“It wasn’t a big thing, all right? Nothing bad happened.”
Except that he’d left feeling humiliated and frustrated as hell. He’d been more than a little tempted to step into one of the bars that he’d passed on his way home. He couldn’t stop thinking about how many gigs like that one he’d h
ave to pull off to get anywhere close to buying a food truck. He’d ended up taking a turn onto a quiet street, one block away from the hopping nightlife and the neighborhood where he’d once owned a restaurant, trying to talk himself out of having a drink and saying fuck it all. He’d been losing the argument.
Then he’d heard the dog.
“Wesley, you need—”
“How is he?” The worried feminine voice came from behind Wes, saving him from another lecture he didn’t need or want to hear. He’d heard more than enough about setting yourself up for success (Ed) and not returning to enabling or high-stress environments (Marco) and staying away from temptation (Carolina) to last him a damn lifetime.
He’d like to shout that he wasn’t that weak and could handle it. But tonight, he’d be lying because he’d felt that thirsting beast pushing at the door of his willpower. Maybe the dog had saved more than one person tonight.
Wes turned. The redhead, whose name he hadn’t managed to get yet, had pushed through the swinging door that led to the front office. This was the first time he’d seen her in the full light. Her clothes were stained with dried blood, her gray pants were ripped at one knee, and her elbows were bandaged. But she’d washed her face clean of her streaked makeup and had pulled her hair back. Her blue eyes looked wide, concerned…and vaguely familiar.
Wes frowned.
“The bullet hit his leg,” Marco said from behind him. “I think he’ll be okay. I’m going to patch him up and keep him here for observation.”
“The leg.” A strange look crossed the woman’s face. “That’s…good news.”
Wes couldn’t stop staring at her. She was easy to look at, pretty in a girl-next-door way with faint freckles across her nose, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, which didn’t make sense. The circles he ran in now were small and limited to teachers and restaurant people. This woman had high-powered executive written all over her.
“Wes,” Marco said. “Why don’t you show…”
“Rebecca,” the woman filled in.
“Rebecca to the back room. I have extra sets of staff scrubs in there. She can change into some clean clothes.”
Rebecca. Rebecca. Rebecca. The name wasn’t ringing any bells.
Finally, she turned, as if just noticing Wes was there, too. She stepped forward and put her hand out formally. “Thank you for intervening. A lot of people wouldn’t have jumped in and tried to help like that.”
He took her hand, surprised by the firm shake but liking the up-close view of her. Pale lashes, a full bottom lip, and bright-blue, serious eyes. “Not a problem.”
Her gaze skimmed over him, and then she met his stare, holding the eye contact for longer than was polite. Awareness filtered through him as the hint of a blush appeared beneath her fair skin. Well, then. She was checking him out right back.
And unlike the women ogling him earlier in the night, this attention hit him square and twisted something old and rusty inside him. He liked her looking at him that way, which was an odd, almost outside-himself feeling. But there was something stripped down and honest about the way she stared, like it’d caught her off guard and she wasn’t sure how to act.
“If you want to get changed, I can drive you home,” he said, his voice coming out gruffer than he’d intended. “Unless you have someone picking you up?”
She let go of his hand quickly, like she realized she’d held on to it a fraction too long. “I haven’t called anyone yet. They stole my phone, and I don’t have the numbers memorized.”
“I don’t mind giving you a ride.” He glanced at his brother. “I’m sure Marco will work quicker without us in here staring at him.”
“The van keys are on the desk,” Marco offered. “I’m all good here. Rebecca, you can call tomorrow and check on our patient if you’d like. We’re under Garrett Veterinary online if you need the number, or you can grab a card from the front counter.”
Her attention jerked to Marco. “Garrett?”
“Yep.”
She stepped back, her gaze darting to Wes. All interest that had been there was gone, as if he’d only imagined it. It was like a bucket of ice water dumping over his head. “I appreciate the offer, but if you let me know where the scrubs are, I can change and call a cab. It’s late. There’s no need to have to double back to return the van.” She glanced at Marco. “And thank you so much for doing this. I’ll definitely call tomorrow to check on him. Whatever the treatment costs, I’ll pay.”
Marco waved her off. “No payment needed. I work a few charity cases into the budget every year.”
She gave Marco a smile with genuine warmth, and Wes found himself disappointed that she was no longer directing that kind of energy his way. Had something happened? He’d barely talked, so he couldn’t have offended her. He wasn’t quite that skilled at chasing people off.
He cleared his throat, trying to shake the feeling. What did it matter what she thought of him? It wasn’t like he was in the market to ask someone out. He didn’t do that anymore. “It’s really not a problem to drive you. You’ll be waiting forever for a cab in this part of town. Plus, they took your purse. How are you going to pay for the cab?”