No Good Doctor Read online

  No Good Doctor

  Nicole Snow

  Ice Lips Press

  Content copyright © Nicole Snow. All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America.

  First published in July, 2019.

  Disclaimer: The following book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is only coincidental.

  Please respect this author's hard work! No section of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. Exception for brief quotations used in reviews or promotions. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thanks!

  Cover Design – CoverLuv. Photo by Rafa G. Catala.

  Contents

  About the Book

  1. Barking Up the Wrong Tree (Ember)

  2. Dog Days (Doc)

  3. Gone to the Dogs (Ember)

  4. Like Cats and Dogs (Doc)

  5. Resting My Dogs (Ember)

  6. Beware of Dog (Doc)

  7. Old Dog, New Tricks (Ember)

  8. Wool of Bat, Tongue of Dog (Doc)

  9. Dogging My Steps (Ember)

  10. Mad Dog Blues (Doc)

  11. Paws for Thought (Ember)

  12. Ruff Riding (Doc)

  13. Dog Eat Dog (Ember)

  14. Hounded (Doc)

  15. Not Here For Your Dogma (Ember)

  16. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie (Doc)

  17. A Dog In Heat (Ember)

  18. Done Dog Dirty (Doc)

  19. Die Like a Dog (Ember)

  20. In the Doghouse (Doc)

  21. Dog Bite (Ember)

  22. Dogfight (Doc)

  23. The Hounds of Hell (Ember)

  24. All Good Dogs (Doc)

  25. Dog-Gone Right (Ember)

  No Perfect Hero Preview

  About Nicole Snow

  More Books by Nicole

  About the Book

  Dashing. Jacked. Bad tempered. My new boss, everybody.

  Now what's the cure for smitten?

  Pinch me. I can't believe I'm working under him.

  Dr. Gray Caldwell. Hottest, swooniest, stormiest bachelor ever.

  Insanely tall. Unfair perfection. Intimidating abs and X-ray glares.

  Doc puts the animal back in veterinarian.

  My dream job should be all puppies and kittens.

  Turns out, my new boss hates three things:

  1. Small town drama. Baby, we've got tons.

  2. Pets in distress – and he's their hero every time.

  3. Anybody poking around his past. Like me. Oh, crud.

  But how could I resist the best mystery in Heart's Edge?

  I wish I had. Unraveling Gray is a dangerous game.

  One wrong move could end our little town.

  Plus this gorgeous, complicated grump plays for keeps.

  I barely recognize the man he becomes vowing to protect me.

  A beastly shield who sets every rule on fire.

  Then one stolen, five alarm kiss sends my whole world spinning.

  Hello, trouble. Farewell, sanity.

  What if it's not the good doctor who claims me – but the bad one?

  1

  Barking Up the Wrong Tree (Ember)

  I’m really confused right now.

  It’s my first day on the job, and I’ve already seen three animals that aren’t even sick at all.

  I mean, I’m glad. I never want to see animals in pain; it’s part of the reason I became a vet tech.

  But this doesn’t make sense.

  None of these critters have come in for a routine checkup, new vaccinations, or any of the usual reasons you bring a healthy pet in.

  Every last one of their owners is so worried about Mr. Lucky’s gout or Purrbles’ upset stomach or any number of other ailments. And every time, it turns out to be nothing, a figment of their imagination.

  Basically, I’ve got a waiting room full of women with fat, happy cats, dogs, birds, even one lizard, every last one of them in perfect health.

  Every last one of their owners hoping to be seen by someone other than me.

  And the woman waiting right now for me to finish checking her St. Bernard for a nonexistent splinter in his paw looks extremely disappointed that I’m not the good doctor she came for. I’d say Arielle Christianson is one annoying client, but she’s kept it tame compared to a few who came through earlier.

  She’s only asked me three times when he’ll be in, after all.

  Dr. Caldwell.

  “Doc” to everyone in Heart’s Edge. I don’t think anyone knows his first name, and I doubt he’d tell me if I asked. He’s the strangest man I’ve ever met, for all two seconds I’ve spent talking to him.

  Did I say this doesn’t make sense?

  Maybe it’s more that I just don’t get it.

  I don’t get stuffing your pet into a carrier and ferrying them across town just for a slim chance you might get to flirt with the hottest vet ever.

  But half the town’s female population is here trying to catch a glimpse of him.

  God. It’s like being on a season of The Bachelor, only I’m not in the running.

  I’m a camera tech or something, watching with a kind of confused fascination as they try to win the attention of Heart’s Edge’s most eligible bachelor.

  And I try not to be too obvious now, watching as the door to the exam room opens, and Doc comes striding in.

  He’s tall. No-nonsense. Honestly, kind of intimidating.

  He’s got this almost militant stride, and shoulders that could pop out the seams of his lab coat. When he moves, the air goes electric, and it’s like half the freaking universe grinds to a stop waiting for his every word.

  The woman waiting next to the table, tapping her foot impatiently and surveying her nails, perks immediately, straightening up, arching her spine in a way that makes her chest and butt thrust out in opposite directions. She smiles with her eyes so seductively half-lidded and her lips just a little bit pursed I want to roll my eyes right out of my head.

