“Yeah. We have just over an hour. I’ll meet you there, Dr. Cutie.”
I rolled my eyes at the nickname but smiled as he brushed past me to his cruiser, opening the passenger door and arranging the kitten in the seat. Checking her over and nodding with satisfaction, he walked around to the driver’s side and gave me a wave before getting in.
Waving back, I didn’t wait for him to pull out first. Getting on the highway, I tried to use the easy drive to clear my head and think about the nonprofit I was volunteering with this weekend, not the sharp jawline and miles of muscles that was Officer Handsome when my check engine light blinked on.
That wasn’t good.
I’d just replaced the water pump, and no regular maintenance was due. I hit the power button on the stereo and listened for any weird noises. Thank goodness whatever was wrong wasn’t obvious. Maybe it was a malfunction. My SUV was close to ten years old. Odd stuff was bound to happen.
Pulling intoPet World,it was hard to worry about any potential car trouble when I spotted him walking closer. He’d changed out of his uniform shirt and was wearing a dark T-shirt that did nothing to take away from his thick, corded forearms.
In his hands was the hoodie, and two tiny ears were peeking over the hood.
Holy hotness.
His black boots were polished to a shine. You could see your reflection in them, and his eyes were darting this way and that, completely aware of his surroundings. He looked like a force to be reckoned with, and kitten or not, it was intimidating as hell.
He strode past me, then looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows like I was putting him behind schedule.
“Thank you for taking what I said about caring for her to heart,” I said, taking several steps to catch up with him. Mark nodded and looked left and right, clearly unsure of where he was going.
“Alright, Dr. Cutie,” he said. “Lead the way.”
He swept one arm in front of him, then brought it to the top of the kitten’s head, giving her a little scratch. Tugging on his arm, I grabbed a buggy and pulled him toward the cat section. I noticed a large compass tattoo covering his forearm and sweeping down his hand as we walked. The intriguing design had me staring as we headed down the first aisle, gathering items.
He picked out a pink cat bed, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling when I watched him pick up a tiny purple collar with sparkles and a bell. He hid it under the cat bed and cleared his throat, piling cat toys on top.
“No, Mark. Get this one,” I said as he picked up the biggest litter box on the shelf. “She’s too small to use that.” I picked up a shallow box and a small bag of litter, putting them in the cart.
“But if I get the bigger one, I won’t have to scoop cat turds as often,” he said, running his hands through his hair.
“Yeah, and when she can’t get into the box, she’ll leave a nice little present for you somewhere in your house.”
“Damnit. Okay,” he said, putting his choice back and grabbing the buggy from me. “So, how many pets do you have?”
“None. Just plants.” I tossed a feathered rattler in the buggy for Chick and Duck. He stopped pushing and looked at me with his eyebrows pinched. I raised mine in confusion. “What?”
“Nothing. I just don’t get it. You’re a vet, but you don’t have any pets, and cats hate you,” he said like I was some great mystery to be solved.
“Um. I have a ton of plants and a pregnant possum that lives underneath my back porch. But those wouldn’t count as pets in the traditional sense. I feel like I’m too busy to take care of a pet.”
“The way you took care of this spitfire, I just figured you had a whole herd of animals.”
Mark shrugged his shoulders and patted the kitten’s head, picking up a container of treats. I took it from him and replaced it with a better brand before smiling. I was figuring him out. He was gruff and to the point, but not an asshole in any way. More like he wasn’t going to waste his time saying fifty words when fifteen would do.
I tossed a squeaky toy in the buggy and looked at him. “Nope. Just a vet who loves plants and is a treasure-trove of useless facts.”
“Tell me one then, Dr. Cutie.”
“Did you know there are volcanic snails?” I said, not missing a beat. “They’re called Scaly-Foot Snails, live by hydrothermal vents, and are the only known living creature that incorporates iron into its skeleton.”
“Seriously? That’s wicked. Where did you learn that?”
“I wish I could tell you it was when I was interning with volcanic researchers in Hawaii, but really, I just read it in a book.”
“Wow. You and I read vastly different books.”
“Hmm, let me guess,” I said, making a big deal of stopping and putting my hand on my hip like I was thinking hard. “You’re into spy novels and espionage.”
