I nod quickly. “I wiped her face as best I could right away, so I hope not.” Plaid shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows, and I note he doesn’t wear a watch. Each thumb hooks into his pockets, and he looks deeply into Roxy’s eyes and then scans the room.
“Great job on that, her eyes look clear. With this being indoor wall paint, it’s more than likely water based and not full of lead, but I’ll do a quick check to be on the safe side.” I feel his gaze land on my flushed cheeks. “Where’s the can?”
“They’re over there in the corner.” This guy doesn’t seem like a doctor. He hasn’t even touched Roxy yet, and he’s not wearing a white jacket or scrubs like doctors do. He’s dressed in cowboy boots, jeans and a nice, pressed shirt. Also, I think the phone operator said his name was something other than what he said at the door. “What did you say your name was?”
“Dr. Walker.”
I nod to the gloopy paint puddled next to the tin to direct him to the paint cans. Roxy’s ears prick, and we watch him casually swagger across the room, then he bends down to inspect the cans. As he bends over, my body tilts forward. I have no idea why I’m staring at his ass, but it's mighty fine in those well-fitting jeans. What did she say his name was, Dr…? There it is. A brown leather rectangle stitched onto the top of the back pocket just above his firm looking butt. “Well, hellooo, Dr. Wrangler.” I see it now.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” He swiftly turns back to me. My pulse quickens when he straightens, and I see his build in the sunlight that’s pouring in. He looks tall and strong. Handsome and professional. I like that about him, how he’s thorough and laid back.
“Oh… No, I didn’t.” I try to speak around the lump in my throat and the tingles racing through my body.
“Great news.” The temp is more upbeat now, but it still rumbles in my core with a naughty suggestion. This weird feeling is so inappropriate at the moment. Omigod, this man is here to rescue Roxy from the jaws of death, and I’m perving on his baritone voice and cute ass. “All you need to do is give her a bath. That should do it.”
“What do you mean, all I need to do is give her a bath? I, um… in a real bath or pet bath? Do they have doggy showers - is that a thing?” I look down and even Roxy’s ears drop. It's like she knows this could end badly. “What if she drowns.” My eyes pop wide. “I never bathed an animal before.” The closest I had to a pet growing up was the stray cat who came by the house every few weeks for a cup of milk. “Anyway, look at my phone. It’s smothered in paint, so I can’t even Google it.” I jet my chin out in the direction of the messy phone.
Thick manly brows raise, and he finds my phone with a layer of tan paint. “Uh…” A slow smirk lifts his mouth.
Dr. Sexy Ass takes in the room, scanning the freshly painted walls and puppy decorated floor covering. Once he’s assessed the mayhem, his gaze returns to me, settling on my mouth. With a confident cock of his shoulder his eyes drop to Roxy. “Where’s the bathtub… Miss?”
“Romi…” My heart skips when he grins back at me.
“Well, Romi, the dog needs a bath, so it looks like we’re in this together.”
I smile back at him, feeling a quiver in my belly. “It’s just around the corner here, on the other side of this wall.” I point with my head, as my hands are occupied.
5
I’m dumbstruck.
Where did this fine ass woman come from? I should be giving the Pomeranian the once over, not dragging my eyes over the stranger’s willowy figure and paint splattered tight jeans. And boy are they tight.
“I’ll be back in a sec. I’ve got disposable scrubs in my truck. You can change into them, if you like?” I glance down to dainty pumps. They could be black, but with all that paint, I’m not certain. “I might have an extra pair of boots, if you don’t want to walk around the house barefoot?” The gorgeous woman with golden hair skimming a subtle cleavage and a tiny dog perched on her forearm, just stares at me in silent assessment as I reveal the master plan. Her eyes are the brightest blue I’ve ever seen, so translucent. I imagine they’re as clear as the Hawaiian waters, not that I’d know about that. My last vacation was... never.
“No thank you, I have an extra set of clothes that I can clean up and change into.” I catch myself gawking at those pretty baby blues longer than normal and clear my throat when she shifts on the spot. “I don’t need boots either. They’d be too big and clunky. I’ll try to clean up my shoes, so I can wear them home.”
I’d like to ask her where she lives, but I think better of it.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab some supplies, and then… eh...while you change, I’ll give this little one a bath. How does that sound?”
“If you’re sure?” She blinks slowly.
“I’ll hang around for a bit. She’s not out of the woods yet, so I’ll monitor her for an hour or so. In the meantime, I can make myself useful and help get this room cleaned up.” I’m lying straight to Romi’s pretty face. The dog will be fine. Even if it ingested the slightest bit of paint, she’ll live to see tomorrow. Quickly turning on my heels, I walk out of the den. The second my soles clatter the walkway I take in a huge breath.
She’s stunning, even with paint matting the tips of sleek straight locks. The way she stood before me, all sheepish and startled, made my heartbeat quicken. Without thinking, I nudge my zipper to reposition my dick. Ummm, she’s a pleasant surprise on a busy day. Romi has this damsel in distress aura going on, and I’d quite happily be her knight in shining armor. I’ll rescue her any day… until my phone rings and I get called away, because those are harsh facts. I’m an on-call vet who barely makes it to Jackson’s on Friday night to hang out with the guys, never mind rescuing a female and holding on to her.
I mentally kick my own ass back to Heartville. Lifting up medical supplies stashed in the back seat, I grab a green bottle of animal shampoo, and thankfully, there’s a clean towel. I had to toss out the last one after I had my arm armpit deep in a pregnant heifer’s back entrance. That stuff sticks like glue. I shake my head and smirk. Romi doesn’t need to know where my arm was last week. That’s not the kind of details women like to hear.
She’s talking to the dog when I saunter back inside. I’m used to chatting with the animals myself, yet when she realizes I’ve been listening, her swarthy skin deepens to crimson.
“Here you go. I’ll take Roxy around the corner for her bath.”
Romi dangles the fluffy dog between us and smiles shyly. “Thanks, Dr. Walker.”
“It’s Clay.” I wink, gather the dog up in the towel and hold her into my chest. Nestled close, I scratch behind its ears. Keeping my eyes low, I stop myself from finding another thing about Romi that’s appealing to me. “Come on in and help get this thing washed when you’ve changed out of those clothes.”
Romi looks down at her paint covered attire. “I’m a mess.” She giggles.
It’s a soft girly laugh, not too cutesy with just enough rasp to give me a reason to quickly get the hell out of the room. I don't want her to look down and see the bulge forming in my jeans. It’s been a while since I’ve reacted to a woman this way.