Page 31 of Vetted for Vengeance
“They're just scrubs. The women's tunics are much more practical, but yes, your student nurse uniform.” The word lands heavier than I expect. I’ve already decided this for him.
“You know I haven't decided yet.”
“I know.” That's why I hadn't ordered him anything yet.
“Thank you,” he beams at me. “Can I try it on now?”
“Of course.”
He scampers off, clutching more than one set, but he seems happy.
“How is he doing?” I call out to Tree, marching over with my empty mugs.
“Well, I can't fault his enthusiasm.” She smiles. “He's polite and eager, and he actually knows more than Chloe.”
I know. It makes him useful. Trainable.
“Too many episodes of Follow the Vet.” I say it with a chuckle, but a brief worry follows. He knew me by my voice. That's stalker-level obsession.
Or survival. Learning about the person who holds power over you.
It would be just my luck to have kidnapped a stalker and inserted him firmly in the center of my life.
“He flinches a lot. If he gets something wrong, he reacts like he expects to be slapped or something. Nothing dramatic, just a little. You know what I mean?”
“I do.” I’ve seen it before. And here was me thinking he just did it with me because he knew.
“I don't think it was just the dogs suffering in that place.” Some wounds don't show up on scans. Some never heal properly.
At that moment, he steps out of the staff room, smoothing down his scrubs with a nervous action. I can't help but smile at the change. It’s immediate… disturbingly so. He's still a nervous little mouse, but now he doesn't look like a beggar. And the scrub pants make his butt look much better. They give him some shape. I approve. The transformation is immediate. He suddenly looks as if he belongs here. Like he’s always been here.
Like I’ve been missing something without realizing it.
He gives me a coy smile and then a little twirl. The scrub pants hang perfectly on his hips. He shouldn’t move like that in front of me. Not without understanding what it does.
“Very nice,” I give him the compliment he seems to need. “What's stopping you from committing? Tree sings your praises.” I keep my tone neutral, but the question isn’t.
“I'm… well…” he fumbles for a reason to say no. Searching for something that won’t offend me. “I don't want to get in your way.” His voice drops slightly when he says it.
“None of my other nurses are in my way.”
“None of your other nurses are living in your home.”
“We can fix that in time.” I smile too quickly, too certainly. I refraining from telling him about the nurses' accommodation upstairs. He's a guy; the live-in nurses are women; it wouldn't be right. He's better off staying at my place. Safer. Contained. Where I can see him.
“I’ve really enjoyed my morning. Tree is great, and this place is so organized.”
“Talk to the office manager; she'll go over all the important employment stuff.”
There. Now he can stop hedging his bets. I need him to stay so I can keep an eye on him. I tell myself it's caution.
Nothing more. I don’t question why that feels like a lie.
Chapter eighteen
Noah
The practice is so similar to the kennels in some things, and totally different in everything else. It has the same constant noise; barking, padding, the occasional whimper, but it isn’t miserable.
