Page 329 of Small Town Firsts
And I needed to put that thought in a box, thank you very much.
Before I could articulate a response, Elle Woods rang her little bell for us to move to the next station. “Happy hunting.”
He stepped into the pen I’d just been visiting. “Let’s see if this little devil likes me or not.”
“Good luck.” I took a page from the kitten’s playbook and flounced.
The next few rounds included perfectly sweet cats, but none of them seemed to be especially ‘mine’.
Finally, most of the cats had been homed, and another flag was stuck beside mine for the bonded pair. Elle—aka Beverly—clapped again to get our attention.
“Thank you so much for making this such a success. Most of our lovely cats and kittens have been requested, and now we’ll just make sure everyone is a perfect fit. We have a bonus round of our more special needs cats if you’d like to stick around for that. But first, we’ll have our amazing volunteer vet come out and talk to us about what it means to be a special needs cat owner. Dr. Thorn?”
“Thanks, Beverly.”
My heart gave a little kick when I recognized my hot dad from the park. His flyaway hair was in a little more semblance of order, but those sharp cheekbones and that lilting accent were definitely the same.
Preston came up beside me while the vet discussed the things to be aware of when choosing a special needs cat. After a moment, PMS laid a proprietary hand on my lower back.
My skin did not sizzle. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed.
“I’m not here to dissuade you from taking on a geriatric cat who needs a little more medication, or one of our more serious cases. I’m just here to answer any questions if you are of a mind to take on an animal who may need just a bit more love. We appreciate all of you for coming today. I’ll be walking around while you’re on your dates.” Dr. Thorn gave us a wide, dimpled smile and handed the mic back to Beverly.
This round of the speed dating would be slower in deference to the animals who required a little more care.
The vet caught sight of me and crossed the room. “Ryan, it’s lovely to see you again.”
“You know him?” Preston blurted.
I ignored him. “Hi, Grant. And look at you, this time you’re not even sweaty.”
“Excuse me?”
I swallowed the smile, but I was still annoyed at the hand-on-my-back thing. Hot then cold, in my business then pushing me away—PMS needed to figure out that I wasn’t his plaything. “I ran into Grant in the park today. He was chasing his dog that got loose.”
“And the fair Ryan was sweet enough to watch my daughter while Bosco sent me on a merry chase.”
“Daughter…oh, so you’re married?” Preston sounded positively giddy. For him anyway.
Grant slid his gaze to Preston. “‘Fraid not, mate. Just a dad.”
“Oh.”
“Are you interested in one of our special cases? I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” Grant held out his hand.
“Preston Shaw.”
Their shake was firm and possibly a little overdone. I rolled my eyes and hip-checked PMS. “He hasn’t found his perfect cat yet. But he’s definitely interested. Especially if one would be good for an office space as well as a home.”
PMS gaped at me. “The animal doesn’t need to come to work with me.”
“But it would be a plus. Especially if they’re good with people.”
Grant looked from me to PMS and back. “Well, we do have a three-year-old cat who may just fit that bill.” He nodded to a gray cat who had just been released from a carrier. “We just transferred the cat from a kill shelter in Chicago so he’s had a bit of a rough start. But he’s healthy and good-natured.”
We followed the veterinarian to the pen.
A small face popped out of the carrier with a red collar and a shiny silver bell.
