feet. He’d later wonder how he managed to move so fast. But he was up and running. Tonya was just exiting the building. He snatched the keys from her hand and glanced frantically for her car.
He only fell once on the way to the Chevy Blazer. It started on command and roared, though at a much smaller decibel than the cab, out of the driveway. The taxi had turned left, but that was all Devon knew. It had disappeared from sight. He alternated between cursing, pounding the steering wheel and weaving around traffic. That led to more cursing, mostly from the other drivers, and a lot of horn blasts. The taxi had gone this way, he was sure. Trouble was, by now it had blended into the sea of identical cabs. So now, along with avoiding crashes he had to peer into the backseats of vehicles.
After twenty minutes, he gave up. Trying to return to football after the injury had been a mistake. Chasing the Fiona pipedream was a mistake also.
Chapter Six
Devon made his way back to the clinic where, unbelievably, Tonya still stood on the edge of the driveway. He got out and, wordless, handed the keys to his boss, located his cane and the wastebasket and shuffled back inside.
He finished out the shift. By now the clinic was closed; everyone had gone home. Devon jingled the keys as he made sure each door was locked and the alarm was set. The cab, prearranged to arrive at the end of each shift, sat out front. He’d just pulled open the door when it struck him. Damn! How stupid could he be?
Devon asked the cabbie to wait and made his way back inside. He fumbled with the register, flipping pages to find her name. First name Fiona. Last name unknown because he hadn’t expected her to run out on him that night.
Probably she didn’t want to see him and that’s why she ran off. He could face that—would face it if he heard the words direct from her mouth. But no Fiona with any last name was in the book. It only said emergency bird. He sighed—it had been too good to be true anyway—and left.
Devon climbed into the cab and settled back as the vehicle raced off. Why did they all drive like NASCAR racers? He closed his eyes, then flashed them open. He bent forward and retrieved a small green object from the floor.
Chapter Seven
The bird seemed thrilled to be home. Her mate nuzzled her face and sat on the perch above her. Fiona placed a small container of food and water on the bottom of the cage to make it easier for her to eat. She then made a large martini and settled on a stool beside the cage, watching to make sure the bird was all right. Not until it had pecked at a few seeds was she able to relax. Well, the alcohol helped.
The ringing of the doorbell startled her and she fell off the stool. It rang a second time before she’d gotten up. And a third time after she stubbed two toes on the coffee table.
Fiona nearly passed out seeing Devon silhouetted in the doorway. No preliminaries, apologies or explanations were needed. They fell into each others’ arms. Discarded clothing rained down like confetti. She yanked him to the hallway floor, lips seeking, hands groping, legs twining. Flesh met flesh. Tongues explored. Body liquids meshed.
Consummation occurred quickly. Too quickly, but there would be other times. Many others.
L IZ
Thank you for reading. To read other books in the Tender Hearts Veterinary Clinic series, check out:
The Great Dane (Jannick and Rianna)
An American Bulldog (Taryn and Dolf)
The Long Haired Persian (Tonya and Gaspar)
The Bearded Dragon (Wanda and Carlton)
The Masked Lovebird (Devon and Fiona)
Damsel in Distress (Carmen and Shawn)
Liz Stafford
Liz Stafford is new to the world of short stories—and loving it. Being a pet lover and ex-dachshund breeder, introducing a clinic full of pets seemed only right, and natural. Adding men made it even more so…
Email Liz at: [email protected]
He only fell once on the way to the Chevy Blazer. It started on command and roared, though at a much smaller decibel than the cab, out of the driveway. The taxi had turned left, but that was all Devon knew. It had disappeared from sight. He alternated between cursing, pounding the steering wheel and weaving around traffic. That led to more cursing, mostly from the other drivers, and a lot of horn blasts. The taxi had gone this way, he was sure. Trouble was, by now it had blended into the sea of identical cabs. So now, along with avoiding crashes he had to peer into the backseats of vehicles.
After twenty minutes, he gave up. Trying to return to football after the injury had been a mistake. Chasing the Fiona pipedream was a mistake also.
Chapter Six
Devon made his way back to the clinic where, unbelievably, Tonya still stood on the edge of the driveway. He got out and, wordless, handed the keys to his boss, located his cane and the wastebasket and shuffled back inside.
He finished out the shift. By now the clinic was closed; everyone had gone home. Devon jingled the keys as he made sure each door was locked and the alarm was set. The cab, prearranged to arrive at the end of each shift, sat out front. He’d just pulled open the door when it struck him. Damn! How stupid could he be?
Devon asked the cabbie to wait and made his way back inside. He fumbled with the register, flipping pages to find her name. First name Fiona. Last name unknown because he hadn’t expected her to run out on him that night.
Probably she didn’t want to see him and that’s why she ran off. He could face that—would face it if he heard the words direct from her mouth. But no Fiona with any last name was in the book. It only said emergency bird. He sighed—it had been too good to be true anyway—and left.
Devon climbed into the cab and settled back as the vehicle raced off. Why did they all drive like NASCAR racers? He closed his eyes, then flashed them open. He bent forward and retrieved a small green object from the floor.
Chapter Seven
The bird seemed thrilled to be home. Her mate nuzzled her face and sat on the perch above her. Fiona placed a small container of food and water on the bottom of the cage to make it easier for her to eat. She then made a large martini and settled on a stool beside the cage, watching to make sure the bird was all right. Not until it had pecked at a few seeds was she able to relax. Well, the alcohol helped.
The ringing of the doorbell startled her and she fell off the stool. It rang a second time before she’d gotten up. And a third time after she stubbed two toes on the coffee table.
Fiona nearly passed out seeing Devon silhouetted in the doorway. No preliminaries, apologies or explanations were needed. They fell into each others’ arms. Discarded clothing rained down like confetti. She yanked him to the hallway floor, lips seeking, hands groping, legs twining. Flesh met flesh. Tongues explored. Body liquids meshed.
Consummation occurred quickly. Too quickly, but there would be other times. Many others.
L IZ
Thank you for reading. To read other books in the Tender Hearts Veterinary Clinic series, check out:
The Great Dane (Jannick and Rianna)
An American Bulldog (Taryn and Dolf)
The Long Haired Persian (Tonya and Gaspar)
The Bearded Dragon (Wanda and Carlton)
The Masked Lovebird (Devon and Fiona)
Damsel in Distress (Carmen and Shawn)
Liz Stafford
Liz Stafford is new to the world of short stories—and loving it. Being a pet lover and ex-dachshund breeder, introducing a clinic full of pets seemed only right, and natural. Adding men made it even more so…
Email Liz at: [email protected]
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