Chapter Twenty-Four

A day later.

Matt clenched his jaw. All day, he’d been in a piss poor mood. At the copier place in Clarkesville, he sat at a computer station and hit print. He took the color copies to the clerk at the counter. “I’d like this bound.” He gave the man specific directions on the cover and type of binding.

“It’ll be ready in an hour.”

“An hour?” There wasn’t anyone else in the place. Matt drummed his fingers on the counter for a beat, then nodded. “I’ll be back.”

In Clarkesville, his normal business amounted to doing banking, if Miller wasn’t available. Matt had a thought, besides this surprise that he had planned for Carolina, he wanted to get the little firecracker something to remember him by. His pulse thudded in his ears at the idea of her leaving.

He wanted to punch the nearest wall. It took several rounds of self-talk each morning to get his head screwed on straight. He did a neck roll, convinced this wasn’t the end of them. Okay, if Carolina wanted to go back to a life of traveling around in that van of hers, what were his choices?

He couldn’t chain her to his bed. The thought rolled around his brain for half a beat. Unfortunately breaking a federal law or three came with stiff penalties. At what felt like the edge, Matt laughed darkly at his warped sense of humor.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

It was too early for a drink and he took out his cell phone, scrolling for a shop. Not the usual and he snorted, thinking that if anyone would have the goods, it was Brandon. Matt pressed dial. When his brother answered, he cut to the chase, “Dude, need some intel. I’m in Clarkesville.”

“What are we talkin’?”

“Bedroom.”

Brandon’s deep chuckle said it all. “Go to The Silk Saloon. It’s off Fourth and Devonshire. Tell them you’re associated with the S & L if you want a discount.”

His brother owned a highly popular bar, Spurs and Leather. It catered to distinctive tastes, not that he’d take Carolina there for what he had in mind. “Thanks. I owe you.”

“If you want any pointers,” Brandon hedged. “Just let—”

“We’re good,” he interrupted, unwilling to discuss his bedroom affairs that involved Carolina with anyone, including his brother.

After an hour of shopping at what amounted to an exclusive sex store, Matt exited with a bag of all sorts of goodies.

His cell phone chimed. “Results delayed.” He pressed the icon for Carolina’s number. She picked up and he asked, “What happened?”

“The laboratory results are gonna be late. I’m sorry,” she said.

“How late?”

“They’ll be out by noon tomorrow. I called when they still hadn’t arrived. There was a problem with one sample. Nothing major, but the results are pushed back a day.”

“One day. Nothing we can do until then,” he said. “At least it isn’t hotter than hell.” They hadn’t had a cow die in the last two days, since a rainy stretch of weather had begun.

“Yeah, it’s odd that climate might have some bearing on the cattle. But stress can definitely influence hormones.”

“I’m heading back. Need anything?”

“Nope.”

“What are you up to?”

“Still working on my client list. I’m up to Tennessee and a couple of ranches are interested. I’ve cut my rates, offering an introductory price,” she said sounding upbeat. “You were right.”

“Glad to be of service.” He gritted his teeth at the mention of her working far, far away.

“See you soon,” she said.

“In thirty.” Or less. He heard the trill of Carolina’s cell, which meant an incoming call.

Come high water, he was bound and determined to deal with this situation. He had no problem with her being a mobile vet as long as Evermore was a point on her Google map. But each time he thought of addressing their situation, he got tongue-tied. It was pure bullshit. What red-blooded jackass couldn’t speak his mind? Obviously, his kind. He popped the trunk of his car and placed the bag inside. The best way to get close to Carolina was naked and in her face. They’d admitted things last night. This evening he intended an encore.

Matt picked up his order at the printer then he got on the road, shifting gears on his way back to Evermore, back to Dr. Carolina Rodriguez. It took twenty-five minutes and he parked at the rear door to his office. He grabbed the white plastic bag from the printing place and entered, taking off his hat. The closet door was shut.

Without making a sound, he came through, glancing over at Carolina. She was typing away, trying to get her business up and running. From what he’d gathered she broken away from some dipshit who’d gotten one over on her by running her into the ground as a sub-contractor.

“Here,” he said. “Knock yourself out.”

She took off her glasses and frowned. “What’s this?”

“If you open the bag, you’ll find out.” He dug out the jump drive from his pocket and set it next to the keyboard on the desk. “That’s part of it.” He watched her expression change.

Carolina removed the bound copy that had her name on the front page in a large bold font along with her cell phone number. She thumbed through the business plan that he’d developed for her. It included photographs on Evermore, as well. Things she could use on social media. It had been hard to choose which ones but he’d managed an assortment of Dr. Rodriguez: riding Skyfall, collecting samples, observing the cattle, even during a difficult calving. There was an official letter of recommendation and a list of references. He’d included the name and private telephone number of his banker, if and when she wanted financial backing. All the things he’d found a business required when it wanted to expand.

“You did this? For me?”

He scratched the side of his neck and replied, “Yeah.” For a second he couldn’t tell if Carolina was upset or overjoyed.

“You’re some kinda wonderful,” she yelled, jumping out of the chair. Caro hugged him, pressing her tear-stained face to his. Smiling, he finally understood how a person could get a contact high. “Thank you. Thank you,” she said. “No one has ever done anything as nice as this, for me.”

“There’s more,” he murmured, kissing her sweet mouth.

“More?”

“Tonight,” he replied. “You, me, and I bought a few things.”