Kylie went walking up to the front door of the clinic the next afternoon, wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans before reaching for the door handle. Today had been exhausting – all she’d managed to do was eat more sandwiches and take more naps between last night and now – but she felt like she’d been running a marathon. After a week of almost no movement whatsoever, walking between the bed and the kitchen was a bigger struggle than she really liked to admit.

And now, she’d managed to walk her happy ass all the way down to the clinic, three blocks of walking in the bright sunshine and everything. She was damn happy to be out and about, even if there was no way Dr. Whitaker would hire her as a receptionist, considering she had neither receptionist nor animal experience. This was a fool’s errand, there was no doubt about it.

But on the other hand, he was actually hiring – not a small consideration for a town the size of Sawyer – and the clinic was within walking distance of her mom’s house, also not a small consideration for someone who didn’t own a car.

So, it was worth a try. After this, she would walk over to the Shop ‘N Go and see if they were wanting cashiers or grocery cart chasers or something. No matter what, she wanted to be able to go home that evening with at least a job prospect to share with her mom.

She plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the air conditioned building, the bell overhead jingling, alerting Dr. Whitaker to her presence.

Except…

This can’t be Dr. Whitaker.

Because instead of an old man coming out of the back, a pimply teenage boy not even old enough to shave came walking out. He tugged on the brim of his baseball cap nervously when he spotted her. “Yeah?” he grunted, picking up a pen from the desk and clicking the end rapidly.

“Umm…I’m here about the job opening. Is Dr. Whitaker available?” She tried to keep her voice calm and in control, as if this was normal to go apply for a job. As if she wasn’t at all nervous.

The kid turned towards the back and hollered, “Adam, some chick is here for you!”

Kylie did her best to cover her startled snort of laughter with the fakest cough ever, so when the kid looked at her suspiciously, she just shot him a bright smile.

One guess as to why Dr. Whitaker wants a proper receptionist, and the first three guesses don’t count.

If this was the bar the vet would measure her performance by, she could stop being nervous now. Anything short of accidentally murdering a patient would probably be seen as an improvement.

Dr. Whitaker came walking up from the back, and Kylie had the strongest sense of déjà vu wash over her at the sight of him.

This can’t be Dr. Whitaker.

She remembered the vet – she’d met him when he came to her fifth grade class and did a presentation on the animal sciences and what it was like to be a vet. He’d been old. She remembered that much. Well, that and how pretty his horse was.

But the man standing in front of her with an easy smile on his face, putting his hand out to shake hers…he wasn’t old. He was older than her, sure, but not old. Shouldn’t he have a potbelly and whiskers and ruddy cheeks and white hair? A veterinarian version of Santa Claus?

She felt a little off-balance as she put her hand out and grasped his. “I’m Kylie VanLueven,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, even as electrical sparks went shooting up her arm from his warm, calloused hand. “You’re hiring?”

Nervous. So damn nervous. Her heart was racing and her breath was short and she was just staring up at this monstrously tall guy and shaking his hand and…

She finally realized that they’d been shaking for longer than was probably normal and yanked her hand away. A smile played around the edges of Dr. Whitaker’s lips as he drawled, “Nice to meet you. Carol VanLueven’s daughter?”

She nodded, smiling confidently. Fake it ‘til you make it, sister. “You know my mom?”

“Everyone knows your mom,” Dr. Whitaker said with an easy chuckle. “She sure does a lot for this community. We’re lucky to have her. So, you’re interested in the receptionist job, eh?”

“Yeah.” She wiped the palms of her hands on her thighs again. She didn’t expect to be this nervous.

She didn’t expect…him. Dr. Adam Whitaker, country vet for Sawyer, Idaho, was quite possibly the cutest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.

No, she didn’t expect that at all.