Page 18 of Pugs & Kisses

E ven though Evie walked at least three feet behind him, Bryson could feel her nearness on his skin.

It pressed against him like a physical weight—a reminder that she was within touching distance.

It had been well over a week since he’d returned to Louisiana and he still had not fully grasped the fact that he was close enough to Evie Williams to touch her.

It defied comprehension that she could still have this kind of effect on him after all this time.

It wasn’t as if he’d spent the past eight years pining for her.

Maybe that first year—he could admit to obsessing over what he’d walked away from and the relationship they could have had if he’d stayed and fought for her.

But he had gotten over Evie. He had made sure of it.

He’d dated more than his share of women, both casual and serious relationships. He had come close to getting engaged. Hell, he had nearly become a father. If not for an early pregnancy miscarriage, there would be a little Bryson Junior running around.

Yet, of all the women he’d dated since the last time he saw Evie, none had made his heart bounce against his rib cage the way it did at this moment.

Maybe when he had more time he could find a quiet place to sit and contemplate just what in the hell it was about Evie that had caught hold of him and would not let him go, even after all these years.

They reached his office and Bryson motioned for her to go in ahead of him.

She entered and began a slow perusal, examining the Andy Warhol–inspired portraits of Bella he’d hung on the walls, along with his framed degrees.

They were copies. The originals hung in their place of honor at his parents’ house in Houma, ninety minutes southwest of New Orleans.

Evie slowly turned, her attention traveling from the ultramodern adjustable standing desk to the equally modern light fixtures above.

“So, this is how the specialties live,” she said, a trace of envy coloring her voice. “Must be nice.”

Was she actually going there?

“Really, Evie?” Bryson asked. “You sure you want to talk about how the other half lives?”

She spun around and stared at him with raised brows. “What?”

“Do you remember back when we were at The Sanctuary and your car wouldn’t start? I brought you to that behemoth of a house you lived in.”

Pulling his fifteen-year-old Nissan Altima into that circular driveway had been the beginning of the end of whatever he’d hoped to have with Evie. Bryson had known from that very moment that he would never fit into her world.

“That’s my parents’ home, not mine,” Evie said. “I live in a humble little house once owned by my grandmother.” She walked over to the lone chair across from his desk and sat. “It’s a cute house, but not a mansion by any stretch of the imagination.”

“Well, I’m in a short-term rental with the most uncomfortable bed known to man, if you want to know how the specialties really live.”

She tilted her head to the side, her brow lifting again in inquiry.

“How short-term is that rental?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you planning to rent something more permanent, or are you still trying to decide if you’re going to stay?”

Well, damn. He was quite the open book, wasn’t he? But he was no longer vacillating between staying in New Orleans or returning to Raleigh.

“I’m home,” Bryson said. “At least for the foreseeable future. In fact, my Realtor may have found me a condo. She sent a virtual tour, but I plan to visit before I make an offer.”

“You’re buying?” Her voice rose in surprise.

“Specialties,” he said; then he winked. “It’s how we roll.”

Evie burst out laughing and every muscle in his body grew tight.

It was that lyrical laugh he remembered.

The laugh he’d become instantly addicted to the first time he’d heard it.

He’d spent an entire summer chasing after that laugh, behaving like a lab rat repeatedly pulling a lever for another hit of dopamine.

He’d been willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to hear that sound again and again and again.

Don’t turn into a lab rat.

Bryson leaned forward in his chair and set both elbows on the desk.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m joking. There’s nothing inherently special about the ‘specialties.’”

“No, no, no,” Evie said. She held her hands up. “Don’t downplay your success on my account. You worked for it.”

“You helped. I honed a lot of those skills trying to show off for you that summer.”

“Show off for me, or for Doc?”

“Definitely for you,” Bryson said.

She looked away but couldn’t hide the twin, dusty rose spots that blossomed on her light brown cheeks. His chest tightened at the sight. Exquisite. She had always been the most beautiful, most alluring being he’d ever encountered. It was nice to know some things never changed.

“That was a long time ago,” Evie said. She shifted in her chair. Crossed her legs, then recrossed them.

Shit. He’d made her uncomfortable.

Maybe if he could find a way to not fucking flirt with her within ten minutes of having her in his office, she wouldn’t be sitting there looking like she wanted to bail.

“Of course, the competition between me and Derrick played just as big of a part,” Bryson said. “Like a couple of know-it-all assholes, we were always trying to show each other up.”

She laughed, and some of the tension in the room began to dissipate. “Neither of you were know-it-alls,” she said. “And, in the end, the animals at The Sanctuary benefited, so no harm done.”

She sat back in her chair, appearing more at ease. A small smile tilted up the corners of her gorgeous lips as she rested her folded hands in her lap.

“All joking aside, I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished, Bryson,” she said. It was the sincerity in her voice that caused his breath to hitch.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Thank you,” he answered. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced down at her folded hands, then back at him. “I’m not surprised at what you’ve accomplished,” she added. “And it’s nice to see that you not only lived up to those ridiculously high expectations you set for yourself, but also surpassed them.”

“You’re the one who thought my expectations were high,” he said. “I don’t think they were high enough.”

“Are you kidding me?” Her hands shot in the air before falling back into her lap. “You are one of the most highly regarded veterinary surgeons in your field. What more can you want?”

Bryson made a show of looking around the office. “Do you see a Leo K. Bustad Veterinarian of the Year Award anywhere?”

Evie rolled her eyes. “You really are ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous. Just a high achiever,” Bryson said with a grin.

