They won’t fit into your bike’s saddlebags when you decide to hit the road. Is it fair to make them love you when you won’t be around?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were not only about the kittens but herself. She sighed and dropped her gaze to the table. Not giving him a chance to speak, she clicked into professional mode.
Checking their teeth, she determined that they had probably just been weaned, therefore felt certain they’d had no vaccinations. She called for Tonya to bring what they needed, and while waiting, her heart melted at the way Joseph carefully cuddled each one, playing with them while making sure they didn’t get too close to the edge of the examination table. She even heard his sharp hiss each time a kitten was vaccinated as though he was the one getting the shot.
After Tonya left the room, she scooped up the closest one, and he did the same with the other. He walked around to her side of the room and stood directly in front of her with little space between them other than for the kittens to be able to rub against each other. She lifted her gaze, finding his eyes pinned on her. Unspoken longing blanketed the room, blocking out everything other than the desire to lean into him. He bent, and with her face upturned, he kissed her lips lightly. Warning bells be damned, she wanted this man and knew there was no way she could protect her heart. She leaned forward but he suddenly shifted back, and she halted.
“I… I… uh… I’d better be going. I’ll get them home,” he said, his voice gruff.
Jerking slightly, she nodded, plastering a smile—or what she thought might be a smile—onto her face. “Yes, sure. Um, you can check out at the front.” Her emotions tumultuous, she swallowed hard, blinking to keep the tears that threatened from falling. As he stalked out after the kittens had been gently replaced into the cardboard box, she watched as his tall, muscular body walked away. And she doubted her sanity for having agreed to one night with him. Dropping her forehead against the door frame, she sighed.
“Dr. Collins, patient in exam room four.”
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her head. “Got it,” she called out, shoving her feelings to the side.
Joseph swiped his hand over his face while standing in his living room, staring out the window. He’d wandered the apartment, twitchy, as though his body was too big for his skin. Samantha’s words rang through his head. What is best for them? They won’t fit into your bike’s saddlebags. Is it fair to make them love you when you won’t be around?
After he’d left the clinic, he’d come back to town and carried the kittens, a litter box, and the bag of food up to his apartment. They’d pressed their faces into the bowls, eating greedily. Making sure they had water and nothing they could get hurt on, he let them explore the living room before they curled up tightly together, taking a nap. Two tiny little balls of fur that were totally dependent on him. And no desire to flee set in. Instead, he was filled with a desire to stay.
Sighing, he dropped his chin and stared at his boots for a moment, wondering what the hell he was doing. Suddenly, he turned, and after a quick check to make sure the kittens were still sleeping and safe, he headed out to his bike. Roaring out of town, it only took fifteen minutes to make it to the Eastern Shore Animal Shelter.
He parked his bike but sat with his long legs on either side, his booted feet resting on the concrete as he looked up at the building. Samantha had mentioned the shelter’s needs in her talk at the AL meeting. When he had paid at the reception desk for the kitten’s clinic visit, he’d noticed a sign on the wall reminding clients of the need for food donations for the animal shelter. The nondescript brick building was set on a side road with green farmland all around. The sounds of dogs barking could be heard in the distance. Swinging his leg around, he secured his bike and helmet, then headed inside.
The reception area looked very much like the vet clinic, only there was no bustling of employees. A bell sat on the rather plain desk, and he rang it, the ding causing the barking in the back