Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,35

to grab her. She was a wiggling mass of energy and exuberance. She wasn’t going to be happy about going back into her pen.

“Laila,” Victoria prompted as she began cornering the other dog.

Reno had found a mesh bag of toys and was tearing into it. I ordered myself to move. This was my fault, and I had to help clean it up.

Reno was a little dog, I assured myself. She seemed like a happy little dog. What was the worst that could happen here?

I wasn’t going to die. Worst case scenario, I might get a little bite on the hand, just a nip. It might not even bleed. And I was willing to bet all these dogs were up to date on their rabies shots. Josh would have made sure of it.

I wasn’t going to die. Fear pounding inside my head, I forced myself to move forward.

“Reno,” I crooned as I approached her, talking to soothe myself as much as I was to soothe her. “Come here, Reno.” I smiled, thinking that might help, even though she was completely ignoring me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “You must be hungry. I have food for you.”

I drew closer.

Reno was still tearing at the mesh bag. It looked like she was going to chew her way through it any second now.

I had to do it. It was now or never.

I swooped in, reaching down to grab her around the belly.

She turned. Her eyes went wide. She jumped to one side, turned on a dime, and ran for the other side of the room.

I wasn’t as agile, and my momentum kept me going. I fell forward, my hands hitting the mesh bag of rubbery toys. There wasn’t a lot of stability to it, and I fell over sideways, hitting a box of kitty litter that sprayed into the air.

“What on earth?” It was Josh’s voice.

I twisted to see him in the doorway.

Reno rushed toward him, and Josh deftly scooped the dog into his arms. “What is happening?” he asked, obviously fighting to keep from laughing.

“Little mishap,” Victoria said. She had the other dog safely in her arms.

I’d bruised an elbow, and I was mortified to have Josh see me in yet another dog catastrophe.

He deposited Reno back into his pen and set the food dish inside as well before closing the gate. Then he turned to me.

I waited for him to laugh. It had to be coming. Instead, a look of concern came over his face and he moved my way. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I just wanted the moment to end. “We were feeding the dogs, and I didn’t know about—”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, reaching down to help me up.

“What?” I looked at my elbow, but I didn’t see blood. “She didn’t bite me.”

“Of course she didn’t bite you,” Victoria said as she put the other dog safely back in the pen. “Reno’s a sweetheart. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Your hand,” Josh said.

I looked at my right hand. It was fine. Then I looked at my left and saw the blood running to my fingertips. I didn’t know how I’d done it, but there was a decent-sized cut on the back of my hand and over my wrist.

“That’s weird,” I said. I hadn’t felt a thing.

“I can disinfect it,” Josh said.

“I just need a Band-Aid,” I said. I looked at Victoria. “Do you have one handy?”

Josh frowned. “You need to disinfect it.”

“Listen to the good doctor,” Victoria said. “He’ll fix you up.”

“I don’t need a doctor.” It wasn’t a serious injury. “Besides, he’s a vet.”

“A vet with antiseptic and sterile bandages,” Josh said.

“You’re bleeding on my floor,” Victoria said.

“Sorry.” I quickly changed the angle of my hand.

Josh took me gently by the other arm. “This way.”

“I’m not a cocker spaniel,” I said.

“I’ll say. Cocker spaniels are friendly.”

“Hey!”

“You’re also not fuzzy, floppy-eared, and four-legged.”

“I have no idea how to take that.”

He smiled and touched the tip of my nose. The gesture felt incredibly intimate, and it shut me up on the spot. “Nope,” he said. “Not a canine, and I’m an expert.”

He urged me toward the door.

Chapter Seven

Josh’s veterinary clinic faced the street.

He led me through a tidy waiting room with a reception desk, faux-wood floors, muted lighting, and comfortable-looking vinyl chairs, and into a pristine exam room. Except for the short, metal examination table, it looked a lot like my doctor’s office—plus there was a cute cartoon of dogs and cats hanging on the wall.

“I like that,” I said of the pastel painting.

“Becky