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After washing off Fidget’s paw, Lucas carried him to the bed of his truck and laid him gently down on the plaid wool blanket he kept back there. Fidget would probably limp for a couple of days but he’d be fine.
Not so much things with him and Megan. Something had shifted between them while he tended to Fidget. For one thing, he now had the fragrance of her hair lodged in his memory. Light, like orange blossom. But also spicy, like cinnamon. He’d inhaled a few times just to pin down the scent. And now he wanted more chances to sample it.
She’d been so solid during the whole incident. She hadn’t flinched once while Fidget whined and squirmed. There had been no sign of a panic attack or a flashback to another traumatic event. Was that because a workplace shooting bore no resemblance to
