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stupid.
    My mouth didn’t get the memo. “And what do you want?”
    His smile turned into a shark. “You, of course.” Taking my hand that was firmly planted on Pikachu’s shoulders to prevent any more jumping mishaps, he curled his fingers around mine. “I accept your offer of a date. After all, that’s what your face on my cock meant, right? In some barbarian language, sniffing my man goods is code for ‘take me out, you stud?’”
    I groaned. “Oh my God, did you just call yourself ‘man goods’ and ‘stud’ in the same sentence?”
    He smirked. “Yep. And I’ve plenty more self-compliments to come. At dinner.”
    “No dinner.”
    “Yes, dinner.”
    “I work late.”
    “So unwork.”
    I rolled my eyes. “This is my business. I can’t just play hooky.”
    “Hooky is fun, now and again.” Moving back to his side of the table, the intensity faded and the crazy innuendoes vanished as if they’d never existed. He rolled his shoulders, sighing heavily. “Look, forget it. You know I’m joking. Just having a bit of fun.”
    The sudden switch left me high and dry.
    I knew it was a joke.
    Didn’t I?
    But that was the problem. He made me hate being so damn serious all the time. With him I could be stupid and say juvenile things. He offered a break from adulting and that was far too tempting.
    “Okay, fine.” Forcing myself to focus on being a professional, I murmured, “Let’s just finish this.”
    Ryder obeyed (for the first time) and our attention landed on the shivering wiener. I grabbed a sterilised syringe and drew blood while Ryder kept him calm with soft words and petting.
    Medical terms and recommended treatments filled my head rather than images of riding this intoxicating man reverse cowgirl in my office.
    Once the dog’s blood had been gathered and labelled for lab work, I said, “You’ll need to feed him four times a day but in small amounts so his stomach doesn’t explode.”
    “Hear that, buddy?” He scratched the mutt under his chin. “Don’t want an exploding tummy now do we?”
    The pooch yipped and licked Ryder’s nose.
    I melted.
    I was no longer a girl but a puddle.
    How did this happen?
    This infuriating man and his jackass jokes turned into putty when he spoke to a creature with four legs.
    Maybe, I should get on all fours and he’d be nicer to me.
    The idea shoved aside treatment plans once again in favour of blow jobs and addicting kisses, proving to myself that I sucked as a vet and needed to either go back to university or never be in the same room as Ryder Carson again.
    Polly can have him.
    This business was half hers. She could take one for the team.
    However, as Ryder grabbed his wiener and held out his hand for the script, the thought of him having the same kinky, heated conversation with Polly, instead of me, twisted my gut.
    Shit.
    I liked him.
    And there was no room in my colour-coded diary for a dirty talker, pooch lover, and gorgeously handsome man.
    Even if I did want to touch it.

CHAPTER FOUR
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Ryder
     
    IT WAS TOO FUCKING EASY.
    She was so uptight; one tug on her strings and it sent her spinning like a top.
    I laughed out loud, staring at the ceiling where a flake of paint had come unstuck thanks to years of neglect and howling storms with no one to patch the damage.
    I wasn’t unhappy in my life. I found purpose and friendship and kept myself busy doing things that granted good karma and an even better feeling of worth. But Vesper Fairfax patched up that tiny hole left inside that no activity could fill.
    Fun.
    She made me set down my rules and seriousness and want to be an annoying idiot with far too much testosterone. She made me crave stupidity that came from no expectations or aspirations—just playing together because we could.
    Not that she thought it was fun when I threatened her with a bogus law suit.
    My gaze followed the flaky paint to the crack in the wall caused by a decade of slow leaks. The small town of Thorn River