I hate keeping my patients waiting, even if it was just sixteen minutes. I do feel better after eating something, though.

“How is Daisy?” I ask as I walk into room two. Daisy, a Great Dane weighing in at almost two hundred pounds, hurries over to say hello to me.

“I think she might have eaten socks. Again,” her owner, Alec, says with a sigh. “And she obliterated my carpet and subfloor the other day.”

“Did you leave her alone all day again?” I ask as I feel around on her abdomen.

“I have to work,” he insists, “so I can pay for all the damage she’s doing to my house.”

“She needs chew toys that are safe for her,” I remind him and frown. “Yeah, there’s something here.”

“Shit,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead. “Another surgery?”

“Let me do an X-ray to see how big it is, but if it might obstruct her intestines, yes, she’ll need surgery again.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I can keep her.”

“I warned you when you adopted her that she would grow to be the size of a small horse and that she would be difficult for the first few years until she mellowed out.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t believe me.”

“I thought the kids would help with her more,” he admits. He’d divorced from his wife, and as an apology, he bought his kids a dog. “Not sure why, considering they only see me on the weekends.”

“Maybe Daisy could go back and forth with the kids?” I suggest, but he shakes his head.

“My ex is allergic,” he says. “She’s already pissed that the kids come home with dog hair on their stuff.”

“If you decide to rehome her, please don’t surrender her to the animal shelter,” I plead with him. “The odds of her being adopted there are slim, due to her size.”

“I’ll let you know first,” he says with a nod. “But let’s find out what the damages are today.”

“Okay, I’m going to take her back for an X-ray real quick, and then I’ll bring her back to you.”

He nods, and I take Daisy’s leash, leading her through the back door of the exam room to our work area. This is where we do X-rays, blood draws, and kennel the patients that have to stay with us longer than a few hours.

“Daisy needs an abdominal X-ray,” I inform Susan. “Can you help me with this real quick?”

“Sure,” she says, setting aside what she was doing and walking with me to the X-ray machine. As usual, she talks while we work. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why do we have to change the way we store the surgical instruments?”

I frown at her over Daisy’s back as I adjust the camera on the dog’s belly.

“We don’t.”

“According to Dr. Crawford, we do.”

I blink, confused. “Did he tell you that?”

She nods as we take the photo and then adjust Daisy and the machine for another view. “He was looking at the instruments and told us to switch it up because it would be more convenient for you and the other doctors during surgery. I’m sorry if the way we’ve been doing it has been a problem for you during procedures.”

I take a deep breath and then blow it out, trying to keep my temper at bay. “You don’t need to change anything. I like it exactly the way it is. Hell, I trained you all to do it that way because it’s the way I prefer it.”

She nods, clearly not happy that Jace made himself at home in my clinic, and I agree with her.

Once Daisy is finished with the X-ray, I turn to Susan. “Will you please take her back into room two. I’ll be there in just a few moments to go over the X-ray with Alec. I’m going to have a quick chat with Jace.”

“You bet,” she says, leading a happy Daisy away from me.

I go in search of Jace and find him in my operating room, looking under the sink.

“It’s really clean under here,” he says without looking at me. “I’m impressed.”

“Surgery requires cleanliness,” I remind him, and he glances up in surprise.

“I thought you were Susan.”

“No.” I prop my hands on my hips. “What are you doing, Jace?”

“Just looking around,” he says casually. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Well, I do.” His head whips up in surprise. “Jace, you’re not a vet. I need my surgical instruments the way they are for the kind of surgery I do. This is my clinic, not Seattle General.”

“Hey, I was just—”

“I know,” I interrupt. “But I need you to go, please. I’ll see you tonight.”

He holds up his hands, clearly hurt, and marches away, through the door and out of the clinic without a word.

I feel bad for about three seconds. He was just trying to help. But he can’t just come in here and take over. This is my business. This is my staff.

So, I hurry back to give Alec the bad news of another surgery to remove socks from his dog’s abdomen, determined to worry about Jace later.

I’m bone-tired. It’s three hours past the normal end to my day. I had to perform surgery on poor Daisy, and had two more emergencies come in.

I’m on call tonight, and I’m praying that no one has any needs overnight. I could use a good night’s sleep.

First, though, I need to make up with my boyfriend. Because even though I wasn’t in the wrong, I did hurt his feelings, and I hate that with every fiber of my being.

I pull into Jace’s driveway and walk through his door, carrying two cobb salads from our favorite place. I figured we could both use something healthy after our burgers and fries for lunch.

“Hello?” I call out, but I don’t see Jace. The lights are on in his kitchen and living room, so I set the salads on the island and walk back to the bedroom, hoping to find him there.

And boy, do I find him.

He’s doing pull-ups on a contraption that he’s attached to his doorframe, easily moving up and down in smooth motions. His feet are tucked up so they don’t brush the floor.

He’s topless.

And I’m immediately turned on to a level ten.

“Well, hello there,” I say, crossing my arms and watching as he finishes three more, then he stands, breathing hard. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his olive skin.

I want to lick him.

“Hey,” he says. He doesn’t exactly seem ecstatic to see me.

“I brought dinner.”

“I ate,” he says. “After you texted and said you’d be late.”

“Okay, your salad will keep.”

He nods and moves into push-ups. I’m silent and enjoy the flex of his back and how his core engages as he pounds out twenty-five of them. The dimples above his ass show above the low-slung basketball shorts he’s wearing.

Good lord, the man is sex on a cracker.

When he stands again and still doesn’t talk to me, I rush to him and wrap my arms around his waist, holding on tightly because I just can’t stand the silence from him. We don’t do the silent treatment.

He doesn’t hug me back, but he doesn’t push me away either, so I take that as a win.

“I need you to talk to me,” I murmur against his skin. “I don’t even care that you’re sweaty. I’m not moving until you talk to me.”

He finally, finally, buries his lips in my hair and kisses my head, and my world is set to rights again.

“I’m going crazy,” he admits quietly. “I know I have projects here, and things I could do, but I need to work, Joy.”

“I know.” I pull away and tip my head back so I can look at his face. I hate seeing the torture in his gorgeous grey eyes. “I’m so sorry this is happening.”

“What if I can’t operate anymore?”

I scowl. “What?”

“What if I’ve spent too much time away and I just can’t do it?”

“That’s not even an option,” I reply immediately. “Jace, it’s been two weeks. You are the leading cardiothoracic surgeon in the fucking country. You haven’t forgotten it.”