“It’s a carryover from my days on the basketball team.

Coach used to tell us after every win that winning wasn’t enough.

We should strive for annihilation.” He cocked his head to the side.

“Now that I think about it, some of the shit Coach said to motivate us was messed up.”

“Uh, yeah. I’d say so.” Evie laughed again.

It was like another dopamine shot, straight to his fucking brain. He craved that laugh the way he craved air.

As much as he tried to stave it off, it was impossible not to get drawn in by her, or the ease in which they’d fallen back into the banter they once shared. She had always been so damn easy to talk to. And to look at. And to kiss.

She stared at him from the other side of the desk, a subtle hint of amusement still lifting the corner of her mouth and shimmering in her eyes.

The four feet separating them was both too much space and not enough.

He had to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to rise from his chair, lean over the desk, and close the distance separating them.

And you thought your flirting made her uncomfortable?

Just because she looked at him with something other than derision—just because she and Cameron were no longer together—didn’t mean she would welcome any kind of advances from him.

They were different people from who they had been eight years ago, when they were still a couple of veterinary students who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

If he was lucky, he would get the chance to know the person Evie had become over the past decade.

She was the first to break eye contact. She sat up straight and tucked a lock of her curly, natural hair behind her ear.

“Back to the reason I came to see you,” Evie said.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Bryson replied, clearing his throat again.

“I’ve been thinking about what Doc told us the other day regarding the rescue. I—we—can’t allow The Sanctuary to go down without a fight.”

“We?”

“Yes, we,” Evie said. “I mean, if you’re up for it.”

“What exactly are you thinking we should do?”

“Well, that’s what we need to figure out. Something in my gut is telling me that Doc isn’t giving us the full story, but I’m not sure that matters. Nothing will change the fact that The Sanctuary is worth saving.”

“I agree,” Bryson said.

She let out a relieved breath, her smile returning. “Good,” she said. “I didn’t think I would have to twist your arm, but I was prepared to do so if necessary.”

Bryson clamped down on the quip he nearly made about her getting physical with him, because what the fuck? He could not say shit like that to her.

It was the lighthearted back-and-forth; it made it feel like old times.

It is not old times , he reminded himself. He would repeat those words until they took hold.

“I was hoping that we could maybe brainstorm some ideas on how to save the rescue,” Evie was saying. “I’ve already jotted down potential fundraisers. Did you know The Sanctuary still has that old WordPress blog as its official website?”

“The one you set up during your downtime that summer?”

She nodded. “It is so inadequate. There’s nothing about how to adopt an animal, or a place for people to donate.

It’s one of a number of things that needs to be addressed.

” She held up her hands. “I’m not saying a new website will automatically save the rescue, but we have to start somewhere. That is, if you plan to join me.”

“I’m in,” Bryson said. “Of course I am.”

Sure, he had a thousand things on his plate, but in what world could he say no to Evie? He’d made that mistake once. And paid for it.

“Doc is going to be so relieved,” he said. He picked up his cell phone. “I’ll call him and let him know what’s going on?”

“Not yet.” Evie reached across the desk and covered his hand.

Bryson stilled. The impulse to lift her hand to his mouth and press a kiss to it nearly overwhelmed him. No, the inside of her wrist. He wanted to brush a kiss over the delicate skin there, to feel the pulse point beating against his lips.

Stop it!

Evie pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair, oblivious to the chaos she’d wreaked within him. He was in fucking shambles from a simple touch.

“There’s something we need to discuss first,” she said.

“Okay,” Bryson said, his blood chilling at the seriousness in her tone. The tension in the room had increased tenfold in a matter of seconds.

“If we’re going to work together on this effort to save The Sanctuary, I can’t spend the entire time feeling as if I’m going to jump out of my skin whenever we’re in the same room.”

His brows spiked. “Is that how you’ve been feeling around me?”

“You know things have been awkward, Bryson,” she said.

“It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, Ev. Things are bound to be awkward.”

Especially after the way things ended between them.

“Time has nothing to do with it,” she said. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think the easiest way to go about this is to leave the past in the past.”

Bryson jerked his head back. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.

He’d spent so many hours contemplating just how to explain his actions from eight years ago to Evie, if ever given the chance. The one thing he had never contemplated was for her to not want to hear an explanation.

“This doesn’t have to be weird or uncomfortable if we make a decision right now that it won’t be,” Evie continued. “Our focus should be on saving The Sanctuary, not on our feelings.”

Bryson rested his fingers against his lips.

Could they simply close the door on that part of their past and just move on? Pretend none of it happened?

Did he want that?

If they ignored the bad way it ended, that meant they had to ignore the good parts too. He wasn’t sure he was onboard with that.

Evie glanced down at her phone.

“I need to get going. Waffles isn’t officially on the roster at Barkingham Palace yet, and I need pick him up before the afternoon clients get there.” She looked at him. “Are we good here?”

Bryson nodded. “Go pick up your dog.”

He started to stand when she did, but she held up her hand. “Don’t. I’m fine. I can see myself out. Why don’t you call Doc and let him know what we discussed.”

“I can do that,” he said.

She graced him with one of those smiles he could easily lose himself in before she said, “Thanks for not making this too difficult. I’ll be in touch.”

Bryson waited until she closed the door before settling back against the headrest and closing his eyes tight.

Had he just agreed to ignore that, at one point, he had been completely in love with Evie?

Leave the past in the past.

Bryson blew out an agonized breath.

“Good fucking luck with that.”

How was one to prepare themselves for weeks of the sweetest torture imaginable? He had a feeling he was about to find out.