Emma Glass was late to work, thanks to her two German
shepherd puppies—as yet unnamed—who had decided they weren’t
ready to be left without adoring companionship. So she
called her best friend, Jenny Wright, over to babysit the
new fur babies while she went to the clinic. Asking your
best friend to watch your pets the day after Thanksgiving
was no small thing, but Jenny agreed with a squeal and said
she could study case law while she kept an eye on Emma’s pet
menagerie: the pups, her high-minded blue-point Persian
Princess, and her two beautiful lovebirds.
Disorganized seemed to be the catchword of the day. Emma
stuffed her red hair up in a bird’s nest, brushed her teeth,
and hurried out the door.
She shifted her very old green Jeep, turning into the
parking lot of the sole vet clinic in Star Canyon, New
Mexico, which had been run by her father before her, and
which she’d taken over last year after her father had passed
away. The last three years she’d had the pleasure of working
at the clinic with him, learning under him, and getting to
know her patients.
The low-slung brown building that housed the clinic always
felt like a second home to her, her father’s presence all
around.
Parking in the last spot in the employee section around
back, she got out, stuck her feet in her rubber work shoes,
and slipped her black backpack over her shoulder. Very
urban, Jenny called the backpack, which had made Emma laugh,
because they lived in a two-stoplight town of five hundred
people. She grabbed up the paper sack of old, soft towels
someone had kindly left on her porch as a donation for the
clinic, and hurried toward the back door.
“Oof!” Something large careened into her back, sending her
sailing. The concrete parking lot was cold and hard, and
remnants of snow clung to her jeans, but the sweet brown
eyes in a golden-furred face charmed her instantly. “Hello,
handsome! If you wanted attention, you could have just said
so, Joe. I love the new camo bandana. Very big-boy.”
She got to her knees, felt a strong hand haul her to her
feet. She was pulled up against a strong, wide chest she had
dreamed of being acquainted with for years, even back to
high school when she’d spent all her time studying to get a
college scholarship and he’d spent his time being the local
rodeo star. Santana Dark brushed her clothes off and set her
back on her feet. “I’m sorry as hell, Emma. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Happens all the time when you work in a vet
clinic.” Her eyes seemed glued—and traitorously so—to
Santana’s tight backside as he picked up the towels, stuffed
them back into the bag, and handed it to her.
He grinned. “Joe doesn’t know his own strength.”
“So your sister introduced you to Joe.” She looked up at
Santana, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless. But she
was, and it wasn’t from getting knocked to the ground by a
rambunctious seventy-pound junior Golden retriever. “I
didn’t know you were back from Afghanistan.”
He smiled, eating her up with his eyes, the way every woman
said he made them feel. Emma begged her heart to quit racing.
“Got back last night. Sierra said I had dog duty right off
the bat because Joe needed to come see his friend and
guardian angel, Dr. Glass.” He tugged lightly at a strand of
Emma’s hair, which had exploded from its bird’s nest knot
when she’d fallen. “You’d be surprised how often I thought
about this crazy ruby-colored hair of yours while I was
overseas.”
She stepped back, gripping the bag of towels to her. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
Well, there it was. Just typical non-meaningful flirtation
from one of the Dark brothers. The four of them—Luke, Cisco,
Santana, and Romero—were all sex on a stick, and the women
in Star Canyon had been trying to tie them down for years,
with no success.
“I’m actually late, so I better get inside.” She edged away
from Joe’s tongue, eagerly trying to connect with her hand
in a plea for more attention. “Glad you’re home safely,
Santana. Bye, Joe.” She relented with a swift pat for Joe as
she scurried inside the clinic, away from the fiercely sexy
combo of a SEAL and his dog.
Sierra had said Santana would need a friend when he got
home, and adopted Joe on the spot, the day he’d been brought
in, found dumped in Star Canyon. Sierra had also said it
would keep her brother from lodging his head too far up his
butt once he returned, so he’d
“have something else to
think about besides military crap.”
That was Sierra—always working an angle, keeping her
brothers from getting too comfortable out at their
two-thousand-acre ranch.
Emma walked past the receptionist desk, handed Connie
Merritt the bag of donated towels, and tossed her backpack
into her office.
“You’re late,” Connie said, following her. “Don’t think I
didn’t notice Santana Dark’s truck parked out front and him
taking that big lug of a dog around back for a potty break.
What happened to your jeans?”
Emma glanced down, spying the small tear. “Nothing.”
Connie grinned. “He’s been trying to get your clothes off of
you for years.”
“Who?”
Connie laughed and went back to her desk. “Ever thought
about letting him?” she called back.
That was the trouble with your receptionist being an old
friend of the family—helpful advice got ladled out often.
“You’re assuming I’d want him taking my clothes off.” She
flipped on lights in the first exam room, made sure the
trays were out and clean for her first patient. The waiting
room had filled pretty quickly—she’d spied two cats in
carriers, Mrs. Sanders and her Chihuahua Betty, and little
Marty Johnson with his guinea pig Squeakers. No sign of Joe
and his new hunky dad, which would give her a chance to get
settled into professional mode before she had to face
Santana in the confines of a small examining room.
