“What?” Hope and Danielle asked at the same time.
“This house. I want it.”
She’d never been surer about anything. Ever.
****
Orion opened his eyes and blinked in the dim lighting. He turned his head to his left and saw the machines beside the bed, hisses and soft clicks sounding as his vitals were monitored. He raised his left arm, pulling slightly on a few wires and a tube.
The hospital. How did I get here?
Then he remembered the beautiful blonde woman with the sharp green eyes who had said she’d get him help. Apparently she’d been real and had done as she’d said she would.
A woman who kept promises. That’s different.
He made a move to sit up, but something didn’t feel right. His right leg. Why couldn’t he feel it? In one quick pull, he ripped off the blankets covering him from the waist down and struggled to raise himself up.
“Easy, there,” a female voice said from the doorway of the room.
Orion quickly yanked the blankets back over himself as he squinted toward the hallway, light pouring in around a lovely female silhouette.
“Sorry,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She silently entered the room, but in the low lighting, Orion still couldn’t see her all that clearly. Her voice was familiar though.
“You’re the one who called the ambulance?” he asked.
Her hair slid over her shoulder as she shook her head, and even in the shadows, Orion could tell that hair was silky soft. Not that it mattered. His fingers weren’t going to get anywhere near that hair. No, sir. Not going to happen.
“My friend did. I was the one who found you bleeding in my new living room.” She leaned toward the wall behind the bed and pushed something that made a small light come on. Her lips were turned up in a friendly smile that appeared harmless enough, but Orion knew better. Females were never—ever—harmless.
Well, except maybe his little Myah. She was pure sweetness and he’d make sure she stayed that way.
“I’m Sage Stannard.”
She held out her hand, and he stared at it, hesitating to touch her. That was how it started. You shook a woman’s hand and the next thing you knew, you’d fallen for her. A few years later, however, while you thought everything was wonderful and everyone was happy, she’d stab you right in the heart with a blunt, rusty three-foot sword blade. And she wouldn’t stab you once either. Oh, no. Multiple stabs until your heart was Swiss cheese.
“Don’t shake hands where you come from, Mr. Finley?” Her hand was still hovering over him, her wonderfully long fingers wiggling slightly now.
“Did you say Stannard?” he asked, still regarding her hand as if it were radioactive.
“Uh-huh, and I assure you, this hand is clean. I do a lot of baking so clean hands are important to me.” She smiled again, but Orion knew it to be part of her bag of female tricks. He wasn’t falling for it. No way.
“Are you related to Rick Stannard?” Questions. Questions would keep him from touching her.
“He’s my cousin. You know him?” She finally lowered her hand and shoved it into the pocket of her flowered shorts. Shorts that led to remarkably long and toned legs. Clearly this woman did not sit on her ass all day.
“Rick built my workshop barn.”
“It must be a spectacular place to work. My Ricky’s a genius when it comes to barn building.” Her smile now radiated pride in her cousin’s craftsmanship.
“It’s my favorite place to be.”
“What kind of work do you do there?” She set a floppy-looking purse down on the end of his bed. How long did she plan to stay? And did he want her to leave?
No.
That settled it. Trouble was coming. Soon.
“I carve stuff.”
She laughed. “Not much for words are you, Mr. Finley? What kind of ‘stuff’ do you carve?” Now she sat on the small chair beside the bed and crossed those magnificent legs.
“All kinds of stuff. Out of logs. Using chainsaws.”
At that information, her eyes widened, showing more of that stunning emerald color. A man could get enchanted by eyes like those if he wasn’t careful. If he wasn’t Orion Finley, Super Careful Man.
“You made that moose at the rest stop on Route 91, didn’t you?” She moved to the edge of her seat now, her hands resting on the bed inches from his arm.
“Yeah. That’s Wilbur.”
“Wilbur?” She laughed again and the sound relaxed Orion’s tensed muscles. Not good that she had that effect on him.
“My daughter named him.”
“Oh!” She popped out of her seat. “You have a daughter. Does that mean you have a wife I should be calling? I have some friends at this hospital. They just took you in, no questions asked, as a favor to me, but you have family. I should call them for you.”
She rummaged around in her purse and took out a cell phone. Her cheeks were a little pink now as if she were flustered over the fact that he may actually belong to someone.
He’d tried to belong to someone. That someone hadn’t wanted him.
“What’s the number, Mr. Finley?” Her thumbs were poised over the phone’s touch screen.
“How do you know my name?” And why did he want to hear her call him Orion instead?
“Oh… umm… I snooped in your wallet.” She looked away. “I always prefer to know the names of the men I rescue. Forgive me?” A smile flashed again.
It was getting harder to not return the smile.
“As long as you didn’t help yourself to the millions of dollars in that wallet, I’ll forgive you.” Now that sounded like flirting to him. Flirting coming out of his own mouth.
