Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,38

on its own.”

“Stiches would have left less of a scar.”

I looked down at it. “I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“You have such a perfect leg.”

I looked up, expecting to see he was teasing. But he looked serious, and my heart gave a little flip.

I tried for a joke. “Are you telling me I’m flawed now?”

“No.” His gaze was intent on mine.

I tried again. “Because I think it gives me character.”

He didn’t respond to my joke. In the still of the office, the ventilation system whirred above us, and his thumb moved again against calf.

I knew I should move, take my leg from his lap, and pull my jeans back into place. But I felt like I was made of jelly, like I was melting into the soft chair beneath me.

“It’s not surprising that you’re afraid of dogs,” he finally said.

I forcibly roused myself. “I try not to be.”

“I’m sure you do. Have you ever told anyone about this?”

I shook my head as I moved my leg. “Cecily thinks I don’t like dogs. But it doesn’t come up very often. The Annalisa thing, that was really unusual. I live in an apartment in Manhattan. Pets aren’t allowed in the building, and they’re normally not allowed in the office either.”

“You shouldn’t hide from your fear.”

“I’m not hiding from it.” I pushed my pant leg back into place.

“Avoiding it then.”

“It avoids me mostly.”

“Not today.”

I couldn’t disagree with that.

“I know how to help you move on,” he said. “Animals are an important part of a well-rounded life and a well-rounded psyche. Dog owners live longer.”

“Are you trying to sell me a dog?”

“I’m not trying to sell you anything.”

“Because it sounds like you get a commission or something.” I wanted to lighten the mood, maybe switch the focus away from me.

“We can do this, Laila,” he said. “You and me.”

“Why?” I was honestly baffled. “Why are you so determined to help me?”

“It’s my civic duty . . . as a veterinarian. And Becky owes you. And Madeline likes you a lot.”

“Why do you feel like you’re responsible for the whole town?”

“Well, most of them are Rutters.”

“You can’t take care of them all.”

“I don’t. But I want to take care of you.”

“I’m not a Rutter.”

He smiled then and bushed a lock of hair from in front of my eye. “You most definitely are not.”

My limbs wanted to melt with longing. “Is Victoria a Rutter too? Another cousin, maybe?” It was a hard pivot in the conversation, but I needed to know if I was way off base here.

He looked surprised by the switch. “A couple of generations back. But sure.”

I was ridiculously relieved to hear it.

He smiled and stood up. “You look better. Let’s go.”

“You mean home?” Even with my sore hand, I was disappointed to cut the evening short.

“I mean back to the shelter. There’s no time like the present to get started.”

Something banged in the reception area, and I jumped at the sound.

“You guys back here?” Victoria called.

It took Josh a second to call out. “We are.”

Victoria appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

“She’ll be better in no time,” Josh said, sending me a conspiratorial waggle of his brows.

“It was just a scratch,” I added. I held up the bandage to prove it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Victoria said. “Everybody’s fed. Pooh-Pooh is in a bit of a snit since Reno and Vegas got an unauthorized jaunt, and Butch seems a bit antsy after all the excitement.”

“I’ll take him for a run on the beach,” Josh said.

“I should be heading back to Madeline’s,” I said.

“Just a quick stop at the shelter,” Josh said. “Then I’ll drop you off.”

“I can walk.” It was only about seven blocks back to Madeline’s house.

“It’s no trouble,” Josh said.

“You’ve got things to do,” I said back.

“I insist,” he countered.

“What am I missing?” Victoria asked.

We both turned our heads to look at her. “Nothing,” we said simultaneously.

*

I didn’t expect Josh to broadcast my secret to Victoria or anyone else. But to put an end to both the argument and Victoria’s curiosity, I agreed to let him drive me home.

We returned to the shelter where some of the dogs were still eating while others had settled on various beds inside each of the pens. Reno and Vegas were snuggled together on a puffy dog cushion while Pooh-Pooh looked majestic and self-satisfied sprawled out on a large, trampoline-like raised bed.

Pooh-Pooh really was a princess, and I couldn’t help but smile at her obvious attitude. I supposed if you could get away with it,