Animal Attraction by Jill Shalvis

chaos and she felt right at home, the noise settling over her like a security blanket.
    In her not-too-distant past, her day had been filled with grumpy, sick, tired, distraught, rude people trying to get medical attention. She’d discovered that she preferred animals any day of the week. They didn’t talk back, they didn’t scream in your face if you were five minutes late getting them into their appointment.
    Peanut the parrot sat in her opened cage, eyeballing the room with interest, occasionally squawking out a “mew” or “wuff wuff” because she liked to be a part of every conversation. Behind Jade’s chair lay Gertie, Dell’s ten-year-old “baby.” The St. Bernard liked the chaos as much as Jade did and had decided she liked hanging out with Jade.
    Gertie was currently snoring over the din.
    The stray kitten was still with her and had gotten very attached to the carrier that Jade had been using to transport her to and from the loft. Jade kept it in a position of honor on her credenza, door open.
    From the carrier, the kitten loftily surveyed her kingdom, looking down her nose at the waiting patients.
    Jade had named her Beans because . . . well, she wasn’t exactly sure but the kitten seemed to like it.
    “She still here?” Dell asked, coming through the front room holding a chart.
    “Just until she gets fattened up a little.”
    Dell just smiled, sure and confident and smelling amazing, damn him. “I am going to give her up,” she said. Tomorrow.
    Okay, so maybe next week. It had to be sooner than later because Jade was going back to Chicago.
    At some point.
    “Would it be so bad to want to keep something in your life?” he asked.
    She laughed. “Okay, Mr. Pot. Meet Kettle.”
    “I have animals.”
    “Just not women. At least not permanent ones.” She immediately clamped her mouth shut, with no idea where that had come from. With a shake of her head, she turned back to her computer.
    Dell stepped to her side, but before he could say a word, Keith, their animal tech, squished in between them, reaching for the sign-in sheet with his usual cluelessness. He brought the patients to the exam rooms for Dell and took notes and stats. He divided a look between Dell and Jade. “What?”
    “Nothing,” Jade said and nudged Dell out of the way.
    When he was gone, Keith looked at her. “We in trouble?”
    “No.” They weren’t in trouble. She was in trouble, all by herself.
    Keith sighed in relief. He was a twenty-four-year-old mountain biker and mountain bum. He was great with the animals but more forgetful than anyone she’d ever met, and he moved slower than molasses. “Dude,” he said—just like he did every time Jade passed him in the hallway, assisting him in bringing the animals to the back. “You in a race?”
    “No, but you could pretend to be.”
    Keith merely grinned. “You know what you need?”
    Yes. Yes, she knew exactly what she needed.
    “You need yoga. Or Xanax.”
    “What I need is you to move it.”
    “Move it,” Peanut repeated.
    Keith grinned. “I only move it on the mountain or in my bed.”
    Jade sighed but kept cracking the whip. By pushing the patients along, continuing to fill and empty the exam rooms as fast as Dell worked his way through them, she made up even more lost time. This she used to help Adam as needed, who was working from the center today as well. He gave a S&R training class in the morning, and then puppy obedience classes all afternoon, and Jade helped him stay as organized as she could.
    Eventually, sometime after five o’clock, the place slowed down. The last of the patients were seen. Jade was straightening up the front room when Bessie arrived from the cleaning service.
    Actually, Bessie was the cleaning service. She came at the end of the day and sometimes at the lunch break as needed. “That’s my job,” she snapped at Jade, who was straightening out the waiting room.
    “Move it,” Peanut said.
    Bessie eyeballed the parrot. “I know how