Page 16 of Hold Me Instead (Elmwood Falls #1)

Zachary

“So how long did you say you’d be in town for?”

Zachary kept his eyes away from the client and instead on her Maltese, whose bright pink bows bobbed in the way of an ear inspection. “No end date at the moment. When was Muffin’s last checkup?”

He could easily check the paperwork, but it was better to keep this woman distracted.

“A year or so ago,” she purred, tilting her head so her blonde waves could swing over her shoulder. Her elbows rested on the small exam table across from Zachary, the low-cut top of her shirt creating a display. “How long has it been since you’ve been back?”

On a night out, he’d have no problem with the obvious signs she was throwing his way.

But today, and at work, he wasn’t feeling it.

It could be due to the strain at the practice—they were overbooked, and at rates he’d discovered hadn’t been updated in ages.

Could be the major health scare with his father, which he still hadn’t processed.

Could be that he didn’t have a job to return to.

Or could it be his current boss , the woman who made him run hot and cold?

She’d been oddly quiet the day before—unnerving.

His second full day in rotation with them had gone smoothly, but she’d kept her distance.

He’d watch her smile and laugh with staff, but barely nod to him in passing.

Just as well, since he’d been completely focused on not fucking up so he could prove his presence there was the right one.

Today, she’d waltzed into their office from the morning storm, wearing that brightly striped raincoat, and he’d felt a sense of relief as she joked about it raining cats and dogs.

She even chuckled at her own words as she said them, knowing how well-worn they were.

Her enjoyment had made him smile. Then she’d informed him he’d incorrectly entered notes into the server, which pissed him off not only because he’d spent extra time double-checking his work, but also because she was the one to catch it.

Then she’d revealed a scrub top with rainbows and kittens and puppies, and he’d literally felt his blood pressure drop.

Being around her was like a hit of cardio.

“Dr. Lee?”

He’d been inspecting the dog on autopilot, preferring his own thoughts to this ill-timed conversation. He fumbled for her last question.

“Uh. It’s been about six years,” he answered. He stepped to the computer and entered some notes. “We’ll run a full blood panel on Muffin since she’s due, make sure everything is good. But otherwise, she looks healthy.”

The woman walked over and placed a hand on his forearm, her chilled, pale fingers spearing the sleeve of his white coat. “I really appreciate it. I’d love to take you out for a drink, help you get reacclimated to the area. Maybe tonight?”

“Thanks, but I can’t.” He glanced at her with a quick smile, then back to the monitor.

“How about tomorrow night? ”

“Thank you, but no, Ms…” He scanned the screen, trying to locate her name.

“Please, call me Anna.”

Hell , no .

He cleared his throat as he closed the file. “Thanks for the offer, but no. Jasmine will be in shortly to get bloodwork, and we’ll be in touch. About Muffin.” He closed the door on her open mouth. Grateful to find Jasmine in the hall, he gave her the update and hurried to his office.

That was the last appointment for Friday, but he’d be sticking around a few more hours. He still had his dad’s paperwork, and apparently, plenty to fix from the day before.

Rounding into the office, he stopped in his tracks, finally registering the quiet. The sound of shuffling footsteps as techs cleaned up faded as he looked into the small room.

Charlie had a hip to her desk, her arms tight against her stomach, staring out the window as wind whipped the trees.

One hand moved up and down the opposite arm in a soothing motion.

The gray of dusk cast a filtered glow, highlighting the mess of her loose ponytail.

The sight of her made him hold his breath.

She was the stillness and, yet, embodied the storm.

He didn’t want to break the spell, but he needed to know what cast it.

“You sure do make good use of the view,” he said.

Immediately, he regretted the simple words, which were no match for the glistening hazel eyes that turned his way.

Without thought, he was standing next to her.

“Charlie?” He said it softly, reverently.

Not wanting to add a wave to whatever had rocked her.

She looked into his eyes, blinking rapidly to fight back tears. Their honey and green hue was amped up to amber and moss, the muted light hitting her from the side, her lashes damp and richly dark. Light pink splotches dotted her face, and Zachary reached out to touch her arm.

“Hey, Harris, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head slightly, not moving away from his touch.

She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then let it out.

“We lost a patient today. Eighteen-year-old cat. His dad—this sweet old man—has been sick, and his caregiver brought the cat in today.” She let out a sad laugh, using it to step away from Zachary.

“It’s never easy. Not sure why this one’s hitting me so hard. ”

Zachary watched her tug her hair free and whip it into a knot on her head, swiping under her eyes as she cleared her throat.

Suddenly, all he could picture was high-school Charlie, the first time she’d been assisting at the clinic when an animal was put to rest. He didn’t know her well at the time, but he remembered everything about her in that moment—the teal scrubs, black metal glasses framing glistening eyes, the way she bit on her lip to stay composed, like it was a test to pass.

All he’d wanted to do was hug her and tell her it’d be okay.

He didn’t do it then, but watching her hands shake as she picked up her glasses and wiped the lenses, he could hold her now.

Zachary moved slowly, not wanting her to bolt, but giving her time to voice if she wanted space.

Instead, her hands stopped moving, her eyes aimed at her desk.

She bit that lip again, probably trying to fight whatever emotions wanted to burst free.

He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, and when she leaned into his touch, guided her to face him and pulled her close.

Although he told himself she needed the comfort, as soon as she was in his arms, he realized how selfish the act had been.

He needed her touch—when Charlie’s arms went around his waist, he released a contented sigh.

That subtle scent of lavender wafted off her hair, and as he slid his hand up and down her back, she let out a wobbly breath.

While it must have been in relief, the sound triggered satisfaction in him that he’d succeeded in caring for her, and he felt a surge of pride. His hold on her tightened.

