Page 32 of Hogging the Hunk
I had to approach Ellie’s revelation with the same caution I’d been using her whole visit. There’d be a chance she’d forgive me if she understood where I was coming from. There’d be less of a margin of error if she perceived my words as slighting her father.
“Is that what you think?” I spoke calmly, not unlike the way a person ought to talk to a bull to convince the beast not to trample them.
“I know it.” Ellie swiped the bandages I’d scooted to her side of the examination table and hastily stood. “Grownups aren’t the only ones who are observant, you know. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
My mouth flopped open and shut. I was a river trout yanked from the water, lying helpless on the rocks of the shore. So close to the life-giving water, yet helpless to get there on my own.
Ellie finished for the both of us. “I already told him that he’s not allowed to fall in love with anyone. I don’t need a stepmom, and the last thing my dad needs is a broken heart.”
Quick as a mouse who was spotted in the barn by Slo Jo, Ellie jumped up and ran to the door, scampering down the steps. Pausing only briefly, holding the door while I was stunned into silence, she added, “And if you do break my dad’s heart, I’ll never forgive you.”
Chapter Nine
Milo
“Reckon we might have rain,” Bonita said from her seat at the receptionist’s desk without looking out the glass doors where I stood. The broody, gray, swirling clouds were putting on a show. It made for a graceful change of scenery while I waited for my last client of the day. “We could sure use it. All the other rain we were promised barely spit on us.”
I smirked at my receptionist, whose eyes continued to be fixed on her paperwork. “You didn’t even look outside. How do you know if it’ll rain?”
Bonita shrugged. “I can feel impending rain in these old bones. Call it a superpower if you want.”
I let out a small chuckle and tucked my hands into my pockets as a few smatters of rain struck the glass. I wasn’t watching for the rain that would satiate the thirsty ground, though. My focus was on Beckett’s mobile medical RV, parked directly across the street. She was there every Tuesday and Thursday, faithfully serving the community with her pediatric skills and impeccable bedside manner. I’d personally witnessed her in action, and after Ellie sliced her hand a few weeks ago and I sent her over to Beckett, I’d asked Ellie how her visit to Dr. Kent had gone. Ellie mumbled it was fine, which I could only assume in preteen speak meant Beckett had been exemplary.
A gust of wind coursed through Button Blossom, rattling the dry leaves on the trees and knocking over the A-frame sign set out by Beckett’s mobile office. It was tempting to run across the street to set it back up for her. As a kindness. That would be the neighborly thing to do.
You just want a reason to see her again.
Sometimes, I would love to lock the voice residing in my head in a closet to have a break from him. Just for a day or two. He was always too extreme—too sarcastic, too critical, too honest… too correct.
“Your windows up in the truck?” Bonita asked, ignoring Aspen, our clinic cat, swiping clumsily at Bonita’s moving hand. Born with cerebellar hypoplasia, Aspen’s fumbling attempts at hunting even easy targets was laughable.
“Yep.”
“You need to go pick up Ellie from school so she doesn’t have to walk here in the rain?”
“She’s going to a friend’s house for dinner today. Molly Pinker’s.”
“Good. That girl needs some positive family experiences.”
That comment prompted a quarter-turn toward Bonita. “You think I’m not doing a good job with her?”
“That’s not what I said.” Bonita licked her finger and flipped over a page, scribbling something on it before she shut the file and moved to the next. “She’s had a hard start to life and an unconventional arrival here in Button Blossom. It’ll be good for her to get a glimpse of how other kids grow up. What it’s like to have siblings, for one, because the Pinkers have a handful of children.”
“They’re all younger than Molly,” I grunted. “And boys. Maybe Ellie will be annoyed by them.”
“There you go. A regular and important experience.” For the first time, Bonita looked up at me over the rims of her glasses. “To be clear, I think you’re an excellent father.”
Maybe now. I wasn’t always. The thought sunk a dagger of regret straight into the recesses of my heart.
“A mother is something else that would be good for your daughter.”
I knew the day I hired Bonita that she was blunt. It was one attribute I appreciated about her, especially in the veterinarian world, where clients could be overbearing. In this instance, Bonita was forward, and, I could admit, wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t taking me into account. Ellie might benefit from a mother. However, I wasn’t sure I would be a suitable husband. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting anyone ever again, and I’d already done my fair share of wounding those I should have loved.
I shifted my gaze back out the door. The rain had picked up and the gray gloom of the clouds became all-consuming. Without Bonita in my head, I allowed myself to consider Beckett. Completely theoretically. All the emotions surrounding her were so complex, yet thrilling, that I couldn’t possibly make sense of them. And who knew if she reciprocated any of the positive feelings for me. There were so many reasons that might prevent us from being compatible—the eight years I had on her, my status as a single father, my tendency to behave as an unpredictable grenade that would eventually explode, hurting everyone around me. It didn’t seem worth it to even contemplate what life might be like with Beckett more central to my existence.
Fairy tales with dragons and magical quests were more likely to happen in real life than for Beckett and I to find a happily-ever-after.
“Are you thinking about a certain vagabond pediatrician across the way?” Bonita had stopped and was outright staring now. She’d fractured my shell with one question, like she was wielding a nutcracker.