Dammit.
“I must have missed all that cash. I was far too concerned about your injuries, Mr. Finley.”
“Mr. Finley is my father. I’m Orion.”
She nodded once. Just a quick movement of her head. “Orion.”
Yep. As he expected. His name on her lips sounded like something divine.
“Like the constellation?” she asked as she passed her cell phone from one hand to the other. Back and forth. As if she wasn’t sure what else to do with her hands.
I’ve got some ideas.
Shit, no, he didn’t. No ideas. None.
Shaking his head, he said, “My father was a fisherman in Rhode Island before he retired and moved to Vermont. He and my mother had spent a lot of time out on the water, stargazing, before I was born.”
“And Orion had a better ring to it than Little Dipper?”
He couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out of his throat. Damn her.
“So how does that feel anyway?” She gestured to his leg, still under the blankets.
“I actually don’t feel it at all. What does that mean?”
“It means that modern medicine has come up with fabulous ways of helping gunshot victims not feel any pain when a bullet had to be dug—yes, I said dug—out of your thigh.” She closed her eyes and shivered as if the thought of someone poking around inside his leg made her queasy.
It didn’t make him feel all that great either.
“You lost a great deal of blood, much of it on the couch in my new living room, and the fine doctors at St. Jamesbury Memorial Hospital were kind enough to replace that blood. Nothing vital was hit, but you’ll be off your feet for a bit while it mends. Got a few staples in you to keep it closed too. They want to keep you in the hospital for a few days to keep an eye on you.”
He let that information turn around in his mind. Being off his feet for a while was going to suck royally, not to mention fuck up his timetable on the three bears he was supposed to be carving. Maybe he could get Adam to help him. Orion never let a customer down. He wasn’t about to start doing that now.
Sage tapped her cell phone. “Should I call your father, Orion, or your… wife?”
“My ex-wife will just be pissed she didn’t think of putting a bullet in me herself,” he sai
d.
“Oh, I see.” Her facial expression softened. A woman capable of compassion? Who was this Sage Stannard? An alien female, perhaps, clearly not poisoned by the methods of human women.
Yet.
“And how exactly did you end up with a bullet in your leg if it wasn’t your ex-wife?” Sage asked.
“I’m guessing a hunter. I was in my woods selecting trees for my next carvings. I heard dogs and shots in the distance. Guess they were closer than I thought.” He shrugged and lifted the blankets to get a glimpse of his bandaged thigh. At least everything looked tidy and dry down there. He recalled the slickness of his own blood oozing out of him and his stomach churned at the memory.
What would have happened if Sage hadn’t found me?
He didn’t like where that scenario was headed. Thankfully, it hadn’t gotten to that point. Sage had found him. Found him and seen that he’d been taken care of properly.
But now she must have been eager to pass him off to people who were supposed to care about him.
“Can I borrow your phone?” he asked.
“Sure.” Sage handed it to him. “You want me to give you some privacy?” She motioned to the door.
He shook his head as he dialed. “Stay, please.” He definitely didn’t like how much he wanted her to stay.
She sat on the chair again, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Surely she had better things to do than sit by the bedside of a perfect stranger. He’d make this call then send her on her way. She’d already done more than enough for him. More than Adriana would have done if they were still married.
“Adam,” he said when his buddy answered the phone.
“Dude, where are you?” Adam asked. “Did something happen to your phone? Your father has called me in a panic twice. I was about to go over there.”
“Shit, sorry. Can you go over there? I had a little… accident, I guess you’d call it. My phone is in pieces. I’m in the hospital.”
“What? Are you okay, man? What happened?” Adam’s voice rose higher with each question.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a pesky bullet wound.”
Sage snickered beside him, and he found himself grinning at her.
Stop that. Stay vigilant, man. Don’t let her wear you down.
“Well, I guess a bullet wound is better than cutting off any key appendages with one of your chainsaws.”
“This is true.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can you check on my dad? He’s not going to understand why I’m not there, and I need to stay in the hospital for a few.” He sifted out a breath through his teeth. If his father was left alone too long, bad things could happen.
“Not to worry, man. I’m on it. I can stay over there tonight, but I will drink any beer you have in your fridge and ransack your kitchen for the good potato chips.”
“Have at it. Thanks, Adam. I owe you.”
“No problem. Call me in the morning and we’ll arrange for someone to take care of your dad. I can come get your sorry, apparently shot, ass too.”
“It’s my leg, not my ass, dickhead.”
“Whatever. Later.”
Adam was still laughing when Orion pressed the screen to end the call. He held the phone out to Sage. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
He could tell she wanted to ask questions about his conversation, about what was wrong with his father, about why his ex-wife would want to shoot him, but he wasn’t going to answer any of those questions. Sage had done her Good Samaritan duty, but he didn’t owe her any explanations.
