Page 12 of Pugs & Kisses

B ryson studied the black-and-white screen as he glided the transducer along the German shepherd puppy’s right side. Based on when the owner suspected the dog had ingested the foreign object, it would no longer be in the stomach.

“How long has he owned Rocket?” Bryson asked Chloe Oliver, the surgical tech who’d been assigned to him today.

“Christmas,” she said. “Justin—that’s the owner—said his girlfriend gave him Rocket as a Christmas present. It’s his first time ever owning a dog.”

“I guess he didn’t realize puppies can be as inquisitive as babies when it comes to putting things in their mouths. He’ll need to pay better attention to him. Hold on,” Bryson said. He guided the wand back a few centimeters. “I think I found it. Let’s turn Rocket onto his back.”

He helped Chloe maneuver the puppy, who was much more manageable after the sedative Bryson had given him.

He usually tried to avoid even mild sedation during noninvasive procedures, but Rocket had lived up to his name.

The moment they’d placed him on the table, the dog had shot up and dove off the side like… well… a rocket.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Bryson said. He zoomed in on the cranial region of the abdomen. “Yep. Look here at the duodenum.”

Chloe squinted from where she stood, gently rubbing Rocket’s head. “I’ll be damned.”

“Does that look like a ’68 Custom Camaro Hot Wheels to you? It looks like one to me,” Bryson said.

“Sure does,” she said. She shook her head. “Do you think it would have had a chance of making it through if it hadn’t turned horizontal?”

He shook his head. “He’s lucky it hasn’t torn through the small intestine already.”

Chloe leaned over and kissed the dog on his head. “Poor baby must be in so much pain. Let’s hope his owner is willing to pay for surgery.”

“He said that Hot Wheels is worth a thousand bucks. It’s going to cost more than that to get it out, but I’d say you’re worth it,” he spoke directly to the puppy as he ran a hand along his flank.

“I’ll consult with Dr. Wu, then talk with the owner.

Start prepping Rocket for surgery. Whether he’s willing to pay for it or not, I’m not letting this dog suffer. ”

“Um, Dr. Mitchell. Do you—”

“I know the laws regarding informed consent,” Bryson told her, chuckling at the alarmed look on her face. “Don’t worry, I won’t go against the owner’s expressed wishes. I will just make sure Justin wishes to move forward with the surgery.” He winked. “I have my ways.”

Bryson peeled off the gloves and tossed them in the trash as he left the examination room. Adam Wu, who led the team of doctors who specialized in soft tissue surgeries, was walking toward him.

“How’s the first official day on the job?” Adam asked.

“I have a six-month-old German shepherd who swallowed an extremely valuable Hot Wheels car. It’s lodged right there in the duodenum.”

He nodded. “Sounds about right. A simple splenectomy would have been too routine for a surgeon of your caliber.”

“I’m sure that’s coming through the doors next,” Bryson said.

Rocket’s owner had been joined by his girlfriend by the time Bryson met with them in one of the six patient consult rooms at the hospital. Three hours later, he was back in the consult room, handing the man his freshly washed die-cast Camaro.

To Bryson’s relief and pleasure, Justin Lewis wasn’t nearly as concerned about the collectible toy car as he was about the puppy he had not even known two months ago. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly a pet became the center of a family’s life.

He went over the next steps in the recovery sequence, explaining that Rocket would remain at the hospital for at least one more day for post-surgery monitoring before being released.

“You’ll be given care instructions when you come to pick him up tomorrow. You’ll have to watch him because he’s an active one.”

Justin threw his arms around Bryson while his girlfriend continued to wipe tears of relief from her eyes. Bryson accepted a more restrained hug from the girlfriend before walking them to the lobby.

Rocket’s owners had barely pulled out of the parking lot before a gorgeous American bobtail with a distended abdomen was brought in.

Bryson had handled enough cholecystectomies on ruptured gallbladders to be able to successfully pull off the operation blindfolded, but he wasn’t an arrogant asshole, so he performed the surgery with eyes wide open.

One of the techs came in to bring the cat to recovery and Bryson went out to talk to his owners. When he returned to the operating room, Chloe was setting up fresh surgical tools for the next emergency that entered the door.

“You’re getting baptized by fire on your first day,” she said as she covered the gleaming instruments with a clean cloth.

“I don’t mind,” Bryson said. “It feels good.”

And it did. This is the type of day he had envisioned during those long hours in the library when he was an undergrad.

