Snowed In: Shawn and Logan

Chapter 1 Shawn “Please hurry, Daddy! He could die!” The high-pitched wails of despair originating from the back seat had been assaulting his ears for at least ten minutes, and if Shawn hit one more damn red light he was going to lose what little patience he had left. “Don’t scream, honey. You’ll scare Charlie.” His calm voice belied his own worry, though. “But he could die,” she insisted. Again. Please don’t die, he begged silently. God, if Charlie didn’t make it…he didn’t even want to think about the prospect. “Daddy! It’s green.” He could almost feel her eyes rolling behind him. Wasn’t six a little young to have that kind of attitude about parents? He sighed deeply as he pressed the gas and finally—finally—turned left onto 75th Street. Their destination finally in sight, the tightness in his chest began to subside. Surely they would know what to do. They probably handled this kind of thing all the time. He glanced at the sky, sending another quick prayer to whatever Supreme Being might be in charge of small miracles for the day, and blew out a hard breath. He was able to pull right up to the door, as the parking lot was nearly empty. Not the usual thing for a late Friday afternoon, but the gray clouds were threatening the area with more snow than they’d seen all year. Other people were smart—they were home, under a blanket, preferably sipping hot cocoa. Shit. When had he become a Hallmark dad? Friday nights used to be made for partying, throwing back a few beers, hooking up…now it was all Disney movies and smoothies and pink ponies with rainbow tails. And Charlie. He scrubbed his hand over his face, the cold air biting at his skin as soon as he turned off the engine and opened the door. He jumped out and turned to help just as the back passenger door flung open and his daughter flew by in a streak of orange. “Come on, Daddy!” Shawn pushed the door closed and rushed to catch up with her. He was used to her running—his daughter had only two speeds: whirlwind or asleep—but he didn’t like her running in a parking lot, no matter how close they were to the entrance. He was going to sit her down and have another talk with her about being aware of her surroundings. She was incredibly impulsive and had a one-track mind. Now wasn’t the time, though. He held open the door and gestured for her to go inside. “Walk, Clem. No running,” he reminded her. She sniffled as she nodded solemnly, cradling the shoebox to her chest. “Can I help you?” God, I hope so. Shawn nodded at the woman seated behind the counter, noting her playful red and white Minnie Mouse scrub top with “Andrea” stitched in black on the upper left section. She flipped her long black braid off her shoulder and smiled down at his daughter, wrinkles crinkling around her eyes and mouth. The compassion in her warm brown eyes gave her a youthful appearance. The too-bright pink lipstick looked a little out of place, but he wasn’t going to judge. “We don’t have an appointment, but—” “It’s Charlie. He’s dying!” His daughter raised the green and white box and blinked back the tears in her pale blue eyes. He squatted next to her and brushed a wayward white-blonde curl behind her ear. “Honey, we don’t know that. Let’s let the doctor have a look at him.” “That’s right. You come on back and Dr. Copeland will have a looksee, okay?” He caught Andrea’s gaze and nodded. She was probably used to these situations, but he certainly wasn’t, and he was glad to have someone lead him through this. s**t, if he had to bury Charlie less than two months after he’d arrived…well, “worst Christmas present ever” ran through his mind, quickly followed by “worst gift-giver. #DadFail.” He sent up another prayer, promising if Charlie made it, he’d never complain about cleaning his cage again. Anything to not traumatize Clem. He stood at the counter and quickly filled out some basic information—name, address, pet information—before they followed Andrea through a door and into a small room to the right. Judging by the size of the metal exam table, Shawn assumed this was where they saw the smaller animals. He reached for the box from his daughter and set it on the small table. She flopped into the plastic orange chair in the corner and folded her arms, her gaze sweeping the room. When she spied a Highlights magazine on the counter across from them, her eyes lit up and she bounced over, mind already zeroed in on that. He lifted the lid and snuck a glimpse at Charlie. He wasn’t moving, but that was par for the course. Charlie had to be the laziest hamster on the planet. He scoffed at his wheel, turned up his nose at the exercise ball, preferring to use it to nap, and he had no desire to be held or played with. But the furry little guy excelled at one thing—Charlie ate like he hadn’t seen food in weeks. Shawn tried to measure out his food, but he kept gaining weight. In fact, he’d become so “fluffy,” Shawn had removed the plastic tube Charlie occasionally crawled through because he kept getting stuck. 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? f**k, 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 c****d 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. f**k. 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. The vet glanced at Clementine again and pursed his lips for a moment, then met Shawn’s gaze. “So, Charlie doesn’t have a lump, or growth, or anything that could hurt him. Charlie is…maturing,” he explained, his gaze boring into Shawn, eyes twinkling. It took a minute for the word to sink in. Holy s**t. Shawn’s mouth gaped as he stared at Logan. He’d rushed to the vet in a panic because the hamster’s testicles had descended? Logan smiled, clearly understanding that his explanation had sunk in. “No charge,” he added, his lips twitching with amusement. Shawn had never felt so embarrassed. Heat flooded his face as he picked up the box. “Thank you.” “Daddy, Charlie’s going to be okay!” He nodded, attempting to tug her along. Now that the fear had subsided, she was more interested in talking to the vet. “You have paw prints on your shirt and your pants,” she pointed out. He laughed. “I do. I also have a set just like this with Snoopy on it, too.” She jumped in delight and pulled her hand from Shawn’s to clap. “My daddy has a Snoopy shirt! And Snoopy pajamas!” Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” Heat flashed in his eyes. “I’d sure like to see that…sometime.” Holy cow, the heat flashing in Logan’s eyes would melt any snow headed their way. He focused on his daughter, still too embarrassed by the whole hamster testicle thing. “Clem, we have to go. Zip up your coat, honey. It’s still cold out.” “It’s going to snow,” she informed Logan. “A lot.” “I know. This is my first snow. I just moved here from Florida.” Florida to Windy Oaks, Missouri? That was definitely a change. “Make sure you’re prepared in case the power goes out,” Shawn advised. “I’m in a hotel down the road until the moving van arrives tomorrow. Hampton Inn off Highway 76.” Why was he sharing that with Shawn? “Well, they’re probably set for the storm. Come on, Clem. We’ve got to get you to Grandma and Grandpa’s house before the snow starts.” “Yay! I get to spend the night there! Two nights,” she confided to Logan in a loud whisper. “We’re going to make Valentine’s cookies. With sprinkles.” “I bet they turn out yummy!” She nodded seriously. “But we can only have one because we’re saving them for Valentine’s Day on Sunday. Grandma says we have to keep our eyes on Grandpa ‘cause he tries to steal them. Especially ones with frosting. We’re going to make heart ones and chocolate chip ones and peanut butter ones.” Shawn bit back a smile and watched her tick each kind of cookie on her fingers. She was on a roll and he knew what that was like. To give Logan credit, the man followed along, staying engaged with Clem. She tended to wear out some people, but the hot vet seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. He snuck a peek at the vet’s hand. No ring. Shawn hadn’t dated—truly dated—in years. His parents took Clem one weekend a month to give him some down-time. He used to go out one of those nights and find a guy to hook up with, but maybe he’d outgrown that, because he just couldn’t find the interest for the bars or clubs anymore. God, was he already an old man at thirty-two? His gaze landed on Logan’s muscled thighs and heat spread through his belly as he imagined being trapped between them. f**k, he liked a strong man. Liked feeling the weight of a man on him. And Logan oozed strength. Shawn’s felt flush at the dirty images filling his mind. Now was not the time, he chastised himself. “Daddy, right?” He stared at his daughter and blinked. “What? I’m sorry. My mind wandered.” He dared a glance at Logan and his breath caught when he saw his hazel eyes crinkling with amusement. Damn. Busted again. The way Logan looked at him told Shawn the vet knew exactly where his mind had been wandering. Clem stomped her foot to let him know she was exasperated. “Your favorite cookies are the heart ones, right?” He tore his gaze from Logan. “Uh, right. Yes. Favorites. Mine.” Good God, could he try to remember how to talk? It was bad enough he’d rushed Charlie to the vet for descended testicles, but now he was making a fool of himself over the sexy veterinarian. “I’ll bring some home and we can bring you some for Valentine’s Day, okay, Dr. Copeland?” Logan laughed. “I would love some cookies. But we’re not open Sunday.” She brought her finger to mouth and tapped away as she thought—a habit she got from Shawn. She liked to mimic him. Her eyes widened and she smiled. “You can come over Sunday! I’ll be back from Grandma and Grandpa’s house and I’ll have lots of cookies. Right, Daddy?” Shit. “Um, honey, I’m sure Dr. Co—I mean, Logan—already has plans for Valentine’s Day.” Logan stepped around the exam table and leaned forward. “Actually, my Sunday is wide open,” he confided, his hot breath skimming Shawn’s cheek. Shawn gulped. Was Logan messing with him? Trying to be nice because of Clem? “Um, well, sure…why don’t you stop by Sunday around three?” Logan grinned and c****d his head. “I would love to. Thanks for the invite, Clementine.” She scrunched up her face as she stared back at him. “Why are you alone on Valentine’s Day? It’s the day for love.” Shawn nearly choked. “Honey, that’s not polite. You’re asking personal questions.” Clementine harrumphed and shrugged. “Why? You don’t love anybody either, Daddy.” Logan chuckled while Shawn grabbed her hand and tried to pull her along. “Yes, I do.” Logan’s eyebrows rose as their gazes met. “I love you, Clem. You’re my Valentine.” She giggled. “I know that. I mean you don’t have a boyfriend.” She turned her attention to Logan. “He’s a good daddy and makes yummy chicken.” Holy s**t. She was trying to play matchmaker. He narrowed his eyes at his daughter. Here he’d thought she was just being innocent by inviting Logan over for cookies and she’d had an ulterior motive the whole time. The doc didn’t need to know he was a good daddy…or that he’d love to call Logan “Daddy” while they were naked and sweaty and…fuck, he needed to get out of there. “Clem, that’s enough.” He finally glanced at Logan again and shook his head. “I’m sorry. She’s…got ideas. Um, I guess you need my address.” Logan glanced at the paperwork on the clipboard. “Looks like I’ve got it. If you’re sure I should still come by?” “Of course! You saved Charlie!” They both laughed at that and Shawn nodded. “Of course.” “You live on Poplar Lane?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raising. “Yeah. Why?” Logan chuckled low. “Nothing. I’ll see you…Sunday.” Okay, that was weird. The guy nearly tripped over the word Sunday. “Okay. Stay safe. Snow could be coming in tonight.” “Will do. See you later. Bye, Clementine,” he called as she trailed behind her dad, waving goodbye.