Table of Contents
Epilogue - Enzo
Epilogue - Neela
Epilogue - Jayce
Epilogue - Miley
Epilogue
Join my Mailing List
Neela
Enzo
Bonus Content - Knocked Up and Punished
Miley
Jayce
Want more from this series?
Bonus Content - Dark
Julia
Leo
Ted
Angelo
Want More Citrione Men?
Also By Penelope Bloom
Baby for the Beast
Penelope Bloom
Contents
1. Join my Mailing List
2. Neela
3. Enzo
4. Neela
5. Enzo
6. Neela
7. Enzo
8. Neela
9. Enzo
10. Neela
11. Enzo
12. Neela
13. Enzo
14. Neela
15. Enzo
16. Neela
17. Enzo
18. Neela
19. Enzo
20. Neela
21. Epilogue - Enzo
22. Epilogue - Neela
23. Bonus Content - Knocked Up and Punished
24. Miley
25. Jayce
26. Miley
27. Jayce
28. Miley
29. Jayce
30. Miley
31. Jayce
32. Miley
33. Jayce
34. Miley
35. Jayce
36. Miley
37. Miley
38. Epilogue - Jayce
39. Epilogue - Miley
Want more from this series?
40. Bonus Content - Dark
41. Julia
42. Leo
43. Julia
44. Leo
45. Julia
46. Leo
47. Julia
48. Leo
49. Julia
50. Leo
51. Julia
52. Leo
53. Julia
54. Ted
55. Leo
56. Julia
57. Leo
58. Julia
59. Leo
60. Julia
61. Leo
62. Julia
63. Leo
64. Julia
65. Julia
66. Angelo
67. Leo
68. Julia
69. Leo
70. Julia
71. Leo
72. Julia
73. Leo
74. Julia
75. Leo
Epilogue
76. Want More Citrione Men?
77. Join my Mailing List
Also By Penelope Bloom
1
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2
Neela
I take a deep breath, stripping off my latex gloves carefully to make sure I don’t splatter blood on my scrubs. I just finished a two-hour surgery on a hundred pound husky and removed a tumor the size of a golf ball from his stomach. There’s a glow of satisfaction in my chest. All the time and hard work I put into becoming a veterinarian feels worth it when I’m exhausted after a successful surgery. Sending sick pets home with medication or trying to convince owners to spend the money their pets need to get healthy is often more frustrating than therapeutic. At least in the surgery room, I’m able to get my hands directly on the problem and fix it.
I’ve always liked fixing problems, and I’ve always been good at it, too.
"You're good?" I ask Crystal, my lead vet tech. She's short, and one of the youngest vet techs we have, but I respect the competence and focus she brings with her every day. She reminds me of a younger version of myself, which makes me the most humble person in the world for liking her, of course. She's in her early twenties while I'm turning thirty in a couple of months. When I was her age, my drive to make it to where I am always pushed me to do everything carefully and to do it well.
“All set,” Crystal says as she efficiently cleans up the scalpel blades and materials I left behind.
I give her a quick smile before heading into the lab area to check on a blood sample. It’s the last item on my to-do list before I can meet my sister, Jess, for lunch. I find Mike already checking it for me. He’s abnormally tall and has an easy-going manner that I’ve always appreciated. “Hey Doc, check these platelets out. I swear one of them looks like JFK.”
I roll my eyes but peek into the microscope anyway. All I see are globby little red circles, as usual. Mike spends way too much time analyzing blood and fecal samples because he's always claiming to see this and that under the microscope. The only thing I ever agreed with him on was the time he saw a red blood cell that looked like one of those pillows people wrap around their necks on long flights. "Hmm. Not seeing anything," I say.
Mike frowns and then looks again. “Shit. I swear it was just in there.”
“Are you going to have the bloodwork done for room three soon?” I ask. “They’ve been waiting over an hour already.”
Mike gives me his patented smile and waves me off. “Doc, I took care of it. You know I’ve got you.”
“What about the treatment plan?”
“Took care of that too.”
Technically, a vet tech should've never written up treatment plans for patients. That's most of the reason I went to veterinary school and studied my ass off. Vet techs are the nurses of the veterinary world, but depending on the clinic, they can sometimes be trained on the job. Thankfully, my hospital only hires certified vet techs, which means they've studied all the same information as I do, but with less emphasis on diagnosis more on the day-to-day hands-on tasks in the hospital like administering vaccines, prepping for surgery, and educating pet owners. My job is to prescribe the proper treatment when something is wrong. However, after having worked with me nearly a year, Mike has had time to absorb my usual treatment plans for everyday issues.
