Page 67 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander

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And more sincere.

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

Because I screwed up. Because I don’t trust myself anymore. Because every patient who walks through my door reminds me I’m capable of making mistakes.

But I can’t say that.

Not here.

Not now.

Not to her.

“It’s complicated,” I say instead.

Mary watches me for a long moment, like she’s reading between the lines.

Then she nods.

“Okay. We’ll talk about it another time.”

Ewan returns with our beers. We clink glasses. The beer is cold and bitter.

Exactly what I need.

“And you?” I ask. “Why’d you become a vet? Don’t tell me it’s family tradition.”

Mary smiles.

“Because animals don’t judge you. They don’t care whether you’re as good as the previous vet. They just need you to help them.”

I stare at her, caught off guard by the honesty of her answer.

“That must be nice.”

“It is. Most of the time.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“The rest of the time, you end up with Ragnar hating you for mysterious reasons and Hamish stealing everything that isn’t nailed down.”

I suppress a smile.

“Ragnar doesn’t hate you.”

“He charged at me. Twice.”

“He was just... startled.”

“Finn, he looked me dead in the eyes and decided I was public enemy number one. That’s not fear. That’s personal.”

This time, I can’t stop myself from smiling.

A real smile.

And Mary notices immediately.

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