Page 4 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

“And his blood work?” she asks, each question coming in quick succession.

“He needed some electrolytes, but nothing that showed lasting damage to his kidneys or liver.” Harlowe nibbles at her lip like she has a list of questions trapped behind it.

I can see the need for reassurance written all over her face.

I roll the leather chair from the desk in the corner over for her to sit on and lift myself to take a seat on the table.

It’s been a long day. Before Grace left, I ran home to feed the night mare that lives in my backyard, and then rushed back to relieve her so I could stick around until Harlowe showed up. “Tell me what happened today—walk me through it.”

She watches me skeptically, like she doesn’t trust me yet. I hold up my hands to explain myself. “I’d like to hear how Echo ended up getting heatstroke, just to make sure I’m not overlooking any other concerns.”

“We were on a call for an injured hiker in the basin. He couldn’t tell us his exact location and it wasn’t supposed to be this humid.

I checked the weather, packed extra water, and we took lots of breaks.

But by the time we got to the hiker, Echo was already in trouble.

I knew making him hike out was dangerous, so we sent him down on the chopper. ”

I consider everything she’s told me before saying, “Every decision you made today was the right decision. Cooling him down and getting him out of there fast is the reason tonight is just a precaution. You did good, Harlowe.” Her name rolls off my tongue and I realize I’ve quickly let this get personal.

Letting her stay, talking to her like this without the formalities of doctor and handler feels good.

It feels like how I want to run this practice—like how I want my life to be now that I’m back.

“No, I should have left him home.”

“And would you have found Matt as fast without him?”

Her gaze drops to the floor. “We wouldn’t have.”

“Echo wants to work, and the team needed him today. You can’t control the weather, but you kept him safe, and you kept your patient safe.”

“Subject.”

“Hmmm?”

“Subject, not patient. That’s what we call them in the field.

But I hate how impersonal that is, so I try to use their names.

I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re just another call when they’re already having the worst day of their lives.

” When her eyes lift to mine, there’s a fresh pain, one that goes deeper than today.

“How did you get into search and rescue?”

She smiles, soft and bright, even though she’s weary.

The toll of the day is etched into the sag of her shoulders, but in the sterile treatment room, her beauty is even more evident than when she first walked into the clinic, and the question clears the haunted look making the blue in her eyes shine again.

Harlowe Corbin is stunning, but that’s not what I should be noticing when everyone in Timberline Peak is watching, waiting to see if I’ll fuck up or be able to fill Dr. McMullin’s shoes.

Still, I can’t help but be curious about her when the only thing I know is that she didn’t grow up here. And I like the fact that there’s someone in this town who doesn’t know me or my family—who hasn’t already formed an opinion based on the past, or what they think they know about me.

“My dad actually.” She curls her long legs under her, burrowing into the chair. “I have a little hero worship where he’s concerned.”

“Ah, I heard he was a legend.”

She laughs loud and bold, if not a little tired. “He would absolutely hate that.” Her smile lingers as she softens a little. “Why do I feel like you’re just trying to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

“It’s certainly not hurting.” She pauses before asking,“What made you want to be a vet?” Her hand sweeps the room.

“The short version is that I hit a stray cat the day I got my driver’s license. I stopped, and a car pulled up behind me. The driver found me kneeling on the pavement next to the cat, too afraid to touch it and hurt it worse, but I couldn’t leave its side.”

She winces. “Talk about a horrific memory to go along with a teenage rite of passage.”

“I was a mess. He got me up off the road and loaded the cat up into his car. He told me to follow him and I did—right back to his office. He saved the cat, and I knew this was what I wanted to do.”

“That’s not the direction I thought this story was going.”

“Nah, Bob lived happily ever after. He was possibly the most spoiled cat on the planet.”

Not every day in this job is a good one. In fact, some days are really fucking awful—they leave me questioning everything. But days like today are the reason I haven’t given up yet.

“You kept him?” She chuckles. It’s infectious and unrestrained, but I get the sense that Harlowe doesn’t hold anything back. Not her joy or her opinions. She’ll lay everything out and you can either take or leave it.