“Oh, no.” Charlie pushed back from Zachary. “Oh, shit, Zachary…”

“What?” He was confused by her flustered state, eager to rewind a few seconds.

She opened her desk drawer and yanked out a wipe. “Great, I messed up your perfect coat. And your perfectly tailored button-down. For crying out loud, don’t you own other colors…”

He stared dumbly at her hands as she gripped his navy shirt with one and blotted furiously with the other. Her eyelashes fanned over damp cheeks, her nose pink.

And her cheeks burned red. “We had an old dog with an anal gland abscess right after the cat. I didn’t expect…”

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Zachary said, his voice oddly rough to his own ears.

Her blotting slowed, and she pulled back to observe the wet patch on his coat and shirt.

She pressed her lips together, then offered a consolation pat on his shoulder.

“You know what?” She tossed the wipe into the small garbage bin, then shoved folders around her desk like a TV background actor, needing direction.

“You were too pristine anyway. You probably manage that like, every day, don’t you? ”

He stilled her, his hand on her elbow. “Hey. I’m sorry you had a shit day.”

She sighed and looked at him with a tilt of her head. She seemed to give in to some secret decision as she said, “I appreciate your kindness. ”

He laughed, surprised by her formal response.

Her answering smile stretched full across her face, and Zachary’s breath stuttered.

She looked at him like he mattered, like she enjoyed the person he was.

Like she was really seeing him. A lightness eased his shoulders, as though she had whisked away everything that weighed on his mind.

She had to know how much power her smile held, and yet, the glimmer of affection he saw in her eyes told him she had no clue. She was just being Charlie.

A spark of lightning filled the room, pulling their attention to the window. They watched it for a moment, silent, and he found himself counting in his head until the thunder rumbled.

“To be honest, the cat made me think of your dad.” Charlie said it softly, still looking out the window.

Zachary focused on the rain as it cascaded along the pane of glass, afraid taking too deep of a breath would stop her.

“I was with him the first time. I’ll never forget how caring he was, to the pet, to its family.

Even to me. He provided this warmth to everyone, like he was wrapping the entire moment in a loving blanket.

I’ve always strived to live up to that.”

Zachary knew. He knew when it had been Dale’s time, how much he’d wished his dad had been there beside him.

“I think I missed him today,” Charlie said, her voice cracking. “Which is silly, he’s alright. He’s going to be alright.” Though a statement, there was a hint of a question to her words.

It was true—he was doing well, considering. But his doctor had hinted at a long recovery. Something the Lee family hadn’t really dissected yet.

For now, Zachary could answer Charlie as honestly as possible.

“He’s going to be okay. They’re making sure of it. And you know my dad, he won’t let it be any other way. ”

Her eyes softened, her smile fond as she faced him. “Daniel’s as stubborn as he is kind.”

He grunted, uncomfortable with the truth. “That’s for damn sure. They’re um, treating him for hypertension. Thinking stress led to all this.”

Her eyes darted between his. “He’s been working too hard. See, I knew I shouldn’t…”

She hadn’t voiced the rest of her thought, but it started much like his own.

Like, if I’d never left … Not her, though.

What could she have done? He wanted to touch her hand in reassurance.

Thank her for being a good partner to his dad.

For looking out for him. He wanted to apologize for his actions and words.

But he didn’t want to scare her off. He slipped off his white coat and draped it over his chair, her eyes tracking his movements.

“I’m going to fix my files in the system,” Zachary said.

“Oh! Great.”

“Jasmine wrote up notes on what I need to do.”

“Yeah, she’s an expert at it. Keeps us all in line.”

“I, um, I did have a couple questions, if you have a minute?”

He had no clue what he wanted to ask her. Jasmine’s instructions were very clear, even using one of his mistakes as a detailed example. At the risk of feeling stupid, he wanted her nearby more.

For the next half hour, he managed to find enough to keep her around—including making more mistakes in front of her, which was not part of the plan.

It gave him plenty of time to memorize the flicks of her wrist as she pointed at the screen, the square shape of her bare fingernails, how small her hands looked next to his.

Just when he found himself about to comment, to measure palm to palm—what was wrong with him? —she scooted back in her chair.

“Wow, I didn’t realize the time. I need to feed Toothless.” She moved to pack up.

“Toothless?”

“My cat.” She draped her purse over her raincoat and gave him a look. “You gonna be alright finishing this on your own?”

He scoffed. “I could finish this in my sleep.”

“That’s what we might accuse you of,” she said, heading to the door. He laughed, and she stopped just before disappearing into the hall. “You know, Jasmine has a lot on her plate. We don’t have time to hold your hand, Dr. Lee.”

Zachary dipped his head, grinning. “Understood, Dr. Harris.”

“Hm,” she hummed, a smirk playing.

The room bounced with light, and a clap of thunder sounded, this time closer.

“Yikes. Okay, I should really go,” she said.

“Be careful,” he said. “Um. Of course you will be. It’s just…habit. Dad says that to us all the time.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“Right.” He tapped his desk, brow furrowed at the thought that his dad went around saying that to other people.

Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he’d heard his father say it.

The habit had been instilled in Zachary since he was little, so it had felt natural to do it with Anna.

By the time they were married though, she’d rolled her eyes at the sentiment, getting insulted that he thought she wasn’t a great driver.

Embarrassingly, he’d never considered the words from that point of view before.

Saying them now, to Charlie, he felt an entirely different meaning attached.

Possibly the one his dad had meant all along.

“Zachary?”

He looked up at her.

“Thanks.”

He swallowed with a small nod.

“Goodnight.” Her smile was small, but the sadness from earlier had lessened.

“Night,” he said, the word soft.

She stepped backward into the hall until she was out of sight.

Though she definitely wasn’t out of mind.