d been holding for the last half hour and checked Phoebe’s vitals for the hundredth time.
Both patient and student did terrifically, and I followed Melissa as she carried Phoebe to her holding area and placed her on one of Mark’s shirts, taking a moment to send Mark a selfie of a thumbs up with her in the background, sound asleep. Mark called, but I didn’t have time to answer, only grabbing a donut hole and a drink of coffee before moving on to the next patient.
It was already lunchtime when I finally had time to call him back, but he was on shift and didn’t answer. Probably for the best. I slumped down at my desk and slipped off my shoes, untying my scrub cap and leaning back. Dinner last night with his mom and brothers was amazing, but I was getting too close, getting attached.
Something changed since the night at the restaurant, since the night in his truck, and it wasn’t just fucking in his truck. Well, it wasn’t only fucking in his truck. I could see myself with him, but I couldn’t let myself fall for someone that wasn’t available. My phone buzzed, and I dug it out of my pants pocket, smiling at Addison’s message.
Addison: Taco Tuesday and Margaritas?
Me: Normally hell to the yes, but I’m beat.
Olivia: You mean you’re too tired from beating off Officer Big-Dick?
Addison: All aboard the train to pound town. Choo-Choo!
Me: I wish. My period is ruining my life for at least another day or two.
Annaleigh: All the more reason to get toasted, but how are things with Mark?
Me: Confusing.
Olivia: ???
Addison: GIF of head exploding
Me: He made it clear he doesn’t want a relationship, even though he calls me baby and reads me books. I think I’m catching feelings.
Olivia: Oh fuck.
Addison: Fucking feelings or feelings feelings?
Me: Both?
Annaleigh: You need to pull back. Give yourself space.
Me: I know.
Olivia: Are you okay? What about Wilmington?
Me: I don’t know, and I’m still talking to the director.
Addison: Well, keep us in the loop. Hey, want me to send you a silicone mold kit so you can make a replica of his dick? That way, you can always have a reminder of him. I found one with purple sparkles the other day. Oh, we can call him Sparkle-Dick!
