Chapter 5

Beth could see the clinic from the front door of the guesthouse, so she waited a full twenty minutes and then some before heading over. She didn’t want to seem eager by showing up early. This visit was simply a means to an end, a way to appease her sister and—fine—not stay holed up in a tiny apartment wallowing. She was talented enough in the art that she could wallow anywhere.

She found the entry door ajar, but the lights to the reception area were off as she stepped inside.

“Hello?” Beth called warily. In horror movies, this was the part where she got impaled by a pitchfork or some other farming tool. Or maybe because she was in a veterinary clinic, it would be something more like a scalpel. And the audience would of course roll their eyes because who would be clueless enough to enter a building that had its door ajar and no lights on in a place she’d never been, looking for a man she barely knew?

Apparently, Beth Spence was clueless enough, because instead of running back the way she came—or in her case limping—she continued exploring.

“Eli? Delaney told me twenty minutes. I waited twenty-five.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Performers like to make an entrance, right?” She ran her hand along the high wooden counter, behind which someone would sit to greet clients and their furry friends.

Oh god. Barring any unfortunate scalpel-related incidents resulting in her even more unfortunate murder, Beth would be the person behind that counter. Ugh. She wouldn’t have to hold any of those furry friends, right?

She continued with her hesitant exploration.

“If you’re, like, into pranks and stuff like that…” she called into what felt like an abyss, “I should warn you that I do not react kindly to surprises. See, my sister and I have this thing where we don’t wish each other happy birthday until it’s the actual time of our birth. I was born at 11:58 p.m., and there was this one night that I had a performance, and Delaney wanted to be the first to wish me happy birthday after the show and thought spraying me with confetti the second I walked into an elevator would be a good idea. My first reaction was to spray her right back. With pepper spray. Spoiler alert… It didn’t end well for either of us.”

Beth’s eyes, nose, and throat burned every time she thought of the incident. Even now, she had to fight the urge to cough.

She crept farther into the space, grateful for the natural light pouring in through the windows, especially since there wasn’t a light switch to be found. But as she neared the short hallway of exam rooms, the windows disappeared, as did most of the light.

“You know what? On the off chance that you are going to impale me with a pitchfork or a scalpel, I think I’ll head back to the guesthouse.” She put her weight on her right heel, ready to pivot and move as quickly as possible back the way she came, when she finally received a response.

“In here.” Eli’s voice sounded from a few feet deeper down the hall, hoarse and weary.

Oh no. Maybe she was the hero of the horror film rather than the victim?

“Eli, are you impaled by a pitchfork?” she called as she followed the sound and hoped the odds of this scenario not playing out like a slasher film were in her favor.

This earned her a laugh, though a bitter one if she was accurately reading his tone.

“No pitchfork. Promise. I just…needed a few minutes to myself.”

Sunlight shone through the crack in what she thought would be his office door, but when Beth pushed it open, she found Eli sprawled on his back on an exam table definitely meant for a creature slightly smaller than a human, one knee raised and his arm bent beneath his head.

“Oh my god! Are you hurt?” she asked, her hand finally finding a light switch on the wall.

“Please don’t.” He waved her off with his free hand. “My head is pounding. The light will only make it worse. I just need a few more minutes of dark and quiet and…and then I can show you around.”

Okay, what happened to the extremely capable and upright pancake-chef-slash-wound-tender who left the guesthouse barely thirty minutes before? The man was not going to be up for an office tour after only a few more minutes of dark and quiet.

“Were you, like, partying hard for the last twenty minutes and you forgot to invite me?”

This earned her another laugh. “Not even close,” he told her.

“But…” she continued, “I might be going out on a limb here. Were you sick? You know, the kind of sick where you—”

“Yes,” he interrupted through gritted teeth. “I just upchucked on the floor of the barn. Is that what you want to hear?” He groaned. “I’m sorry. This is not exactly my finest moment.”

Beth sighed. “Okaaay… Well, did something happen to bring the headache on?” Because he was fine less than a half hour ago.

She moved to a sink where she found a paper towel dispenser mounted to the wall and an opened tube of toothpaste next to a visibly wet toothbrush on the counter.

“No,” he replied coolly.

You lie, Dr. Murphy.

Something made him toss his cookies, and whatever that something was, he wasn’t about to share it with her.

“You need water,” Beth told him, wetting paper towels under the faucet.

“How do you know that?” he challenged.

She sighed, her back still toward him. “You’re a doctor, Eli.” She turned off the faucet. A beat of silence filled the room.

“Right,” he finally said. “Dehydration.”

Well, he was far from an oversharer, but at least he confirmed she was on the right track as far as helping him get back on his feet.

“Do you have a cup or something in here?”

She spun to face him.

He hadn’t moved, and his eyes were closed, so she laid one of the two damp towels over his eyelids and the bridge of his nose.