It was hard to say no to those huge speaker fees, but if he had a choice between giving a presentation to a ballroom full of veterinary surgeons or escorting a ten-year-old to the recovery room so she could get a glimpse of the cat he’d just saved…

There was no choice.

“I’m heading out for the day, but I’m available if you need me,” Bryson told Chloe.

“What about the onboarding period? You shouldn’t be scheduled for on-call duties during your first two weeks.”

“Nah.” Bryson shook his head. “I don’t need any kind of adjustment time. Call me if necessary.”

“Hmm.” Chloe’s brows arched. “Dr. Wu said you would fit in well here. Now I understand what he meant.”

Bryson smiled to himself as he walked down the powder-blue corridor toward the rear of the hospital.

He stepped into his office first and changed into clean scrubs.

Then he walked over to the last room on the right, which served as the in-house daycare for the staff’s pets.

He found Bella curled up against a three-foot-tall teddy bear in the corner of the room.

“What are you doing there?” Bryson said, scooping her into his arms. “That thing would smother you if it fell over.”

“I had my eyes on her,” called a teenager who was trying to wrangle a shih tzu with pink bows tied around its ears.

She came over and offered a hand to Bryson. “I’m Aurora, Dr. Guidry’s daughter. I take over for Elizabeth in the afternoons. She said to tell you that Bella did great but will probably be exhausted tonight because she played with the other dogs all day.”

“You made some new friends today, Belly Welly?”

Bella licked his cheek, then turned in toward his chest and went back to sleep.

“Thanks for looking after my girl,” Bryson said to the teen. It was her mother, Dr. Jennifer Guidry, who had first sought him out. He’d met the ortho-surgeon at a symposium in Chicago last fall and later discovered that she had gone there with the sole purpose of luring Bryson back to Louisiana.

He secured Bella in her pet carrier and, after making one last sweep through the recovery wing, exited the back of the building and into the employee parking lot.

His cell started ringing with a number he recognized but couldn’t place.

Bryson climbed into his Jeep and waited for the phone to connect to the vehicle’s Bluetooth before answering.

“Hello, this is Bryson Mitchell,” he said as he strapped in Bella’s carrier.

“Hey there, Bryson. It’s Odessa.”

Ah, it was the number for The Sanctuary. That’s why it seemed familiar. He’d removed it from his contacts years ago, after scrolling past it one too many times and experiencing that pain in his chest that struck whenever he encountered something that reminded him of Evie.

He cleared his throat.

“Hey, Odessa. What’s going on?” Bryson asked as he backed out of his designated parking spot. When he’d pulled in this morning, the first thing he did was snap a pic of the metal sign with his name on it and send it to his brothers and nephews. He was back home to stay. The sign made it official.

“I’m calling on behalf of Dr. Landry. He needs to talk to you. Today,” Odessa emphasized.

Bryson slammed on his brakes.

“What’s wrong? Is Doc sick?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. Just… can you come to The Sanctuary?”

Bryson pulled back into his parking spot and brought up the calendar on his phone. He had a call with an old colleague from the team at Tuskegee scheduled for six, but he could push that to Wednesday.

Still, why would Doc want to meet with him when they’d just gotten together for lunch a few days ago? And why did he want to meet in person? Couldn’t he just call?

“Bryson, you still there?” Odessa asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that,” Bryson said. He put the car in reverse again and slowly backed out. “Tell Doc I’ll be right over.”

“He also asked if you could stop over at Maple Street Animal Clinic and see if Evie is available to join you. It’s on your way.”

He slammed on the brakes again.

“He’s tried calling her cell phone, but it’s going directly to voicemail,” Odessa continued. “I tried calling the clinic, but they must be busy there today. I was put on hold twice. What Doc wants to discuss concerns you both, so it would be better if you’re both here.”

Doc wanted to see both him and Evie? Together?

What in the hell had he done to piss off the universe?

It’s not that he wanted to avoid Evie forever, but he needed more time. He had to mentally prepare himself before sharing space again with the one person who had affected him more than any other woman. The one who’d gotten away.

The one you let get away. The one you pushed away when you ran like a coward. The one you practically handed over to Cameron Broussard.

Fuck his brain right now.

“Bryson?” Odessa said.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m leaving the animal hospital right now,” Bryson said. “I’ll head straight to Evie’s clinic.”

He ended the call with Odessa and looked over at his dog. “This is going to suck so fucking bad, Bells.”

Bella yipped.