Page 53 of Wish You Were Mine

I frowned, anxious to know what this was about. We’d left the situation a little up in the air the other night. I’d assured her that I would never suggest letting anything happen between us unless I was serious, but I knew she’d need more reassurance than just a few throwaway words, and honestly, so did I. If I couldn’t offer enough to make her happy, I’d rather know that now than be hurt later.

I changed into my street clothes and returned my work gear to my locker. I hesitated, glancing at Liam’s locker beside mine. Should I wait and tell him about the development between Summer and I before I went to meet her?

I dithered for a moment, torn between loyalty to my best friend, the knowledge there was every chance he’d remind me of all the ways I wasn’t what she needed in a man, and the desire to see Summer and make sure everything was okay as soon as possible.

In the end, I opted to leave. I’d have plenty of opportunities to talk to Liam later, when I was feeling strong enough to stomach the concerns he’d no doubt have about my suitability for his sister. Besides, the conversation Summer wanted to have might be relevant in terms of how much I decided to tell Liam.

I drove to the veterinary clinic. Only one car was left in the parking lot, but Summer wasn’t inside it, so I went to the front door, which slid open automatically.

“Summer?” I called.

“In here!”

I followed the voice through to an office behind reception. I’d never been in that room before, but it was clearly a space shared by several of the staff as there were three desks positioned against the walls, one of which had a desktop computer at either end.

Dozens of photos adorned the walls, many of animals, but I spotted a few of the Braddocks among them. Summer was working on a laptop at one of the desks. She glanced over her shoulder and gestured for me to join her.

“Pull a chair over,” she said. “There’s something I need to show you.”

So, this wasn’t about our relationship?

“What is it?” I asked, grabbing a wheeled chair and dragging it over beside her. I sat and studied her face. Strain lines bracketed her mouth, and her lower lip was red, as if she’d been biting it a lot. “Is everything okay?”

She caught her abused lower lip between her teeth. I wanted to smooth my thumb along it and soothe the soreness, but I didn’t dare when things between us were so precarious.

“I have Cookie’s blood test results,” she said, pointing at the document open on her laptop.

I scanned the screen, but it all looked like tables of gibberish and numbers to me. I understood some basic medical terms from working as a paramedic, but veterinary science was a whole other beast.

“And?” I asked, since she clearly had more to add.

Her face fell. “Cookie had elevated levels of a common household pesticide in her bloodstream.”

“Fuck.” I’d known something like that was a possibility, but I’d foolishly hoped she’d just eaten a neighbor’s chocolate bar. “Do I need to worry about any further damage to her system?”

She waved her fingers back and forth. “Difficult to say. It’s unlikely, since she seems to have recovered well. You haven’t noticed any unusual behavior, have you?”

“No. Except that she’s resting more than usual.”

She made a humming noise. “We’ll continue to monitor her, but I expect she’ll be fine. The pesticide is present, but not at an alarmingly high concentration. I think the treatment we put her through should be enough to have her out of danger.”

“Thank God.” But my mind was already firing through the connotations of this. “I double checked my garden shed before I took her home, and there’s no way she could have gotten into it. She must have been exposed to the pesticide somewhere else. I’ll have to talk to my neighbors.”

“Yes, do that,” she agreed, but looked like she wanted to add something else.

“What?” I asked. “Don’t hold back on me.”

She pulled a face. “I’m not, exactly. I’m just…” She tugged on the end of her ponytail, visibly agitated. “Do you remember how she was outside the morning after my birthday party?”

I nodded.

She pursed her lips. “I’m worried that this wasn’t an accident.”

My eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

“Is there any reason someone might have poisoned Cookie on purpose?”

“Are you serious?” The question came out before I could hold it back. Because of course she was serious. Summer wouldn’t joke about something like this. She took animals and their safety very seriously.

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