of wearing a parka or heavy coat like a sane person, she’d pulled on a vinyl-looking, unlined, bright yellow slicker. He’d lay money on the guess that she had on a matching tank top beneath the slicker.
The woman routinely risked hypothermia in the name of fashion. Or more likely, in blatant attempts to attract a man. Since his lottery win, Jack had the unfortunate distinction of being that man.
She swiveled toward the office door. “Jack! Thank goodness you’re in.”
He suppressed a groan. It wasn’t that Mary Kay wasn’t a nice gal, it was just that she was so…ragingly single. Most eligible men—whom she should have realized by now he wasn’t one of—in these parts steered clear of her. Thanks to Pumpkin, a run-of-the-mill barn cat Mary Kay insisted was a rare type of Persian purebred that only he could treat, Jack had no choice but to weather Mary Kay’s determination head on.
He cleared his throat. “Actually, Mary Kay, I was just on my way out. But Dr. Woods, here, can take a look at Pumpkin—”
“Now Jack,” Mary Kay interrupted. “You know how delicate Pumpkin is.”
Jack looked skeptically at the rotund, very robust appearing cat hanging over Mary Kay’s arms. The only delicate thing about Pumpkin was the silly pink, rhinestone-studded collar and matching leash Mary Kay put on him. Didn’t the woman realize she was living in a very rustic part of Montana?
“I really don’t think he can bear the upset of being handled by a stranger. No offense, Melinda.” Mary Kay’s apology to Mel sounded genuine, despite her absurd reasoning.
It hit him that Mary Kay was yet another Jester resident to snub his partner for a ridiculous reason. He glanced at Mel. She had crossed her arms over her chest, and though she was smiling reassuringly at Mary Kay, her smile looked tight around the edges. Great.
“Please, Jack.” Mary Kay reclaimed his attention. “There must be something wrong with Pumpkee. He’s been coughing that awful cough again.”
The cough the cat had yet to cough in anyone’s presence other than Mary Kay’s.
And because she lugged the huge thing everywhere with her—probably for warmth—Jack had a hard time believing Pumpkin was anything but fat and spoiled. Still, he was duty-bound to check the cat out.
“All right, Mary Kay. I’ll take a quick look at him.” Jack gestured toward the clinic’s lone examining room.
Mary Kay smiled triumphantly and headed in.
Jack leveled a look at Mel. “I want to finish our discussion. This’ll only take a second. Okay?” If needed, he’d go blue in the face convincing her that she could handle the practice on her own.
She shrugged and looked away. He couldn’t tell if the fight had gone out of her, or if Mary Kay’s additional refusal to let Mel treat her animal had been the straw that broke Mel’s spirit. Lord, he hoped not.
The pestering he was getting from Mary Kay and some of the other ladies in the area, not all of them single, with supposedly sick animals and a shared fantasy of landing themselves a millionaire, was becoming too much to take. He needed Mel happy so he could leave. Soon. The constant reminder of his availability had made the memories of the reasons behind it that much harder to bear.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured her.
She waved him off and sat down, her attention on the paperwork stacked in once neat piles on his desk.
Jack blew out a breath and turned to leave the office. As he walked out he grabbed his seldom-used white lab coat off the rack next to the door and pulled it on. As armor went, it was a sorry thing, but as of late his professionalism was the only defense he had against women like Mary Kay. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that after one of the entertainment news crews that now routinely haunted Jester had followed him out on a call and caught on tape his attempts to calm a bucking horse, he’d been dubbed The Big-Bucks Bachelor by the press. As if he didn’t have reason enough to get out of town.
He made a point to leave the office door open as well as the door to the exam room after he went in. He didn’t want to give any sort of impression to anyone.
Mary Kay obviously felt the opposite. Rather than placing Pumpkin on the exam table, she’d set him on the ground and had hitched one of her hips on the table. She’d managed to strike a pose with the subtlety of an alpha female, with her jacket off her shoulders—he’d been right about the tank top, only it was white, and very thin. She’d catch pneumonia for sure this winter.
She eyed the open door, then surprised him by calling out, “Oh, Melinda, I almost forgot. I noticed on my way in that your truck is parked right under a huge icicle hanging off the clinic’s sign. While that truck of yours is already kind of beat-up, you might want to move it before that icicle drops and you end up with a great big dent in your hood.”
The sound of Melinda’s chair scraping on the vinyl floor reached them, and Jack turned in time to see her leave the office. With her coat dragging behind her and muttering in a very un-Melinda way under her breath, she stomped her way to the front door.
After Melinda left, Jack turned back to Mary Kay. Her smile would have made any feline proud.
“Everyone knows how much she loves that crummy old truck,” she said by way of explanation.
It was true. Melinda made no secret about her pride in her truck, willing to take the ribbing doled out to anyone who actually washed a work vehicle on a regular basis in the dead of winter. As a born and bred Montanan, she should know better. Although she’d once mentioned that the truck had been the only thing her father had ever given her. He’d thought there’d been a shadow of pain darkening her brown eyes after she’d said it. She’d had the chance to elaborate, but she hadn’t. And he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t his place to pry.
Flashing a saucy grin, Mary Kay returned her attention to Jack.
He pointedly shifted his attention to Pumpkin, who looked annoyed over having to actually touch the ground. “Okay, big fella, lets have a listen to those lungs.” He started to squat down in front of the cat, but Mary Kay grabbed hold of the lapels of his lab coat and hauled him against her.
Surprised and off balance, Jack had no choice but to flatten his hands on the polished metal table and lock his elbows to keep from toppling onto her. The strength of her mercantile-bought perfume made his eyes water.
Apparently oblivious to his distress, in a surprisingly accurate Marilyn Monroe-like breathlessness, Mary Kay said, “Let’s stop beating around the bush, Jack, and just do what animals like us are supposed to do.”
His gaze went instinctively to the other door out of the exam room, the one that they brought contagious or severely injured small animals through. But she had too good of a hold on him. “Mary Kay, please,” Jack demanded. He tried to straighten away from her, but she turned out to be remarkably strong.
“No, I’m the one willing to beg. I’m willing to do anything to be the one tamed by your great, big, strong hands,” she purred and once again tried to pull him down with her onto the table.
No way was he going to let that happen. But his worn-thin professionalism kept him from physically removing her from his person.
“Don’t fight it, Jack. We’d be so good together. Can’t you