  Before Doc even gets a chance to say anything, Arielle pushes herself forward, laying a hand on his arm and pouting up at him. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, Dr. Caldwell. She—” a little pronoun spoken like a dirty curse, “—said there’s nothing wrong with my Jake, and I just know I saw him limping this morning.”

  Doc glances toward me, his green eyes cutting and sharp. Whatever else about him makes pulses race around this man, there’s no denying the power of those eyes.

  They’re as clear as sea glass. Just as reflective and strange, like he’s washed up on shore here in Heart’s Edge filled with all the secrets of the deep.

  I immediately look away, focusing on the St. Bernard, trying to pretend I just somehow never heard the conversation going on right over my short little head.

  “You’re fine, aren’t you, Jake?” I murmur to the dog. He lolls his tongue happily when I scratch behind his ruff, working my way up to the sweet spot behind his ears. “You’re just getting a little old and probably had a bit of vertigo this morning.”

  Doc remains silent for a moment but maneuvers smoothly out of the woman’s grasp, making it so elegant it doesn’t even seem like an insult. “Ms. Delwen, your assessment?”

  Suddenly all eyes are on me, and my stomach drops out. I bite my lip, keeping my gaze on the dog. “Well...you noticed him limping when he stood up, right?”

  Arielle sniffs, lifting her nose in the air. “Yeah, but what does that have to do with it?”

  I smile. Just because she wants to be rude doesn’t mean I have to be rude back – and I can’t be, anyway. This is my job, and the customer is always right.

  Plus, I want to make a good impression on my first day, even if I haven’t had a chance to do more than run
interference for The Bachelor so far.

  Although to me, Jake here – with his soft, clean-smelling fur and lovely lopsided doggy grin – is more my customer than his owner.

  “It stopped shortly after, right?” I ask.

  She frowns. She’s actually trying to remember, earnest and thoughtful, her brows knitting, and it eases something worried inside me that she cares enough to try. “Hm, maybe...”

  Arielle glances at Doc nervously now.

  It’s not hard to tell she’s torn between actually being worried about Jake, and not wanting to be embarrassed by getting caught fishing to see if the doctor is in, out, or sexually available.

  I hate having to be the one to tell her that her dog actually does need attention, especially when I’m new in town and trying not to alienate anyone.

  But Doc’s watching me, she’s watching him, and I think Jake’s busy watching that glass jar of doggie treats across the room.

  Somebody has to worry about poor Jake, drool and all, right?

  I scratch underneath the dog’s collar. “His file says he’s eleven now, yeah? For a breed this size, he’s almost eighty in dog years, and he’s got the same issues as an eighty-year-old man. Don’t you, boy?” He nudges my cheek with his cold, wet nose and belts out an agreeable yip. “You’re just not as spry as you used to be. When you stand, you just have to limber up the joints before you can walk a bit.”

  Arielle looks confused. Doc turns those piercing green eyes on her instead of me, and I can breathe again without them cutting holes right through me. “As Ms. Delwen said, Jake’s simply aging naturally, but we can use an X-Ray to find out if he has arthritis and rule out anything else.”

  As he speaks, he reaches over without looking. His hand passes so close to my jaw I feel it raising prickly goosebumps all over.

  I have to fight not to flinch away from the surprising heat it rouses.

  He’s not paying attention to me, though. He’s busy stroking his hand down Jake’s back, his long, capable workman’s fingers moving over the dog’s body with a touch so gentle it doesn’t seem to belong to the man looking rather icily at the dog’s owner with his expression completely blank, turning his face into a princely mask of frost.

  I’m so caught up looking at him that I don’t realize when he starts to draw his hand back from Jake – and that hand grazes my jaw.

  Completely accidental, but it sends a jolt through me.

  This time, I jerk back like I did something wrong. Like he’s going to think I leaned into him deliberately and tried to make that happen and I—

  Oh, crud.

  My heel turns.

  My stomach drops.

  And my balance tilts sideways, because I might just be the clumsiest girl on earth and it’s a miracle I can even walk in flats.

  I get half a second of the world flashing by – and Jake staring down at me with an alarmed bark, bouncing up on his paws like he’ll dash to save me, if only he had hands – before I’m dropping, crashing toward the floor.

  But the bruising impact of tile on skin never comes.

  A powerful arm from nowhere hooks around my waist, catching me so firmly I don’t even have a chance to feel the whiplash as Doc captures me in a strong hold and smoothly loops me up so swiftly my head reels. I blink dizzily, clutch at his arm, gasping, my stomach and my heart bouncing against each other.

  For just a second we’re pressed together.

  My entire body molded against his side, like we’ve been melted together by pure heat. It’s like leaning against a stone pillar, only stone doesn’t move with subtle flexions of muscle as he stabilizes my footing like he’s maneuvering a doll.

  Holy hell. I can’t decide whether I’m grateful or if I’ll never live this down.

  I might as well be a mannequin, I guess. I’m not breathing, not moving, my limbs locked with...surprise. Yup, that’s it. Surprise.

