Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Everyone agreed that RC’s range of motion was the most important factor, and going ahead with removal seemed like the prudent choice. That decided, we went over the necessary details, but my attention kept drifting back to Carson. I was eager to go find him after the appointment concluded, but Scott waylaid me in the hall as we exited the conference room.
That red-alert siren in my head resumed shrieking as he stepped in front of me.
“I see you haven’t changed,” Scott observed conversationally as if we were old friends catching up, which we definitely were not.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrowed my eyes at him, considering whether he had any basis for guessing about Carson and me or if he was about to bring up more tired arguments.
“Still idealizing the life of the small-town vet.” Scott made a vague gesture. Yup. Same old beef. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes as he continued, “You could easily do the procedure yourself if you had the right facility and support. You were a damn fine equine surgeon, Jude.”
“So I was.” Somehow, I managed a flippant tone, as if the decision to leave my role here hadn’t been agonizing. At the time, I’d been swamped with so much guilt and anguish over my father’s passing that I’d felt I had no choice. Eight years on, though, I was way more certain it was the life for me. “I’m also a damn good small-town vet. It suits me.”
Scott made a loud, skeptical noise. “And your social life?”
“What about it?” I pursed my lips. No way was I admitting even a twinge of loneliness to Scott.
“Are there even any other queer people around in the boonies?” He raised one eyebrow as if he’d already come to a conclusion.
“Not my business to share.” I glared at him. Maverick and Colt were hardly hiding, but I’d never divulge private client info like marital status. And if I’d found the singles scene more than lacking, I sure wasn’t confessing that.
“Closet cases.” Scott snorted.
“Didn’t say that.” I put the full weight of my frustration at his narrow-mindedness into my voice. “But I’m not a gossip.”
“I know.” Scott let out a heavy sigh, all the bluster leaving his expression as his shoulders drooped. “I’ve missed you. Been what, eight years? Yet you continue to plague my thoughts every so often. You’re a hard act to follow.”
My teeth ground together. Yesterday, Carson had said the responsibility wasn’t mine alone, but the amount of regret swarming through me certainly didn’t feel that way. I’d hurt an otherwise decent friend. Anger at my naive obliviousness at the time made my voice come out low and strained.
“I’m sorry for how things ended, but I couldn’t be what you need, Scott.”
“You could have tried.” Scott’s tone was sharper than a set of spurs digging into my side.
I shook my head, unsure how to answer in a way that wouldn’t cause further hurt. As I deliberated, Carson approached from the other end of the hallway. Relief surged through me.
“Got a list of exercises for Linus.” Carson held up a stack of papers as he came up next to me.
“Great. We can—”
Scott cut me off with a frustrated noise. “We were—”
“Finishing up.” My turn to interrupt. I needed out of this conversation in the worst way, and while I hated using Carson as an escape, no good would come of rehashing old wounds with Scott.
“Fine. Have it your way.” Scott’s voice was measured, like I was trying his patience, but clearly he had decided to return to being a professional in front of Carson. “Dr. Song will be in touch about RC’s procedure.”
With that, he bustled away, leaving a rather confused Carson squinting at me.
“We can head to the truck.” I strode toward the elevator.
“You could have talked longer.” Carson used a reasonable tone as he followed me, as if he wouldn’t have minded one way or the other. I would have.
“No, I couldn’t have.” I rolled my neck from side to side as we waited for the elevator. Didn’t help.
“He wants you back.” Carson stated this as a fact, not a question.
“I’m not on the market,” I shot back as the elevator arrived. I stabbed the button for the first floor.
Carson stayed quiet for a long moment, giving me a lengthy considering look. Hell. I hadn’t meant to imply either disinterest in a repeat with him or expectations neither of us wanted.
“I suck at sharing,” Carson said at last before I could clarify my statement.
“Me too.” I met his gaze, reams of unsaid words passing between us.
A growl tried to escape my chest at the idea of Carson fooling around with someone else. An unfamiliar possessiveness made me shift my weight from foot to foot, body torn between reaching for Carson and fleeing the second the elevator opened.