Dr. Duvall and I worked well past closing this week, coming up with a game plan to transition some patients to other clinics since we were downsizing, and agreeing on a fair buyout. He was also willing to see patients part-time while I oversaw renovations. Not that I knew anything about turning a doctor’s office into an animal shelter, but I could learn anything, and I already had a kick-ass name picked out.
“Jenna,” three baritone voices said as I opened our largest exam room that suddenly looked about as big as a broom closet with the amount of testosterone and muscles it currently held.
Maverick, Miller, and Magnum surrounded Phoebe, sitting in the middle of the exam table looking like a healthy, petite princess. They were all wearing stonewashed jeans that looked painted onto their thick thighs, black work boots, and matching hunter green polos with the company lightning bolt logo in the corner.
“Hey, you three. I figured Bev would bring her by today. How’d I get so lucky?”
I shook Maverick’s hand and clapped the Irish Twins on the shoulder before picking up Phoebe and giving her a once over. I couldn’t help holding her close and cooing to her a little, not even taking offense when she hissed.
“So you going to tell us about Wilmington?” Miller asked, suddenly turning around and focusing on a poster describing how to tell if your cat is overweight.
“Not pulling any punches, are you?” I asked, holding Phoebe by the scruff of her neck and flipping her over to check her incision. “You going to at least look at me or keep pretending to read that poster?”
“Damn, Doctor,” Magnum said, raising his hand for a high-five. After slapping his palm, I handed Phoebe over to Miller, who cradled her like a baby before facing the three-amigos like it was our very own Mexican stand-off.
“Listen, guys. I’m not moving to Wilmington. Actually, I’m going to buy Dr. Duvall out of the clinic, downsize, and turn it into a shelter. I want to gut the whole thing and put in huge windows and daylighting. I don’t know a thing about commercial interior design, of course,” I said with a shake of my head.
Maverick tilted his head and looked at Magnum, then nodded toward me, like they were having a silent conversation.
“So yeah. I, um, didn’t grab her vaccinations. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“You’re not going to ask about him?” Maverick said, crossing his arms over a chest just as broad as Mark’s.
“I was respecting his space, guys. He could be here,” I said quietly, looking at the floor, then up, and up some more until I met the eyes of Mark’s brothers.
“He’s working nights again, Jenna, and he’s not doing great,” Maverick said, taking a step forward as Magnum and Miller flanked behind him.
“I understand, and it’s not all butterflies and unicorns in my personal life right now. I can’t even sleep in my own damn bed, so my back feels like I’m an eighty-five-year-old arthritic woman, but I’m also not the one with the relationship-cop-dad-thing,” I said, waving my hand in front of me like they would understand and drop this conversation.
“What cop-dad-thing-relationship,” Magnum said, mimicking the gesture.
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head and waving my hands in front of my face. “Not my circus, not my monkeys.”
“Guys, go flirt with the receptionist,” Maverick said.
“Oh, eighties hairspray chick? On it,” Miller answered, passing Phoebe over to Maverick and walking out the door with Magnum in tow.
Maverick stared at me, tall and intimidating with dark hair, miles of rigid muscles, and sad eyes. He cradled the kitten as if his head was also full of a thousand reasons he was steering clear of relationships.
“Tell me what’s going on, Jenna. Please,” Maverick said.
I looked into his sad eyes. Eyes that held pain I never wanted to see echoed in the depths of Mark’s beautiful, soulful, black orbs.
“It’s not my place to share something he hasn’t told you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I know about love, and I know about loss. And if Mark is throwing away a chance at something real, I need to know why. He deserves happiness, and so do you.”
I could see this was a losing battle, and Maverick made sense…sort of.
“Mark chose to stay single when he joined the force because of a conversation he had with your dad. Your dad said if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t be a cop because of the stress it put on Bev. Mark decided to end things. Wait, that’s not right. It was his decision never to start anything, but somewhere that got muddled.”
“Oh shit,” Mav said, passing me Phoebe so he could run his hand through his hair in such a Mark-like gesture I couldn’t help but smile. “Mark’s got it all wrong. I have to go. Tell Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb to meet me back at the office.”
“Wait a second!” I said, grabbing Maverick’s arm as he put one hand on the doorknob. “It’s not your responsibility to fix this. Hell, we never even said goodbye.”
I let go of his arm and looked at the floor, taking a step back into the small space. Maverick didn’t answer, striding out of the exam room and leaving me with a bewildered expression on my face. Magnum and Miller turned from talking to Dana to see him go, not bothering with a wave or goodbye. I motioned them back to the exam room, and they shared a knowing look before following me in and closing the door.
“What was that about?” Magnum asked, reaching for Phoebe, who gave a little squeak before climbing up his shirt and attempting to bury herself in Magnum’s neck. He nuzzled her close, looking back at me for an answer.
