Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
But today’s not the day.
“You’re so much like Peter sometimes.” Luca’s jade-green eyes study my features, and for a second, it feels like he’s seeing someone else, although he’s looking right at me.
Luca’s not the first person to have told me I resemble my brother. We both had honey-brown hair. We both loved animals and had chosen to work as vets, following in our dad’s footsteps. We were both stubborn and independent. We didn’t care what people thought about us.
That’s probably why Mom was never too fond of us. We were both too similar to her ex-husband, to the point where she didn’t feel like we were hers.
That’s a good thing, by the way. My mom’s a terrible human being, and I’d die before I become like her.
“How long will you be in town for?” Luca asks yet another question.
“Forever, hopefully,” I say.
“You’re staying for good?” he asks with a mixture of surprise and something else . . . something I can’t decode. I can’t tell if he’s happy to hear the news.
“Yeah. I’ve always planned on coming back and helping Peter at the clinic, but . . .” I let my voice trail off as I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat, to no avail. I’d better not start crying again. “Well, I’m here now, and nobody else can run the clinic, so here I am.”
“I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear that.”
I notice he doesn’t say he’s happy to hear that. It shouldn’t matter, though.
We’re the only animal clinic in Ashbourne. Without us, pet owners would have to drive about one hour to the nearest town, Dewhurst, to see a vet.
“I hope so.” I nod.
For a moment, Luca and I look at each other wordlessly, me itching to turn on the ignition and drive away, him seemingly still unwilling to let me leave. With him standing there, I can’t even close the car door.
“Do you still have my number?” he asks.
“Yeah, if you haven’t changed it in five years.”
“I haven’t,” he says. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Most likely, though, I won’t.
I mean, don’t get me wrong; Luca’s sexy as sin. Even in this quiet little town, women ogle him, giggle around him, and slip him their numbers. I’m pretty sure a big portion of Luca’s clientele is just women wanting him to touch them, mark them with his tattoo gun, and maybe even fuck them.
I mean, I used to be one of those women—sort of.
But to get involved with him would be trouble. I don’t need the complications.
There are two things I need to focus on: run the clinic and indulge in my secret vice.
Luca can’t help me with either.
“I mean it. You can call me any time,” Luca repeats, as if he’s been reading my mind.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I’ll be needing a tattoo, though.”
Especially considering the last time he inked me, I ended up spread-eagle on the tattoo table with his face between my thighs.
“It doesn’t have to be for a tattoo,” he says so earnestly I feel bad about making that remark.
“I know.” I smile and deliberately let an awkward silence descend upon us, knowing Luca’s running out of questions to stall me. He was never very talkative.
“Do you want me to sleep at the clinic?” Luca asks, all of a sudden.
What? How am I supposed to do anything with his watchful eyes on me?
“Uh, no, that won’t be necessary.”
“It’s not safe, Sarah.” Luca’s voice loses its calm quality. He seems deeply concerned.
“What do you mean?”
“Things aren’t like they used to be five years ago. You can’t be too careful.”
“Have there been more crimes lately?” I ask.
Luca averts his gaze for a split second. “Something like that.”
Is that a lie he just came up with?
But why would he tell me a lie?
I can’t bring myself to believe that he’d lie just to get in my pants right after the funeral of my brother, who was also his best friend. Luca’s not like that. I get the feeling he’s worried about something.
“Can you be more detailed than that?” I ask.
Luca hesitates, his bulging muscles tensing as he pauses. Slowly, carefully, he says, “There’s been a problem with increased drug abuse lately, and the clinic has . . . some of the things those junkies want.”
Great. Just the cherry I need on top of my shit sundae.
“Of course it does.” I sigh. “We had a similar problem at this big animal hospital I worked at in the city. They had this security system that . . . Ah, I’m actually not sure how it worked myself, but there’s this company that installs security systems specifically to prevent theft in medical facilities.” I glance at my watch. “It’s pretty late in the afternoon. I’ll call them tomorrow.”
This is exactly what I need. A goal-oriented task with a measurable outcome.