Finding Forever (Living Again #4) (3 page)

It was just the whole day, she decided. She was emotional already because she knew after work she had to go to the river with her sister and deal with all of the feelings that her mom’s death brought out in her.

“I’ll wait. I can’t focus on anything else until I know he’s okay, anyway.” Brant stood up, his eyes sliding over to her. “Take care of him.”

She nodded, her throat thick, and turned back to Max. Focusing on the dog made it easier to pretend that Brant Tucker wasn’t affecting her.

The technicians laid Max gently in the huge kennel. His leg was all put back together and cleaned out, and he would sleep for a while. An IV drip delivered antibiotics and pain medicine. They would have to watch him to make sure no complications came up, but thankfully it had been a rather simple surgery. Lacey shut the door after the guys and stood there, watching Max’s chest move up and down in sleep. It was always a guessing game what an injured animal would do when they woke up, but she would be there for him.

“Can you go tell Mr. Tucker that Max is stable? You can bring him back here to see him, but just for a few minutes,” Dr. Jenkins said from behind her. She nodded, waiting for him to walk away before she moved.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath before pushing the door open to the waiting room. The second her eyes connected to Brant’s, he stood up, his eyes searching hers for what she was going to say.

“Dr. Russell?”

“Lacey,” she corrected, trying to keep her tone professional. “Max is out of surgery and did well. There were no complications. Dr. Jenkins said that you could see him for a few minutes.”

Brant breathed out, running his hands through his hair. “Thank God. Thank you, Lacey. Max is more than just my dog.”

Lacey nodded, not trusting her voice. Not only was he the most ridiculously good-looking guy she’d ever seen, but he was so obviously in love with this dog that it made her knees weak. And she was fully aware that she was acting like a complete female around him, but he still showed no sign of realizing her silliness.

“Follow me,” she finally said, pivoting on her heel and leading him back to the kennels. He followed her without a word. Once they reached Max’s kennel, he let out a loud breath, looking at Max and then at her.

“Can you open the door, just for a minute?”

Lacey nodded, unlatching the door. Once she did, Brant stroked Max’s head, running his hands along his sides and whispering so quietly she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She knew she should probably back away, give him a few minutes, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She watched his jaw muscles work as he continued talking to his dog. Her eyes scanned the muscles of his arms, contracting as he caressed the sleeping animal.

“He’s really okay?” She realized a moment too late that he was talking to her, and she looked up.

“As long as he has no complications or infections, yes. The true test will be when he wakes up and if he’s controllable as far as not trying to fight us or get up on his leg too early.”

Brant shook his head. “He’ll be okay. He’ll be looking for me, though, if he wakes up.”

“He has to stay here at least through tomorrow. If at that point there’s no complications, he can be released but will still have to be checked daily for a while until he’s cleared. This isn’t going to be a quick recovery, unfortunately. His femur was shattered in several places, and we had to use screws to fix it.”

Brant leaned down and kissed Max’s big head, tracing his fingers over his eyebrows like he was a lover he was expressing his love to. Standing back up, he shut the door and turned back to Lacey. “When can I come back to see him?”

“I’ll double check with Dr. Jenkins, but tomorrow morning should be good. He should be awake by then and I’m sure would love to see you. Let’s go on out here,” Lacey lead him back to the lobby, where she verified that Brant could come back in the morning.

“He’ll be okay, here, I promise,” Lacey said, seeing Brant looking longingly back at the door. He nodded, his gaze seemingly finding her for the first time. His eyes roved over her, making her squirm. A small smile played on his lips. He probably could sense her discomfort with his perusing.

“If he wakes up and sees you, I’m sure he’ll be just fine. Max always did love a pretty girl. And a doctor to boot.” Brant whistled, and she blinked. He was
flirting
with her? Taking her hand in his, he pressed his warm lips to her hand.

“Thank you again,” he rumbled, his breath whispering over her hand. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Dr. Lacey Russell.” The way her name rolled off his tongue made her shiver from head to toe, and she fought to make her mouth work.

“M-my pleasure, Brantley Tucker,” she responded finally, feeling as if her tongue was three inches thick.

He winked, turning to walk to the door. “Brant.”

With that, he walked out the door, the wind
whooshing
through her ears as the door swung behind him. What in the hell just happened?

Brant slid into the cab of his truck, letting out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like hours. And if he was completely honest with himself, it wasn’t just because of Max, though that whole thing had scared the shit out of him.