He flinched slightly, but then his whole body relaxed, and he let out a long breath.

She slid her hand beneath his head. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp with sweat. “And another one right here…” She tilted his head forward and then slid the second towel across his neck, patting it in place so that it stuck to his skin.

His breaths evened out, and the muscles in his face softened.

“How’d you know to do that?” he asked, his voice less strained.

Beth smiled to herself, satisfied with her handiwork. “I’m a Vegas showgirl, Dr. Murphy. Sometimes a girl likes to let off a little steam after work.” She laughed softly at her own lie. “And sometimes she lets off a little too much steam.” Beth glanced back at the sink to see if she missed a glass next to the toothbrush and toothpaste, but the counter was otherwise bare. “Now about that drinkware so I can properly tend to my patient?”

Eli huffed out a laugh. “You might find a stainless-steel pet bowl in the cabinet. Many of my canine patients’ veterinary anxieties are soothed with a fresh bowl of water.”

“And these bowls are clean?” she asked.

The water was already running again when she heard him shift on the table.

“I am not drinking out of a—”

She shut the faucet and spun to face him, bowl in hand and what she hoped was a don’t eff with me look in her eye. It must have worked, because he stopped short of finishing his protest.

“It’s a clean bowl. You need water. I have water right here. You’ve already lost your argument, haven’t you?”

He opened his mouth, then let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

Beth’s throat went dry, and she had the sudden urge to drain the bowl of water herself.

Eli Murphy was handsome. Some might even say hot. But ever since she stepped—or nearly fell—out of his truck, she’d forced her initial reaction to him into a nice little inaccessible corner of her mind. Why?

Because you were too busy hating being here and somehow blaming him for it.

She growled at the voice in her head.

“What was that?” Eli asked.

Beth cleared her throat. “Nothing. Just… Bottoms up, Doc!” She offered him the bowl, both hands extended.

“Are you always this bossy with your employers?” Eli asked with a lopsided grin.

Okay, now Beth was feeling her own version of hot. Like, the kind of hot that also came with bothered.

Cool off. Cool off. Cool off, stupid neglected libido. The man was in crisis, and all she could think was how good he looked—well—crisis-ing.

Eli reached for the bowl, and his fingertips overlapped with hers as they made the exchange. They stayed that way—the bowl in both of their palms—for several seconds longer than necessary.

His eyes locked on hers, and he held her there, staring, waiting.

One second was all it took for this sort of handoff. Maybe less. But this moment felt like it didn’t want to end. Right. The moment didn’t want to end. Because if Beth was the one extending this…this…fingers-touching-fingers thing…

“Um…” Eli said. “Are you gonna let me have it?”

Beth yanked her hands away, then watched in what felt like slow motion as water sloshed over the lip of the bowl and onto Eli’s jeans. Yep. She let him have it all right.

“Oh my god!” she cried. “I’m so sorry!”

Eli glanced down at the wet spot blooming on his thigh, and on instinct, Beth began patting and rubbing the area with her bare palm.

“It’s not that bad,” she continued. “I mean, it wasn’t the whole bowl, right?” She continued to pat and rub, pat and rub, as the dark area of denim spread farther and her palm crept up his thigh.

Oh. My. God.

Her hand stilled, and with her heart and dignity in her throat, she tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his.

Bright blue irises darkened to something unreadable.

Anger?

Confusion?

Desire?

No. That third one was all Beth, and she had zero right to desire her new boss, let alone rub her palm up his freaking thigh!

Eli held the bowl high above both of their heads. He lowered it slowly, bringing it to his lips and downing what was left in one messy gulp.

“You should go,” he said, his voice strained again. Water trickled from the corner of his mouth. He glanced down to where her hand still rested on his inner thigh.

Oh. My. God. Again!

She snatched her hand back. Heat pulsed through her palm, and she pressed it to her chest, willing this strange feeling away.

“Eli,” she began, but she didn’t recognize her own voice, breathless and full of something.

Ugh. What is wrong with me?

“We’ll do the tour tomorrow,” Eli continued when she couldn’t think of what to say next. “The clinic opens at 9:00. Be here at 7:00. I’ll show you the reservation system on the computer, and we’ll take it from there.”

They weren’t touching anymore, but barely any space was between them. Still, without really knowing this man at all, Beth was certain he’d somehow drifted a million miles away.

“Eli,” she uttered again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

He dropped the bowl beside him and pressed his hands to her shoulders, gently moving her out of the way. Then he slid off the exam table that was way too small for his tall, lean, muscled frame and stood. He met her gaze but also seemed to look past her. Through her.

“It’s fine,” he told her absently.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” Beth forced a laugh. “I still have the job?” Though why she cared, when a couple of hours ago she was ready to head right back to Vegas, she wasn’t exactly sure.

