The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (freda ebook reader .txt) 📕

The clinic stopped taking patients at four, which meant it was at least five before I was usually done. I was still getting the overnight patients settled for the evening when a text came through.

Travis: Got a second to talk?

Me: Sure.

My screen changed as he called, only it was through FaceTime. Which, of course, because I looked like garbage. But I was too eager to see him. I tapped the icon to accept.

“Hi,” I said.

Like me, he appeared to be at work. The background behind him was just a white wall, but he was in his zoo uniform scrubs and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

“Hi,” he answered back. He had a huge smile, possibly the biggest I’d ever seen from him. Much too big for it simply to be him happy to see me.

Some of the animals in their crates around me were vocal with their displeasure about their accommodations for the evening, and it was hard to hear Travis over the barking.

“Hold on.” I darted out into the empty and quiet staff breakroom. “What’s up?”

“I meant to call you earlier,” he disappeared as he flipped the phone around, “but I got sidetracked by this little guy.”

A stall came into view, and the first thing to leap out was the black and white stripes. The camera panned from mom down to the newborn foal resting amongst the hay on the floor, his legs tucked to the side. As his mom ambled toward him, his dark ears twitched, and he turned his head to briefly nuzzle with her.

“Oh, my God! He’s gorgeous,” I said. The baby zebra was just as vividly striped as his mother, only his were more brown than black. He was just the cutest thing ever too. “How’d it go?”

“Great. He’s been up and walking already. Mom’s doing good too.”

This explained Travis’s huge smile. It was the first live birth he’d overseen since starting at the zoo, and I was so thrilled for him that it had been uneventful.

The camera swung back around so he came into view, and then he was on the move, walking away from the stalls.

“So, I don’t have a lot of time to talk,” he said, “but Clay called me.”

I paused, surprised. “Oh, yeah?”

He went through a door and out into a big hallway, which made his voice echo. “You should go over there tonight and talk to him.”

I was dubious. “Without you?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be here at least another eight hours, and it’s okay. We talked already.” There was a lightness in him, and I wondered if it was all from the new foal, or if part of it was a result of his discussion with Clay.

“What’d you talk about?”

Travis got to wherever he was going to, which must have been his office. He shut the door, unclipped his radio from his belt, and set it down on his messy desk so he could take a seat behind it. In the corner, I saw the cot where he’d probably slept last night.

“He apologized and he,” Travis’s voice filled with weight, “told me he loved me.”

The phone slipped out of my hand, landing with a loud thud on the breakroom table, and I scrambled to pick it up. “He did?”

“Yeah. It’s not the same way he loves you. Like you said, it’s more of a platonic thing.”

“What’d you say?”

His smile caused warmth to flood across my skin and my heart to go out of rhythm. His voice was as soft as his kiss could be, and just as powerful. “I told him I love him too.”

I lifted a shaky hand and pressed it over my mouth, overwhelmed. Holy shit. “What does this mean?”

“It means he really needs to talk to you.”

The radio on his desk crackled, and although the call wasn’t for him, it reminded us both that he could be pulled away at any moment. He leaned closer to the phone, looking so handsome and happy, I wished I could touch him through the screen.

“Okay,” I said. “You don’t want me to wait for you?”

“No, you can call me afterward though.” He blinked, considering something. “Hey. I love you.”

We’d spoken about it but hadn’t actually said it to each other. Not even Friday night when he’d been at my place. Was it strange that I liked how the men had said it to each other first, before me?

I grinned. “I love you too.”

We said goodbye, and as soon as the call disconnected, I thumbed out my message to Clay.

Me: My schedule just cleared up. What time do you want me to come over?

TWENTY-SEVEN

After a shower, I got dressed in a cowlneck sweater, jeans, and a pair of plaid pumps with a pointed toe. I didn’t head over early to Clay’s house like I used to. I’d stick to the plan of meeting at seven and rang his doorbell at precisely that time, so there’d be no surprises.

When he opened the door, I was struck by how different he looked.

He brightened and a big smile widened on his lips, announcing how glad he was to see me, but dark circles clung below his eyes. He looked tired. Maybe even exhausted. While I was sad to see him suffering, I wondered . . . were Travis and I the cause?

He gestured politely for me to come in, and once I stood in his entryway, he reminded me of how Travis had been after he’d left this house on Friday. His hands seemed to ache to reach for me, but he knew better.

Tension wove between us so thickly, it strangled back his words, and he barely got it out. “I’m sorry.”

Okay, that was good.

I’d expected him to say more, but then he just stood there, looking lost. Did he not have a plan for how this was supposed to go?

Noir peeked her head around the corner, saw it was me, and gave a friendly meow in greeting. She brushed up against the wall before turning around and doing it back