He slowed.
She’d said she was staying a while longer but not all night. The thought sloshed in his chest as he shifted his direction.
He should have checked last night to make sure she’d left. Why hadn’t he?
He knew why—he hadn’t wanted to be pushy. Had told himself to keep his distance.
What a mistake.
Max cut across the yard toward the kennel. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Warmth met him, followed by the unusual quiet of the kennels. The dogs were still sleeping.
But he didn’t see Hadley.
If she wasn’t here, then why was her car outside?
The tension across his back pulled tighter. She could have gone inside the house, he rationalized. She could have stayed in one of the guest rooms there.
There was no need to feel worried yet.
He strode down the aisle, checking each pen.
When he reached Juno, he stopped.
Hadley lay curled on a blanket on the floor. Her arm rested across her midsection, and her face was turned toward Juno and the puppies. Dark hair fell in loose waves across her cheek and shoulders, softening her features in the low light.
She looked like an angel.
Wasn’t that how he’d started to think of her? Not just because of how she looked, but because of the way she moved through the world.
She had such an easy smile. And her eyes often lit when she talked, making it seem as if she’d found something to appreciate in even the smallest things. She carried a kind of brightness with her, a quiet joy that didn’t seem forced or naive—just real.
Max didn’t often notice things like that. Hedefinitelydidn’t go looking for them.
But with Hadley, the thoughts were harder to ignore. The woman fascinated him in ways he didn’t quite understand.
She was entirely too good for Max, but that didn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat as he observed her . . . something he needed to stop doing. Watching her suddenly felt intrusive.
He cleared his throat. “Hadley?”
She shifted as she roused. Her brow furrowed, and she drew in a slow breath before her eyes opened.
She blinked up at him before pushing herself up onto one elbow.
“Max?” She almost sounded confused.
“You all right?”
“Um . . . yes, I’m fine. Just discombobulated, I suppose.” She glanced around, like she was piecing together where she was. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“That floor couldn’t have been comfortable.”
She sat up fully now, brushing a hand through her hair as she winced. “I . . . I didn’t want to leave Juno. And then . . . my exhaustion caught up with me, I suppose.”
She’d had so much going on lately. He knew that. Moving to a new place and then renovating the old antique store and transforming it into her own vet clinic was a lot.
She’d mostly done it alone. Her cousins had been there to help, of course. But anyone in her situation might feel overwhelmed. He’d admired her hard work and dedication.