Eli nodded. “Yeah. Of course. I…uh…I just need to go see a man about a horse.”

Beth snort-laughed, but Eli didn’t even blink. “Oh. You’re serious,” she added.

Another nod. And then he strode out of the room and into the dark hallway.

She waited a few minutes until she was sure he had left the building.

“Good talk!” Beth called to the empty clinic. Well, it wasn’t a horror flick massacre, yet Beth still somehow felt like she’d been gutted. Also, since she’d effectively been blown off, what was she supposed to do now?

She shrugged, then grabbed the stainless steel bowl from the exam table, washed it, and set it back in the cabinet.

“Gonna see a man about a horse, huh?” she mumbled to herself. Well, if she was going to work in a place full of animals, maybe it was time to get to know one or two of them.

Beth made her way back out of the clinic and was accosted by a chorus of squawking. Violent chickens would not be her starting point, so she made a beeline for the only other place she was sure to find an animal when the clinic was closed.

The barn.

“Are you shittin’ me?” Eli asked, incredulous.

Boone cupped his hands over the ears of the smiling baby girl he wore strapped to his chest facing her potty-mouthed uncle.

“Language, Eli,” the younger Murphy brother responded with a wry grin. “My daughter’s first word is going to be Daddy, not shittin’ me!” He whispered the last two words. “Isn’t that right, my little Kare Bear? Daddy. Dad-dy.”

The tiny blond beauty cooed at her father’s voice and bounced up and down in her little carrier.

Eli couldn’t hold back his grin as he held out his index finger for his niece to grab. She giggled and bounced even more when he tickled her chubby bare foot.

“I thought her name was Kah-ra. Like a short ‘ah’ sound,” Eli challenged. “And she looks nothing like you, you know.”

Shit. Eli was being an asshole, and he knew it. But he needed somewhere to direct this energy. He needed someone who could take it without batting an eye. And that someone was Boone.

His brother shrugged. “She can still be my Kare Bear if I want her to.” He opened the apartment door wide and silently welcomed his brother inside. “And thank god she got all her looks from her mama. Means I’m living with the two most beautiful girls in the world.”

Eli wanted to be happy for his brother, and in theory, he was. But right now he couldn’t get past the horse, the water, and the feeling of Beth’s hand on his goddamn thigh.

He combed a hand through his hair as he strode inside and began pacing as best he could amid the baby toys littering the floor.

“I still don’t get why you and Casey wouldn’t take the guesthouse.”

Boone closed the door and then half walked, half bounced his way into the main living space.

“You built that place,” Boone reminded him. “There’s room on the property for Casey and me to design our own home when we’re ready. But right now, with Casey’s salon downstairs and me taking some time off to do this…”

Boone held out both of his index fingers in his daughter’s line of sight, and she grabbed each in time for her daddy to dance them around the blue-and-white-checked area rug that lay between the couch and the oversize chair.

Eli crossed his arms. “Time off from fixing cars, sure, but not from the Fury doppelgänger you dropped in my barn.” It wasn’t a question.

Boone and Kara’s dancing stopped, but Eli’s brother continued to absently sway side to side as he spoke.

“Come on, Eli. Black horses are a dime a dozen.”

Eli shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not Friesians with a white star between their eyes. You could have said something.”

Boone sighed and finally stopped swaying. “You didn’t want to meet her when I was there. Figured when you were ready, I’d tell you more about her. Thought you’d be busy enough with your guest today that it could wait till morning. Sorry if seeing her was harder than I anticipated. That’s on me.”

It sure as hell was on him. Except maybe his brother had things on his mind other than when would be the best time to tell Eli that the new horse they were rehabbing looked exactly like the horse he couldn’t save three years ago.

Kara fussed, and Boone began swaying again. The fussing stopped.

“Shit, you’re good at this, aren’t you?” Eli gave his brother a single nod of approval.

“I know, right?” Boone responded, smiling proudly.

Eli collapsed onto the large overstuffed chair, then flinched as he raised his ass and pulled a pair of knitting needles connected by a few short rows of yarn from beneath him.

“I thought you babyproofed the place,” Eli grumbled, holding the death traps out for his brother.

Boone laughed. “Babyproofed, sure. Guess I forgot to brother proof, though. You want to give it a try? It’s pretty goddamn soothing, and you look like you need to be soothed.”

Eli opened his mouth to respond, but his phone chirped in his pocket with a sound he didn’t recognize.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, pulling the phone out and furrowing his brow at the notification on the screen.

Boone and Kara sidled up next to him, and his brother glanced at the screen over his shoulder.

“Shit,” Boone whispered, then covered Kara’s ears. “That’s the stall alarm we hooked up when we refinished the barn. Someone opened Midnight’s door.”