“Hey, do we have a few minutes after lunch?”

Blane looked up from his sandwich at Gregory. “All the dailies are done.” The routine yearly exams, vaccinations and deworming, prescription refills and food prep took up a good part of their mornings. Even in a small zoo where vets acted partly as keepers, there was always work to be done. “But I’ve got a lab report to do, and blood counts. Why?”

Gregory frowned. “Dianne told me all the vets and techs are being called in for a meeting after lunch.”

All-department meetings were never good. A chill ran down Blane’s spine as he assessed the possibilities. He’d just gotten permission to ask Falcon to help with the next animal painting session—surely if someone had a problem with that, it would be a one-on-one meeting. “Right. Well, I guess we’ll find out. Do you know what’s up?”

“No idea.” Gregory sat opposite him, then nodded. “Do you mind company today?”

Blane opened his mouth to ask why he wouldn’t, then almost cringed. He’d had enough days being surly in the lunch room. Gregory had always given him space, but this week, he’d felt a little less… well, under pressure.

“Yeah, of course. Go ahead. Sorry if I’ve ever… you know.” Blane waved his sandwich. “Bitten your head off.”

Gregory laughed under his breath as he eyed Blane. “Not around the animals. That’s all that matters. But thanks. Where’s this new, improved Blane coming from? His new boyfriend rubbing off on him?”

“Probably,” Blane admitted with a laugh. “I didn’t even yell at the woman pounding on the glass earlier. I just told her to imagine someone knocking on her bedroom window while she slept and she got all red and stopped.”

“You didn’t bite anyone’s head off? Impressive. I’ll believe it when I see it,” Gregory told him.

“Well, she didn’t understand what it does to the animals, I don’t think. People are desperate for attention. Maybe to validate that the animals like them and find them interesting.” Blane nodded philosophically. “Makes the zoo feel less weird, I suppose, if it’s a mutual curiosity.”

“Okaaay,” Gregory answered, his lips quirking. “If you’ve been reading up on your Foucault on lunch hours, I might start giving them a miss.”

Blane snorted. “Thanks.” He was done lunch anyway, so he threw away his trash. “What time’s the meeting?”

“In ten minutes.”

“May as well walk over there early.”

He fell into step beside his coworker, his mind already on the afternoon’s chores. The morning tended to be filled with scheduled and routine work, and then helping keepers prepare lunch. In the afternoon came the fun stuff like animal enrichment—and the less-fun emergencies.

But every day was different. Falcon seemed to get that now, even if he’d looked at it as a nine-to-five job at first.

All his thoughts came back to Falcon. No matter how hard he focused on work, the moment idle thoughts crept in, they led back to his new boyfriend. It was probably normal, not even a week into dating, but for an otherwise logical man, it was sort of surprising.

Luckily, or unluckily, he had a distraction now. As he and Gregory found seats in the administration room, they were shortly joined by the other vets and vet techs. Nobody seemed to know what was going on, judging by the worried and puzzled expressions.

“Thanks for turning up,” Dianne addressed them when everyone was there. “I hate to do this out of the blue, but circumstances have come up. We need to schedule some weekend training within the next month—mandatory—to review care standards.”

That was like dropping a bomb of accusation in the middle of the room. Murmurs and exclamations swept the room.

“Not because I think anything is going wrong,” Dianne added quickly. “I won’t say it’s routine, but we should also be prepared for inspections this week. Someone’s dropped a word in the ear of the state humane society that… well. I won’t repeat gossip, but certain individuals seem to think we’re not up to scratch here.”

“Fuck that,” Gregory said, rising to his feet. For once, it was Blane pulling him down and squeezing his arm to remind him that he was in the workplace. “I mean… sorry, but that is ridiculous. We get dragged over the coals for doing our jobs like always?”

“It’s not my call,” Dianne told him solemnly. “I have your backs. But there’s a food chain, and I’m not at the top.”

Jolene, one of the vet techs, crossed her arms and glared at the floor. “I just went through my continuing education modules.”

“I know. It’s going to be inconvenient, but we have got to prove that we go above and beyond like we all know we do.” Dianne sighed. “The more proof I have—education credits,” she gestured toward Jolene, “and satisfactory inspections, and so on, the better.”

They didn’t know anything more by the end of the meeting. All they established was that Dianne wasn’t budging on the recertification requirements, and she wasn’t saying who had the problem. If it was someone from another zoo, or the state inspector, it would be much more important, as far as Blane was concerned. Some random administrator? He didn’t care. He knew he did the best job he could.

