LITMIR.BIZ

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in on what her job would entail.

      Jazzy had worn a windbreaker this morning in deference to the weather and now flipped up the red hood as she and Brooks ran to his truck. He’d gone to her side with her to give her a hand up to climb in, but that meant he’d gotten even damper from the rain.

      Inside his truck, he took off his Stetson and brushed the raindrops outside before he closed the door. Then he tossed it into the backseat.

      “Where’s your jacket today?” she asked.

      “The same place yours was yesterday.”

      His crooked half smile and the curve of his lips had her thinking of other things than setting up his office. An unbidden thought popped into her head. What would it feel like to be kissed by Brooks Smith?

      No! She was not going there.

      Brooks looked away and she was glad because she was afraid he might read her thoughts. As he started up the truck, she said, “You need a name for the practice.” It was the first thing that she could think of to say.

      “I guess I can’t call it Smith’s Veterinary Practice, can I? That’s what my father uses. Any suggestions?”

      “Not off the top of my head. Once you pick a location, we might choose something geared to that.”

      “I like your ideas,” he said simply, and she felt a blush coming on because there was admiration in his voice. When was the last time someone told her they liked her ideas? At work, she just did what was pushed in front of her. Sure, she offered suggestions now and then, but nothing that really mattered. Brooks seemed to make everything matter.

      The rain poured down in front of them like sheets that they could hardly see through. Brooks didn’t seem to be anxious about it, though. He drove as if he drove in this weather all the time, keeping a safe distance from whatever taillights blinked in front of them, making sure he didn’t drive through puddles that were growing deep.

      They were well out of Kalispell when he asked, “So you think you can handle setting up the office? The printing for flyers and business cards and that type of thing will have to be done in Kalispell, but we can accomplish a lot of it through email. I know this is a big job—”

      Was he having second thoughts about her abilities? “I can handle it,” she said with more assurance than she felt.

      She must have sounded a little vehement because he cut her another glance. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed. There’s a lot to think about. We can farm out the website design.”

      “I can do it. I know I can, Brooks. I’ve taken night courses that I thought might be useful at the resort, and I’ve never gotten a chance to use a lot of what I learned, including web design and graphics. I even took a course in setting up a small business in case I ever get the chance to start up my rescue ranch. I’ve put my life on hold for too long. By helping you, I finally feel as if I’m moving forward.”

      He was silent for a few moments, then asked, “Did you have other things on hold, other than your job?”

      Was he fishing about her personal life? She could tell him about Griff—

      And maybe she would have. But the water was moving fast along both shoulders of the road. As she thought about Brooks’s broken engagement, how she’d told Griff she couldn’t see a future for them, the truck suddenly dipped into a hole hidden under a puddle. The jarring jolt would have been bad enough, but a loud pop like a gun going off accompanied it.

      Brooks swore and muttered, “I know that sound.”

      Their blow-out caused the truck to spin on the back tire until they faced the wrong direction. The vehicle hydroplaned on another puddle and they ended up near the guard rail on the opposite side of the road.

      It had all happened so fast, Jazzy almost felt stunned, like she’d been on some amusement-park ride that had gone amuck. Her brain was scrambled for a few seconds until she got her bearings and realized they were half on and half off the highway.

      Brooks unsnapped his seat belt and moved closer to her. “Are you okay?”

      “I think so.” Without conscious thought, she rubbed her shoulder. “We blew a tire?”

      He nodded. “I’m going to have to change it.”

      “Oh, Brooks. In this rain? I can call Cecelia or Dean.”

      “There’s no need for that. I’ve changed tires before. I’ve gotten wet before. It won’t take long, Jazzy, once I get us set up right. Trust me.”

      Trust him. Could she? She didn’t know if she could or not...yet. She’d be foolish if she trusted him on this short acquaintance. Yet she had seen enough to trust in his abilities, to trust that he’d do what he said he was going to do.

      His gaze ran over her again. “Let me get us over to the shoulder on the right side of the road so I can take care of the tire.”

      “I can help.”

      “Jazzy—”

      “We can argue about it or we can change the tire,” she said adamantly, not accepting a macho attitude from him any more than she would from Dean, her brother or her dad.

      “Are you going to tell me stubbornness is one of your virtues?” he asked warily.

      “Possibly. Apparently we both have the same virtue.”

      He shook his head. “Let’s get this done.”

      Jazzy was more shaken than she was letting on, and her shoulder did hurt. But she wouldn’t be telling Brooks about it. Testing it, she realized she could move it, and she wasn’t in excruciating pain. Those were both good signs. She could help Brooks and worry about her shoulder later.

      Brooks managed to steer the truck around and with the thump-thump-thump of the blown tire, they made it to the right side of the highway over to the paved shoulder. Thank goodness the shoulder was wide enough that they wouldn’t be in any danger as other vehicles passed.

      Brooks touched her arm. “Stay here. I’ve got this.”

      But she, of course, wouldn’t listen. She hopped out of the truck and met him at the rear of the vehicle.

      He shook his head. “You’re crazy. You’re going to get soaked.”

      “So we’ll be soaked together. I’ve helped my brother and dad change tires. I’m not inept at this.”

      He lowered the rear truck panel. “I didn’t think you were. Let me grab the spare and we’ll get this done quick.”

      “Quick” was a relative term, too, when changing a tire in the rain. Jazzy had tied her hood tightly around her face and she felt bad for Brooks when his shirt became plastered to his skin. But he didn’t complain and she didn’t, either, though she was cold and shivery. That was so much the better for her shoulder because it was aching some. The cuffs of her jeans were protected by her boots, but from thighs to below her knees, she was getting soaked.

      Twenty minutes later they were back in the truck with rain still sluicing down the front windshield.

      Brooks reached in the back and took a duffel from the seat. “I carry a spare set of duds in case a calf or a horse drags me into a muddy field. It has happened. How are you under that jacket?”

      Actually, the waterproof fabric had kept her fairly dry. “I’m good. Just my jeans are wet.”

      He switched on the ignition and the heater. “How’s your shoulder?”

      “Numb right now from the cold and damp.”

      He began unbuttoning his shirt.

      At first she just stared at the tan skin and brown curly hair he revealed as he unfastened one button and then the next. For some insane reason, she suddenly had the urge to move closer...and touch him.

      When his gaze met hers,

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