The control freak in me still wants to go back and make sure he did everything right, but I can wait until after lunch to do that. I might’ve done something similar in his position to earn a little respect from my superior, and I don’t want to undermine his confidence, so I play along. “Well, well, well. Look at Mr. Capable over here.”
Mike takes an over-dramatic bow. “Don’t thank me too much. I was just vibing on the power trip.”
“Vibing on the…” I sigh and shake my head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. But I think I have to keep you.”
“Good, because you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”
I meet my sister for lunch at our usual spot just a few miles from the clinic. We have a view of downtown from the second floor of the coffee shop, but we're not so deep into the city that I feel claustrophobic. I find her sitting at a table by the windows with Cassie, an old friend of ours from high school, and a man I've never seen
before. Jess and I have been meeting for lunch at this shop for a little over a year now, pretty much ever since I finished veterinary school. In all that time, she's never brought a friend.
I do my best not to act weird though. We’ve known Cassie for a long time, even if we don’t keep in touch as much anymore, and I don’t want her to feel like she’s unwelcome.
“Hey,” I say cheerily, sitting down beside Jess. Cassie smiles and her guy friend just gives a lazy tilt of his head.
Jess and I have the Crowley family genes running strong through us. We both have the brown hair and shortness of my mother. Jess got a little more of my father’s face, with a strong nose and chin that she makes look feminine and striking.
Cassie was always the picture-perfect prom queen type. I’m surprised now to see the dark circles under her eyes and the tired expression. Judging by the stiff way Jess is sitting beside me, I don’t think Cassie joining us was her idea, either.
“Hey, girl,” Cassie says, who despite her tired face, at least sounds normal. “This is my boyfriend, Cade.”
The guy nods, and I find myself averting my eyes almost immediately after meeting his. They send a cold shiver down my back. He's pale and almost gaunt with tattoos peeking out from beneath his collar and sleeves, but that wasn't what made me flinch from his eyes. It was the way he was watching me like he was studying me.
“I’m just going to go order a sandwich or something,” I say, standing up. “Anyone want something?”
“I already ordered,” Jess says with a smile that’s not quite relaxed.
“I’m okay,” Cassie says.
Her boyfriend just stares.
I walk away, trying to shake the feeling that he’s still watching me as I order a turkey sandwich and an espresso. I’m relieved to hear Cassie and Jess talking normally when I come back, even if her boyfriend is still making me uncomfortable.
“...she should,” says Jess.
“She should what?” I ask, sitting back down.
“I was just asking why I never see you with a boyfriend on your arm,” Cassie remarks. “You’re too pretty to let the best years of your life go by single.”
I reel back a little. As nice as it is for her to call me pretty, I’m not crazy about her implication that I’m in danger of letting the best years of my life go by. She makes it sound like I’m ancient, and not just barely coming up on my thirties. Besides, Cassie has never taken any real interest in my love life before now. I take another look at the dark circles under Cassie’s eyes and the way her boyfriend seems to be looming over her. Something must be going on, I decide. The Cassie I knew wouldn’t ever ask me something so obnoxious and rude. Be civil, Neela.
“Haven’t seen the need, I guess.” It’s mostly true. So many people can’t wrap their head around the idea of a woman who is happily single and equally happy to focus on her career. I have friends, a social life, and a great job. Why do I need to add a man to my life and risk complicating everything?
Mostly true. I won't deny that I've felt a nagging fear that I am letting something pass me by. In several years, it will be riskier to have children, and I'm not sure I'd have the energy to raise a baby in my late thirties or even my forties. I could adopt, but I'll blame my stupid hormones for making me feel like a baby of my own would be the only way to satisfy my desire completely.
Unfortunately, I’d need a man for that.
I give Cassie a mostly true answer, minus the depressing parts about me wanting a baby. “I tried dating, and it just felt like a bunch of wasted time. The guys I met never had any drive. They just wanted to party and goof around all the time. If I wanted to get through vet school, I needed to focus.”
“Those were college guys, Neela,” Cassie says. Her earnest smile softens some of the annoyance I felt a moment ago. She really is just trying to look out for me, I’m sure, even if she didn’t do it in the most tactful way. “Besides, you’re done with vet school now. Why wait?”
