Beth should have known better.
She groaned. No, this was a growl because she…was…mad. How could he go back on his word after last night? After the way he kissed her, the things he said?
“I’ll be right back, okay, girl?”
Beth patted Midnight on the nose, and the mare snorted in response.
Then, as best she could with the boot still slowing her down, Beth stormed out of the empty, Dr. Murphy-less barn.
She mumbled under her breath all the way to the clinic about waking up early and letting Eli be a distraction when she knew she should be focusing solely on her recovery. But she’d googled it. Horseback riding was great for strengthening her core. It promoted stability and flexibility, both of which were really hard to work on with limited mobility. Riding would keep her from having to bear weight on her left leg and would keep her in shape for when she could actually start dancing again. All she had to do was not fall off.
Actually, all she had to do was get on the horse, but without her MIA riding instructor, that wasn’t happening.
When she found the clinic door locked, she hesitated. She’d never been inside Eli’s house or apartment or whatever he called the living space attached to the back of the clinic. Two weeks of working with the man and living on his property, and he hadn’t so much as invited her over for a cup of coffee. Storming up to his front door—or was it technically a back door?—somehow felt like a violation.
Then she heard it, the squawking.
“It’s just a chicken,” she reminded herself aloud as she walked along the side of the clinic to the fenced-in yard—and chicken coop—that lay beyond.
The squawking grew louder.
“She’s not going to peck your eyes out,” Beth continued through gritted teeth.
Beth paused at the gate and squinted as the morning sun glared back at her. She swore she saw an un-chicken-like figure sitting in the grass outside the coop, but the sun in her eyes made her second-guess whether it was a human, an unusually short scarecrow, or possibly another animal that might see her as the enemy like Lucy and Ace had.
She steadied herself with a calming breath, unlatched the gate, strode hesitantly through, and then relatched it behind her.
Using her hand as a visor, she slowly made her way across the grass and toward the coop, waiting for a hen to attack with each step.
Another squawk sounded as she approached, but the closer she got, the more she also heard…chirping.
Beth stopped short of a pair of cowboy boots that were crossed, one ankle over the other. As her vision cleared, she followed the long denim-clad legs up to where they met Eli’s broad torso. In his lap paced a half dozen baby chicks. Another roamed in circles around the upturned cowboy hat sitting in the grass, and one more sat on Eli’s shoulder, pecking at his ear as he threw his head back and laughed.
Good god, that smile. And he was covered in chicks. Baby. Chicks. How the hell was Beth supposed to muster anger at being stood up when this sort of sight lay before her? It was like a page out of a Twelve Hunky Cowboys calendar. The best page.
Still not having been noticed, Beth cleared her throat. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, attempting the most defiant expression she could muster while her palms grew clammy and her throat dry.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Eli crooned, his infectious smile audible in the words. “Am I late? Jenna… The chicks and the coop belong to her. She dropped the chicks off yesterday afternoon. They were part of some library egg-hatching experiment, and she’d offered to take the females. Came out to check on them and…well…” He gave her a one-shoulder shrug, careful not to jostle the chick on his other one. “Got a little carried away.”
Beth opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind about being inconsiderate and making her think he’d pulled a disappearing act again, but then she realized Eli had done nothing of the sort. He’d simply been distracted by unexpected happiness, which looked really good on him.
“Squawk!”
Beth startled, taking a couple of steps back. Her gaze darted left and right, looking for her assailant.
“Lucy’s inside the coop,” Eli assured her. “She likes to boss the younger hens around early in the morning. I just wanted to give these little ladies some time in the sun.” He gently picked up the chick that was on his shoulder and cupped her in his palms. “You want to hold one before I put them back into their brooder?”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ll admit I’ve been getting better with the animals in the clinic. You know…the ones that are already domesticated? But these are brand-new wild creatures. They are living on pure instinct right now, and most of that instinct says that I am the enemy.”
Eli narrowed his eyes. “And Midnight? She’s about as wild as they come, yet you want to hop on her back and let her decide whether she thinks it’s a good idea after the fact.”
“That four-legged beast is an anomaly.” Beth nodded in the direction of the barn. “I can’t explain why, but I trust her, and I’m pretty sure she trusts me.”
Eli nuzzled the chick on the top of its head, then deposited it onto his lap with the others. He patted an empty swath of grass beside him. “Come on. I promise it’s safe.” He held out his hand to help her if she needed.
She fisted her hands at her sides. “Do you promise to sacrifice yourself if they turn into baby chick zombies that want to devour my internal organs?”
To his credit, Eli didn’t miss a beat. He crossed his heart and said, “If it buys you a few minutes of safety before they finish me off and come for you, it would be my honor.”
Beth groaned. No man had the right to be this charming this early in the morning.
She took his hand and clumsily lowered herself to the grass, scooting up beside him until her hip knocked into his. Oops.
“This is purely for protection,” she lied, explaining the lack of space between them.
“That’s too bad,” Eli said, twisting to face her. “Because I was going to do this.”
