we rescued.” Or so she assumed. She’d left him in a bit of a hurry.
What on earth had he been thinking to kiss her like that?
More to the point, what had she been thinking to allow it to happen? To respond? Normally, she prided herself on her control. Her good sense. With Easton, it seemed, she had neither.
Maureen passed over a container of wet wipes, her bright diamond ring glittering. Recently, she’d married Easton’s brother, Xander. “Here.”
“What?” Portia took them, confused.
“You’ve got dust on your knees and on your elbows.”
She looked down to check, heat flaming her cheeks as she remembered being close to Easton. Of their bodies pressed against each other on the hard ground. Not that she intended to share those details with anyone. “It’s messy work out there.”
As if on cue to make her cheeks flame hotter, the side door opened and she heard the long stride that was distinctly Easton’s. From a distance, he glanced at her, the bird cradled against his chest in a careful but firm hold.
Maureen stepped forward. “Do you need help?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got this. You two carry on.”
Easton headed toward the back where they did X-rays, away from other animals. His footsteps grew softer until the sound faded altogether.
Maureen turned back to her. “You seem more of the office job type. I’ve often wondered what made you take on this position.” Blunt and honest conversation with Maureen. While normally Portia appreciated Maureen’s directness, Portia didn’t know if she had the stamina for this sort of exchange right now.
“The pay is more than generous and the locale is enticing.”
Did that sound as lame out loud as she thought? Didn’t matter. It was true. She’d needed the better-than-average pay, with housing included, to save the money she needed to pay for her brother. Her stomach did another flip and she reached for a cracker. The scents of the clinic were bothering her in a way they normally didn’t—the stringent smell of antiseptic cleaner used religiously on every surface, the wood shavings lining crates, the air of live plants.
“And the pay is such because the other secretaries before you couldn’t handle an eccentric boss and his unconventional hours, helping him with X-rays, the animals and fieldwork, cleaning his messy office...or they tried to put the moves on him. And yet you’ve put up with him even though he’s clearly not your type.”
Portia stiffened, biting down hard on the edge of the cracker. She chewed and swallowed before speaking. “What would my type be?”
“Did I sound presumptuous? I’m sorry if that came out wrong.”
“Not at all. I’m truly curious because... Oh, never mind.” The question had sounded innocent, but in a strange way, Portia began to wonder if Maureen knew, or at the very least suspected something had happened between Portia and Easton.
“I just meant I can see you with a suave, well-traveled businessman or a brilliant professor. But of course you’re clearly more than capable of taking care of your own love life. Tell me about your type? Or maybe there’s already a gentleman in your life?”
A gentleman in her life? Time for a stellar deflection.
Portia arched her brow and rolled her eyes. She did everything she could to visually signify that she had no connection to anyone at all. One of Portia’s greatest strengths had always been hiding behind conversation.
“Tell me about your honeymoon plans.” That topic ought to do it. Maureen and Xander had delayed their honeymoon trip because, after they were married, they’d realized just how deeply they cared for each other. Originally their marriage had been for convenience—he’d needed a wife to keep custody of his daughter and she’d needed citizenship—but it had since deepened into true love.
“I cannot wait, Portia. It will be hard to be away from Rose for two weeks, but she’ll be staying with her grandparents.”
Rose, Xander’s sweet, blonde baby girl. Portia’s unborn baby’s cousin.
The weight of that sentiment slammed into her every fiber.
Her baby and Rose would be family. Portia’s hand settled on her stomach. She was connected to this place and this family now, no matter what.
Portia’s brother was connected too, through her, even though he lived in the panhandle—in Pensacola, Florida—getting ready to enter his last year of college. He had emotional support from their aunt nearby, but the older woman barely made ends meet. She had gone above and beyond by taking the two of them in after their mother drank herself into liver failure when Portia was thirteen and her brother, Marshall, was only seven.
It was up to Portia to support her family—including this unexpected baby.
Her head started spinning with how tangled everything had become.
Maureen stepped forward, concern creasing her brow. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“It was a long work day. I’m hungry and exhausted. That’s all.”
She needed to get herself together. Wear looser clothes if need be. Give herself a chance to verify everything was alright with the pregnancy and if it was, take the time she needed to come up with a plan for her future.
She’d worked too hard for her independence to give it up now, no matter how tempting Easton might be.
What the hell was up with Portia?
When he’d stepped into the wildlife preserve’s main building, he had taken note of her pale face and standoffish demeanor. Leaving her alone to talk with Maureen seemed the best option. He’d heard the two women leave a half hour later, each sending a quick farewell shout before heading out.
Easton understood that Portia regretted their impulsive encounter during the tropical storm. He’d almost started to accept that it wouldn’t be leading anywhere. It was one night and no more.
But then he’d seen that look in her eyes today.
Shaking his head in bemusement, he closed the clinic door and punched in the security code before turning away into the inky dark. Night creatures spoke to him through the cover of darkness, a cooing mix of coastal birds and tropical bugs. He could identify each sound as readily as he could identify different human voices. As a young boy, Easton digested each sound the way some men committed the sounds of roaring engines to memory. He knew each voice and wanted to help ensure they all continued to speak.
He’d had offers to work at other, larger clinics in more exotic locales, but the newly named Lourdes Family Wildlife Refuge was a personal quest for him and his brother. And he liked this place he called home.
As much as he’d enjoyed his eccentric life growing up, always on the move with his globe-trotting parents, he also enjoyed waking up in the same place each morning. The Key Largo–based animal preserve blended
