I look up at him. “Really?”
“Really. Every time I saw you bending over a fence. Every time you smiled at me. I wondered what you tasted like.”
“And?”
He kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips.
“Better than I imagined,” he says.
Laughing, I bury my face in his neck.
We lie there and watch the sun move across the sky.
I don’t want to move. I don’t want to go back to the clinic. I don’t want to think about the meeting or the will or New York.
I just want to stay here. In this bed of flowers. With him.
But the real world waits for no one.
“We should go,” I whisper eventually.
He sighs. “I know.”
He helps me up, brushes the petals from my hair, zips my jeans. I watch him buckle his belt.
He looks satisfied and relaxed. He looks happy.
I feel the same.
The air in the clinic office feels heavy. It hangs in the room, pressing against my skin like a damp blanket.
I reach for the water bottle on the desk. It’s my third in the last hour. I unscrew the cap and gulp it down, a temporary relief from the dryness in my throat.
Dr. Morales sits across from me. He watches me over the rim of his coffee mug, brow furrowed.
“Are you okay, Sedona?” he asks. “You look flushed.”
I nod quickly and set the empty bottle aside.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just… the AC seems to be acting up. Is it warm in here?”
Dr. Morales glances at the thermostat on the wall. “It reads seventy degrees.”
“Must be me then,” I say. I fan myself with a manila folder. “I’m still recovering from the quarantine. Maybe it’s a side effect.”
I stand up and walk to the window. I undo the latch and push it open, and a breeze drifts in. It helps a little. It clears some of the stale air.
I turn back to the desk, forcing myself to focus.
“As I was saying,” I continue. “If you keep the clinic running while I’m in New York, I can offer you a salary increase. Better than what your team in Austin is offering.”
Dr. Morales leans back in his chair. “That’s a generous offer.”
“You’ve been good to this town,” I say. “And you were very helpful with the crisis at the Copper Creek Ranch. I want you to be comfortable here.”
“And the commission?”
“Fifty percent,” I say. “On all large animal calls. Plus, I’ll sign over the client list. The Archer name carries weight here.”