He slid his fingers into her hair and urged her close enough to sweep his lips over hers. For the first time, Beth was grateful she couldn’t find a hair tie before heading to the barn. His touch sent tingles down her spine and butterflies dancing in her belly.
“Oh,” she whispered, definitely not feeling stood-up anymore.
“Oh,” Eli repeated, then kissed her again to the soundtrack of tiny chirps and cheeps.
Beth’s head swam with thoughts that had little to do with hopping on the back of a horse, until a loud squawk interrupted her fantasy.
“Ah!” she cried. Then she flinched and glanced over her shoulder to find a large white hen staring back at her from behind the chicken coop screen.
“Luuuucyy,” Eli warned, brows raised.
Beth’s heart hammered against her rib cage, but she wasn’t sure if it was a result of Eli’s kiss or another near-death experience with her poultry assailant.
“Maybe she is psychic,” Eli continued. “And she wants to warn you about taking a chance on Midnight.”
This was enough to bring Beth back to herself and her goal for the morning.
“And here I took you for a man of science.” Beth stared at him, unblinking.
He sighed. “It was worth a shot at trying one last time to dissuade you.” He picked up a fuzzy brown chick from his lap and held his cupped hands out to her.
Beth leaned back, holding her hands up as if to block him.
“You really want me to hold it? What if—”
Eli gently plopped the small creature into her lap, and the tiny chicken claws barely registered on her skin through her jeans.
She grinned, but her hands were still in the air.
“See?” Eli told her. “Not only are they harmless when they’re little babies like this, but they’re also pretty damned cute, aren’t they?”
The little fluff ball paced excitedly from one thigh to another. Beth was so caught up in watching it that she didn’t notice Eli’s hands on her wrists, lowering her arms. By the time she was holding the chick, it was too late to object.
“Oh my god! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! I’m holding it!” she exclaimed.
“You sure are,” Eli said.
“And it’s not poking my eyes out or eating my brain!” Beth added. She laughed as its downy soft feathers tickled her skin.
“Nope.” He nudged her knee with his own, careful not to jostle the rest of the chicks piled in his lap. “Maybe wild animal instinct is not to identify you as the enemy after all. If you don’t see yourself as the bad guy, chances are they won’t either.”
Beth lifted the small creature in front of her face so they were eye to eye.
“Tweet,” Beth spoke softly.
“Chirp,” the chick replied.
She gasped, a strange warmth pulsing through her. “Is this why you do what you do?” The question was for Eli, but her gaze stayed fixed on the chick. “Because of how good it feels when they actually like you?”
Eli chuckled, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught him lifting one of his chicks just like she had.
“I like ’em…the animals, I mean. And sure, I get attached to some…”
“Like Frederick?” she asked hesitantly.
“Like Frederick,” Eli admitted. “But it’s not about the affection,” he continued. “That’s just an added perk, I guess.”
She turned her gaze to him. “Perk to what?”
He kept his eyes trained on the chick. “To animals being easier to be around than people.”
Something in her heart tugged, or maybe the feeling was more of a reach.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Beth bumped her elbow against his.
“Have you seen me around town when you’re not at work?”
Her brows drew together. “Well…no, but I’ve heard you go to the tavern every now and then.” She squeezed her eyes shut, having inadvertently admitted she’d been asking around about him.
“Because everyone there lets me enjoy a pint in peace. My barstool is like sacred ground.”
“And you’re great with your patients and their owners. You have dinner parties with Delaney and Sam. And…and there’s Boone.”
He let out a soft laugh and finally turned to face her.
“You just listed people I either have to interact with because of work or because we’re related. Two friends I’ve known for a few years basically because I do pro bono work for Delaney’s shelter, my brother, plus my patients and their humans.” He leaned closer and whispered. “The animals aren’t big fans of being owned. Especially the cats.”
Beth snorted, then resisted the urge to cover her mouth so she didn’t accidentally eat a live chick. “You’re funny and charming and…”
And a little too easy on the eyes.
“And what?” he asked, one brow quirked.
“And…and there’s no way a species other than humans can appreciate what Dr. Eli Murphy, cowboy veterinarian extraordinaire, has to offer.” She deposited her chick back into her lap and crossed her arms. “You charmed me, okay? There. I said what I said, and I meant it.”
Okay, so he blew hot and cold and then hot again, but Eli Murphy was still undeniably attractive and charming. He couldn’t turn it off if he tried.
Shit. How much did she like this guy? How much more would she like him if they continued like this?
A muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I don’t know why it’s so easy with you for me to…”
Beth thought they were flirting, but the pained look in his eyes said otherwise.
“To what?” she asked.
“To be. With you it’s easy to just be.”
She cupped his face in her palms and answered her own question in her head.
How much did Beth like him? She was already in too deep to even think about walking away.
Shit.
“Then be,” she told him.
She kissed him, feeling the tension leave his body as she did.
“But when you’re done being,” she added, her lips parting into a smile against his, “let’s get the chicks back in the coop and get me on the damned horse already.”
She felt him smile too.
“Five more minutes,” he bargained.
“Nah,” Beth replied. “Let’s make it ten.”