Nicole Hymas had woken with the song she now sang in the back of her mind. Every morning, without fail, she woke with a new song in her head. Sometimes a song from church—something the choir was working on. Sometimes a song she’d heard on the radio. Sometimes a childhood nursery rhyme.

No matter what it was, her song of the day stuck with her no matter what she was doing. Today’s song was “Happy Birthday.” She hated the song, especially because she’d just had her fortieth birthday, alone save for her aging parents.

Sure, her siblings had called, but more out of obligation than that they actually knew her or cared about her. She didn’t blame them, not really. Her closest sibling in age was already fifty-one. Forty was no big deal. Her oldest brother had turned sixty last fall.

Nicole was a caboose baby, a child that had come along after her mom and dad thought their family was already complete. She still felt like that most days—an afterthought. She sighed as she finished checking the patient rooms, that sense of disquiet that had been raging in her for the past month since her birthday rearing its ugly head.

Help me make it through today, she prayed as she returned to her office. Then she’d at least have the weekend to figure out how to tolerate the man who’d rolled into town a year ago in his fancy black truck and stolen the clinic out from under her. It was a process she had to complete every couple of months as she found flaw after flaw in the gorgeous Boone Carver.

She almost scoffed at the ludicrous way she’d classified him as good looking. But he was. And he knew he was, which really put lemons in Nicole’s stomach. She just needed to stop thinking about him. Just stop—which would be a lot easier if his bass voice didn’t reach right into her office every time he called for an animal to “Come on back” with him.

Nicole adjusted the scrubs she wore, wondering for the millionth time why she didn’t dress like the office administrator she was. Foolish hope, she supposed, but had never dared admit out loud. Plus, it made dealing with her mother’s illness a lot easier once she left the clinic and returned to her childhood home to check on her parents.

She swiped her bangs out of her face, the air conditioning in the ancient building that housed the clinic clearly on the fritz again. “Joanne,” she called. “Can you call the maintenance department about the air conditioner?”

“Already did,” the redhead said, causing a smile to form on Nicole’s face. Joanne reminded Nicole of herself. A real go-getter. Someone who’d started volunteering at the clinic and had never left. That thought erased the smile from Nicole’s face, and she opened the budget spreadsheet she needed to finish before the fiscal year started at the beginning of July, just a few short weeks away.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Boone said, “How was my paperwork from last night?” He stepped all the way into her office, infusing the air with the scent of antiseptic and pine needles. An odd combination that satisfied Nicole nonetheless.

“I haven’t looked at it yet.”

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms, a frown marring his dark eyes and drawing his eyebrows down. He wore a full beard the color of chestnuts, and he kept his hair trim and neat on the sides, longer on the top. Nicole wanted to know what it would feel like to run her fingers through that hair, find out if it was a soft as it looked.

She swallowed, her imagination running wild again. She definitely needed a weekend to get Boone out of her system completely.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at your dog this morning,” he said, his voice low and barely reaching her ears. She was sure she hadn’t heard him right. He’d never apologized for anything, ever. When he’d completely forgotten the paperwork for the vaccinations he administered? Nothing. When she had to track him down and ask him what some of his words were? Just daggered glares. When she asked him which box she should check for the pet insurance? Growls and stabby pointing.

And he hadn’t really apologized this time either, though her mind flew back to their encounter at the dog park. He’d been wearing the flimsiest pair of shorts a man should be allowed to wear and a shirt that seemed two sizes too small and one of those compact hiking hydration backpacks. His dog had seemed very sweet and loyal, lying at Boone’s feet, and her heart had softened for about sixty seconds.

Still, jerks could have loyal dogs too.

“It’s fine,” she said.

“What’s with the name Valcor? Does it mean something to you?”

It did, but she didn’t want to tell him about her mom’s childhood dog, an Irish terrier that had been as sweet as the tea Nicole made every weekend. With her mom slipping further and further from her each day, Nicole needed something to hold onto. And if it was a silly dog’s name, she’d take it.

“Did you need something?” she asked instead of answering his question.

He straightened, his presence powerful and potent in such a small space. She needed him to leave right now. “I just wanted to check—never mind.” He turned and stormed out of her office, leaving behind his annoyance and the lingering scent of his woodsy cologne.

She focused back on her computer, mostly because Joanne had witnessed his departure and was now staring openly at Nicole with wide, green eyes. Finishing the budget was hopeless, because all Nicole could think about was how the Boone she’d seen at the dog park that morning was a completely different man than who strutted around here in that blasted white lab coat like he owned the place.

“He does own the place,” she said under her breath, wishing the words weren’t quite so bitter on her tongue.

