Page 25 of Finding Gideon
“Let’s have a look,” Malcolm said, motioning down the hall to the exam table. “Gideon, give me a hand?”
I stepped in beside him, and together we settled Pip on the table. She gave a small whine, and I reached to steady her front half while Malcolm adjusted her paw. Our hands brushed—just a flicker of contact. It shot straight up my arm, lodging somewhere under my ribs.
I should move my hand. Say something. Laugh it off. But I didn’t.
And neither did he.
Our eyes caught for the briefest second. For a heartbeat, it felt like the room narrowed to that single point of contact.
Then we pulled away. Quietly. Like it hadn’t happened.
Malcolm cleared his throat and focused on the paw. "Ah, here we go. Tiny splinter. Almost missed it."
He worked with quiet precision, his touch gentle but certain. Pip whimpered once but didn’t pull away.
Theo exhaled in relief. “She trusts you more than she trusts us.”
“Just practice,” Malcolm said, handing Pip back.
Ronan clipped the leash back on Pip. “You two should come out tonight. We’re heading to Pints ‘n Pool. Shouldn’t be too crowded.”
“Tonight?” Malcolm asked, his tone somewhere between wary and curious.
Theo grinned. “Yeah. It’s time you met more of the town. You’ve been here a year and still barely know anyone.”
Malcolm gave a quiet chuckle. “I’ve been… adjusting. Busy.”
Ronan nodded. “We get it. We were new once, too. Five years back. You reach a point where you either dive in or stay a stranger.”
Malcolm glanced at Pip, then at both of them, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Guess I’m running out of excuses, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Theo said.
“All right,” Malcolm said, his voice settling into a decision. Then he looked over at me. “You should come too. It’s a good way to meet some folks.”
I gave a noncommittal shrug. “We’ll see.”
“Bring him, Mal,” Theo said with a grin as they headed for the glass door. “You need a wingman.”
Malcolm let out an amused huff, shaking his head as Theo pushed the door open. It eased shut behind them with a soft clink, leaving the clinic quieter than it had been all morning.
Malcolm veered off toward his office, the muted creak of the chair and the faint rustle of paperwork carrying down the hall. I drifted in the opposite direction, into the supply alcove, counting syringe packs I’d already counted twice. The stillness pressed against my back until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
My feet moved before I had a plan.
At his doorway, I knocked once—light, almost hesitant.
He didn’t turn. “Yeah?”
“You, uh… got a sec?”
He didn’t look up right away. “Yeah.”
I stepped in. He was leaned back slightly in his chair, turning a pen between his fingers, the light from the window catching on the slope of his shoulder. Something about the stillness of him made my chest tighten—unexpected, like tripping over a step you didn’t see.
“I didn’t mean to unload on you earlier,” I said finally, my voice lower than it should have been. “With the stuff about Garrett.”
His hand stilled, though he didn’t turn right away. “You didn’t unload. You remembered someone you love. That’s not a burden.”
