It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(20)
Author: Cherise Sinclair
“Relax, pup. I’m going to feed you and then go get myself some food.” It was late enough that the restaurant had closed, but the reception clerk said the bar’s grill stayed open.
He didn’t mind where or what the food was as long as it was hot and plentiful. He was starving.
The new flanker probably was too.
Interesting woman. Undoubtedly in her mid-twenties, but it sounded as if she’d had to grow up fast, forced to be a parent when barely a teenager.
Pretty much the opposite of him.
He’d had a damned easy life…well, right up until his uncle, a career Marine, talked Dad into sending Saxon to a military boarding school where it’d been all about self-discipline and integrity. But he hadn’t taken responsibility for anyone or anything but himself until his veterinary surgical residency in his late twenties.
Now, at a couple years past thirty, it felt as if responsibility was all he had. Owner of a vet clinic, on call for orthopedic surgeries for a large emergency vet hospital. Why he’d been foolish enough to add in SAR work, he’d never know. Much like surgery, a search could be heartbreaking; not all rescues ended up happy ones.
He glanced over at Sherlock. “I’m blaming you for the volunteer work.”
Sherlock thumped the floor with his tail.
After raising her brothers, it sounded as if Murphy had stayed close to them.
He was a tad envious there. Neither of his parents had wanted children. In fact, he’d been conceived as a trap, not a blessing, so he was an only child.
Yeah, he and the quiet new flanker were pretty much on opposite ends of the spectrum.
After combing his hair and leaving it damp, Saxon dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved Henley from his go-bag.
Damn, he was hungry.
“I wonder if Murphy will show up.” He frowned. If she did, she’d undoubtedly avoid him, considering the way she’d almost frozen his ass off during the search. Zoey had gotten smiles from her, and so had Dustin.
Normally, that wouldn’t bother him much, but it turned out she was a damn good flanker. He wouldn’t mind working with her in the future—if she could get past her dislike of him.
At a guess, the problem was Gabi’s spanking. But…it could be that seeing him outside of the Shadowlands made her uncomfortable. Or maybe she despised big men. The only way to find out would be to ask—and possibly push. Given what he’d noted about her personality, she wouldn’t share, otherwise.
After giving the pup his food and making sure the water bowl was full, he pocketed his wallet and keys, then pointed at Sherlock. “You’re in charge of the room. Stay out of the alcohol.”
He heard a snarky bark.
“Sorry, dude, but I’m over twenty-one. I get a beer.” Only one drink though since he’d be on call starting tomorrow morning. Hangovers and operating tables didn’t mix.
A flash lit the windows, and he shook his head. At the house, his two cats would undoubtedly be under the bed. They hated lightning.
Near the entry, he found the hotel bar. Dimly lit. Lots of dark wood, gold fixtures, and foliage plants. A gleaming wood bar at the back was in front of a wall-sized mirror and rows of expensive liquor bottles.
When he caught the aroma of french fries and a burger, his mouth started to water.
The people from the two K9 groups, Fish & Wildlife, and the local SAR volunteers were scattered around the room. Crossing the room, he spotted Murphy at a table with some of their Pasco group. She was listening to the life story of one of the older members—a guy who rarely talked.
Murphy had skills.
“Hey, Doc.”
At the wave, Saxon stopped at the Fish & Wildlife table. “Yo, Ward. How are the puppies?” The guy had brought his Labrador’s litter into the clinic last week for their shots.
“Getting active as hell.” Ward grinned. “Good job searching today. You found her just in time.”
“A good hunt,” Saxon agreed. “Except the kid started off by telling us she didn’t need rescuing and to go away.”
“What?”
The other Fish & Wildlife guys added their own WTFs. One of them filled a glass from their pitcher of beer and handed it to Saxon.
“Yeah. But our new flanker took point on talking to the girl. Takes talent to handle a teen.” Accepting the drink with a smile, Saxon settled into a chair, telling the story. Getting laughter at the diplomacy and negotiation comment.
Finished, he drank the last of his beer and rose. “I better get some food in me. You men take care in your swampy park.”
Getting grins, he started across the room.
“Leave. Me. Alone.” The half-frightened sound in the woman’s voice stopped Saxon in his tracks. Megan, an SAR volunteer, was a petite woman with a blonde pixie cut—and she’d been cornered by a burly, bearded man.
Ah hell. Sometimes he truly disliked his own gender.
Crossing the room, he called, “Yo, M. I’ve been looking for you.”
Relief filled Megan’s expression. “Saxon, can—”
“Butt out, asshole. This one’s mine.” The asshole slapped a hand on Megan’s shoulder, pulling her closer.
Don’t start a bar fight, Halvorson. Saxon managed to smile. “Sorry, but she’s needed in my group.” Moving closer, he looked down at the smaller guy. Intimidation from pure size sometimes worked.
But when Megan tried to get to Saxon, the idiot who’d obviously had more than a beer or two, yanked her hard enough to make her wince.
Fuck that. Saxon stepped in and gripped the man’s wrist hard enough to loosen his grip on Megan—and with his other arm, rammed an elbow hard into the bastard’s solar plexus.
There was an explosion of beery breath before the guy landed on his ass, gasping for air.
Oops. Bit too hard there, doc.
But at least he hadn’t damaged his hands. Back in his twenties, he’d punched a guy’s face and busted a finger—which meant he couldn’t do surgery until it healed. He’d learned. Avoid using hands and go for the soft spots.
“You okay?” he asked Megan.
“I’m good, but thanks. He just wasn’t taking no for an answer.” With a smile, she strode across the room toward their group’s table.