Whew.
“First patient of the day,” Connie said, too cheerful for
words, as she ushered Joe and Santana in.
Joe made a beeline for Emma. His master lounged against the
wall, his arms crossed over his chest, slightly amused.
“Like a bull in a china shop, and a helluva welcome-home
gift from my kid sister,” Santana said. “So, who’s been
trying to get your clothes off of you for years?” He laughed
at Emma’s embarrassed expression. “Connie’s voice carries.”
It was true. Which meant the entire waiting room had heard
their conversation, and no doubt everyone knew Connie had
meant Santana—or they would within the next five minutes
once Connie filled in the details to all very interested
parties. “You know Connie. She talks a lot.”
“I thought she might have been talking about me. It’s not
entirely true, but it wouldn’t be entirely false either.”
Emma’s heart thundered. “Big talk coming from a man who
hasn’t been in Star Canyon much in years.” She took a fast
peep at the big-shouldered man casually eying her. Big brown
eyes with long dark lashes. Sheepskin jacket, brown Stetson.
Well-worn boots, great smile in a deeply tanned face. She
was staring, and he’d noticed. She got Joe square on the
silver table, pushed the button to raise the table to exam
height, ignored Santana’s grin, and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“Hello, you big baby,” she crooned to Joe, who offered her a
paw. “New trick?” she asked, shaking his paw and slipping
him a treat.
“Sierra claims she’s been working with him. Was it your idea
to send this overly large hound out to our ranch?”
Thankfully they were off the dangerous topic of clothing
removal. “The idea was all Sierra’s. She said you’d need a
friend when you got home.”
“My sister loves thinking she rules the roost.”
He didn’t seem too worried about that, so Emma went back to
checking Joe over. “You’ve put on six pounds since I saw you
last,” she told Joe, running her hands over his wiggly body.
“Good boy.”
“Joe got a steak last night for dinner.”
Emma raised a brow. “You feed him steak?”
“He took the steak. Raw, before it hit the grill.” Santana
laughed. “In the future, I won’t underestimate his reach.”
“A little steak never hurt anyone, but don’t make a habit of
that, young man.” She peeked in Joe’s ears, nodding with
satisfaction. “You’re on the mend, buddy. No more infection,
and according to your last stool sample, no more worms. Your
blood test came back heartworm negative, which is
excellent.” She moved the table down, and Joe jumped off
with delight, wagging his tail. “Thanks for bringing him in.
I’d hoped to see improvement, and my faith has been rewarded.”
“You didn’t think Sierra would let any animal live a
completely unpampered life, did you?”
“Exactly why I allowed him to go to the Dark ranch as
opposed to the six other people who offered to adopt Joe. I
know your sister and your brothers have soft hearts.”
Santana looked at her. “I notice you didn’t mention my soft
heart.”
A strange feeling hit her. It was the way he looked at her,
studying her, like he was searching for an answer to which
she didn’t know the question. “There’s nothing soft about
you, Santana, but I think everyone in this town would say
that you and all your family serve your country and are good
to Star Canyon.” She closed up Joe’s folder, opened the
door. “It’s good to see you again. Both of you.” Emma gave
Joe one last fond pat and headed into the hallway.
“Connie’s right about me, you know,” he murmured as he
stepped into the hall, way too close for comfort. So very
close, so tall and strong. He even smelled sexy, like clean,
warm, manly skin, and she concentrated on keeping her
distance. Not looking like she was falling under a spell.
Emma thanked her lucky stars for Connie’s curious gaze and
the full waiting room also staring at them with great
interest so she could escape into the next examining room.
“I have a guinea pig patient, and by the squeals I hear,
mini-Marty is none too happy to be in an establishment with
cats. Good-bye, Santana.”
She hurried into waiting room 2 to the sound of Santana’s
deep chuckle, her heart beating way too hard. Oh, who was
she kidding?
She was crazy about Santana Dark. So many muscles, so much
attitude.
But taking on that much heat—well, there was no reason for
her to desert her geeky-girl origins. There was plenty of
attraction between her and Santana, but attraction was
nothing solid to build a relationship on. Or build anything
on. The Dark men, every last one of them, had never been
engaged and never pretended to be interested in matrimony.
For that matter, Emma wasn’t exactly known for the longevity
of her relationships. A few boyfriends scattered throughout
college and one in vet school that might have turned serious
if she hadn’t decided to return to Star Canyon. She’d made
the right decision—knowing in her heart that she didn’t feel
about any man the way she’d always felt about Santana. And
it wasn’t something she could solely ascribe to unrequited
youthful longings. Somehow she’d always known he meant more
to her than any other man.
She sternly commanded her blood to quit racing and the parts
of her body which had no business heating to cool off. The
very last thing she needed to do was drool after Star
Canyon’s most elusive bachelor, now that he’d finally
returned home—for however long.
© 2003-2026