He looked back at the door he had just come out of, and wondered if she was still standing there, the shocked look on her beautiful face after he flirted with her. Dr. Lacey Russell. How had he not noticed her the second he walked into the office? He hadn’t lied, Max loved a pretty woman and had he not been in severe pain, he probably would’ve had his head in her lap. What was
wrong
with him? He wasn’t immune to good looking girls; hell, in his profession, they were a dime a dozen. The problem was, most of the ones that surrounded him on a daily basis knew how hot they were and constantly tried to use it to their advantage. Lacey seemed like a breath of fresh air in a world of fake women. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed many of those same women, but that was about all they were good for.

He was stifling in the Tennessee summer heat, but he couldn’t move to turn the truck on. Between the adrenaline of thinking he might lose Max, to the conflicting feelings he had about Dr. Lacey, he felt discombobulated. Max was okay. Looking around the cab, he saw the towels spotted with Max’s blood, and anger boiled up inside him again at the person who hit his dog and left him to die.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been as scared as he had been when he saw Max lying in the street. He still had no idea what in the world would’ve made Max go into the street. He had seen so much blood, and he was so still, Brant had been sure that he was gone. Who would hit a dog and then drive away?

As he told Lacey and Dr. Jenkins, Max was way more than a dog to him. Max was the only living thing that he felt completely loved him for who he was. Sure, his parents loved him, but only when he was doing what they wanted him to do. His dad had opted out of talking to him, since Brant had his own ideas on what he wanted to do for a living and it didn’t include the family business. His mother was always the peacemaker, trying to smooth things over between him and his hot-headed father, but she never quite knew what to do about her strong-willed son. Then there were his twenty-one year old twin sisters, Brooke and Heather. They were still in college and in their own little world, though he would do just about anything for them.

His parents had the kind of marriage that books were written about, and he had grown up in a wonderful home. It wasn’t until he had become a rebellious teenager and told his dad he had no interest in becoming
him
that the trouble had started. Brant had been on his own since he was eighteen, reaching for his own dreams and doing things on his own terms.

He thought he had been in love once, right after he moved out on his own. He had met Victoria through a friend, and they had gotten serious quickly. That was, until she decided that he couldn’t do anything more for her and moved on to someone else. Before breaking up with him, of course. Looking back, he knew he hadn’t really been in love with her, but in love with the idea that she represented and the dream of escaping the confines his dad was trying to put on him.

Since then he had dated quite a bit, but not seriously, focusing instead on his career and had done quite well with it. Being a model, taking on a persona in front of the camera had always been so fulfilling to him and something he enjoyed from the time he was first discovered back in high school. His dad, Robert Tucker, the owner of one of the most successful ranches in Tennessee and third generation rancher, just couldn’t understand why his manly son would want to do something so
feminine
. He couldn’t even count how many times his dad had asked him if he was gay, just because he wanted to model.

He had made quite a name for himself, and even had some national photographers and magazines contacting him now. His agent, Angela, was convinced he was going to be a household name very soon, but he was trying not to get his hopes up.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, making him realize he was still sitting in the parking lot of the vet’s office. He could chalk up his insanity at sitting in a stifling car to having a rough day, right? It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain brown-haired veterinarian wearing dog scrubs with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Nope. Definitely not.

Brant pulled the truck out of the parking lot, his mind elsewhere. It took him a few moments to realize that his phone was ringing, and he had to stop to find it. In his haste to get Max to the vet, he had just thrown it in the truck. The vet could be calling on Max. What if something was wrong?

“Hello?” He knew his voice sounded panicked. He had just left there, something couldn’t have happened, could it?

“Tucker!”

Brant smiled, despite feeling as if his stomach could come up in his throat at any second. “Evan!” Evan Carmichael had been his friend since kindergarten, and one of the very few people that supported him with no contingencies. “What’s going on, man?”

“Just checkin’ in, Cosmo,” Evan joked. He had taken to calling Brant Cosmo after the magazine once he had started modeling full time. While Brant would see that as an insult from many people, it wasn’t one from Evan.

“It’s been a shitty day, Ev,” Brant admitted, turning the truck towards the only place he could think of to go right now. Even though Max wouldn’t be there to run through the water and chase birds, there was no way he could go home.

Evan’s voice became serious. “What happened?”

Brant filled him in, trying hard not to allow his voice to crack. Everyone knew that men shouldn’t show emotion. Well, according to his dad, anyway. He left out the part about Lacey, saying only Dr. Russell. He wasn’t in the mood for an inquisition.

“Want to meet for drinks? Sounds like you could use a few to take the edge off.”

“I sure as hell don’t want to go home. Let’s say 7? I’m going to walk the river right now, pretend that Max is with me. And I have a shoot next week so I won’t be drinking the rest of the week to prepare.”

“Okay, Cosmo. See you later. I’m glad Max is going to be okay, man. I hope the asshole that hit him is caught.”