“Okay. Shit.” He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Okay,” he repeated. He straightened his spine and jerked his attention to the door. “Someone’s coming.”
“What?”
“Will you get fired for crying?” He looked so confused.
And now she was confused. “I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
“Here,” he rushed out. He snatched up his dog and put the poor frozen critter up on the table.
Quinn gasped when she saw her monstrous reflection in the man’s aviator sunglasses. Raccoon eyes thanks to the double helping of mascara she’d used this morning and her nose was as red as Rudolph’s. Which would be fine if she wasn’t staring into this sexy Adonis’s face.
The door behind her opened, just like the man had said it would, and she jumped. The man’s giant hand clamped on her upper arm when she began to turn, stopping her.
“So, you see, I think it’s his diet.” The stranger gave a friendly smile to whoever had just wandered into the room.
“Quinn, are you taking this one?” Gertie, the other vet tech asked. “I could’ve sworn Dr. Voss told me to take room three.”
“I want Quinn,” the man said in a tone that brokered no arguing.
A chill washed over her skin at the authority in his words. No longer was he the man fighting for dominance with a scared hound mix who was apparently afraid of weeping women. Now, he was a man who knew his place in the world and expected others to react accordingly.
“Right,” Gertie said. “I’ll just get the next one then.”
When the door clicked softly closed, Quinn let off a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“Dade.”
“I’m so sorry, Dade. This is not at all how this clinic is run. I’m just… I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Did a pet die?”
She nodded miserably.
Dade took off his sunglasses. His eyes were the color of the ocean, blue and green, and gentle as he clutched his dog to his chest. “You’re a soft-hearted little thing, aren’t you?”
For some reason, it made her stomach lurch to nod her head yes. Dade didn’t seem the type of man who had much use for soft-hearted things. Which was a stupid thought because she wasn’t exactly a part of his life. She didn’t even know the man.
Petting his scared pooch, she said, “You know, pussies, if you’re speaking of cats, are actually quite tough.”
Dade’s blond brows lowered. “Huh?”
“You told your dog to stop being a pussy when you dragged him in here.” She scratched the dog behind the ears. “And you’re not a pussy, are you big fella?” She dipped her voice to the one she used with her own two Yorkshire Terriers at home. “You’re a big tough guy, just like your daddy.”
“Oh, he’s not my… You think I’m a tough guy?”
Heat filled her cheeks when he paid her such direct attention. She’d never been good at speaking to people. Chronic shyness made social interaction awkward at best, which was the main reason she worked with animals. She connected with them in a way she hadn’t ever been able to understand people. “Am I wrong?”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled slowly and studied her. “You have no idea how right you are.”
Another chill brushed up her skin, and she dropped her eyes, unable to hold his clear aquamarine gaze. He was pointing out how dissimilar they were. She got it. She just didn’t understand why he felt the need to put them on two different planes.
“Right, let’s get this guy checked out then, shall we? What’s his name?”
“Tank.”
She tried to ignore Dade’s attention as she ran a thorough check-up on Tank. The hound relaxed as she petted and talked to him, but when she left and came back with the trio of shots he needed, the dog started whimpering before she even uncapped the needles.
Dr. Voss opened the door, but as soon as she saw the dog, she nodded knowingly and waved her clipboard at Dade. “Good to see you and Tank again. I’ll be in shortly to do his final evaluation and give you his heartworm prevention.”
“’K,” Dade said, his focus still on Quinn.
It was unsettling how intense the man was. Soft one moment and distant the next. She couldn’t get a good read on him.
She lined up the needle as Dade held Tank, but the wailing was getting to her, tugging at her heartstrings. She didn’t want to hurt him, especially not now when she was emotionally ragged after witnessing the poodle pass away. She hesitated, needle hovering over Tank’s fur.
“It’s okay,” Dade whispered, encasing her hand in his.