Her faculties might not have been at their best when she checked into Promise Cove initially, but there was nothing wrong with them now. Scott Phillips’ name had been right there on the sign at the bed and breakfast—something about how he founded the inn in 2009. “An interesting story there,” Eastlyn muttered.But it had been a flesh and blood man she’d seen on the beach. What did that mean?She mulled that over most of the night until she finally got dressed for work and made her way across the courtyard to the clinic. She let herself in at five-thirty and went directly back to the post-op area to check on the Delacourt dogs, Jax and Jazz. The pooches had undergone a spaying procedure the day before. Eastlyn opened the enclosure, noticed the two were livelier than they’d been when she checked on them at ten o’clock last night. Both doggies came over to lick her fingers. She used both hands to scratch ears and rub backs. “Well, girls, how are we doing this morning?” Eastlyn took hold of Jax’s snout and gazed into her big brown eyes.
