A Tender Touch. Lenora Worth
looking toward a highly amused Stone, “he’s, we’re, cops. K-9 Unit, downtown Atlanta.”
“Oh.” Freddie lifted her hand away from the dog, her smile freezing in place, his words making sense now as a trickle of disappointment settled in her stomach. Oh, well, she could still be polite, at least. “How interesting. I’m actually—”
“Hey, you two, we need more pictures,” Ana called, waving to Stone and Clay.
“Oh, boy,” Stone said, shrugging. “Greta Epperson is having a field day. Wants to put us in living color on the society page of the paper.” Then he turned to Freddie. “It’s on page three of the three pages they print, you understand.”
Freddie laughed again, her hand on Samson’s head. “I do understand. She interviewed me when I first came to town, what with me being the new—”
“Come on,” Ana called again, interrupting as she hurried toward them, then dragged Stone back with her toward the gathering group. “You, too,” she called over her shoulder to Clay.
Clay whirled around, then stopped to glance back at Freddie. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” Freddie said, her heart fluttering like a trapped sandpiper. “Could…could Samson sit here with me while you go pose for posterity?”
A sigh of obvious relief left his body as he walked backward a couple of steps. “That would be nice. He’s had a rough time lately. He’s recovering from an injury he received while on duty and well…”
“He needs some nurturing?”
He nodded, his blue-green eyes melting her with an intense look of appreciation. “Yeah, he could use some tender loving care. Just until I can get him to the local vet next week for a follow-up checkup and the rest of his therapy sessions.”
Freddie watched as Clay turned and trotted toward the group gathered for a picture, with Greta Epperson in her big-framed glasses and satin fifties-style pink dress issuing orders and posing people.
“But…I am the local vet,” Freddie said to Samson, her smile secretive and sure as she rubbed his thick, furry neck. “I’ll take care of you, Samson. I promise.”
Samson’s big black ears shot up, then he settled his nose against the fabric of her floral dress and smiled back.
“She’s—”
“Pretty,” Rock said before Clay could finish. “Is that the word you were looking for, brother?”
Clay shot a grin toward Rock. “Not exactly. I forget I’m not out on the streets of Atlanta. Have to watch my mouth and my manners.”
“Please do,” Ana said as they all smiled for yet another picture from the photographer Greta had dragged along to the wedding. Then Ana leaned close to Clay. “Freddie has had a rough time. Her husband was killed about a year ago—I’m not sure what happened. She has a six-year-old son named Ryan.”
“Really?” Clay wanted to know more, but the photographer was jostling them around so he was forced to face forward and step out of the way.
“Really,” Ana replied over her shoulder. “And she’s not interested, by the way.”
“Who’s asking.” Clay shrugged, then looked toward where Fredrica Hayes sat patting Samson’s head. The dog seemed content to keep right on sitting there while the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman scratched him between the ears.
Clay couldn’t blame poor Samson. When he’d come around the corner and found her standing there, his heart had skidded to a stop just about as screeching as Samson’s big feet. Even now, it was beating rather erratically. Fredrica Hayes was pretty, but there was something more. She looked very lithe and athletic, as if she worked out on a regular basis. She didn’t have many curves, but what she had fit the package perfectly.
“Are you sure?” he asked Ana under his breath.
Ana’s eyebrows lifted with purposeful intent. “About Freddie? Well, she said she wasn’t ready for any type of relationship. She’s only been on the island a couple of weeks and she’s still getting adjusted…but you never know, now do you?”
“No, you never know,” Clay replied. “At least she likes dogs.”
“It’s a start,” Ana said, her expression a little too pleased. Then with a little laugh, she gave him a shove. “What are you waiting for?”
Clay wondered that himself. What was he waiting for? He’d come home to find some peace and quiet and to do some soul-searching. This was supposed to be a time to heal, not a time to fall for the first woman Samson happened to buddy up to. But then, Samson was a very smart animal. Maybe Clay should just do what he’d always done regarding his K-9 partner.
Follow his lead.
Chapter Two
The Sunset Island Animal Hospital was located just off Lady Street, the main thoroughfare through the island. The hospital was on a quaint side street that boasted tiny private cottages mixed in with boutiques and restaurants. The clinic sat at the end of the street near the bay, on a large lot away from the other houses and buildings.
Clay had walked Samson here, hoping to give the eager dog some exercise. He wasn’t sure what to expect in the way of follow-up therapy. Lately, it seemed his dog was in therapy more than he’d been…after the accident.
“But we’re here to get you well, fellow,” Clay said to his partner. “We want to get back to work, right?”
Samson whimpered his answer, as if he understood completely what Clay was saying. Clay was about to answer him when a bicycle came whizzing by them.
A bicycle ridden by Fredrica Hayes.
Clay felt a rush of breath leaving his body as he halted Samson by tugging on his leash. “Hmm, how ’bout that, Samson. Looks as if our new friend is headed to the clinic, too.”
Maybe she had a sick animal there. Maybe she’d hang around and Clay could take her to lunch later. Maybe he’d been off the dating circuit for way too long now.
A lot of maybes.
“Hi,” Clay called as she turned to smile at them.
“Hello.” She parked the bike beside the building then headed up the narrow stone steps to the creamy yellow clinic. “What brings you two out so early today?”
Clay watched, amused, as Samson tugged at the leash. He let the dog go, laughing when Samson headed to Freddie for an ear rub. “We’re supposed to check in with the vet—get Samson started on follow-up therapy.”
“Oh, right,” she said, nodding as she petted the dog. “Hello there, Samson. Remember me?”
“How could he forget,” Clay said before he had time to think. Then he grinned and looked out past the porch to the blue waters of the bay. A party barge glided by, the occupants laughing and talking. When would he learn to let his brain catch up with his mouth before he spoke?
“Dogs do have good memories,” Freddie said, tossing her long brown braid over her shoulder as she unlocked the door. “I believe you two are my first patients of the day.”
“You work here?” Clay asked, thanking the heavens for this delightful coincidence. He’d get to see her a lot if she worked for the vet.
“You could say that,” Freddie replied, winking down at Samson.
Samson’s big tongue fell out of his mouth.
Clay felt sure his was doing the same. She smelled even better than the gardenia bush blooming next to the porch. And she looked so natural and girl-next-door that he wondered why more men weren’t lined up with their dogs. He was sure glad he was the only one so far, however.
“So…do you assist, or just work the front desk?”