I stand there long after she’s gone, feeling panicked as the loneliness inside me expands. I tell myself I did the right thing. That we were getting too close. Too damn comfortable.
But I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped myself. Could she have felt the same way? Or am I just a fool?
The only thing I know for certain is that I can’t let this happen again. Not with her. Not with anyone.
But the pull is already there—stronger than before—and I’m not sure how long I can fight it.
5
GREER
True to his word, Kellan takes me to the clinic the next morning, presenting me with a room that looks like it hasn’t been used in years. There are kennels and washing stations. Everything I need to start a grooming business.
I spend the greater part of the day cleaning, and trying to stay out of Kellan’s way. Not that I have much success—he keeps finding reasons to check in on me.
First, it’s to drop off a stack of clean towels, his big frame filling the doorway as he watches me wipe down a metal exam table. His dark eyes linger a second too long.
Then it’s to bring me a bottle of water, his fingers brushing mine when he hands it over. The contact was brief, accidental, but it sent a spark racing up my spine. His jaw ticked as if he were fighting the same jolt, and he pulled back too fast, grumbling about hydration before disappearing down the hall.
But I guess I could be imagining things.
By late afternoon, the room is starting to look livable—shelves organized, counters gleaming—and for the first time ina long time, I feel as though I’ve accomplished something. Like maybe I’m not so hopeless after all.
Kellan pokes his head in, eyes scanning down to the floor I’m scrubbing. I glance up and my heart does a tiny flip. Thank heavens I don’t yelp.
He crosses his arms over his broad chest, flannel sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing corded forearms dusted with dark hair. “You’ve been at this all day,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “Take a break.”
I glance around the room, and a kernel of pride blooms deep in my chest. “I’m almost done.” I push a stray hair from my face with the back of my wrist, suddenly hyper-aware of how I must look—flushed, messy, on my knees in his space.
He steps closer, boots thudding softly on the tile. “Greer, you’re pushing yourself too hard.”
I sit back on my heels and look up at him as he towers over me, all rugged mountain man and barely leashed intensity.
My pulse kicks up, heat pooling low in my belly. I’ve never felt this kind of awareness before—not with anyone. But with Kell, it’s like my body woke up the second I stepped onto his porch.
I think back to when I was just a kid watching him roughhouse with my brother. Wanting him so badly I could hardly breathe. But not like I do now. I used to dream of holding hands and the occasional kiss—only on the lips. Those fantasies have now been replaced with thoughts that would make a sailor blush.
He crouches down slowly, bringing his face level with mine. Close enough that I can smell pine and clean sweat. His gaze drops to my lips for a heartbeat, then flicks back to my eyes. “Come, watch the phones for a bit.”
I follow him into the lobby, hauling the six enormous books I checked out yesterday from the library to study.
A woman comes in for a well visit for her golden retriever, Milo, and Kellan teaches me how to weigh the dog and give it what he calls ‘a sanitary snip’, cutting the hair on its backside to keep him fresh.
During check-out, Kellan tells the woman that he plans on offering grooming services in the future, and he’d love it if she would allow us to practice on Milo, to which she enthusiastically says, “Yes!”
It isn’t long before I’m checking in patients on my own and getting to know a few of the townsfolk, all of whom are kind and welcoming.
At around noon, an enormous man who looks like he’s trying to rival Kellan for the position of town grump comes limping in with a German shepherd.
Kellan hands the dog, Chief, over to me to weigh and clip his nails. He’s a polite client, and his owner, Rhett, allows me to give him double treats.
The afternoon lulls, so I crack open my math book and struggle through a section, feeling like I’m in over my head.
“Why the frown?” comes Kellan’s booming voice from across the receptionist desk.
I push the book away. “I was fine when it was just X I had to find, but then they threw in a Y, and a bunch of symbols I don’t know.”
“Let me see.” He comes around the receptionist's window and leans over my shoulder, one hand braced on the chair, the other resting on the desk. My skin prickles with awareness, stirring sensations in me that are best left buried.
