in a full-on sprint toward the sofa. The dog launched herself into Jay’s arms in a pile of joyous whines and tail-wagging. George followed at a trot, looking around as if trying to identify the source of the all-you-can-eat bacon bar, because nothing short of that would incite such a level of excitement in him.
“Wow,” Mia said, gaping at scene. “That’s unbelievable. This dog has been downright depressed since I took her with me this morning. I thought she might be suffering from PTSD. I’m not exaggerating when I say that she’s barely lifted her head off the sofa in my office all day. She wouldn’t even eat a cookie.”
At the word cookie George sniffed the air, looking for a treat.
Nora beamed at Jay. “I know how she feels. She knows you rescued her and she’s not going to forget it.” She added a wink while Ruby the cat let out a meow from where she was watching the silly dog display from her perch on Nora’s lap. Giving her paw a lick of disgust, she then tucked it beneath her.
“I don’t know about that.” Jay chuckled while Coastie nibbled enthusiastically on his head. “I think she might be smelling the cheeseburger I had on the way here.”
Fine. Charlotte was right; the guy was hot. Not that she’d done much to dispute that point when Charlotte had mentioned it.
Coastie continued her frenzied welcome while he bargained with her. “If you settle down a little bit I will rub your beautiful soft cheeks. Look at your fancy new collar,” he gushed. “Pink is your color, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? No wonder the dog was a goner. To heck with Charlotte’s assessment of him being hot. He was nice. She added brave, funny and nice to the list. Had she ever dated anyone who possessed all of these qualities in such an attractive package? Ignoring the tingle of disappointment, she reminded herself that dating him was not an option.
Examining the tag, he repeated the name with a chuckle. “Coastie?”
“Charlotte, our office manager, went out and got her some supplies today—a leash, toys, bowls, dog food and a collar with that tag. She named her Coastie in your honor. I hope you don’t mind?”
His lips curled up at the corners as he shrugged. “That sounds fine for now. I’m sure whoever adopts her will want to choose their own name anyway, right? How long until this heals and she can get a new home?”
“The wound looks really good. It was a little deeper than I thought, but we’ll take those stitches out in a week or two and she’ll be good as new. She’ll need to be brought into the office for that. So it might be a good idea to wait at least that long before putting her up for adoption.”
Nora chimed in, “My daughter knows her stuff, Jay. Like I was telling you earlier, she graduated at the top of her class from vet school. You know she did that program where you get your associate degree before you’re even out of high school? She had a bachelor’s degree in biology and a master’s in animal science by the time she was twenty-one. She’s won so many awards. The—”
“Mom,” Mia interrupted with an awkward laugh. “I’m sure Jay’s not interested in my educational background. I think all he needs to know is that I’m a qualified vet. Right, Jay?”
All these years later and her mom still didn’t see that her daughter’s burying herself in her studies had been her way of coping with her nomadic existence, her innate shyness, and her dad’s blatant lack of attention to her. Three years of therapy had helped her nail down and deal with her issues, or at least understand them. As she’d aged, she’d shifted that focus and determination to helping animals. That felt healthy and productive, even if it did feed into her desire for “positive affirmation” as her therapist called it.
Unfortunately, Jay was looking eagerly toward her mom. She did not trust the expression of exaggerated interest on his face as he glanced at her and then back to Nora.
“Dr. Anthony was one of her professors. He recruited her to join his practice. Out of all the students he’s had throughout the years, he picked Mia. Don’t worry, Coastie will be fit as a fiddle when she gets through with her.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Jay said.
The teakettle began to whistle in the background. Nora shot to her feet. “Who wants a cup of tea?” Without waiting for answers, she hustled toward the kitchen. Mia grinned weakly as her gaze met Jay’s. Twirling a finger after her mom, she asked, “Has she been...?”
“Talking about you the whole time?” Jay offered. “Yes. She mentioned that she has a collection of your trophies. Any chance we could take a peek at those later?”
Mia groaned softly and gripped the bridge of her nose. “Sorry about that. She’s...”
“She’s really proud of you. It sounds like she has good reason to be.”
“Um, thanks, but—” Mia didn’t say that her mother was clearly trying to sell her attributes to someone she’d identified as a potential suitor.
“I didn’t even make it into the spelling bee when I was in grade school. And there you were, a three-time champ.”
She pressed a finger onto her eyebrow in an effort to stop the throbbing behind her eye. “Mortified, M-O-R-T-I-F-I-E-D, mortified. Yep, that’s me.”
He laughed again as Nora sailed back into the room with a tray containing three steaming mugs and a plate heaped with cookies. She set it down on the table in front of them. “You’re in luck. I made some cookies today. Coconut oil instead of butter. Sweetened with agave nectar and stevia. Wait till you try them. Not a drop of sugar and you’d never know.”
Terror flickered briefly across Jay’s face before morphing into what Mia might describe as pained enthusiasm. “Sounds great, Nora. Thank you.”
Mia brushed a hand over her face to hide a snicker.
“Oops, forgot the soy milk.” Nora dashed away again.
“Don’t worry,” Mia whispered as her mom disappeared into the kitchen for her “creamer.”
“George is always hungry.” She patted the dog who, at again hearing the word cookie, had pushed himself up into a sitting position from where he’d been lying on Mia’s feet. She took two from the tray, handed them to the dog, broke another in half and spread a few crumbs around so it would look like they’d been enjoying the treats.
“What kind of dog do you think she is?” He rubbed his chin on the top of Coastie’s head, which Mia found incredibly endearing. She couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t just keep the dog.
“She looks Australian shepherd, but her silky coat and coloring says Brittany or springer spaniel. There might be some border collie in there, too.”
He nodded, studying the fur-ball now sprawled contentedly across his lap. Mia noticed that Coastie’s cinnamon-brown spots closely matched the shade of his hair. They looked good together.
“It’s so great of you to take care of her. I wish...” He trailed off as Ruby came closer to investigate the new canine invading her couch space. They both watched as she stuck her neck out and executed a pretentious sniff. Coastie didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the intrusion.
“What do you wish?” Mia asked. She found herself holding a breath.
“She was
