“Annie, this is my husband, Zach.” Dusty leaned forward to brush her lips across his mouth. “This is the new vet in town, Dr. Annie DeSimone.”
Annie couldn’t help staring. Dusty’s husband had male model looks, but two different colored eyes. One dark brown, one light blue, like Sean’s. Broad shoulders, lean hips, muscular build. If this is what the McCray men looked like…
“Nice to meet you.” Zach held out his hand and Annie shook it politely. “Oh, there you are.” He turned his head as another man walked in.
“Sorry, had to stop in the kitchen to wash my hands and face,” the man said.
“This is my brother Dallas,” Zach said. “Dallas, meet Dr. DeSimone.”
Annie looked up into the face of the most amazing man she had ever seen. Beautiful. Rugged. Dashing. He resembled Zach, but in a less refined way. He was a little taller, at least six-feet-three. His brown eyes were the color of strong coffee, and his face was perfectly shaped, except for a slight crook in his nose where it must have been broken once. The slight flaw in otherwise perfect features was not only endearing, it was sexy as hell. Unlike Zach’s closely trimmed goatee, Dallas had several days’ growth of beard covering his chiseled jawline, surrounding full pink lips, which were parted slightly. Annie warmed and tried not to wonder what they might feel like brushing against her own.
Moisture at the hairline rimmed his wavy black locks, forcing it into unruly curls that just touched his collar. Streaks of silver highlights graced his temples. Annie’s skin tightened. Since when was gray hair sexy?
Since right now.
“Nice to meet you, Doc,” Dallas said, holding out his hand.
“It’s Annie,” she said.
His skin was warm as his fingers tightened around hers. Big, strong hands. Capable hands. Annie loved hands. If a man didn’t have good hands, she wasn’t interested.
Dallas McCray had great hands.
“That’s a unique accent,” Dallas said. “Where are you from?”
“New Jersey.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Outside Atlantic City.”
“Yeah? What brings you here?” Zach asked.
“Just a change of scenery,” Annie said, hoping they wouldn’t press the issue. She wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She turned to Dusty. “I think I’ll take that wine now.”
“Sure.” Dusty moved toward the oak bar in the corner of the room. “What do you two want?” she asked Zach and Dallas.
“Like you have to ask, darlin’,” Zach said.
“Wild Turkey, I know.” Dusty smiled at her husband. “What about you, Dallas? No, don’t tell me. Macallan neat.”
“You’re a woman after my own heart, Dusty,” Dallas said, winking.
The fine hair on Annie’s arms straightened. Silly. Why should Dallas’s words bother her? Or his harmless wink? She had just met the man.
She took the wine Dusty handed her. Cheers, she said to herself, and tipped the glass to her lips. Chianti. A good Chianti. Although she couldn’t afford the good stuff, Annie knew her Italian wine. Her mother had taught her well.
“Where’s the critter?” Dallas asked.
“Mona took him upstairs to settle down before dinner,” Dusty said. “He’s exhausted. I dragged him on my errands all day, and then, when we finally got back here, we had to go back into town with Nigel. That’s how Annie and I met.” Dusty explained the cat’s constipation, and soon they were all in hysterics.
“Do you see a lot of constipated cats, Doc?” Dallas asked.
“Can’t say that I do,” Annie replied, shifting her gaze from the adorable crinkling of Dallas’s eyes. “I told Dusty to keep him outside as much as possible the next few days. Trust me, you don’t want to be cleaning up after him.”
“Sounds like good advice,” Dallas said quietly.
Annie looked up and found his gaze locked onto her breasts. She squirmed and drained her glass of wine.
“Dinner’s ready, Miss Dusty.”
Annie looked up to see a rotund older woman standing in the doorway.