Then Came You by Jill Shalvis Page B

tradition—she threw her pillows at them.
    And then the book on her nightstand.
    Wyatt ducked in time, but the book knocked a lamp over. Of course it broke, and then Darcy cut her finger on the glass. They yelled at each other over the lamp, the glass, Darcy’s cut finger, and then Wyatt shoved Zoe’s present beneath her nose.
    A gift certificate to an entire day’s pampering at the spa.
    She went still, and then, oh Christ, her eyes filled. She chucked her last pillow at him. “How did you know I needed this more than my next breath?” she demanded.
    Wyatt smiled and tossed her a box of tissues.
    Darcy punched him on the arm. “Don’t you dare take credit for knowing,” she said, and then turned to Zoe. “He knew because you left us a very specific list, as you damn well know. You e-mailed, texted, and put it on Facebook.”
    Zoe laughed. “Oh, yeah.” She held out her arms.
    Wyatt and Darcy both took a mistrustful step back. Well, Wyatt did. Darcy, gripping her walker, ducked reflexively.
    â€œNo, I mean it,” Zoe said, and waggled her fingers in a “come here” gesture. “I want a damn hug.”
    â€œYou need a Midol to go with it?” Darcy asked warily.
    â€œNo!”
    Hoping to avoid yet another physical altercation, losing any more furniture—or his head—Wyatt shoved Darcy ahead of him. Naturally, the “hug” included some noogies and lots of bone crunching, but hey, there was no more bloodshed.
    And then he heard the telltale sniff. Grimacing, he pulled back and gave Zoe a pained look.
“Again?”
    She swiped a tear. “Dammit! I didn’t expect to get all sappy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
    â€œIt’s because you’re old now,” Darcy said.
    Wyatt wrapped an arm around her neck, covering her mouth with his hand.
    â€œMmffl!” Darcy said.
    â€œZip it, I’m saving your life,” he said. He looked at Zoe. “You okay?”
    â€œYeah.” She sent them each a watery smile. “I know this is a birthday, but I gotta say, the crazy makes it feel a lot like how our first Thanksgiving together with just the three of us went, doesn’t it?”
    They’d never celebrated Thanksgiving growing up. They’d never been in the States in November. But they’d celebrated this year, and not surprisingly, had fought like cats and dogs. Being here together now, fighting like cats and dogs yet again, he agreed that this was exactly what Thanksgiving had been like—crazy as shit. And crazy wonderful.
    *   *   *
    The next few days at work with one adorably sexy Dr. Emily Stevens flew, and he was getting pretty good with the ignoring thing. Or at least he’d done a good job with the faking of the ignoring thing.
    Because she, with her tough, smart ways, was pretty damn difficult to ignore.
    Except she wasn’t going to stick. She had one foot out the door. He didn’t have to work at remembering that—he couldn’t forget it. “So,” he said conversationally as they scrubbed up for their first patient. “How many days left?”
    â€œThree hundred and forty-seven.”
    He’d been just teasing her, but her ready answer was a sober reminder. Like his parents, like his ex-fiancée, like at least one of his sisters, she was yet another person in his life with one foot out the door. He needed to remember that.
    The day was long and challenging as they saw twenty-two patients. They’d done their best for each of them, and each of them had appreciated it. It had been in every soft, warm lick, every tail wag, and in some cases, a rumbly purr.
    It was the people who
owned
his patients who were the pains in his ass.
    Mr. Thicket hadn’t appreciated being kept waiting and had bellowed at Jade behind the receptionist desk.
    Since Dell had flown north to a client’s ranch to inoculate horses that