Holiday Games (A Play-By-Play Novella) Read online

  Maybe her luck was finally changing.

  At six forty-five they cleared out the remnants of donut nirvana and Rachel, ever efficient, booted up the computer, while Emma and Leanne set up the rooms and instruments, ready for the first patients to start rolling in.

  And did they ever. The first clients started coming in as soon as they opened the doors at seven. The clinic offered drop-off service for people on their way to work in Tulsa. Since they were on the main road leading to the highway, it was convenient. People could drop off their animals, Emma would diagnose and treat them throughout the course of the day, and their owners could pick them up on their way home from work. She charged a minimum boarding fee to house them for the day.

  By eight o’clock, the appointment customers started piling in, and Emma reacquainted herself with the people in her town. She’d been so busy renovating the clinic, updating inventory, and working with her staff since she’d come home that she’d had no time to visit with anyone. She wished she’d had a chance to see her sister, but Molly didn’t come home. Ever. Period. If she wanted to see her little sister, she had to first track her down because Molly was as mobile as they came. And then she had to fly or drive to whatever location Molly called home that particular month.

  They talked on the phone at least once a week, and that would have to be good enough for now.

  At the moment she had her hands full with a hundred and forty pounds of very exuberant Newfoundland, who was happily slobbering on her neck as she performed an exam.

  “He’s very healthy, Mrs. Lang,” she said, as she and Leanne wrangled King, who was determined to play with them. He stuck out his tongue and slurped her face.

  Good thing she appreciated dog drool.

  “He’s eating my pear tree. Bits of bark at a time.” Mrs. Lang did not look happy.

  “Do you take him out for walks? How big is your backyard? Do you have other dogs for him to play with?”

  “King is our only dog, and the yard is small. And well . . . he’s kind of a lot to handle. It was my husband Roger’s idea to get him.” Mrs. Lang looked mournfully at King. “He was such a cute little puppy.”

  Many people thought puppies were so cute. The problem was, cute puppies often grew into giant dogs. Like King. She glanced over at King’s chart to check out the Lang’s address. “He needs exercise and stimulation. There’s a great park over on Fifth near your house. Does he walk on a leash?”

  “Yes. Very well. I made Roger take him to those classes.”

  “Excellent. If you walk him twice a day and take him to the park, it will help work off all this energy he has. Also, I highly recommend neutering him. You don’t want him to get out and father a bunch of unwanted pups, do you? And it will help settle him.”

  “Oh, of course. Let’s do that.” She smirked. “Roger won’t like that. Men and their . . . equipment, you know. They take it so personally. I’ll tell him it was your suggestion and he’ll do it. And I’ll make sure we walk him.” She patted her stomach. “We could all use the exercise.”

  The morning flew by in a blur of shots, exams, worming, and one tiny and filthy pit bull puppy someone had found in a ditch. She was a mass of flea-bitten adorable, a brown-and-white baby who’d either been abandoned or lost. The person dropping her off said she couldn’t keep her because she had two rottweilers at home and couldn’t possibly handle one more dog, but she couldn’t leave her shivering in the morning cold, either. Though it was late spring and the days were warming, the nights were still cool.

  Emma assured the woman they’d clean her up and find her a good home. She examined the pup, and other than needing a serious flea bath and a good meal, she was healthy, thankfully. She gave the pup to Leanne, who took her away to give her the flea bath and her first round of puppy shots.

  She only had time for a quick bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she’d packed for lunch when the second round of afternoon clients came in. Daisy wound her way around the clinic, checking in on Rachel and Leanne as they did their work, too. Emma was so thankful to be this busy, she had no complaints. They were jammed all afternoon until the last pickup at closing, when her staff finally left.

  It was quiet. She swiped her hair out of her eyes and breathed a sigh of utter contentment as she walked around the clinic.

  It had been a good first day. This is what she’d wanted, what she’d worked so hard for. She’d lost sight of it for a while and thought she’d never have it.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  Daisy’s ears perked up, and she bounded out of the office at the sound of the deep, booming voice in the lobby.

  Emma thought she’d locked the door.

  She hurried out to see a man holding a German shepherd by the leash who sat regally while Daisy tried to play with it.

  “Daisy, come here.”

  Daisy came over and sat dutifully next to her, tail whipping against Emma’s lab coat.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah. I saw your lights were on and was hoping you’d still be open. My dog hurt his leg.”

  He came toward her, and she took a wary step back, until he walked under the overhead lights and she saw he was wearing a cop uniform. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You scared me there for a second.”

  “I’m really sorry. Luke McCormack. I’m local police here. This is my dog, Boomer.”

  McCormack. Last name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She would definitely remember a guy who looked like him. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a uniform that fit him—very well. Dark brown pants, lighter brown shirt. Gun strapped to his hip. Very dark hair, cut short, full lips. Serious expression, which only made him look . . .

  Hot. Sexy. Though she didn’t think about men being sexy these days. She didn’t think about men at all, and hadn’t for a very long time.

  As he approached, she noticed the dog was limping. “Oh. What happened?”

  “We were chasing a perp—uh, a suspect. Boomer must have twisted his leg in a hole or something because he yelped and came up limping. I was headed toward the Barkley’s vet clinic and saw Doc Weston’s office was open again, so figured I’d stop here first. If you’re closed, I can—”

  “No. Of course, I’ll look at him. Bring him on back.” He walked side by side with her, and she noticed how very tall and broad he was. Daisy wound between them, licking the officer’s hand and staring adoringly up at him.

