Page 8 of Once Upon a Boyband
“I won’t stay in the parking lot. I was just on my way back inside.”
She frowns. “Do you have a spare key somewhere?”
I nod. “Back at the rescue.”
“Then let me drive you there. We can drop off the puppies, then I’ll bring you back to pick up your car.”
My mouth goes dry at the thought of spending time alone with Elena Lawson. Especially after the way we connected today. Eight months ago, the first time she walked into the exam room instead of her father, I was immediately struck by how beautiful she was. I was a little distracted because a dog had just thrown up on the lower half of my left pant leg, but I noticed her.Reallynoticed her. And wondered if she might, at some point, be someone I could get to know.
But then she had this very professional vibe about her, like she wanted to keep things strictly business, so I just assumed she was either one, not interested—I did reek of dog barf, after all—or two, already seeing someone else.
Until earlier today, when I overheard her and Percy talking right before they came into the exam room. He was teasing her—teasing her aboutme.
So I pushed a little. Asked her questions about something other than the dogs. She surprised me with how quickly she responded and with how much she knows about music.
I’m still not sure she’s interested.
Percy could have been totally off-base, and I’m not particularly good at reading a woman’s more nuanced signals.
But I am sure thatI’minterested.
Dr. Lawson is beautiful in this easy, understated way thatI really appreciate. Minimal makeup—at least not that I can see—and her hair is usually pulled back in a practical ponytail, which makes sense considering what she does for a living. But her eyes are bright, and her smile is wide and friendly, and she has a dusting of freckles across her cheekbones that I notice every time I see her.
Taking up her entire afternoon because I was an idiot and locked my keys inside my car isn’t exactly first-date material, but I’m not about to turn down the chance to spend more time with her.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” I say. “We could easily hang out in the lobby until the locksmith gets here. Or my sister, Sarah, who works with me at the rescue and will probably get my seventy-two texts any minute.”
She laughs as she steps forward, scooping Ringo into her arms. “Youcoulddo either of those things, but I’m sure the puppies would appreciate some time with their mama after getting their vaccines. And the sooner the better. Just let me help. I promise I don’t have anything else to do with my afternoon.” She smiles at the puppy, cuddling him close, and a bolt of awareness flushes through my body.
“Okay. If you’re sure. I really appreciate it.”
She meets my eye. “Yay. More puppy time for me.”
We make quick work of wheeling the wagon around the corner of the building to what I assume must be the employee parking lot. We stop beside a black sedan, and I quickly realize the challenge this is going to be. If I could get into my SUV, I would transfer the puppies from the wagon into a smaller travel crate lined with beach towels in the back to keep them safe and mostly immobile for the drive home. I can’t just leave them in the wagon because I’ll need to break it down for it to fit in Dr. Lawson’s trunk, and there’sno way I can hold eight squirmy puppies in my lap for the twenty minutes it will take to drive out to the rescue.
Dr. Lawson looks from me to the puppies, then back to me again. “We have a problem, don’t we?”
“Looks like it,” I say.
She purses her lips to the side, and I’m momentarily distracted by their deep pink color, by the fullness of her bottom lip as she grasps it between her teeth. “Okay, give me a sec. I think we’ve got some travel crates inside.” She hands Ringo over to me, who she’s been holding this whole time, and moves toward a side door that I’m guessing is the regular employee entrance.
It’s not lost on me that when Dr. Lawson came outside to leave, she came through the front door, and I feel an irrational pulse of joy at the possibility of her having done it on purpose.
Though that could have everything to do with her concern for the puppies and nothing to do withme.
While she’s gone, I cancel my request for a locksmith, then crouch down to check on my reflection in the side mirror on Dr. Lawson’s car. Nose, teeth, everything looks good, so I stand back up and adjust my hat, forcing myself to relax. This is fine.Easy.I’ve got this.
She’s back less than a minute later holding two cardboard carriers, one in each hand. “What do you think?” she says, holding them up. “Think we could fit four puppies in each one?”
“Definitely,” I say. “Thanks again, Dr. Lawson. This is definitely going above and beyond.”
“Call me Laney,” she says. “That’s what everyone calls me. And I promise, I’m so happy to help.”
Five minutes later, the puppies are secure in the backseat, I’m settled into the passenger seat, and Dr. Lawson—Laney—is buckling her seatbelt beside me.
The nickname suits her. Also, her car smells amazing, like citrus and cinnamon and something else I can’t quite name. I almost ask her how she manages it. She works with animals as much as I do, and I’m constantly battling the smell of musty wet dog that seems to permeate every corner of my SUV. Though, she doesn’t take work home with her like I do, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.
As soon as Laney’s phone connects to the car, music blasts through the speakers at high volume, the familiar lyrics of Midnight Rush’s first number-one hit filling the space between us.
