Then Came You Read online

  mouth open. He stood up to see what she was looking at.

  AJ was in the yard with Zoe, who’d managed to finagle him into helping her plant some shrubs along the front of the property. She’d done this by promising him all he could eat pizza, and that Darcy wouldn’t be here.

  But Darcy had decided not to go out for once, so Zoe had made her swear to stay out of sight.

  “What are you doing?” Wyatt asked Darcy suspiciously.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.” She was always doing something, even when she wasn’t moving. In fact, he’d learned that’s when she was the most dangerous. “You’re staring at AJ like he’s dinner.”

  She slid him a look, and he grimaced. “Oh Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “No, it’s no good, I can’t unsee that image.”

  “Oh shut up,” she said. “You’re getting lucky, as it turns out, so you don’t get to judge.”

  “But it’s AJ.” Wyatt loved the guy, but AJ had made a career out of women. He loved women, all of them. The thought made Wyatt grimace again. “We’re not going to talk about this.”

  “Do you know how many months it’s been since I had a social orgasm?” Darcy asked.

  “Shit, Darcy.”

  “You know what? Forget it.” She kicked the wrench his way and snatched her walker.

  He caught the back of her sweater. “I just don’t want you to risk getting hurt.”

  Her face, when she turned to him, had softened, and she nudged him. “Well where’s the fun in no risk?” she murmured.

  * * *

  The next day at work, Emily got an unintentional reprieve from having to face Wyatt when he was once again called up north with Brady and Adam, working some of Dell’s ranching clients.

  She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. Maybe they did need to discuss, so that they both knew exactly where they stood.

  And yeah, okay, there was some truth to what Sara had announced to the free world. Emily had let pieces of herself go. She was working on that, but the truth was, she wasn’t all together. How else to explain why she was beginning to fall for this small town of Sunshine, which was literally the opposite of everything she thought she wanted?

  And then there were the people in it, and the connections she’d made, like Dell, Adam, Lilah, Jade.

  Wyatt . . .

  She had no idea what she thought she was doing there, with him, no idea at all. And yet the thought of not having him in her life every day actually hurt.

  What did that mean?

  She had to give up thinking. She fed Q-Tip and Sammy, and grabbed the ice cream from the freezer, along with a microwaved bag of popcorn and her laptop. She sat on the couch to watch a Say Yes to the Dress marathon, finding it reassuring to know that other people’s lives were more out of control than hers. Half an hour later, she’d checked on her auction bid on Wyatt to verify she was still on top.

  She was.

  Then she looked at the empty ice cream carton in her lap—Double Fudge—and the empty bowl of popcorn.

  She didn’t need a pity party—she needed an overeater’s anonymous meeting.

  When her phone rang, she frowned at the number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

  “Dr. Emily Stevens,” said a velvety male voice when she answered. “It’s Evan. Need another hit of chocolate chip cookies?”

  Cute cop guy who made great cookies. She looked down at the empty ice cream carton. “Not right now, thank you. I’m on a dessert moratorium.”

  He chuckled low in his throat. “You’re a hard woman to get a hold of.”

  He was referring to the three messages he’d left for her at Belle Haven. She winced and pushed Q-Tip off her lap. “I’m sorry. It’s not a good policy to date a patient.”

  “So it’s a good thing I’m not patient. I was hoping to take you riding on Saturday. You free?”

  Her brain scrambled. He really was a very handsome man, and maybe under some other circumstances she’d be interested, but she had Wyatt. At least for right now she had Wyatt, and he was more than enough man for her.

  Truth was, he was almost too much man for her.

  And then there was the bigger truth, the one she wasn’t ready to think about, much less admit—she had zero desire to be with anyone else but him. “I’m sorry, Evan. But I can’t.”

  He was quiet a moment. “I understand. Good night, Emily.”

  She disconnected, remoted the TV off and looked over at Q-Tip.

  The cat was watching her.

  “I know,” she said. “You’re thinking I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Q-Tip just stared. She turned to the aquarium on the coffee table, where Sammy now resided.

  It was raining again, and she’d been worried about him. As much as she knew about animals, she had no idea if his type of turtle could swim.

  He hadn’t objected to his new home in the least. In fact, she kind of thought he liked it.

  He was watching her, too, making her realize that she was Q-Tip’s and Sammy’s reality show.

  Perfect.

  “Okay,” she admitted to the room. “So I don’t have any idea what I’m doing.” She thought of Wyatt, and how he’d reacted to Sara’s tirade.

  He’d given her a long, thoughtful gaze.

  No obvious sympathy, which was good. But he hadn’t given her anything. Some reaction might’ve been nice.

  You could have returned his text, she told herself. She had a feeling she’d have learned his reaction by now if she had.

  That’s when she heard it. Through the sound of the steady rain hitting the roof and the wind beating at the windows, she heard the animal crying again.

  The haunting sound went right through her. “Dammit.” She grabbed a flashlight, shoved her feet into sneakers, and went outside. Standing on the porch, she cocked an ear and listened.

  The cry came again, filled with pain and fear, raising every hair on her body.

  Not willing to be the stupid chick in the horror flick, she got into her car, driving slowly with the windows down, getting drenched as she followed the haunting noise.

  She came to her neighbor’s ranch. The house was dark. There were no other places around here, so she remained still, chewing on her lower lip.

  Get out of the car and walk around?

  No. That was definitely the stupid chick in the horror flick.

  Then she heard the sound again, clearer now. Definitely a dog. A dog in trouble.

  And close.

  Crap. She threw the car in park and got out into the rain, her sneakers making a squishy sound as she ran toward the sound until she found the dog huddled in a ball of misery just off the road, in a clearing between two trees.

  She paused a few feet away and used her flashlight.

  Definitely a dog, a young one, male, but hard to tell what breed in these conditions. “Oh you poor baby,” she breathed, crouching at his side.

  He lifted his head and . . . licked her hand.

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. He was bleeding from multiple open wounds, attacked by a coyote? She let him sniff her hand a minute, during which she tried to see if he was in shock. Hard to tell in the dark without a stethoscope to check his heart rate, but the weakness wasn’t a good sign. Cautiously she checked his limbs.

  Nothing obviously broken. She ran back to her car, to the trunk, and yanked out her emergency kit. Returning, she wrapped the Mylar emergency blanket around the dog. Then scooping him into her arms, she brought him to her car, setting him carefully onto the passenger’s seat.

  By this time, she was shivering herself, and breathless. She slid behind the wheel. “You’re okay,” she whispered to her patient. “Well, you’re not really, but you’re going to be okay.” Reaching out, she carefully crossed the seatbelt over him the best she could. “There,” she said and hit the gas.

  * * *

  Wyatt sat hunched over his desk at Belle Haven, typing up the patient files he’d put off all damn week.