Page 44 of Slap Shot Daddies

I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and start the engine, feeling the rumble of the car vibrate through my bones. As I roll my shoulders and pull out of the lot, the sound of the tires crunching on gravel fills the air.

I like Kenzie. Really like her.

She's clever, that one, with a sharp wit that cuts through conversation like a hot knife through butter. She’s also tough, with a resilience that shines brightly, like a beacon in the night.

She's got that fire in her belly, a fierce determination that makes her the most intriguing person I've encountered in ages.

And if she thinks she can just vanish after a night like that?

Not a chance in hell.

The drive to Kenzie’s clinic is short, yet my mind races like a wild horse the entire way.

How should I approach this? Should I exude a casual air, or perhaps charm her with a bit of charisma? Maybe bringing flowers would have been a good idea after all.

As I pull up to the small clinic, I take in its quaint appearance. It has a certain charm, but it’s clear that keeping it afloat is no easy task.

The sign above the entrance leans slightly to one side, the paint on the trim is peeling away like sunburned skin, and there’s a hairline crack spidering across the waiting room window, hinting at the wear and tear of time and tight budgets.

Kenzie has so much to manage, and I’m determined to help ease her burden. Just as I step inside, the air is pierced by a sharp voice that slices through the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

“I told you already, we’re short-staffed today! I am doing my best, ma’am!” It’s Kenzie, her voice edged with the strain of too many demands and not enough hands.

My gut clenches as I make my way toward the front desk. The moment I lay eyes on her, I can tell she’s teetering on the brink of losing her composure.

A middle-aged woman, bundled in a puffy winter coat, waves her arms animatedly, gripping the leash of a massive golden retriever that tugs impatiently at her side.

“I pay good money for your services,” the woman snaps, her voice as biting as the winter wind. “I expect my dog to be seen immediately.”

Kenzie’s jaw sets in a tight line, her frustration palpable, radiating from her like heat from a furnace. Her injured hand is clenched into a fist at her side, a testament to her pent-up irritation.

Letting out a sigh, I crack my knuckles and step forward, ready to intervene and diffuse the tension.

I step up beside Kenzie, crossing my arms and flashing my most relaxed yet don't-mess-with-me smile. The kind that speaks volumes without saying a word.

"Problem here, love?" I inquire, keeping my tone as light as a gentle breeze.

Kenzie jumps slightly at my sudden presence, but her gaze stays locked on the woman in front of us.

The woman's eyes flick to me, her brows knitting together in a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "Who are you?" she demands, her voice sharp like a freshly honed blade.

"Just a friend," I reply with an easygoing charm, then let my eyes drift down to the dog.

The furry creature is wagging his tail with such enthusiasm that his entire body wiggles like a living slinky. "Aye, there’s a good lad," I add with a chuckle.

The big fluffball immediately flops onto his back, exposing his belly and stretching his paws skyward, clearly seeking some well-deserved belly rubs.

Kenzie blinks, her frustration melting away for a brief moment, amusement softening her tense features.

I crouch down and scratch behind the pup's belly, feeling the softness of his fur beneath my fingers.

"Why don’t we take him back and have a look, hmm?" I suggest, keeping my voice soothing and calm. "Make sure he’s really in need of immediate care."

The woman huffs, annoyance etched into her features, but seeing her dog surrender so willingly, she lets out a sharp sigh, her shoulders dropping in resignation.

"Fine," she grumbles, the word dripping with anger.

Kenzie exhales, relief washing over her like a wave, her tension visibly dissipating. I rise smoothly, taking the leash from the woman's hand with a gentle but firm grasp.

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