Page 87 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Bachelor auction.
Even thinking the words made my left eye twitch.
I was a veterinarian. I dealt in measurable things. Weight, temperature, bloodwork, the very specific and documentable chaos of a twenty-pound goat who had, in the last forty hours, eaten a phone charger, two pens, and a document I genuinely needed.
“Baaah!”
Where the hell had he gone now?
I ran a hand through my hair and turned toward the sound. The goat had gotten himself stuck. What remained of his leash was wrapped around two chair legs, a purse strap, and someone’s ankle.
Statistically impressive.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, rushing over to Mrs. Halstead.
“It’s fine.” She laughed and then went right back to her conversation, as though having livestock tangled around her ankle was a normal breakfast occurrence. She did have five children and was probably used to the unexpected.
“Hold still,” I told Chaos as I crouched to his level, trying to keep enough personal space between myself and Mrs. Halstead’s leg.
Chaos headbutted me every time I got close. By the time I stood back up, I was fairly certain I’d pulled a muscle, and completely certain I’d become entertainment for a solid third of the diner.
Great.A preview of tomorrow night’s main event.
But Delaney also had her eyes on me.
I gave her a small wave, turned to the counter, placed an order with Nora, and asked her to deliver it to Wyatt’s table when it was ready.
I quickly formulated a plan. A good one. Place the order, collect the goat, sit with my brother, and under absolutely nocircumstances think about the fact that Delaney Hart was twelve feet away and her hair was shining in the sunlight from the window?—
Chaos jerked the leash clean out of my hand.
Without so much as a glance back at me, he trotted directly to Delaney’s booth with the purpose of an animal who’d been given GPS coordinates and a personal mission. Once he got within petting distance of her, he leaned against her leg with the ease of an old, established friendship.
Delaney laughed—a bright, completely unselfconscious sound, the kind that made half the diner look over—and dropped her hand to scratch behind his ears.
“Well, hello there,” she murmured.
The goat melted farther into her. Thirty pounds of chaos that had been actively trying to maim me for the better part of an hour went boneless against her knee as though she’d hit a switch on his back.
I stared longer than was probably advisable.
“Want me to take your order to Delaney’s table instead?” Nora asked, with a gleam in her eyes.
“Wyatt’s table is fine.”
She hummed in a way that suggested she disagreed.
I strode to Delaney’s booth with what I hoped was the energy of a man simply retrieving his goat, and not of a man who’d been looking for an excuse to visit her table since he walked in.
“Sorry about that,” I said, reaching for Chaos’s leash.
“It’s fine.” She gave the goat one last scratch. “You’re being a good baby right now, aren’t you?”
The second my hand got close, Chaos launched himself upward—a heat-seeking missile—directly at Delaney.
“Shit—”
I lunged.
