The Billionaire's Matchmaker(41)

He’d been speaking in general terms when he’d said us, but color flooded Mia’s face. She hadn’t been shy when it came to sex, so her blush made Gid wonder if she was remembering how good it had been between them. God help him, he was. He cleared his throat.

“If you talk to Bonaparte, you might mention it.”

“That’s not likely, but sure.”

She took a seat on a wheeled stool while Gid finished the checkup. Fifteen minutes later, Charlie was off the table and at the door whining, clearly eager to put the clinic behind him.

Mia stood to go, but Gideon wasn’t quite done.

“He’s healthy, but I see from his chart that he’s gained a few pounds since his last visit.” Tapping the clipboard, he added, “You might want to lay off the treats.”

At the mention of the T-word, the pooch turned into a canine hurricane, twirling in ever-widening circles as he yipped excitedly. He knocked over the stainless steel trashcan, sent the wheeled stool Mia had been sitting on flying across the room, and was up and over the examining table three times before they were able to corral him.

Gideon lifted the dog and placed him in Mia’s arms. One of his hands brushed her breast in the process, the touch so light and brief it shouldn’t have mattered. They all went still, even Charlie.

I miss you. He almost said it out loud. He almost leaned in, kissed those full lips of hers that knew how to drive him insane whenever they left his mouth.

“Why?” Mia whispered softly. Her eyes were clouded with confusion. At Gideon’s frown, she blinked and he recognized the walls being erected once more. Her tone was no longer quite so reedy when she asked, “Why is there a for sale sign out front?”

Irritated, he replied, “Because I’m selling.”

She frowned at the obvious and a line of impatience formed between her brows. There had been a time when Gideon would have been quick to smooth it away with the tip of one finger before moving on to the other tense parts of her body. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat now and allowed them to curl into fists.

“You’re selling the clinic?”

“My house, too.”

“Why?” she asked again. Her tone was bewildered now. Hurt? He wanted to think so. Hell, his ego demanded it.

“We talked about this before Christmas,” he reminded her. “The job offer out west.” No small suburban clinic like this one but a big state-of-the-art facility tied to a prestigious university where he not only would have access to the latest research and advances in veterinary medicine, but be an adjunct professor. He’d been willing to pass it up before. Willing—hell, happy—to stay in Chandler’s Cove. But now…

His tone was hollow when he added, “There’s nothing to keep me here, Mia. You made sure of that.”





Chapter Two



The spray of freesia refused to cooperate. Instead of simply plucking it out, Mia scuttled the entire arrangement and started from scratch. It was the third time she’d done so in the past hour.

“You do realize those flowers are slated for the afternoon delivery,” Loretta Faust said from the doorway. At nearly sixty, the owner of the Posy Peddler remained active and healthy, but she no longer wanted to work the long hours the business required. She left those to Mia, who was only too happy to oblige, since she wanted to call the shop her own one day.

And since she no longer had Gid to spend her evenings with.

“I just want it to be perfect.”

“It was fine the way it was.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t perfect,” Mia replied.

Loretta sent her gaze skyward. They’d had this argument before. “Just make sure it gets on the truck, okay?”

On the floor at Mia’s feet, Charlie snorted softly before settling his head on his front paws.

“Not you, too,” she told the dog. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting things to be just right.”

Half an hour later, she was placing the last sprig of greenery when she heard the floor boards creak.

“All done,” she announced with a grin, pleased with her handiwork. When she looked up, however, it wasn’t Loretta or the deliveryman who stood in the doorway. It was Gideon.

Her smile faded, and just for a moment she regretted that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She dipped her head, allowing her hair to fall forward, partially obscuring her face from view. From behind the long fringe of the bangs she was growing out, she said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Indeed, after their exchange at the veterinarian clinic the previous week, she figured he would go as far out of his way to avoid seeing her as she had to avoid seeing him.

“Yeah, I got that when you frowned.” Charlie was on his feet, his wiry, white tail wagging madly as he trotted over to Gid to have his ears scratched. To the dog he said, “At least someone is happy to see me.”

“So, what brings you here?” she asked.

Charlie had flopped down on his back, and Gid was down on one knee, giving the dog’s belly a thorough rub. Without looking up, he said, “My mom’s birthday is next week.”

“What? No big family dinner?” she asked before she could think better of it.

Gid’s family made the Waltons look dysfunctional. And even as she’d yearned to be part of such a loving, tight-knit clan, every time Mia had been in their company she’d been all the more aware of her own family’s shortcomings.