Page 52 of Love Out Loud

Yeah, he was successful and had helped a lot of people, but he’d also probably done a disservice to some of them by only giving them temporary fixes, much like he’d done to himself. Denial, masking, and bluffing were great for a short-term goal like an isolated speech, but it did nothing to combat a long-term fear like many of his clients had of public speaking or he had of dogs. Going forward, he should encourage them to seek counseling to address the root of the problem, not just encourage them to cope by covering it up.

“I’m good,” he managed to say. “I’m…” He looked up to find her deep brown eyes focused on his face. “I was surprised and scared,” he said. He’d never outright admitted that before. Something about it was liberating.

“You were shaking your hands,” she said. “I thought you were having a seizure or something.”

He imagined how silly he must have looked, flapping his hands wildly in the middle of the barnyard, and shook his head. “It was a visualization exercise that I now know doesn’t work for me.” In the future, he needed to talk to clients after he suggested this technique, to see if it worked for them. He hadn’t really cared because he hadn’t understood where they were coming from. Between the trip to the AKC Meet the Breeds and this experience, he totally got it now.

“You up for this?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and stared at the dogs who were sniffing around right inside the wide barn opening. Little flecks of dust flitted around them in the shaft of sunlight slanting across the floor just inside the building. He focused on that rather than the dogs. “I’m good.”

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before lacing her fingers through his. Side by side, they entered the barn, and the dogs milling about didn’t alarm him as much.

Both sides of the barn were lined with pens containing dogs. Some of them housed multiple dogs, some singles, and it seemed to Jake that all of them were barking at once. It didn’t cause him the stress he’d expected, though. Maybe because Fiona was still holding his hand.

Addison stopped next to a plastic folding table in front of a pen housing a big gold dog surrounded by multicolored puppies whose feet looked way too big for their bodies as they toddled around their mom. “Four weeks, we think,” Addison said.

“Daddy must’ve been huge. Look at those legs.” Fiona dropped Jake’s hand, set her bag on the table, and pulled some supplies out.

“Figure there’s something like Great Dane in there,” Addison said. “She was found at a landfill with the pups hidden behind an old crate, so no telling. She’s a good mama and has a sweet temperament. We should be able to home these babies easily. Big dogs are popular here with all the horse farms around.”

Jake marveled at Fiona’s efficiency as she made quick work of checking and immunizing the six wiggly puppies and examining their mom. Next came kittens so small they wouldn’t even rank big enough to qualify as city rats, followed by a really pissed-off chicken who was placed in a plastic tub with a few inches of Epsom salts dissolved in warm water. The lid had a four-inch hole in it, and the bird’s head was poking out like a submarine periscope, delivering a death stare to anyone brave enough to glance over.

“It’s a pretty small abscess,” Fiona said. “It should be easy to remove after a good soaking.” As if the chicken knew they were talking about it, it made a weird noise like a creaky door hinge and shook its head, making the red things on its head and under its chin wiggle.

“You said there were three pups for an eight-week check? I only recorded two.”

Addison strode to the last pen on the right. “Saved the best for last.” She returned to the makeshift exam table holding a familiar face.

“Brutus!” Fiona cried, taking the puppy in her arms and pulling it to her chest. After a thorough hug, she held the wiggly puppy at arm’s length. “You look great.”

Jake studied Fiona as she examined Brutus and found himself mesmerized. She was amazing, not only with animals but in general. Her capacity for caring seemed infinite. She was tender and loving toward every creature she treated, and as he watched her give Brutus a final hug and kiss before passing her off to Addison, he realized he wanted to be included in the things she loved. He’d endure dogs, cats, whatever. Hell, he’d even learn to love them, too, if it meant he could be a part of her life.

An image of her naked last night flashed through his head, and he smiled. Yeah, he’d totally become a dog guy if it meant he could be Fiona’s guy.

…

Fiona secured the wrapping on Henrietta Hen’s foot and took off her gloves, pitching them in the trash can under the table. She’d been surprised when Jake had offered to serve as vet tech for the abscess debridement. Evidently his discomfort didn’t extend to poultry.

“I’ll release her,” Fiona said, taking the bundle from Jake. She placed it on the ground and unfolded the towel Henrietta had been bound in like a burrito. As expected, the pullet gave an indignant squawk, flapped her wings, shook herself head to tail like a dog, then hustled out of the barn, oblivious to the bandage between her toes and around the ball of her foot. “You caught it early, Addison. Only stage two. Be sure to wear gloves when you treat her. I’m leaving you some antibiotics. I know you’ve dealt with pododermatitis before, so do the usual. Soak, disinfect, wrap. She should be fine.”

“Thanks, Dr. Nichol. I really appreciate you coming out here,” Addison said as they stepped out into the sunshine.

Fiona shielded her eyes from the sun and blinked, intensely aware of Jake’s big body behind her. “I’m grateful for all you and your family do for our homeless pet charity and for your work with unwanted and mistreated animals. I’m happy to come out any time.”

Dang. It was like her body had some little imbedded Jacob Ward compass, because it felt like her cells completely rearranged themselves to focus solely on him as he stepped up beside her, and she had a sudden urge to run her hands under his shirt and over his chest. She thought about that group session where Jake’s clients reenacted things they had resisted doing in public. Her fingers curled and straightened as she imagined the surprised look on Addison’s face as she ripped Jake’s shirt off, sending buttons flying across the hay-strewn floor.

With a sigh, she slid her hands into her pockets instead of his shirt, a secret smile tugging the corners of her mouth. When she glanced over, Jacob was studying her, one eyebrow raised in question and an answering, smoldering look on his face.

Oblivious to the private heat wave passing between her guests, Addison asked, “I know Dr. Nichol has seen it, but do you want a tour of the farm, Jacob?”

He opened his mouth, but Fiona cut him off before he could answer. “We really need to wash up and get back to the city.”

Fast. Like really fast.

Side by side, Jake and Fiona washed up to the elbows with disinfectant at a utility sink on the outside wall of the barn. It was as if she were a radio tuned to his frequency, static flying when his elbow brushed hers repeatedly, no doubt on purpose.

“Houston, we have a problem,” she whispered when she and Jake finally settled into their train seats, dogs in their carriers underneath.

“We do?” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye she was beginning to recognize. He totally knew where her NASA reference was going.

“Yeah.” Suddenly a bit reticent, she took in the empty seats around them, then stared at her feet. It wasn’t shyness this time. It was simply an overwhelming rush of emotion. This man… “You did a great job with those dogs today. That was a trial by fire for sure, and you pulled right through.” She bit her lip, willing this weird fluttering in her chest to abate. Imagining herself behind the award podium, she wondered if she would have even half of his bravery when her own trial by fire came. She would. For him, she would.

“Okay, Mission Control,” he said, running a finger up and down her forearm. “You said there was a problem.”

She fought back a smile and coached her expression to one of seriousness. “Well, yes, there is.” She sat back in her seat and crossed her legs. “We are still at least T-minus ninety minutes before a possible liftoff, and I’m feeling a little anxious.”

He laughed and sat back in his seat, too. “I’m told the recent launches were successful and there’s a really spectacular payload on this one and it’ll be totally worth the wait.”

And it was.

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