Page 11 of Peacocks

No human could be this sweet. Not without a reason. Not without a… a motive.

But my brain immediately called up a million examples of how he could be—how hewas—and played them for me like one of those cheesy but adorable movie montages.

Last summer, when I’d planned to spend a whole afternoon relaxing in the backyard, I’d gotten derailed by some pictures on Chad’s Instagram and had instead spent hours hate-scrolling his honeymoon pictures, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I hadn’t realized I’d said the words out loud until suddenly, Jay was beside me with a giant pair of clippers, asking for my help while he trimmed back the sickly crepe myrtle behind the garage.

“This little tree’s a tricky one,” he’d said as he’d worked. “If left to its own devices, it’ll tangle itself up until it blocks out its own sunlight.” He’d shot me a sideways glance. “But there’s nothing wrong with it that a little pruning won’t fix.”

By the time we’d finished gardening—which had taken a lot longer than necessary since Jay had “accidentally” squirted me with the hose during cleanup—I’d forgotten all about Chad.

Another time last fall, after I’d spent a full day and night at the clinic trying to save the life of Maisy Topher’s seventeen-year-old German shepherd, Claude—“He’s my best friend, Doc Lane. Please.”—I’d arrived home shortly after sunrise to find Jay sitting on my steps holding a takeout container of triple chocolate cake from Annie’s Bakery.

He’d chattered at me for a while—some story about them giving away the cake on a two-for-one special, so it would have been wrong not to take both pieces but also wrong toeatboth pieces, and would I mind solving this ethical dilemma for him?—while I’d sat silently beside him on the steps, shoving cake into my mouth and feeling a little less bone-weary.

Then, a month or so ago, Jay had stopped by the clinic to warn me there was a snowstorm coming and not to work too late. I remembered he’d been dressed up—black slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt, topped with a brown dress coat instead of his usual blue parka.

“Why you so fancy today, Jaybird?” Alva had asked.

He’d frowned. “Mrs. Herring needed a ride to the funeral home. I didn’t expect they’d appreciate my showing up in blue jeans.”

“I’m sorry,” I’d murmured, not knowing who Mrs. Herring was or who she’d lost.

He’d snorted lightly. “Don’t be. Mr. Herring was awful. She’s better off without him, to be honest. We all are.”

Alva had nodded firmly but silently, making the entire situation extremely awkward.

“Well, uh… thanks for the warning about the snow. I do have a couple of late appointments, but I’ll be careful.”

Jay’s lips had turned down in a scowl. “Surely you can cancel them. Your vehicle doesn’t have winter tires.”

In the end, I’d somehow been left with Jay’s four-wheel-drive truck, his dress coat, and a dozen hot chicken tenders in a brown paper bag. I remembered staring at the door for a full minute after the coatless man had absconded with my vehicle and left me with a warm meal.

Alva had let out a breath before heading back to the lab. “You’ve been Jaybirded, yes you have.”

Despite all the experience I’d had with the man up to that point, I still hadn’t understood what she’d meant. I’d expected Jay to be put out or annoyed. At the very least, for him to act like I’d owed him a favor.

He hadn’t.

He’d greeted me with a relieved “Howdy, neighbor” when I’d returned home that day, exchanged keys with no fuss, and ushered me up the freshly swept steps to my apartment with a friendly “Keep warm!” He’d never referred to the incident again.

I looked at Jay now, red-lipped and handsome as always. Only this time, he was red-lipped from kissing me, and his handsome was exponentially more compelling since I’d tasted the man’s mouth.

What was I supposed to be doing?

Oh, right. Kissing him for each of his evil, evil deeds.

Except now,finally, I was starting to think I understood him.

“You’re obsessed with looking out for people,” I murmured before leaning in to give him the kiss I’d promised.

“I guess, a little.” His arms came around me again, and the feel of his big, strong hands firm against my back made me groan. “One person in particular, though…”

My heart pounded. “Why me?” I whispered.

Jay’s face was serious. “You’re in high need, Dr. Lane. I’ve never met a man who needed taking care of the way you do.”

The laugh spilled out of me. “I do not. I’ll have you know I managed to survive many, many years without the help of Jaybird Proud.”

“Survived,” he repeated like he was considering the word. “I guess so.” Jay’s hand came up to stroke my jaw with his thumb. The expression on his face could only be described asfond… and I was pretty sure I was looking at him the same way.

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