He shut it off for the afternoon as he went about work, pouring his attention into helping Gregory safely tranquilize one of the giraffes so they could x-ray her leg and diagnose her ongoing limp. It was grueling work at times, but better than working in private practice lifting eighty-pound German Shepherds onto operating tables unassisted.

By the end of the day, though, he and Gregory were sweaty and exhausted.

“Oh, God. I have a date, too,” Blane remembered as he washed up.

Gregory laughed. “Hope you brought a change of clothes.”

“Of course.” Blane always did, but those clothes had become a little fancier since seeing Falcon. Collared shirts instead of t-shirts, say. Not too over-the-top. But he still smiled as he did up the buttons.

“Well, who knows what all that was about?” Gregory grabbed his jacket and car keys. “What are we gonna do?”

“Carry on like always,” Blane shrugged. It was obvious to him. “If anyone has a problem, they’ll bring it up with me. But you and I know we do our damn jobs.”

Gregory slowly relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. All right. Catch you later. Have fun tonight.”

“I will,” Blane promised. He deserved that much after today.

* * *

“How was your day?”

It was the question Blane had been preparing for on the short drive over to the little Italian place he and Falcon had agreed upon.

“Oh, a lot happened, but nothing worth writing home about,” Blane answered, dodging rather than lying. He didn’t let his personal life bleed into his work with the animals; he sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin the mood and let his work stress bleed into his personal life, either.

Falcon furrowed his brows. “Sounds… intriguing.”

“Not really,” Blane laughed. “You?”

“Oh, I heard from my sister’s friend and we finalized the contract for the commissions.”

“That’s exciting!” Blane exclaimed. “Who would have thought?”

“I know. Apparently the guy’s wife just adores them. Some people are obsessed with pandas, some people love dolphins…” Falcon laughed.

Blane chuckled. “And some people like naked mole-rats, I’m sure.”

Falcon nearly spat his ice water. “Hardly appropriate conversation for dinner.”

“It’s not the fanciest Italian place in Knoxville. Man, that’s an oxymoron.”

Falcon leaned in. “Any place with you is fancy.”

“I’m not sure you would have said that a couple hours ago while I was trying to get a giraffe’s leg up.” Blane grinned as Falcon laughed. “But thanks anyway.”

“You’re in a good mood,” Falcon commented.

Faking it ’til I make it. “I do my best,” Blane answered. “Garlic bread? If I get it, we have to share.”

Falcon laughed again. “That feels like a deal with the devil.” He looked happy, though, as he closed the menu. “When are we meeting up with your friends again?”

It was the second or third time he’d brought it up since the weekend, and Blane was beginning to suspect a case of nerves. He smiled gently. “Saturday.” Assuming the training isn’t this weekend. “Why?”

“Just checking.” Falcon opened the menu again and flipped it shut, fidgeting with the pages.

Before Blane could ask any more questions, the waiter arrived to take their orders. By the time he was gone, it felt weird to pursue the subject, and Falcon was talking again anyway.

“We should make this a regular thing. Choose a different restaurant and go there, sometime during the week. It’ll break up your work week and… well, the days of the week aren’t real for me, but sort of mine, too,” he laughed.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” Blane gazed at Falcon. “You know, I was worried about this stage. The early dating stage.”

Falcon propped his chin on his fist. “Why?”

“Worried about not knowing what to do. Arranging everything, figuring out how often we should see each other…”

Falcon leaned in. “Nothing has to change because we put a label on it. We can keep going on dates a few times a week, staying over sometimes, like before.”

Blane nodded slowly. He had a point there. “I guess that makes sense. God, I feel like I’m a teen again, trying to figure out how all this works.”

“How do you think I feel?” Falcon laughed, fiddling with his utensils. “I’ve never had a boyfriend in public. And now…”

Blane reached over the table to touch Falcon’s hand, and left his hand there. “I’m happy to show you off.”

“And to let me in,” Falcon murmured, his gaze flickering up to Blane’s face.

Blane tried to remain inscrutable as he nodded. “That, too, I guess.”

“My grumpy little vet,” Falcon added with a teasing wink.

Blane scoffed. “Here comes the garlic bread. We’ll see if you want to get cozy after that.”

“Always,” Falcon winked, and Blane’s heart lifted.

Everything will sort itself out, somehow. I can believe that when I’m with him.