“We were trauma bonded and co-dependent for the rest of his life. He was fat and happy and I was a proud cat dad through college and vet school.”

“How very full circle. And now you’re here with a practice of your own. Did you just pick a dot on the map and call the local vet with an offer to buy?”

“Not exactly. The vet that saved Bob was Dr. McMullins. He’s been my mentor for a long time and we stayed close after I moved away.”

“So you’re from here,” she comments.

“I’m not sure this town claims people as residents when they’ve been away as long as I have.”

“But you’re back now. That’s gotta count for something.”

I shrug. “I’m pretty sure everyone I saw this week is waiting for me to fail simply because I’m not Ray. And the speculation about everything in my life . . . yikes.”

“Ouch. Small town gossip can be a real bitch. Don’t let it get to you.”

“Got any tips for brushing off all the comments about me still being an unwed, scrub-wearing slob that doesn’t take checks?”

Her eyes crawl over me lazily. “Some of the people here can be . . .” She considers her words.

“A little stuck in their ways. But I like the scrubs, don’t change those.

Maybe reconsider the checks—they’ll never let you live that down.

Marcy tried that over at Powderline Donuts, and they almost ran her out of town. ”

“I'll take it under advisement.”

She yawns. “Sorry, it was a long day and I’m crashing fast. I’m afraid I’m about to become incredibly boring company.”

“Did you come straight here?” It’s a dumb question because in the hour I’ve known Harlowe, that answer is already obvious. Grace and the nurse weren’t lying; this dog means everything to her.

“Yeah.”

“I was just going to order some food. If you’re going to stick around, you should probably eat.”

Her gaze shifts to Echo, who’s sleeping soundly. “I could eat.”

“Is there any place here that delivers?”

“Just Gondoughla Pizzeria,” she says.

“Pizza it is.” I pull out my phone, finding their website.

“Actually, can I order?” She lifts her chin, giving me those blue eyes that make me momentarily forget what I’m supposed to be doing. “I’m allergic to mushrooms.”

“Yeah, of course.” I hand her my phone.

She looks at me, her brows knitting together before she takes it. “You’re just going to hand me, a total stranger, your phone?”

“Judging by the stake you claimed on my clinic for the night, I doubt you’re going to run off with it.”

She sucks on her cheek. “No, but I might snoop through your pictures and see if I can find anything incriminating.”

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. My life is pretty uneventful these days.”

“Not many guys just hand over their phone, even when they know a woman.”

“Doesn’t sound like you hang out with men who deserve to know you.”

“Ouch. That one hurts.”

“Too close to the truth?”

“You have no idea. I have terrible taste in men. Call it . . . reverse daddy issues. Mine is so great that I know no one can live up to the hype, so I pick losers because you can’t be disappointed if the bar is already on the ground.

” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. ”

Harlowe pulls the long arm of the flannel over her hands and lifts the phone to her ear. She must be cold; those clothes have to be sweat-soaked, and now she’s sitting here in the air conditioning. I cross the room, opening a drawer where I store some spare scrubs.

“Any requests for the pizza?”

“No black olives. Not allergic, just hate them.”

“Are you a picky eater, Doctor?”

Damn, I like the sound of that nickname coming out of her mouth. It’s never really been a thing for me before, but in her warm, teasing voice, with sleep rough at its edges, it’s intoxicating.

“Not at all.” I lick my lips.

She places the order for one large pepperoni pizza with onions and green peppers, giving the server information on her allergy. “Oh, and extra pepperoncini, please.”

She hangs up, handing my phone back to me.

“You’ve got to be cold. Do you want to change?” I hold out the scrubs.

She takes them from me. “It would feel good to get out of these clothes.”

My dick takes her words and runs. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “You can use my office.”

I try really hard not to think about her naked in my office while she changes.

It’s a hard-fought battle, and when she comes out in my scrubs to wait for the pizza with me, I realize it was pointless because seeing her in my navy blue scrubs somehow has more of an effect on me than anything I could have imagined.