Possessive Veterinarian Read online

“You didn’t have to do all that.”

  “I did.”

  “You took it pretty far.”

  “I have to let people know if they give you any troubles it’s the same as them trying to come at me, and I’ll deal with them accordingly.”

  “Thank you for standing up for me.”

  “Always. I have to protect what’s mine.”

  “Yours?”

  Donovan’s glare locks on me. “You heard what he said, that you’re mine.”

  I don’t move.

  “That’s the only true thing that came out of his mouth.”

  My chest tightened. I felt like my heart had stopped despite it slamming against my ribcage.

  “Doctor, we need you back in the delivery room,” the assistant says as she reaches down and picks up her clipboard.

  Donovan doesn’t turn to acknowledge her, his gaze on me unflinching.

  “That kid’s a troublemaker. I know who he is. He needed to be put in his place, I’m just sorry you had to see it.” He pauses. “But I’m not sorry about what I said. Not now. Not ever. It’s the damn truth. You’re mine.”

  Donovan’s body turns as he goes to walk toward the delivery room, but he doesn’t even look where he’s going. His eyes stay locked on me until he turns to enter and then his gaze, his body, everything is gone.

  But this moment, his words, will stay with me forever.

  His.

  He said I was his.

  CHAPTER 7

  Donovan

  Fuck that little shit who thought he could disrespect my woman. Yeah he may not be little anymore. He’s damn near my size now and fifteen years younger, but nothing can stop me when it comes to sticking up for my woman.

  I hated that she had to be there to see it. Hell, she probably thought it was some sort of pissing contest between the two of us at first, but I know human nature just as well as I know the nature of animals. We are animals after all. You set an example early and then any other little punk that thinks they might want to make a move on my woman will reconsider, real fucking quick.

  I was glad that one of my assistants forgot one of the shots for her dogs. That gave me the convenient excuse to go into the lobby and get another glimpse of Delaney again.

  Hell she’d only been out of my sight a minute or two and I was already needing to see her face again.

  What I didn’t need to see was that prick talking to her. It sent me into an instant rage when I saw her recoil at the touch of his finger. You know that old saying, don’t lay a finger on me? Well it’s true. All it took was the far side of his small finger and I had to make him answer for his actions.

  The little punk has a juvenile record longer than a child daycare service’s grocery bill. He only got a job as a mall cop because of his dad. Well I don’t give a damn what his bloodline is, or how much cash his family has to bail him out of trouble. When he comes around my woman sniffing for trouble he’s gonna get exactly that.

  But I don’t have to worry about him anymore.

  What I do need to worry about is that low cut top that Delaney had on today.

  I tap my pen against the desk where I do my end of the day paperwork before putting it in my mouth and biting down hard on it. She was showing too much…way too much.

  That body is mine now and as much as I want her to feel free as a bird, I want her more covered up out in public.

  In our home? Naked twenty-four seven. I want my eyes to feast on every curve all the time when we’re alone behind closed doors.

  And speaking of that I need to go over to this place she’s staying at and see how sturdy the doors, the locks, the windows…all that stuff is.

  I take the pen from my mouth and tap it against my skull.

  Damn, this is wrong on so many levels.

  She’s trying to prove to her father that she can make it alone, as an adult. I need to prove to her, and soon to him, that what I feel for her is real.

  I should stay away. I should strengthen my resolve. But now I’ve turned into the cliché that I tell my pet’s owners sometimes when I attempt to rationalize irrational animal, or human, behavior. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  And I’ve wanted Delaney for four years now. No other woman even came close to comparing to her. No one else even aroused the faintest of interest from me.

  This internal roller coaster I’d been on is only going to give me an ulcer. This up and down like a teeter-totter in my mind is driving me crazy. Trying to tell myself she’s my best friend’s daughter and that I should back off just isn’t cutting it anymore.

  I’d already wasted four long years. We could have two kids by now. Two!

  It was time to make it known to her, and soon to everyone, that this wasn’t just some sort of puppy love, some sort of crush, some passing desire.

  This is real, and I’ll show the world when I put a ring on her finger. Hell, I’d do it today if I didn’t have to do a balancing act figuring out how I’m going to break this to her father.

  No matter what, she will be my wife. She will be the mother to my children. She will be my everything.

  Hell, she already is.

  I’m ready to risk it all. I’m not getting any younger and it’s time to make some young'uns with her once and for all.

  Although my words were crystal clear earlier they probably left Delaney feeling confused. I don’t want any ambiguity in her mind when it comes to us.

