She let out a huffy breath. “I’ll pay you back. I already told you. Just keep track.”
He made a move to tunnel his hands through his hair but stopped before spreading doggy blood over his head. “Is there a bathroom around here?”
A woman at the front desk pointed down a hallway. “Over there.”
“Thanks.” He stood and moved in the direction she had pointed.
Why couldn’t he have looked the other way when he saw Reagan Campbell at the airport? For eight years, she’d lurked in the back of his mind and he had wondered, what if her dad hadn’t threatened him to stay away from her? What if Jimmy Baldwin hadn’t burst into the closet that night? What if he’d had the balls to track her down after college?
All those years of wondering had finally passed, and now he found himself carting her ass to Miami on a wild goose chase with an injured dog, a dented rental car, and a maxed-out credit card. He could hardly wait to find out what the next two-hundred miles had in store.
14
“You’re sure she’s going to make it?” Reagan asked as Dr. Gupta entered the waiting room. Zach had gone out front to call the car rental place and see about a replacement vehicle. He didn’t think they’d be able to make it the rest of the way on a bent rim.
The vet sat down in the chair across from her. “The X-ray shows it’s a clean break, but we are going to have to do surgery. We’ll cast her leg, and she’ll have to stay off her feet for several weeks. I’ve given her some medicine for the pain and can go ahead with the surgery if you’d like.”
“Oh, she’s not my dog. We hit her on the highway while she was trying to cross. I thought I explained that on the phone,” Reagan said.
“You did. She doesn’t have a collar, and I checked for a microchip. Based on her appearance, I think she’s a stray. That means either you take responsibility for her, or I have to turn her over to the humane society.”
“What would they do with her?” Reagan asked.
“I’m not sure. I estimate she’s around twelve to eighteen months. But surgery will be expensive so they may opt to euthanize.”
“You mean put her down?”
Dr. Gupta nodded. “There might be a no-kill shelter willing to take her. I can make some phone calls in the morning. But she needs the surgery as soon as possible if we want her to have the best chance of healing.”
Reagan couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for the poor dog being put to sleep, couldn’t bear to see another living thing suffer. “Please go ahead with the surgery. I need to know she’ll be okay.”
“I’ll need you to fill out some information.” Dr. Gupta stood and walked to the desk where she picked up a packet of forms. “Once you have this complete, hand it in at the counter over there and we’ll get started.”
Reagan took the clipboard the vet offered. Zach would more than likely be pissed about having to plop down his credit card on her behalf again. But what was the alternative? Take off for the beach, knowing they were responsible for ending a poor creature’s life? She rummaged through her purse for a pen and began to fill out the forms. When she got to the payment portion she took a deep breath and stood. Here goes nothing.
She walked through the sliding glass doors into the cool night air. Not quite as warm as it would be in Florida, but at least there wasn’t a blizzard raging.
Zach sat on the curb, his head resting in his hands. “Everything all right with the beast?”
“That’s what I came out here to talk to you about. The dog needs surgery. Can I have your credit card number for the form? I promise I’ll pay you back. Plus interest if you want.” She stopped a few feet from him.
“Sure.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Which one do you want? You’ve already done enough damage on my Amex. Let’s work on the Visa next.” He handed her a platinum card.
“Zach.” Reagan shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“Hey, you weren’t the one who nailed the dog with the front bumper.”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for me. Are they going to be able to get us a new car?” She clipped the credit card to the clipboard as Zach got to his feet and stood beside her.
“The office is closed now. They suggested we find a place to stay tonight, and they’ll get us a new vehicle in the morning. They open at ten.”
Reagan glanced at her watch. “But that’s twelve hours from now!”
He shrugged. “Either that or we limp down the highway on a bent rim and wait for the whole wheel to fall off.”
She didn’t say a word, just cradled the clipboard in her arms.
“What do you want to do? I’m open to suggestions. This whole damn thing has been nothing but a clusterfuck. One disaster after another. I should have known better.”
“Should have known better than to what? Am I that bad?” It seemed like they’d been working together, but apparently he felt otherwise.
She waited for him to answer but he stood there, staring at his hands.
“Well, guess what? I relieve you of your duty. You’re no longer responsible for me.” She turned to go back into the building, wiping at the corner of her eye as her body whirled away from him. She wouldn’t show any signs of weakness. No matter what.
“Dammit, stop for a sec.” His voice lost its sharp edge and a deep sigh followed his words.
Reagan stood with her back to him. His arms wrapped around her, coming to rest across her ribcage, right under her chest. His touch should have made her pull away, but it ignited a slow, deep burn in the bottom of her belly. Heat radiated out from where his hands clasped together, spreading through her torso and out to the extremities of each limb.
Every part of her became aware of Zach’s presence: his warm breath on her neck, the undeniable male scent enveloping her, the delicious feel of his chest pressed against her back. She wanted to elbow him in the ribs and dash into the safety of the clinic. She also wanted to twist around and capture his mouth in hers.
Before she could do either, the familiar spasm racked her diaphragm and a hiccup broke through her lips. Her cheeks flamed. She ducked her head, attempting to cover her mouth and suppress the next uncontrollable outburst.
“Hey.” Zach’s soft whisper danced across her ear, sending a wave of shivers cascading down her entire right side.
He gently turned her in his arms, and she waited for the next hiccup to bubble up. His finger went under her chin, tilting her head up to his. She didn’t want to face him, to see the look of amusement and pity she was so sure would be reflected in his eyes.
Reagan dared a glance. No pity, no humor. Just concern. There was something else there as well.
As his gaze searched hers, his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Her focus shifted to his mouth, a perfectly kissable full bottom lip and the scar running through the top one. Because of a dog bite. He’d told her he didn’t like dogs. Yet he’d rescued the one inside, scooped it up in his arms, and detoured to an all-night vet.
For her.
Her heart stalled in her chest. He was going to kiss her. The realization sent a delicious chill down her spine. She held her breath, waiting, anticipating the contact. Another hiccup rose from her diaphragm, but then Zach’s lips were on hers and the spasm faded.