  Because the last thing I’ll do is admit I felt anything else.

  Or maybe my bones are just searing to ash from the scorching, hateful glare Arielle gives me, while I stare dazedly up at Doc with my ears burning and my eyes wide.

  “Miss Delwen,” he says coolly, looking down at me with his expression never changing. “Are you all right?”

  I suck in a sharp, cold breath that practically slaps me across the face with its sting, breaking my trance. Oh.

  Oh, God. I nearly just faceplanted the floor right in front of my new boss and a customer.

  I can’t look at either of them. I brace my hands against Doc’s arm and push away, managing somehow to keep my balance – if only because I switch to clutching Jake, hugging the massive dog and burying my face in his warm fur. I’m even grateful for the warm, wet tongue rolling over my cheek reassuringly.

  “I’m fine,” I mumble. “Just tripped.”

  Over empty floor. Right.

  Please, I beg. Please let it go.

  There’s silence then, before Arielle reaches over to scratch Jake’s jaw, making his tail lash so hard it’s a miracle he doesn’t take off like a helicopter.

  “So, what should I do, Doc?” she asks. “Does he need medication?”

  “Ms. Delwen?” Doc asks mildly.

  I swallow what feels like a boulder in my throat. I’m hardly in any mood to talk right now, when I could slink under the exam table and die from sheer mortification.

  I’m not qualified for this after all. I’m not –

  Oh.

  That’s when it hits me – what he’s doing.

  He’s pointedly deferring to me, intentionally, because Arielle here dismissed my assessment as unimportant and turned to him instead.

  And maybe he’s giving me a chance to save face after that little mishap.

  I don’t even know what to say.

  I’m just a tech; he’s the vet. The Menagerie is his practice, and with so much more experience I’d rather defer to him, too. I know my stuff, sure, but not so well that he’s got to be that kind of sadist just to make her uncomfortable for doubting me.

  But I can feel them both looking at me, waiting, so I raise my head from the dog’s flank, turning to face them, and clear my throat, making myself speak.

  Suddenly I’m the uncomfortable one, and I duck my head again, using Jake to hide as I rub my cheek to his ruff.

  At least he’s happy.

  “Everything in the house should be at his level,” I say.

  I start off mumbling, but manage to smooth out as I pick up steam, plucking things from memory and trying to think what’s best for Jake. “That’s true even if it’s arthritis and not just old age. Getting up and down from sofas and beds will be harder for him, but you can make it easier by making sure any high places where he likes to rest or play have a special low-impact doggie stair he can climb, and by moving things he needs regularly low to the ground. That way he doesn’t have to strain himself by climbing, or deal with any pain from dropping down.”

  “Very good, Ms. Delwen. I couldn’t have said it better.” There’s not a single touch of bright approval in that husky growl, but he’s got a sort of velvet-chocolate voice that makes your name sound like something dirty even though it’s nearly toneless. I just hide my blush against Jake, and the dog leans on me hard with a content whine.

  Then I freeze.

  For just a second, Doc reaches over to stroke the dog’s fur again and stops just short of touching my cheek a second time, close enough to make my skin shiver, before his hand falls away. Thankfully, I manage not to spin myself into another fall this time, but...

  Nuh-uh. Nope. No.

  I don’t know anything about Doc. Anything about men.

  And the last thing I’m going to do is start getting breathless over my weird, imposing new boss when I haven’t even finished working here one full day.

  Especially when I still don’t understand why he hired me, after nothing but a couple emails and a phone interview that took less than ten minutes.

  Doc tilts his head, regarding Jake’s ow
ner over his glasses. “I’ll prescribe an oral anti-inflammatory that should help Jake’s mobility, and we should discuss changes in his diet. Certain foods, especially foods with grain additives, can increase inflammation of the joints and ligaments.”

  Arielle nods, looking at the St. Bernard worriedly. “O-okay. I didn’t realize...will it be hard to get him to take the pills?”

  I half expect to hear a curt Ms. Delwen, deferring to me again – but instead Doc’s voice softens as he speaks not to the woman, but to the dog, his touch warm as he scratches behind Jake’s ears. “You’ll be a good boy,” he says, coaxing as if the dog can understand him.

  Heck, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe Jake can, when his tail wags twice as hard and makes me shake since I’m still leaning against the massive St. Bernard – and massive definitely isn’t a word that would describe me.

  “With a few pill pouches, you won’t even know any medicine’s going down the hatch, now will you?” Doc rubs the dog’s head briskly.

  Jake answers with a resounding, confident bark, and his owner breaks out in a smile. “Hear that, Jakie? You’re going to be okay,” she says. “You really are.”

  “He absolutely will,” Doc answers with smooth confidence, then extends one arm gracefully toward the door. “Let me talk to my receptionist and write up your prescription. We’ll schedule his X-rays for this week, as well.”

  She nods quickly, then lets Doc shepherd her from the room. He follows her out but pauses for a second, looking back at me.

  Just a sliver of green visible over his shoulder, shadowed by the sardonic arch of his brows. I hold completely still, practically hiding behind the St. Bernard, eyes wide and waiting for him to say something.