“Excellent. If you walk him twice a day and take him to the park, it will help work off all this energy he has. Also, I highly recommend neutering him. You don’t want him to get out and father a bunch of unwanted pups, do you? And it will help settle him.”
“Oh, of course. Let’s do that.” She smirked. “Roger won’t like that. Men and their . . . equipment, you know. They take it so personally. I’ll tell him it was your suggestion and he’ll do it. And I’ll make sure we walk him.” She patted her stomach.
“We could all use the exercise.”
The morning flew by in a blur of shots, exams, worming, and one tiny and filthy pit bull puppy someone had found in a ditch. She was a mass of flea-bitten adorable, a brown and white baby who’d either been abandoned or lost. The person dropping her off said she couldn’t keep her because she had two Rottweilers at home and couldn’t possibly handle one more dog, but she couldn’t leave her shivering in the morning cold, either. Though it was spring and the days were warming, the nights were still cool.
Emma assured the woman they’d clean her up and find her a good home. She examined the pup, and other than needing a serious flea bath and a good meal, she was healthy, thankfully. She gave the pup to Leanne, who took her away to give her the flea bath and her first round of puppy shots.
She only had time for a quick bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she’d packed for lunch when the second round of afternoon clients came in. Daisy wound her way around the clinic, checking in on Rachel and Leanne as they did their work, too. Emma was so thankful to be this busy, she had no complaints. They were jammed all afternoon until the last pickup at closing, when her staff finally left.
It was quiet. She swiped her hair out of her eyes and breathed a sigh of utter contentment as she walked around the clinic.
It had been a good first day. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d worked so hard for. She’d lost sight of it for a while and thought she’d never have it.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Daisy’s ears perked up and she bounded out of the office at the sound of the deep, booming voice in the lobby.
Emma had thought she’d locked the door.
She hurried out to see a man holding a German shepherd by the leash who sat regally while Daisy tried to play with it.
“Daisy, come here.”
Daisy came over and sat dutifully next to her, her tail whipping against Emma’s lab coat.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah. I saw your lights were still on and was hoping you’d still be open. My dog hurt his leg.”
He came toward her, and she took a wary step back, until he walked under the overhead lights and she saw he was wearing a cop uniform. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“You scared me there for a second.”
“I’m really sorry. Luke McCormack. I’m local police here. This is my dog, Boomer.”
McCormack. Last name sounded familiar but she couldn’t remember. She’d definitely remember a guy who looked like him. Tall, broad shouldered, wearing a uniform that fit him—very well. Dark brown pants, lighter brown shirt. Gun strapped to his hip. Very dark hair, cut short, full lips. Serious expression, which only made him look . . .
Hot. Sexy. Though she didn’t think about men being sexy these days.
As he approached, she noticed the dog was only using three of his legs to walk on.
“Oh. What happened?”
“We were chasing a perp—uh, a suspect. Boomer must have twisted his leg in a hole or something because he yelped and came up limping. I was headed toward the Barkley’s vet clinic and saw Doc Weston’s office was open again, so figured I’d stop here first. If you’re closed, I can—”
“Of course, I’ll look at him. Bring him on back.” He walked side by side with her and she noticed how very tall and broad he was. Daisy wound between them, licking the officer’s hand and staring up at him adoringly.
Yeah, some watchdog you are, Daisy. Daisy wasn’t exactly what one could consider a personal bodyguard, unless excessive licking and an overabundance of affection counted as weaponry.
Emma led the officer into the exam room and flipped on the lights, then turned around and knelt down, trying to calm her stupid, raging heartbeat. She smiled at the dog. “Okay, Boomer. Let’s take a look.”
“Boomer. Sit,” the officer said.
The dog sat and she examined his leg. He whimpered as she pressed on it. After finishing the exam, she lifted her gaze to the police officer. “Officer McCormack, I’d like to get an X-ray of this leg. I don’t think anything’s broken, but I want to be sure.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“You can come back with me. It’ll calm him to have you there.”
She brought them back to the X-ray room and he helped her get Boomer on the table while she got his leg in place for the X-ray.
“So, you bought Dr. Weston’s practice?” he asked
Again, that voice of his. Deep and seriously sexy. It was doing something to her nerve endings she found decidedly . . .
Uncomfortable wasn’t the word. She just noticed his voice. And so did her body.
“Yes. I bought it right after he retired.”