Page 234 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
“We’ll talk after,” I say quietly. “Him first.”
Saving lives, I know how to do.
Saving us?
That’s another story entirely.
We leave the abandoned building together.
Ragnar and Hamish follow silently behind us.
A deeply bizarre little procession moving through the Scottish woods.
The puppy trembles against my chest.
I tighten my hold carefully.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “We’re going to take care of you.”
Mary walks beside me.
I can feel her watching my profile.
“You’re good with him,” she says softly.
“It’s my job. Well… sort of. Wrong species, same concept.”
We drive to the veterinary clinic.
Mary unlocks the door quickly and flips on every light.
“Put him on the exam table.”
I obey.
The puppy whimpers softly.
Mary moves with calm, efficient precision.
She performs a full exam, starts fluids, draws blood.
Her hands are steady.
Certain.
And I become her assistant automatically, passing supplies whenever she needs them.
She’s beautiful like this.
Focused.
Capable.
Completely in her element.
“He’s going to make it,” she finally announces. “Thanks to Ragnar.”
She turns toward the sheep standing quietly near the entrance.