"Why are you so interested in my love life all of a sudden?" I ask.
She shrugs. “It’s not that. I was just asking Jess about it and got to thinking you deserved a hunk of your own.”
I look to Jess for some kind of support, but she only gives me an apologetic look. “She’s kind of right, Neela. I think there’s a guy out there that would make you so happy. And maybe you wouldn’t have enough time to keep texting me cat pictures at odd hours of the night if you were in a relationship,” she adds.
“You love the cat pictures…” I say, feeling a little hurt.
She grins. "I do," she lowers her voice and puts a hand on my wrist like she's preparing to explain something difficult to a small child. "Nobody needs to get texted a picture of ‘monorail cat' at two in the morning. Nobody.”
I deflate a little, but Jess smirks at me and gives me a soft little punch on the arm. “You know I love you, though.”
I’ve almost forgotten the chilling presence of Cassie’s boyfriend by this point, but I notice him again when he shifts to check his phone. He mutters something I can’t hear in Cassie’s ear and heads outside.
She looks a little put off, but smooths her expression and smiles again.
“Is everything okay with you two?” I ask Cassie once Cade is gone.
Her eyes immediately dart toward the door. She hesitates, but then shakes her head quickly. “We’re fine. Great, even. He’s just shy when he’s around new people. I know he comes off kind of scary, but he’s a sweetheart.”
I nod my head, not sure I completely believe her. Either way, she doesn't seem like she wants to talk about it, and pushing her anymore would be rude, so I let it drop.
"Even if I wanted to find a guy," I say picking back up the thread of dropped conversation from earlier. "I've never been a bar or club kind of person. So I doubt I'd have much luck unless I just wait around for a nice dog owner to show up at the clinic one day."
“Or,” Cassie says, “you could trust your friend to set you up with a guy you’d love.”
I raise an eyebrow. So that’s where this was leading. I suddenly feel like I’ve just been lured into a timeshare meeting. The trap has sprung. I keep waiting for Jess to bail me out, but my sister seems too interested in the idea of getting to hear the juicy details of my hypothetical first date after so many years to save me. “I don’t know,” I say. “Dating is bad enough, but a blind date sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
“Oh trust me. You’ll thank me when you see him.”
“When I see him? I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”
“Come on, Neela,” Cassie says. “He’s a lonely guy, and he needs this as much as you do. I’m trying to do it as a favor for him.”
I sigh. I’ve always been non-confrontational, and Cassie’s high-pressure sales technique is breaking down my reluctance bit by bit. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go on a date, even if it was a disaster. Even my dad has started asking about grandkids lately, which is totally out of character for him. He’s a grizzled old FBI director, but I guess he has shown more of a soft side in the past few years, especially since he and mom divorced.
“A lonely guy?” I ask. “You know that’s not the most appealing trait to lead with when you’re trying to set me up.”
"The lonely guy's name is Enzo, and he's the sexy kind of lonely," she says, leaning in and biting her lip. "He's only lonely because he works a lot, but he's trying to ease off that now and he wants a fresh start. A fresh start with someone new. I told him I knew the perfect person."
“Oh, well if you told him I’m perfect, I think I had better just stay home to save him the crushing disappointment of monorail cat memes at odd hours of the morning.”
“Come on, Neels,” Jess urges, looking at me imploringly. “I bet he’d love your weird texts.”
“I should probably sort of… disclose one thing about him...” Cassie looks a little conflicted about whether she wants to say what she’s about to say. “Cade said there are rumors that he’s
into some kinky stuff. You know, in the bedroom,” she whispers.
I feel a blush creep into my cheeks. Lonely. Sexy. And… kinky?
“No way,” Jess laughs. “Like what?”
Cassie shrugs, but watches me closely, trying to read my reaction before she seems willing to dole out more details. I must look intrigued because she continues. "Bondage and submission kind of stuff."
“As much as I appreciate you trying to help,” I say suddenly. “I think I’m going to have to pass. It just sounds like too much. Way too much.”
“Oh come on. It’s not like he’d throw a leather mask on for your first date and try to tie you up. He’s a normal guy. He probably just likes to pull out some handcuffs or silk scarves or something when the mood is right.” Cassie gives a little mischievous shrug. “I’ve always thought it’d be hot. Imagine a strong man tying you down, taking complete control, so that all you can do is wait for him to make his move, to…" She clears her throat and has the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I can tell him you aren't interested if you really want me to."