  I drop what I’m doing and grab her paperwork from my desk, looking at the address one more time as if I didn’t memorize it the very first time I saw it.

  I stand quickly, my chair sliding backwards and slamming into the wall as I march to the front door.

  I flip the sign over showing closed and step through, locking the door and moving swiftly to my SUV.

  I never go home early, and that claim is going to stay true.

  Because I’m not going home. I’m going to go do what I should have done a long time ago.

  Make her mine.

  CHAPTER 8

  Delaney

  I pour some dog food for Larry, Curly, and Moe and watch as they gobble it down quickly.

  They’re so cute and after my visit to the pet store today I also realize…they’re so expensive.

  I had no clue how much dog food cost. Thankfully Donovan absolutely refused to take any money from me, although I did leave a twenty in the tip jar on the reception counter for an animal charity.

  The speed at which they’re gobbling down that food is mind boggling, and wallet draining as I watch how quickly three servings from a sixty five dollar bag disappear.

  I didn’t adopt one puppy. I adopted three.

  I need to come up with a plan, but first, ice cream.

  I already put all the things they can chew up out of their chew range and radius. That was a full job in and of itself, and certainly enough of one that makes me feel like I deserve a treat myself. I guess humans really are animals.

  After spending so much money the extra cash for the pint of Ben & Jerry’s didn’t seem like much. More importantly I feel light as a feather and more beautiful than ever since Donovan claimed me today.

  This Fudge Brownie flavor may mess up my skin for a day or two, but I want the high of Donovan’s words to continue and chocolate and heaps of hidden sugar from Ben & Jerry’s is just the trick.

  I move over to my bed, which doubles as a couch when I’m home, and just as I stick my dessert spoon in there is a rap on the front door.

  My body freezes and my eyes move toward the offending noise. I should just act like I’m not home, holding completely still and maybe whoever it is will go away. They surely have the wrong place anyway. No one has a reason to visit me, and pretty much nobody knows I’m here.

  But my boys give us away.

  They start barking wildly, chasing each other around my tiny space before chasing their own tails.

  Okay, technically that doesn’t mean there’s a human home. That just means there are some guard dogs
here. They’ll go away.

  “Delaney,” the deep timbre booms right through my door and into the tiny home I’ve made for myself.

  The voice, unmistakable.

  He knows I’m here.

  I grab my hallowed ice cream and stick it back in the freezer, fluffing my hair in my reflection in the microwave door and pushing my breasts up. I have no idea where that one tube of lipstick is that I own or else I’d smear a whole bunch of it on too.

  “There’s some things we need to talk about,” his gravelly tone informs me.

  I take a deep breath in and then blow it out, making my way to the door.

  I pull it open and take in the sight of him…but he’s not looking at me.

  What the…?

  I look up, taking in the underside of his jawline, which looks like it was chiseled from marble. His arms flex, the corded muscles in his forearms looking like intertwined steel rope that ships anchor to.

  He’s still wearing his work clothes, but somehow outside of his clinic he looks even hotter, which I didn’t think was humanly possible.

  “What are you doing here? Is it about the dogs?” My voice is low, almost a whisper.

  He takes a step inside my apartment, not waiting for me to invite him in, his gaze narrowing as his fists tighten as he surveys my place.

  It’s not the best of buildings or areas, but back in the day this place was the epicenter of the city. The buildings were state of the art and the tenants modern day version of yuppies. Somehow, throughout the years, gentrification didn’t find it’s way to this part of the city.

  The building was now old, and this part of town run down. The landlord didn’t even show up to meet me, just leaving my keys and the contract in a self-check in box Airbnb style. At least the rent was super low and a parking spot free and easy to find. I just hoped I always found my car in the morning.

  But what I need to find out right now is what’s bothering Donovan.

  “Donovan?” I call out softly.

  He completely ignores me. Maybe he’s still catching his breath from walking up the stairs, the elevator being out of order since I moved in. Then again he’s not breathing hard at all and has cardiovascular fitness that’s pretty much better than anyone I’ve ever seen, minus Olympic swimmers and runners on TV every four years.

  I watch him as he slowly steps through my apartment, my three dogs suddenly silent and all in a line as their eyes follow him, just as mine do.

  He moves to the bathroom, flipping on the light and then the faucet and the shower.

  “What are you doing?”

  He flips all three off and then steps out. His eyes roam across the rest of my personal space. There’s not much more area for him to step in considering his gait is long and authoritative. One of his steps is at least two and a half of mine.

