Single Kid Seeks Dad. Linda Randall Wisdom
onto a table and began drying him with a hair dryer.
Nick looked expectantly at Lucy. “A dog would be good. Every boy should have one,” he piously announced.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’m sure after working here for six months you’ll have your fill of dogs.”
“Didn’t you have any pets when you were growing up?” Logan asked her.
She shook her head. “My dad claimed he was allergic to goldfish. My mom told my brother and me that he was my pet and I was his. We agreed it just wasn’t the same.”
“At least you didn’t have to worry about fleas.” Logan walked over and draped a towel over the terrier before picking him up from the tub and carrying him over to a table for drying.
“Or getting him neutered,” Lucy said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Uncle Zach neutered.” Nick snickered.
“It’s not a word we guys like to hear,” Logan told him. He stepped back and watched Lucy towel-dry the terrier and mutter nonsense words to the dog. For a woman who claimed not to understand dogs, she was doing a good job of using the dryer, brush and comb on the dog and talking to him in the slightly high-pitched tone dogs enjoyed. She laughed when the dog jumped up on his hind legs and offered her a wet kiss.
“Who couldn’t resist a charmer like you?” she cooed at the dog.
Abruptly, he called out to Kristi, “Get one of the Adoption Day T-shirts for Lucy, will you?” Then he made for the door leading to the clinic.
He felt a tightening within his body at the idea of Lucy giving him the kind of attention she gave the dog. He wouldn’t mind a kiss on the nose. Or any other part of his body…
Lucy hadn’t missed the vibes practically jumping off Logan. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he had looked at her the way a big ol’ tomcat looked at a fat mouse. Not that she’d call herself fat. The man was interested. And why wouldn’t he act interested now? she asked herself. She’d been tracking him like a cat who hadn’t been fed in days.
“Three hours here and I’m already thinking in animal metaphors,” she murmured.
“Animal metaphors?” Kristi said, walking up with a bright red T-shirt in one hand. “This could be interesting.” She held out the garment.
“Cute.” Lucy looked at the black-lined heart centered on the shirt with “Adopt With an Open Heart” written inside it. “But there’s nothing on here to advertise the clinic.” She wasn’t surprised to see that Kristi’s shirt was black with a red heart.
“Logan doesn’t have these adoption days to promote the clinic. He does it to find homes for the animals.” Kristi stroked the head of the terrier who leaned contentedly against her leg. “Which is why I have two cats and a turtle at home. Jeremy has two dogs and Gwen has three. Brenda says she refuses to give in to the animals. But how can you resist these faces?” She bent down, cupped the terrier’s face in her hands and gave him a smooch. “Huh, Sweetie Pie?”
“Kristi named her that because she’s so sweet,” Nick explained, coming out from the rear of the kennels, now wearing an oversized red shirt himself.
Lucy felt as if she was seeing a new side to her son. He’d quickly become a part of this group. He might have been thirteen to Kristi’s nineteen, but the young woman treated him as an equal. Lucy felt a sudden constriction in her chest.
My baby’s growing up.
She suddenly turned away to hide the tears she could feel forming in her eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” Her voice sounded thick to her ears.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Kristi asked.
“I’m fine. Maybe I’m allergic to one of the dogs,” she muttered as she grabbed her tote bag and made her escape to a nearby bathroom.
When she left the small room later, her eyes were mercifully dry and she wore the T-shirt over black shorts she’d brought with her. She was walking with her head down, so intent on not looking for Logan, that she didn’t realize she was on a collision course until she literally walked into his chest.
“Oomph!” She reared back so quickly she would have fallen on her butt if Logan hadn’t grabbed hold of her arms. “Sorry.” She tried to step back but he still didn’t release her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“You have a hard chest,” she said, and then could have kicked herself when she saw the amused glint in his eyes. She noticed they were deep, brown and dusted with gold.
Cat eyes. She mentally gave herself a good shake. Stop with the animal metaphors!
“Lucy.”
It wasn’t until then she realized he must have said her name more than once.
“Sorry. I’m not used to being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn.”
He grinned. “Not a morning person, are you?”
“Not even close. It usually takes four or five cups of industrial-strength coffee to get me going.”
Logan’s smile was slow and way too dangerous for Lucy’s peace of mind. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He walked away before she could ask for clarification. She decided she was better off not knowing.
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