Page 25 of The Quirky Vet

"So, how are things?" I ask.

"Yeah, good."

"How's Sid?"

"Gramps is fine."

"Work today?"

"Busy."

"What's wrong?"

His mouth opens but no words come out. I don't say anything either, giving him some time to formulate a response.

Eventually, he says, "Don't suppose I'll get away with sayingNothing, everything's fine?"

"That's right. You won't. What is it, mate? What's bothering you? Tell me. Please."

He shifts on the bench, looking sheepish and uncomfortable. He avoids eye contact—because of course he does—then quietly mutters, "I don't know how to say this."

"Take your time. There's no rush."

"You have to promise not to freak out."

"Done. No freak-outs. Guaranteed."

He looks up and forces a small smile. He sighs once, then a few more times. "I'm okay with us being married."

I tilt my head, trying to make sense of what he just said, but I'm missing too many dots. "I'm going to need more."

"Ishouldn'tbe okay with it. But I am. Which makes menotokay."

I huff out a breath. Fuck. And I thought women were complicated. "I don't understand, Muir. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying"—he turns to look at me—"that I'm weirdly okay with being married to you. I'm sure you're wanting to get annulled or divorced or do whatever it takes to end this?—"

"That's not true," I interrupt. "I've been chasing down my lawyer because I figured since it's most likely my fault we're in this predicament, I should be the one to get us out of it. I've seen how you've been these past few days, and I thought that's what you wanted as well."

He shakes his head. "It's not."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

So he's not freaking out that we've wound up married, but the fact that he's not freaking out about it is freaking him out. Have I got that right?

"I'm going to need something more."

He tips his head up towards the dusky orange sky and lets out an almighty sigh. "Is your barometer still set to non-freak-out mode?"

"Let me check." I pause. "Yep. I'm all good."

He lowers his head and aims those intense blue eyes right at me. He visibly swallows, then says, "I think I might have feelings for you."

"What sort of feelings?"

He sighs. "You know,more than friendfeelings."