She trimmed roses and rhododendrons with wild abandon, Boone’s parting words to her haunting her like phantoms.

Want to meet at the dog park again tomorrow?

They hadn’t agreed to meet today. Why did he use the word again?

Snip, snip, snip.

She collected all the flower heads in a ten-gallon bucket and dumped them in her green recycling can. Over and over she clipped and snipped and picked up the fallen heads until her entire backyard had been trimmed. Gardening had always soothed her. She didn’t have the most beautiful backyard in the entire town for no reason. She’d won an award from the city council a few years ago, and she booked at least three weddings in her backyard every summer.

She braced the apple tree with the wayward branch with a two-by-four, and moved through her mini-orchard checking her pink lady and fuji apple trees, her apricots, and her fig trees. Along the back fence she had peaches and pears, and she checked the watering line there to make sure these trees got their fair share of moisture leading into the summer heat. She’d made the mistake before in under-watering, and that had meant a lot of cultivating and worrying to bring those trees back to fruition.

Nicole ran her fingers along the tree bark, comfort threading through her at the beauty she found in nature. She found blooms so pretty, the way a fruit formed from a flower fascinating, the way life kept chugging along hopeful.

She exhaled, wishing she had half the beauty of the rose bushes she so lovingly tended to. Wishing she had someone to take care of her when she felt rundown and droopy. Taz and Valcor stuck to the patio, where she had their outdoor bowls, houses for each of them though they shared Taz’s, their cooling pads, and an assortment of outdoor furniture.

She got out the last of the sweet tea she’d brewed last weekend and stuck an organic meal in the microwave before taking everything out to the shady patio. This was the extent of the outdoors that Nicole liked, and she finally relaxed.

What time tomorrow? she texted to Boone, unsure of why she was perpetuating the conversation. When he’d asked at work, she’d said she’d text him later. That was why. Nicole did what Nicole said she’d do, whether that was stay in Three Rivers, where there were no prospects for her professionally or personally, to take care of her terminally ill mother, or send a text to a man she found infuriating and arrogant.

It’s my rest day, so whenever.

Nicole had no idea what a rest day was, though she suspected the running clothes he’d been wearing that morning had something to do with it. Maybe a training schedule?

You tell me.

She didn’t want to set the time. She wanted him to do it so she could say she couldn’t make it. Or did she want to make it? She wasn’t sure, and she reached back and undid the bun she’d kept her hair in all day, more confused than she’d ever been in her life.

Nine-thirty?

Nine-thirty came and went, and still Nicole couldn’t get herself to leave the house. Taz sat by the front door, waiting with a doleful look in his puggy eyes ever since Nicole had put on her shoes. She paced from the living room to the kitchen and back. She’d poured herself into a tight pair of pants and covered all the parts of her body she disliked with an oversized hoodie. She could go. Taz loved the park, though going up the stairs made Valcor sleep for hours.

“Should we go?” she asked the dogs. Valcor whined. Taz flopped down and peered up at her through his eyelashes.

“You liked that other dog, didn’t you? That’s it. I can’t keep you from your doggy friends.” She collected her waist pack with Taz’s ball, his lead line, and the pet waste bags. She shoved a handful of treats in her pocket and leashed Taz before scooping Valcor into her arms.

She made the several-blocks walk to the dog park in record time, arriving slightly sweaty and out of breath. She paused, trying to calm her heart rate as she looked for the tall frame of Boone.

He stood out among the other patrons at the park because of his beard and swoopy hair, both of which were extremely attractive to Nicole. She hadn’t dated in years, and she didn’t quite know what counted and what didn’t. She was at least twenty minutes late. Was this a date? Did people count a meeting at the bark park a date?

Might as well find out, she thought.

She watched Boone bend and pick up a ball before throwing it for his yellow lab, who sprinted after it with flapping ears. Nicole loosed Taz as soon as they went through the gate, and he sprinted toward Boone’s dog.

Boone chuckled and leaned down to pat her pug, who flopped on the ground like Boone’s hands were made of magic. Nicole had never been jealous of her dog before, but now she was. Her thoughts had turned traitorous on her.

Sure, maybe she’d thought about dating Boone before. He was a man—a single man, which wasn’t that easy to come by in Three Rivers—and extremely good-looking. And a veterinarian who’d had enough money to buy the clinic. But she’d never actually thought anything would come of her schoolgirl crush.

And yet, there he was, glancing up and smiling at her like he was happy to see her. The song she’d woken up with paraded through her mind. Jesus, take the wheel….

She could definitely use some divine help about now, especially because her mouth had decided to betray her too by smiling back.

He stole your clinic, she told herself to cover up the loud lyrics. He stole your clinic. He stole your clinic….