  Yeah, some watchdog you are, Daisy. Daisy wasn’t exactly what one could consider a personal bodyguard, unless excessive licking and an overabundance of affection counted as weaponry.

  Emma led the officer into the exam room and flipped on the lights, then turned around and knelt down, trying to calm her stupid, raging heartbeat. She smiled at the dog. “Okay, Boomer. Let’s take a look.”

  “Boomer. Sit,” the officer said.

  The dog sat and she examined his leg. He whimpered as she pressed on it. After finishing the exam, she lifted her gaze to the police officer. “Officer McCormack, I’d like to get an X-ray of this leg. I don’t think anything’s broken, but I want to be sure.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “You can come with me. It’ll calm him to have you there.”

  She brought them back to the X-ray room, and he helped her get Boomer on the table while she got his leg in place for the X-ray.

  “So, you bought Dr. Weston’s practice?” he asked.

  Again, that voice of his. Deep and seriously . . . unnerving, but not in a bad way. It was doing something to her nerve endings she found decidedly . . .

  Uncomfortable wasn’t the word. She just noticed his voice. And so did her body. “Yes. I bought it right after he retired.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I got your name.”

  She looked up at him and frowned, then realized she’d been
a complete moron and hadn’t bothered to introduce herself. “I’m so sorry, officer. I’m Emma Burnett.”

  “Nice to meet you, Emma. Are you new in town?”

  “Actually, I grew up here. My parents live over on Willow.”

  He nodded. “Did you go to Oakdale High?”

  “No. I went to Hope High.”

  “Oh, okay. The Burnetts on Willow. Your sister is Molly Burnett, then, right? She dated my friend Carter Richards in high school.”

  Hope was such a small town. Everyone knew everyone else. “Yes, Molly’s my little sister. Did you go to Hope High, too?”

  “No. I went to Oakdale.”

  That’s why she didn’t recognize him right off. He’d gone to the high school nearer to the county line. “Your name sounds familiar to me, too. Did you play football for Oakdale?”

  “Yeah. Wide receiver.”

  Now she knew why she recognized his name. He’d been some kind of football star. She remembered reading about him in the newspaper. He’d been good. But they hadn’t known each other back then.

  “So this is your clinic now?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  She grabbed the film and slid it in.

  “Luke.”

  She looked up. “Excuse me?”

  “Call me Luke. Not officer, and definitely not sir. Too formal.”

  He’d cracked a smile. He had a quirky, kind of off-kilter smile, and greenish-blue eyes that went really well with his dark hair. He had a rugged face, a square jaw and again, that really sexy mouth.

  Not that she was looking at him in that way, because she didn’t do that anymore. She and men were definitely off-limits. She’d learned her lesson the hard way.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be nice to her clients. “Okay, then, Luke. Let’s get this X-ray going. I need you to position his leg here for me, then if possible, ask him not to move.”

  “No problem. Boomer—stay.”

  Boomer lay perfectly still as they went behind the screen so she could take the shot.

  “Good boy.” Luke said to Boomer after the X-ray was taken. He swept his hand over the dog’s back and neck, showing care and affection.

  She liked seeing that in a dog’s owner.

  “Just one more film and that should do it. I need to turn him this way.”

  Luke helped her, and she couldn’t help noticing his hands. Strong. Big. Masculine, with a fine sprinkling of dark hair on his forearms. He hadn’t worn a coat inside, and he had some serious upper arm muscles peeking out from the sleeve of his uniform shirt.

  But she wasn’t looking, and she definitely wasn’t interested, despite the pinging in her nerve endings that conveyed otherwise.

  Chemistry couldn’t be denied. But that was biology. She had a choice, and she already knew what her choices were these days regarding men.

  She took Luke behind the screen and captured the second X-ray.

  But he did smell really good, though it wasn’t cologne. Shampoo, maybe? Or soap? Did they make scented soap for men? She had no idea.

  But she wasn’t interested, so it didn’t matter what kind of soap he used.

  “Are we done?”

  She looked at him. “Yes. Yes, we are.” She turned one way and he went the other, so they bumped into each other. He reached out for her arms to steady her, and she found herself staring up into those amazing eyes of his.

  “Sorry,” he said with a deep laugh that Emma felt all the way down to her stomach. And maybe even a little lower.

  “No. It’s my fault.” He took a step back and she moved around him.

  He had her acting like a teenager all filled with raging hormones. Ugh.

  “Just wait here a second with Boomer so I can make sure we don’t need to retake any shots.”

  She hurried out of the room and took a deep breath when she got into the reading room.

  What was wrong with her? She’d had male customers all day long. Some had been really good-looking, too, yet none of them had affected her like Luke was doing now.

  Likely because she hadn’t been alone with any one man all day. That had to be it. She never put herself in a position to be alone with a guy. And though Luke was a police officer, owned a dog, and seemed all nice and trustworthy, she knew better than to trust any man.

  She’d been naïve and trusting once, and it had cost her dearly. She was never going to be that stupid again, no matter how gorgeous a man was, or how nice he seemed.

  Or how good he smelled.

  Besides, this was the year of her career and nothing else. And so far, day one had been spectacular.

  Jaci Burton is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of over sixty books. She lives in Oklahoma and when she isn’t on deadline (which is often), she can usually be found wrestling with her uncooperative garden, wrangling her dogs, watching an unhealthy amount of television, or completely losing track of time reading a great book. She’s a total romantic and longs for the happily ever after in every story, which you’ll find in all her books. Visit the author online at jaciburton.com.