  “You mentioned there were some things we need to talk about?”

  This time his eyes find mine, but there’s a hint of empathy to them…mixed with anger.

  “You can’t stay here another night.” He pauses. “You or the boys.” One of the dogs barks, but I’m not sure which one as I’m looking at him. I’m not able to differentiate their barks yet, but hopefully soon. That said they bark, but Donovan looks like he’s ready to bite.

  “What do you mean? I live here.”

  “How much do you pay?”

  “Six fifty a month.”

  “I know you won’t take a handout so give me the same and stay at my place.”

  “I have a lease.”

  “Break it. I’ll sort it out with the landlord.”

  “I can’t come stay with you.”

  His gaze changes and his lower lips rolls up slightly before resuming its position. “Some guy was getting blown in the alley when I rolled up. And there are syringes in the dumpster. And it’s not even dark yet.”

  “How do you know that someone was getting…I mean…you know doing what you said in the alley.”

  “I told them to take it somewhere else.”

  “And let me guess. They didn’t question you?”

  “How quickly can you pack?”

  “I’m not packing.”

  He takes a step closer. “If you have big plastic trash bags that we can throw your stuff into that will make this faster. We can sort it all when you get to my place.”

  “Donovan! I’m. Not. Moving.”

  “Okay then,” he says and walks right out the front door.

  What in the world is wrong with him.

  I move to the door to close it only to see his big body sitting just next to the door, his back against the wall.

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “Keeping you safe.”

  “I don’t need protecting.”

  “Says you.”

  I shut the door and go get my ice cream out of the freezer.

  What am I doing? The man of my dreams is offering for me to come and shack up with him, albeit not like that, and I practically just kicked him out of my cracker box living space.

  I sink my spoon into the ice cream determined to win this little standoff.

  But an hour and a half later, when I open the door and he’s still sitting there, not checking his phone or doing anything else, I’m forced to reconsider.

  “I’m not going anywhere, until we leave together.”

  “Uhhh! I hate you,” I say and shut the door…just before I fish that cardboard box that has all the big garbage bags in it out from underneath the sink…and start throwing my stuff inside.

  CHAPTER 9

  Donovan

  You can hear a pin drop on the ride back over to my place. Even the dogs sense the tension in the SUV as they don’t bark a single time. They’re not passed out either. They’re watching, waiting, just like I am with her.

  I know she’s gonna open up to me and embrace this soon, but I sure hope soon means real soon because my need for her is unbearable.

  The pressure in my balls makes it hard for me to think. And all the things I’ve imagined doing with her both in and out of the bedroom have been brewing for years.

  She had so few possessions it only took two trips up and down the stairs to get everything into my ride. Good. That just means we’ll be at my place that much sooner.

  We pull up and into the garage. It’s just a rental, the first thing I could find on short notice when I heard she was back in town, but it’s perfect.

  It’s perfect because it’s got enough space where we can be tight, passing each other in the hallway, when I don’t have her pinned up against its walls. But it’s spacious, so we can have our own time if we need it, not that I’m going to need one second of it. My time is her time. I want all my me time to be with her.

  And out of a stroke of luck I’ve got a backyard. The pups are gonna be in high heaven.

  We enter through the garage and I show her to her bedroom, although there’s no way in hell she’s going to be sleeping in there long. I need her in my room, our room, our bed as soon as possible.

  But I need to give her time to get acclimated and to accept what’s happening. And it has to be one hundred percent her decision to join me in my bedroom. As much as I’m a caveman whenever she’s around, no way would I ever use my size and strength to overwhelm her, harm her, or disrespect her. My massive size serves one purpose and one purpose only.

  Protect my family.

  The family that starts with her. The family that will start in this house. And with a bit of luck…tonight.

  “I owe you an ice cream for the one you left back at your place.”

  She says nothing, still sulking.

  She told me earlier that she hates me, but she’s gonna do a complete one eighty and tell me she loves me soon enough. I’m sure of it.

  I get her things in her room and give her some time, making my way to the kitchen to find some steaks, which I put on the small tabletop grill I have in my kitchen.

  “You eat yet?”

  A moment passes before finally she give
s me an “uh huh.” I don’t want to go to her room, preferring to ask her from the kitchen. The last thing I want to do is be all up on her right now. For all I know she feels like an animal that’s trapped, cornered, and I don’t want to make her angrier…although something inside me tells me she’s putting up a bit of a front.