Page 3 of Jack Raider

Jack

Damn it.

I’d stayed away from Nate’s sister foryears—all because my body had the audacity to misbehave whenever she was around. Now, here she was, sitting in my truck in the middle of the night, a stray dog between us, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scold her or kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.

I glanced over, trying to get a grip on my wild thoughts of her and those tight leggings. She was already distracted, focusing on the scruffy mutt nestled in her lap like a prince on a throne.

“What kind of dog is that?” I asked because,for the love of God, I needed to think aboutsomething elsebesides how much I wanted to reach over and touch her.

She tilted her head, studying the furball. “I think he’s a mix of a few breeds, but it’s hard to tell under all this matted fur. I’ll take him to work tomorrow and check him out.”

I frowned. “Where do you work? Do you live in town?”

“I’m a veterinarian. I own a pet hospital on the edge of town.”

I blinked. “You’re a veterinarian?”

She arched a brow. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, I just… I didn’t know that.” I shook my head, feeling like an idiot. “That’s amazing, Eloise. I bet your family’s proud of you.Hell, I’m proud of you.”

Her lips curled into a smile, andholy hell, Ifeltit like a punch straight to my gut.

“You are?” she asked, eyes twinkling. “Proud enough to help me bathe Rover?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Nice try. I’m not waking your parents up in the middle of the night just so you can soak me in dog water.”

She snorted. “Jack, I haven’t lived at home sincecollege.My parents still have the same house they have always lived in.” She pointed ahead. “Go that way, I’ll tell you where to turn.”

My brain screamed toput her out of the truck and drive away now.

You don’t want to go home with her.

Except… I did.

She pointed to a street up ahead, on the outskirts of town. “That’s my house, and next to it is my pet hospital.”

I glanced between the two buildings, I could see a small barn in the back, with a pasture.. “That’s convenient.”

“Too convenient,” she muttered. “Honestly, I wish I’d never bought the house next door. It feels like I’malwaysat work. And since the neighbors know where I live, they knock on my doorat all hoursif something’s wrong with their pet. Some even ask me to watch their animals when they go on vacation. Apparently, I run aboarding servicenow.”

I smirked. “You should start charging them.”

“Idocharge them,” she grumbled. “They pay me in baked goods.”

“Sounds like a solid deal to me.”

She sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. She lookedtired, and instead of thinking about how good she looked—messy ponytail,oversized hoodie, leggings hugging her legs just right—I felt something else. Something dangerously close to concern.

“Ellie,” I said, lifting the dog out of the truck, “I can’t stay and help with the bath. I’ve got a Zoom meeting at six.”

“Chicken,” she teased.

“What?”

“You’re afraid you’ll get soaked and show up smelling like a wet dog for your meeting.”

I smirked. “No, I just need to get back to the hotel and shower. It’s aZoomcall, Ellie.”

---