Brought Together by a Pup, page 1
Axel was on his feet, tail wagging as he barked.
Turning to look at Willow, Carter felt his chest tighten.
Her eyes were alight with pleasure and she wore a beautiful smile as she gazed at Axel. She did adore dogs. Or this one anyway. “Hello, fella. How’re you doing?” She bent down to pat the pup as he pushed up against her, his nose pressed into her thigh.
They looked as though they’d always known each other, as if they belonged together. “You’re a perfect match,” Carter said through the sudden yearning to be a part of the picture.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Nope.” That was a lie. He’d given up on a lot of things the day Cassandra turned her back on him.
“What do you think, Axel?” Willow was running her hand down the pup’s back, and the way Axel arched into her touch said he was more than happy to spend more time with her.
“Do you really have to ask?” Carter concentrated on the here and now. Which included Willow Taylor. Something about her tweaked his interest...
Dear Reader,
They say that opposites attract and vet Carter and vet nurse Willow could not be more opposite if they tried. Except for one thing. Their pasts are painful and keeping them from diving into a new and exciting relationship.
They want each other, but Willow never stops long anywhere, and Carter is not leaving the Gold Coast to follow her. He’s settled there, while she doesn’t look like she’s settling any time soon, if at all.
Follow these two as they overcome their fears and accept their love for each other. It’s not easy, but nothing this important ever is.
I loved writing a story set on the Gold Coast of Australia, where it’s warm and the beaches amazing, the people so friendly. I hope you enjoy a glimpse into this lifestyle.
Cheers,
Sue MacKay
www.SueMacKay.co.nz
suemackayauthor@mail.com
Brought Together by a Pup
Sue MacKay
Sue MacKay lives with her husband in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough Sounds, with the water on her doorstep and the birds and the trees at her back door. It is the perfect setting to indulge her passions of entertaining friends by cooking them sumptuous meals, drinking fabulous wine, going for hill walks or kayaking around the bay—and, of course, writing stories.
Books by Sue MacKay
Harlequin Medical Romance
Queenstown Search & Rescue
Captivated by Her Runaway Doc
A Single Dad to Rescue Her
From Best Friend to I Do?
The Nurse’s Secret
The GP’s Secret Baby Wish
Their Second Chance in ER
Fling with Her Long-Lost Surgeon
Stranded with the Paramedic
Single Mom’s New Year Wish
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Praise for Sue MacKay
“Overall, Ms. Mackay has delivered a really good read in this book where the chemistry between this couple was strong; the romance was delightful and had me loving how these two come together.”
—Harlequin Junkie on The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
EXCERPT FROM FINDING THEIR FOREVER FAMILY BY CAROLINE ANDERSON
CHAPTER ONE
‘WILLOW, I’VE PUT you down as my partner for the wedding.’
The overly confident voice of her friend’s brother filled the car.
Couldn’t be.
Willow checked the screen of her phone. She’d stopped for a coffee on the way home after a weekend at Noosa in anticipation of Pip’s wedding. Now this.
Definitely Dr Dave Greenslade calling. She shuddered. The last man she wanted anything to do with. This side of her ninetieth birthday anyway. She’d heard stories from one of the bridesmaids about his wandering hands. He hadn’t asked her to be his partner, just told her, as though she should be grateful he’d take her since she had a disability. Arrogance personified was Dave. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t accepting his plan.
She still had to sit at the same table on the day, so she’d better play a little bit nice, for Pip’s sake. ‘Thanks, but I don’t need a partner.’ Not him anyway. His attitude of ‘I’m so important’ had rubbed her up the wrong way the few times she’d seen him.
‘Come on. You don’t want to go on your own. You’ll look better hanging off my arm. Everyone who means anything will be there.’
Count her out, then. She wasn’t going just to be ‘noticed’. Anyway, he was exaggerating, because most of Pip’s friends were nurses at the Gold Coast Hospital, regular people. ‘Again, no thanks,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘You think you’re going to get a better offer this close to the wedding? When you don’t know many decent people on the Gold Coast and I’m offering? You can’t do better than that. Think of who I am.’ His ego wasn’t taking being turned down.
Fury began to bubble up her throat. To hell with the dirt bag. ‘I’ll look just fine.’ Walking in on her own or with her hand slipped through some man’s arm, she’d make sure of it. After this one’s smart-mouthed comments she was going to find a partner, even if she had to pay him. No one put her down. No one. ‘I’ll see you there.’
And turn my back on you when I do.
‘Looking forward to it.’ Dave sounded peeved.
‘We’ll wave as we dance past,’ she added for good measure. He’d made her mad. She’d hazard a bet that he’d come up with the idea of asking her because no one else would go with him. She smiled.
‘We? Thought you didn’t have a partner? Make up your mind, Willow. I wouldn’t have thought you’d find someone suitable so easily.’
