“Oops.” I giggle as Ben backs up, taking me with him.
When the door opens, Mrs. Campbell walks out, the look of irritation still prominent on her face. “Sorry,” I say, not really meaning it.
“A bit early to be doing that, don’t you think?” she says with a sniff.
Nope.
When she finally walks away, I look over at Ben, who is looking at me like he wants to eat me for breakfast. I like the look. It’s not something men usually do around me.
When he takes one big step closer, a look of determination on his face, I laugh, holding up my hand. “You need to get home. Go see Sky.”
“I’ve got a minute,” he growls.
I can’t stop him. I won’t stop him.
He wraps himself around me again just like before, and I cling to him harder. God, the man can kiss. With my back up against the door again, I feel his mouth move across my cheek to the side of my neck.
“Oh,” I say with a sigh. That’s the spot.
“I want you,” he whispers in my ear.
“Yeah?”
I can tell. His entire body is rigid against mine.
“Fuck, yes.”
I want him too, but for some reason, speech has abandoned me.
When he gives my earlobe a little nibble, I can’t help it the moan that escapes.
With one more soft kiss, he steps back and adjusts himself. If he doesn’t get himself under control, everyone is going to see his erection. It’s that noticeable.
When he removes his cap and runs his fingers through his hair again, he smiles. And it’s a radiant smile. One that shows off his straight teeth and full lips.
“I’ll see you at work.”
Work.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ben
I’ve got a goddamn skip in my step. And a hard-on. Hell, maybe that’s the reason I’ve got a happy little jaunt. Okay, I’ll admit that’s only part of it. My fucking smile takes up my whole damn face, and I haven’t felt this way in such a long-ass time. Like there’s something bigger out there. Something better. And by that, I mean Alison Kirby.
By the time I’ve showered and dressed and made my way to the vet’s office, I’m still grinning like a damn fool. The second I open the door to the animal hospital, though, the smile fades. Shit just got real. Stepping up to the front desk at exactly 7:01 a.m., I wait to be acknowledged by the receptionist. When she finally looks up, she says, “May I help you?”
“I came to see my dog.” I’m not sure what else to say, so I go ahead with “Sky.”
“Sky Schilling?” she says in a perky voice. “She’s adorbs.”
“Yeah.” I smile again. “She is.”
“Hang on. Let me check with the doc.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I only have to wait a couple of minutes when another woman steps out followed by the front desk girl. This one is in a white jacket. “I’m Dr. Val Shulte. You can call me Dr. Val.”
I raise my hand to meet hers. “Ben Schilling. I’m here to see how Sky’s doing.”
“She did great last night. She tried to get up and move about, so we placed her in a very small kennel to keep movement to a minimum.”
“All right.”
Dr. Val quickly adds, “We do that to make sure they don’t harm themselves. But she’s eaten a little bit, and she’s had some water as well, which we want to see. We also took her out to see if she’d urinate without any manipulation on our part while wearing a sling, and I’m happy to say that she did.”
“Really?” I smile, thinking about how proud I am of my sweet Sky. Then I have to ask, “What’s a sling?”
“It’s a kind of harness that runs beneath her belly that you can hold on to support her as she walks. We’ll want you to use this whenever she’s up on her feet for at least a week or so.”
“And she did it? She walked? Went to the bathroom on her own?”
“She did.” Dr. Val is all smiles.
Thank God. “Can I see her?”
“Sure.” Dr. Val turns. “Follow me.”
In the back, I’m led over to a row of stainless steel cages. The doctor points to the one in the center. Leaning down, I see the kennel is pretty tiny; it’s barely large enough for Sky, who weighs only about eight pounds. Peeking inside, I see her lying on her side facing away from me on what looks like soft paper with a plastic bottom, like a puppy pad.
“Sky?” I say softly.
When her head jerks back, our eyes meet. Sky makes a whimpering sound that breaks my goddamn heart. I feel my eyes water and let the tears fall.
“Baby girl,” I say with a husky voice. Reaching my fingers through the gate, I try to touch her.
“Here. Let’s open this up so you can pet her.” She pauses. “Gently. Avoid the sutures.”
“Right.” Once the door to her kennel is open, I reach in and touch her face. “Hey, girl.” Sky licks my hand like she hasn’t seen me for weeks. “I love you, Sky. You’re going to be okay.” I really believe it. She’ll be okay just like Alison said.
I spend twenty or thirty minutes with her, after which I sit down with Dr. Val to talk about Sky’s life for a little while. “You can pick her up after work, if you’d like. Otherwise, we can keep—”
“No. I’ll be here around six to get her.”
“We’ll go over at-home care at that time. We have a list of good physical therapy places in LIC and a few in Manhattan.”
“How do people do that? Work and physical therapy?”
“Some people prefer to take their animals for appointments, but some of these PT places have pet care while you’re at work. Those are pricey, but—”
“She’s worth every penny.” And she is. I’ll figure out the money part later. If I have to eat cheap ramen noodles for the next year, I will.
Standing, I shake Dr. Val’s hand and leave. It’s not quite eight in the morning, so I’ll be early to work, for once. It’s too bad I’m suddenly exhausted. Like the “I could fall asleep standing up kind of exhausted.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alison
I’m dreading the day ahead of me, and it stinks because this day started off with a great deal of promise. That is until I realize I may have screwed myself out of a paycheck. One I really need if I ever hope to make it as a self-employed consultant.
Kissing Ben Schilling was a dumb, stupid, and irresponsible thing to do. But it’s done. It’s out there. Now I’ll have to figure out a way to end things with Ben before they get started, and I need to do it as discreetly as possible. The only good thing about his morning? We didn’t talk about work or that stupid green folder.
“Good morning, Alison.”
I’m startled from my thoughts of kisses and doorways by a masculine voice. “Sam.” Too bad it’s him. And so early. As soon as I got back to my apartment, I showered and headed into the office early to get my ducks in a row. Now I kind of wish I hadn’t.