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want to come then, so I can go over his care.”

Since I don’t have Phillip’s phone number and the vet’s office didn’t take it down last night, I guess it is on me to pick up Ace.

“Oh, right. I’ll come pick him up around six-thirty tonight when I get off work,” I agree.

“I look forward to seeing you then,” he says cheerfully.

Once we end the call, I try to figure out what I’m going to do with the dog once I have him. Do I take him to Phillip’s? He seemed pretty adamant about adopting him, and it will be a good excuse to see him again tonight, even though he would probably rather see the dog than me.

“Here he is, almost as good as new,” Dr. Dallas, the vet, jokes when he carries Ace into the exam room and puts him on the table that evening. Ace tries to sit on his back leg and then whimpers when the cast on the right hind leg gets in the way. He flops down on his other side..

“Aww, poor guy,” I say as I rub his head and then around the white of his chin and neck.

“I’ll send some pain meds home with him. He can have one in the morning and one at night if he seems uncomfortable.”

Ace’s tongue swipes out and licks at my finger while his big, brown eyes stare up at me so sweet and innocently, reminding me of someone else I recently took care of while they were injured. After the first taste of my hand, he comes back for more, licking and licking until I pull away.

“Okay, buddy. I don’t know you well enough for a tongue bath,” I laugh as I rub his ears, keeping out of reach of his now panting tongue.

“He’s a stray you and your…boyfriend hit last night?”

I look up at the vet and shake my head. “Yes, he’s a stray, but Phillip is just a friend.”

“Oh,” Dr. Dallas responds. “Well, he seems to have a good temperament.”

“Who, Ace or Phillip?” I joke with a smile.

“Ace,” he answers with a grin. “I’m guessing he’s a boxer mixed with something a little bigger, about six or so months old, which means he’ll need to be neutered soon unless you want him to father litters all over town.”

“Oh, right,” I agree.

“We can wait until his leg’s recovered since I don’t think he’ll be wandering too far until he heals. When I see you back to take his cast off, we can set a date.”

“Sure, that sounds great,” I tell him as I keep scratching Ace’s head. He closes his eyes and looks like he’s smiling with his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.

“Then I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks, unless I can convince you to let me take you to dinner this weekend?”

“Ah, what?” I ask, looking away from the dog’s face to the vet’s. Did he just ask me out?

“Would you like to have dinner with me? I work the night shift during the week but not on weekends.”

“Oh,” I reply in surprise. I guess Dr. Dallas liked my satin pajamas more than I expected last night. I’m a hot mess this evening too in my wrinkled scrubs and my hair falling out of my ponytail after my long shift.

“How about I give you my number? You can think about it and call me if you’re interested?” he asks when I don’t respond with a yes or a no. I think I’m too surprised because there has only been one man on my mind for the past week or so.

“Sure,” I agree, because it’s the polite thing to say. When Dr. Dallas pulls out a business card from his dress shirt pocket, I look at him from the prospective as a date and not a veterinarian. He’s most likely in his mid to upper thirties with dark brown hair kept short and neat. While he’s nowhere close to Phillip’s towering height, he still has a few inches on me and is lean like a runner or a professional man who works in an office all day and doesn’t have to or want to lift anything heavy. I would even say he’s attractive, but I just don’t see the spark of potential in him as more than a friend.

Guess I’ve developed a sudden addiction to bad boys.

Chapter Thirteen

Joanna

When I get to Phillip’s apartment building, I realize that I don’t even know which one is his. I put Ace down on the patch of sandy grass over near the entrance with his new red collar and leash on him to see if he needs to go to the bathroom while I try and figure out what to do.

I can’t go door to door knocking on each one to ask. The vibe I get from this neighborhood is not a good one – like more than one renter could open the door with a gun pointed at me.

I’m sure someone as big and tough as Phillip wouldn’t worry about the armed neighbors, but I do.

“Who are you?” a man asks when he comes out of one of the first-floor apartments. There’s a cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth, the rest of his face wrinkled and grumpy looking with only a light fringe of white hair around his bald head.

“Hi, I’m Joanna.”

“I don’t remember you. Who are you living with? I’m supposed to be told when someone new moves in!” he says angrily.

“Oh, I don’t live here. I’m just visiting someone,” I say with a smile.

“Who would that be?” he asks.

“Phillip…” I start and then pause since I don’t know his last name.

“Phillip? I ain’t got no renters here named Phillip.”

“What about Fiasco? Do you know him?” I reply since not even his friends in the MC knew his real name.

The old man blinks at me and then his narrowed eyes become slightly more pleasant. “Yeah, I know Fiasco. He’s a member of

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