‘Bye, Dave.’ She stabbed the off button. Stuck-up egotist who believed he was the best cardiologist in Australia. Unfortunately, rumour said he might be right. Obviously he hadn’t taken a course about learning to be compassionate. Hard to believe he grew up in the same family as Pippa. Except she might be behind that call, having occasionally hinted Willow should go out with Dave. She hadn’t been keen before; after that conversation he didn’t stand a chance.
She was seething as she pulled back out onto the road. So what if she had a prosthetic lower leg? Along with the deep scarring on her upper arm and shoulder, she wasn’t the prettiest girl on the block, but did that matter? It didn’t make her unacceptable amongst people, or hadn’t so far, any rate. Apart from the last man she’d set out to have a bit of fun with who hadn’t been able to look at her leg when she’d removed the prosthesis to have sex. His look of disgust had reiterated a big lesson she’d learned after the accident. Not to let anyone who wouldn’t take her as she was get close. They didn’t deserve the effort. She was worth a lot more than them.
She had three weeks to find a man who might not mind how she limped because no way in hell would she let Dave think he was right.
Willow, you moron. You said we, as in you’d have a partner. When there isn’t even a hint of a man in your life.
She’d taken a break from getting back into the dating game since the last mistake. She didn’t give a brass razoo about what other people thought of her false leg. It got her from A to B, made her capable of continuing in the career she adored working with animals, and kept her independent. ‘So, Greenslade, go bite yourself somewhere it hurts.’ Turning off the highway, she headed onto a secondary road.
‘Who are you going to find to go to the wedding with?’ an annoying little voice in the back of her head demanded.
There was the problem. The men she’d worked with in her last job were all in relationships, which was probably why she got on with them so well. They posed no threats to her sometimes fragile outward determination to be treated equally to everyone else. There might be someone available at the vet clinic she was starting at on Wednesday, but the chances were slim. It didn’t leave her a lot of time to suss anyone out enough. She did like to know a little about who she dated, just to be safe.
‘Whoa. Look out.’ Willow swerved to avoid a dog half standing, half sprawled at the side of the road.
Braking, she glanced in the rear-vision mirror. The animal hadn’t moved. Parking on the verge, she got out and, ignoring the stabs of pain the prosthesis sent to her knee, jogged unevenly back to the dog, which was whining pitifully. The pain-filled eyes watching her approach snagged her heart and sucked her in. A quick glance told her it was a male. Plus his feet were big for his size indicating he was a puppy, possibly about ten months old.
‘What’s up, little fella?’
He was shaking hard, as though afraid, but the vet nurse in her suspected shock to be the stronger reason—and pain. Given where he was and how his back leg was tucked underneath his belly, it was more than likely that he’d been hit by a vehicle. He needed help, and he was going to get it.
An ache she always tried to ignore began deep inside. If she stopped wandering the world she could have love, whether from a four-footed male or one with two feet firmly on the ground, either would give her a new perspective on li
Crouching down on her good knee, she slowly reached one hand out for the pup to sniff. ‘What happened? Did you get hit by a car?’ At the end of the working day this road was busy with people keen to get home to their beachfront properties, or, in her case, the air-conditioned house three streets away from Main Beach in Southport she’d moved into six months ago when she came to the Gold Coast to work a temporary position at another vet clinic. She shared it with two women, one a pilot, the other a beauty therapist.
When the dog, likely a Huntaway, let her pat his head, she slowly began moving her hands over his neck and down his back, chest, and finally to the rear leg he held at an unnatural angle, making soothing sounds as she went. Every touch was slow and gentle, so as not to frighten or hurt, nor get bitten for her trouble. ‘There you go. I think you’ve dislocated your hip, fella. I’m a vet nurse, in case you’re doubting me. You need to see a vet.’
She’d go straight to Rural and Suburban Veterinary Clinic in Southport where her next contract started the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t far and she might be able to help with this fella, something she wanted to do as those sad eyes sucked her in deeper and deeper with every agonised breath he took.
At the car, she opened the back door before limping back to lift the dog off the roadside. Dang but he was heavy for a pup. Her back protested. Which was nothing to what her right leg was doing as she teetered towards the car. Tough. She was not dropping him. No way. The pain would be unbearable for him. As it was, he was whimpering full on, which got faster and louder when she made it to the car and leaned in awkwardly to place him on the back seat. ‘There you go.’
After giving him another rub over his head and ears, she went around to the front seat and got in, ignoring the ache in her leg muscles from all the driving she’d been doing over the last few days. A lot of groaning was going on in the back. ‘I’m onto it. Lie as still as you can for a few more minutes.’
He answered with a low moan.
‘It’s going to be all right. Promise.’ Wrong thing to say. She knew better than to make promises she mightn’t be able to keep. Her well and truly ex-boyfriend had promised she’d be fine after the accident that cost her the lower half of her right leg and two close friends who died at the scene. That was before he’d learned about the amputation. When he had, he’d taken one look, said he couldn’t cope and gone home to pack his bags. But this pup was going to be fine, though he did look as though he could do with a few decent feeds as his ribs were too obvious. ‘What’s your story, fella?’
