Chapter 2

Hell, if that hadn’t given him nightmares, worrying his daughter would find Charlie trapped in the tube, eyes open and bulging, little tongue protruding. A chill ran through his spine as he replaced the lid. And yet, even with removing the dangerous tube from the cage, they’d still ended up at the vet, with Charlie’s life hanging in the balance. Apparently, hamster life was fraught with danger.

When Clem had come to Shawn, tears streaming down her cherubic face, and told him that Charlie had a large lump on him, he’d worried. One look at the hamster and that worry had bloomed into full-blown panic. He scooped him into a shoebox and they’d rushed to the vet, snow warnings be damned.

While his daughter lost herself in the magazine, he began to wonder what he’d do if the hamster died. Despite the fact this particular pet did nothing other than eat, his daughter loved him with all her heart. What if he wasn’t dying, and he just needed surgery? Did they even operate on hamsters? How expensive would that be? God, if they charge by the pound, Charlie would probably require the most expensive hamster surgery ever. There was a pet store just around the block…No, no, he couldn’t just replace Charlie…could he? Fuck, sometimes adulting sucked.

The door on the other side of the room opened and Shawn nearly swallowed his tongue. The man that stepped inside was hands-down the most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes on. Solidly built, with shoulders so broad, the teal fabric strained at the seams. Muscled thighs…oh, God, Shawn had a thing for strong thighs. Light brown hair, slightly tousled on top, fell across the man’s forehead. Strong Roman nose, square jaw covered in light stubble, full pink lips, and the most beautiful hazel eyes he’d ever seen. Hazel eyes that were staring at him with a hint of amusement.

Shit, he’d just been busted checking out the vet. Heat flooded his cheeks as he swallowed hard and tried to regain his dignity. Thank goodness his daughter was oblivious to his near-drool, jumping up from her chair and running over to join him, the magazine still firmly in her grip.

“Hi. I’m Dr. Copeland.” He eyed the box and glanced at the clipboard in his hand. “I hear you’re worried about someone named Charlie?”

Fuck.His baritone voice did things to Shawn’s body that he really shouldn’t notice. Not with a dying hamster and his daughter’s world possibly crashing down around them at any second.

“Yes.” Shawn’s voice cracked and he shook his head. Get it together. It had just been too long since he’d hooked up with anyone. Had to be why he felt like a hormonal teenager. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes. Clementine’s hamster.”

Dr. Copeland moved to the side of the table and lifted the lid. He started to stroke Charlie’s head.

“Um, he bites. Hard.” Shawn figured the man should be warned.

A smile spread across Dr. Copeland’s face and Shawn felt the heat down to his toes. He wanted to bask in it. Let it warm him top to bottom.

“He only bites you, Daddy,” Clementine pointed out, interrupting his thoughts.

A low chuckle came from the vet as he scooped up Charlie, holding him belly up. “Well, he certainly is…hefty,” he said, biting back a smirk.

Yeah. “Hefty”…code for “fat.”

Dr. Copeland tilted Charlie around and around and the fucker didn’t even try to bite him. Maybe his daughter was right. Maybe Charlie bit only Shawn.

The vet scrunched his brow and glanced at them. “Where is the lump?”

Seriously? Shawn was reconsidering his first impression. The guy might be hot, but he clearly wasn’t very good at his job. At all. The lump was literally right in front of him.

Clementine slipped her hand into his. “Show him, Daddy,” she murmured, pleading at him with her big blue eyes.

Shawn pointed to the can’t-miss-it-huge-lump. “Right there. We just noticed it this morning. Do you…do you think it’s a tumor?”

Dr. Copeland snorted and deep dimples on each cheek made an appearance as he returned Charlie to the box and took a deep breath.

Shawn stared at him. Hard. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Laughing at the possibility his daughter’s pet could be dying right there?

The vet cocked his head and smiled at Clementine. “Charlie is going to be okay.”

“He is?” she squealed. “Promise?”

Shawn shook his head as the vet nodded. “Dr. Copeland—”

“Logan,” he offered. “You can call me Logan.”

Shawn met his gaze and there went that surge to his toes again. Fuck. What was up with this guy? “Logan.” He raked his fingers through his shaggy hair and wished he’d made time for a haircut recently. “Um, I’m Shawn.” He sighed. He was losing his train of thought. He glanced at the box. Right…Charlie! “How can you say he’s okay? That lump. It wasn’t there before.”

Logan cleared his throat and swallowed, and Shawn couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s Adam’s apple, bobbing up and down. He wondered how Logan tasted…right there.