He dips his chin. “Hannah, you can’t know that for sure.”
“Bandit’s a fighter. Look how long he survived despite his injury. Trust me, he’ll be running around in no time.”
“Then I’ll take your word for it because I don’t know the first thing about dogs.” His voice is more subdued.
“Didn’t you have a dog growing up?”
He shakes his head. “My parents didn’t allow pets.”
“Not even a turtle?” Leaning forward like a goofball, I gesture to the tattoo running around his left bicep.
He glances at his arm. “Nope.”
Wow, what kind of childhood did Nick have? “See? All the more reason why you have to help me.”
“Help you? I’m pretty sure you can manage him on your own.”
“True, but I’d rather have help. I still have patients to treat, which includes you.” Sudden inspiration hits me and makes me gasp. “I know. I’ll combine your sessions with rehabbing Bandit, so you get more time with me.”
“With you?” His words slide out like tires on gravel.
That sound and the way he’s looking at me… I swear, his eyes just hit a whole new level of smolder. “In my office, on the equipment. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Part of me wishes he would say he wants me instead, but I know that’s not happening. He needs to stay focused, and I’ve learned my lesson about dating a player. Even so, I can’t help but feel drawn in, not just by Nick’s good looks and sexy moves but also by his concern for people and animals, like the turtles.
During his sessions, he’s opened up more about what his work means to him and some of his close calls—the ones that have left a mark on him. And his passion for the Turtle Patrol program.
Maybe this is a bad idea after all. As we’ve connected more, my heart is growing more conflicted about keeping Nick at a distance. I should have thought it through first before I blurted it out.
“Yeah. Sure, why not? I need all the help I can get.” He tucks his chin and plays with a loose thread on the seam of his jeans.
“Can I ask you something?”
He lifts his head and locks eyes with mine. “Shoot.”
“Why are you so determined to recertify in seven weeks? You said you’d have to retrain if you’re not ready. Would that be so bad?”
His gaze falters, and he swallows, drawing my attention to his neck and shoulders again. How is it possible for a swallow to be sexy?
“The next training isn’t until late spring.” His expression appears almost lost as if the idea terrifies him. “That’s a long time to be out of the game.”
The desire to hug him right now is intense. I feel almost helpless. There must be some kind of workaround. “I’m sure Zane would understand, right? Can’t he assign you to some other area in the meantime?”
“I don’t want to do poolside.”
“Even if it’s temporary?”
He shakes his head but says nothing.
“But wouldn’t that?—”
He springs up and stacks our plates. “I should probably get going and leave you to your movie. You should rest.”
I’m at a loss for words as I watch him put the dishes and pan into the sink. He shut the conversation down so abruptly.Obviously, there’s something else driving him to push so hard. But if he’s not ready to talk about it, I’m not going to pressure him.
“What about the movie?”
“I picked one about a dog. Figured you’d want to watch something like that.” He’s standing halfway between the couch and the door. Like he’s prepared to make a run for it.