Another moan.
‘I should’ve learnt to speak dog.’
Won’t be necessary, Willow. The vet will find he’s been chipped, the owner’s name will become apparent and he can be reunited with those who love him.
‘Lucky boy,’ she sighed. Not that she couldn’t return home to Sydney and her family whenever she wanted. Any time the wanderlust backed off, that was, which wasn’t on the horizon yet, if it ever would be. Certainly not before the memories of those two friends who’d died and all they were missing out on had receded to the back of her mind and she could face life without feeling guilty she could still make plans and be happy.
Five minutes later she pulled up outside an ordinary-looking single-storey building with a large sign telling her she’d found the veterinary clinic right where she’d believed it was. Even better, there were lights on inside, which probably meant that it had been a busy day since it was now seven o’clock—and Monday night. ‘You stay there while I go get us some help.’ Not that there was much chance of him moving unaided.
The pup continued to whimper.
Her heart tightened and had her leaning between the seats to pat her passenger. ‘This is the best place for you right now. Someone’s going to make you all good again.’ They’d better or they’d have her to answer to. She’d been interviewed online by one of the vets, Joe, and he’d come across as genuinely compassionate about animals in need of treatment. Okay, like most vets she’d worked with. Still, hopefully it would be him inside.
It took a lot of knocking and buzzer pressing before the door finally swung open and a tall, unshaven man with tired eyes and drooping shoulders stood in front of her. ‘Yes?’
Not Joe, the vet who’d interviewed her online. ‘Are you a vet?’
‘I am.’
‘I have a puppy in my car I think might’ve been hit by a vehicle. I found him on the side of the road a way back.’ She inclined her head towards her car. ‘I’m Willow Taylor, by the way.’
‘I’ll come take a look.’ He shoved a stopper under the door to keep it from closing and followed her to the car.
Her name hadn’t registered. A new vet nurse, temporary at that, obviously wasn’t the most important thing on his mind. ‘It’s my pick his hip’s dislocated.’ She opened the door. ‘Here you go, fella. This man’s a vet.’
The vet leaned in and did much the same to reassure the puppy as she had earlier before touching the hip. After a couple of minutes, he straightened. ‘Let’s get him inside.’
‘It’s not going to be easy extricating him from the car. I didn’t think about that when I put him on the back seat. Not that I had a lot of choice.’ She went to the front and pulled the seat forward, allowing a little more space for those wide shoulders.
‘I’ve got him,’ the man said and straightened slowly with the dog in his arms. ‘Follow me.’
Yes, sir.
She hadn’t been about to disappear before finding out more about the injuries and where the dog’s owner was anyway. Pinging the locks on her car, she went inside and closed the door when told. The way the orders rolled off his tongue the guy probably had a brood of kids at home he was used to issuing instructions to.
‘Hopefully he’s microchipped,’ she said to the straight back she was following.
‘I’ll check shortly. First he needs pain relief. Then I’ll see what the problem is. The way he’s favouring his hip says it is a dislocation, but there might also be fractures. There’s also something wrong with his paw.’
This was sounding a lot like the accident she’d had years back. More and more coming to light as the minutes went by and medics poked and prodded. ‘Will you amputate if there’s no hope of a fracture healing?’ she asked even when she knew the answer, her mind going back to her accident.
‘Depends on a lot of things.’
Didn’t she know it? ‘I suppose.’ One option was euthanasia, the other a badly deformed leg to run around on for ever. The only option she’d faced when the truck had crashed through the group of cyclists she was part of and run over her lower leg was to lose the lower half of that limb. Her ex, Gavin, had tried to deal with what happened, but couldn’t manage it. He had still broken her heart, even when it was already busted over the deaths of her friends.
Following the vet into a procedure room, Willow watched him place the dog ever so carefully on the table. His gentleness made her blink, even though she’d seen it often in the many clinics she’d worked at. His four-footed patients must adore him. And she’d bet the humans in his life did. She moved to the top of the table and ran her hand over the pup’s head, back and forth, to keep him calm.
Again pain-filled eyes met hers and a low whine sent chills down her spine. ‘Shh. You’re going to be okay.’
He’d better be. She’d promised. The trust in his eyes was undoing her resolve to remain aloof. But he’d have an owner. She was leaving in eight weeks.
Sorry, boyo, but I’m not the one for you.
The vet studied his patient, professionalism all over his face and in his gaze.
Willow studied him from under lowered eyelids, not so professionally. His well-worn jeans fitted perfectly, while the wrinkled shirt did little to hide honed upper-arm and chest muscles. Not that she was in the market for a man. Not even the idea of a short fling got her all hot and twitchy these days. She only had to remember the look on the face of the last man she’d dated when they’d got down and dirty in her bed to know she wasn’t ready to completely expose her imperfect body to another one any time soon.
