Defending Hayden (Second Chances #7)(7)

I stared at his eyes and almost got lost in those blue depths before reality struck. “No, that’s silly. I bought an extended warranty in case something like this happened. I’ll just get another one tomorrow.”

“But that doesn’t do you any good tonight.” He pulled out his phone. “Take mine for now. That way you’ll have something in case there’s an emergency.” Who is this guy? When I didn’t take his phone, he grabbed my hand and wrapped my fingers around it. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“I don’t even know you. Why would you offer to do this?”

He shrugged. “Just seems like the right thing to do.” Turning on his heel, he started toward a large black truck, and the lights flashed as he unlocked it.

“Wait!” I shouted. He glanced back at me, lifting his brows. “How will I get in touch with you to return it?”

He nodded at the phone and then looked at me, a small grin spreading across his lips. “Don’t worry, I know how to get in touch with you.” I couldn’t help but stand there in amazement as he got in his truck and drove away. It was the strangest encounter I’d ever had. What kind of person gives his phone away to a stranger?

Whoever he was, I had no intention of using his phone. First thing tomorrow morning, I was getting a new one. Opening my purse, I placed both phones inside and walked into the restaurant. My best friend and coworker, Michael Briggs, waved at me from across the room. He was still in his green scrubs from Stonebrooke Veterinary Hospital, just like I was.

Always the gentleman, Michael stood and pulled out my chair for me. A lady at the table beside us asked the man she was with why he didn’t do that for her. Michael was a Southern gentleman, handsome with dark brown hair and amazing green eyes. The ladies loved him.

“Where have you been? I tried calling.”

Sighing, I sat down. “It’s a long story. It starts off being stuck at the clinic talking to Wilford.” Wilford Bentley was our employer, the owner of Stonebrooke. I loved the man to death, but he sure did like to talk. “And then,” I said, pulling out my cracked phone, “I got hit by a door and I dropped my phone.”

“Ouch, how did that happen?” Michael asked.

I set it in front of him. “Some guy opened the back door and it knocked my phone out of my hands.”

“Who did it?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know his name. He left after it happened.”

Our waitress came up, smiling wide. “Good evening. Would you care for something to drink?” she asked me. She was young, probably late teens, with light brown hair.

“Can I have a sweet tea, please?”

Her gaze lingered on Michael and then came back to me. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” Michael lifted his glass to his lips, trying to hide his smile but failing. I said, “You should seriously stop smiling at women. They’re going to think you’re interested in them.”

“What am I supposed to do, scowl? I can’t help being friendly.”

I rolled my eyes. “And then you’ll break all their hearts when you tell them you’re gay. You’re the only guy I know who could get a different female every day of the week. You should see the way Jeremiah looks at you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad doesn’t describe it. He hates that all the nurses fawn all over you.”

Michael brushed off his shoulders, grinning devilishly. “I can’t help it that he’s as interesting as a bag of bricks. The guy has no personality whatsoever. It’s his own damn fault he can’t get any *.”

“And then here the gay guy is, bringing it all in.” I laughed.

He scoffed. “He’ll get over it. Besides, the dude’s hard up for you. I think he gets pissed because you’re always with me.” That was the last thing I wanted to think about.

The waitress came back with my sweet tea, and we ordered our food. I was starving. We’d had a person come into the clinic with a box full of malnourished puppies they’d found in a Dumpster behind our local grocery store. The poor things were close to death, but Michael and I had spent the entire day tending to them. I still didn’t know if they were going to make it, but we were hoping for the best. One of my nurses, Amanda Oliver, had taken them home with her so she could feed them during the night.

Michael pointed down at my phone. “Do you need me to cover for you tomorrow morning so you can get a new phone?”

“That’d be great, if you don’t mind. However,” I said, pulling out the one the guy had given me, “I have this one to tide me over in case I can’t get away.”

Brow furrowed, Michael took a sip of his beer. “Where did that one come from?”

“From the guy who hit me with the door. He told me to keep it until I got a new one.”

He sat back, surprised. “Wow, that’s interesting. Who was he?” Then his attention focused on the large group behind us, and his eyes went wide. “Wait, it wasn’t one of the Cougars, was it?”

“Why would it be one of them?” I asked.

Sighing, he waved toward the bar. “Because the whole team is here. Did you not see them when you walked in?”

I glanced behind me at the herd of men laughing and carrying on at the bar. “I guess I was too busy looking for you to notice,” I said, turning back to him. “Besides, I don’t watch football. I wouldn’t recognize any of them if I saw them on the street.”