Something on his face must have conveyed what he’d been thinking, because Sage stood and stuffed her phone into her purse. “I should let you rest.”
He nodded, not sure what to say.
“Maybe…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Maybe I could come check on you in the morning? I have this thing where I like to make sure the men I drop off at the hospital are okay.”
“Do you drop off lots of men at the hospital?” Orion let his gaze travel from her shimmery, straight blonde hair down to the neon green toenails in her silver flip-flops. She definitely looked as if she could send men to the hospital. His own heart was feeling a little racy in her presence.
“No. You’re the first, but I’d like to set a nice bedside precedent for myself.” She arched a slender, blonde brow. “Besides, I need to get an address so I know where to send the bill for the new couch you’re going to buy me. You know, because you bled all over mine.”
“Fair enough. My apologies. Cressen’s place borders my property. I was closer to her house than mine. I thought maybe I could tend to my injury or call 911 from there, but the phone service had been turned off already and I never got around to finding any medical supplies.”
“Still, you could have been neater about your bodily fluids, Orion.”
He smiled at her and mentally chastised himself. Man, she was fucking charming. “You’re really buying Cressen’s place?”
“Yes, despite the bloody footprints, I love the house and the land.” She headed for the door. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “I have a feeling I’m going to like the neighbors as well.” With a quick wink, she was gone.
But her scent wasn’t. Maple syrup and… peanut butter. No way a man could resist a woman who smelled like that.
Most men anyway. Orion, however, was not most men.
Chapter Four
“And that is how I got the nickname Beam Me Up Scotty.”
Sage laughed, but it didn’t sound genuine to her. Did it sound genuine to Scott? She didn’t want to be rude. He seemed like a perfectly nice guy. The problem, however, was that she hadn’t stopped thinking about Orion since she’d left his room at the hospital. How could a woman forget those piercing blue eyes, that thick crop of jet-black hair, that dark scruff of a beard around some crazy wonderful lips? She’d tried to scrub his image out of her mind as she got ready for her date with Scott, but she just didn’t have soap that powerful.
“Do you want another drink?” Scott motioned to her empty wine glass.
Sage looked up to meet his gaze. He had friendly brown eyes, a nice smile, a clean-shaven face, and short, blond hair. He was dressed appropriately for a first date on a summer night in Vermont—clean jeans and a green polo shirt he’d tucked in. The man had even dug out a brown leather belt. He was almost too neat and pretty to be a police officer in Sage’s opinion. A little too clean-cut. Not dangerous enough. Not I-could-kick-your-ass enough. In fact, she was certain she could beat him in an arm-wrestling match with little effort.
Now I’m just being mean.
Scott was fine. He’d taken her to St. Jamesbury’s attempt at fine dining: The Golden Maple. It was her that was wrong. Who got hung up on a man one had only known for a few hours? A man one had found bleeding in the house one planned to buy. A man one knew absolutely nothing about.
Except that he was a chainsaw artist.
Except that he had a daughter.
Except that he was divorced… and it didn’t sound as if he was too happy about that fact.
Except that he was quite possibly the hottest guy she’d ever seen in real life.
She puffed out a breath of air, slowly deflating her lungs as she searched her brain for a polite yet quick way to end this date.
“I’m all set.” She tapped her wine glass. “Dinner was fabulous.” That was true. Her chicken marsala had been cooked to perfection. It was better than her mother’s, and Joy Stannard knew how to cook chicken better than anyone.
“Would you like some dessert?” Scott arched a blond brow as he asked the question. Did dessert mean sugar or sex? Or both?
Normally, Sage would agree to sugar and sex. She wasn’t above simply scratching an itch, but tonight… tonight it didn’t feel right.
She smoothed the front of the green cotton sundress she wore. “Umm… actually, I think I’m full.” And ready to go home.
Scott’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Okay.”
Sage reached across the t
able and rested her hand on his forearm. “Look, Scott, you seem like a magnificent guy.”
“But?” He drummed the fingers of his free hand on the table as he arrowed the full force of his stare at her.
Maybe he is a little tougher than I gave him credit for. She could easily see a suspect crumbling under his brown-eyed gaze now.
“But I don’t think there’s a spark here, do you?” She gestured with her hand between them. He had to feel the lack of fire too, didn’t he?
“I think we haven’t given this a chance yet.” He put his hand over hers on his forearm and lightly stroked her fingers. “I think we shouldn’t make a decision until we’ve had a second date. What do you say?”
A reasonable request. Undoubtedly. But even now her brain was wandering to Orion. Was he all alone at the hospital? Did someone bring his daughter by to see him? Was his friend he called taking good care of his father who obviously needed overseeing for some reason? Was he in pain?
Was he thinking about her?
“I have to go, Scott. It was a true pleasure meeting you. I mean that. Let me pay for my half here.” She dug in her purse for her wallet.
“You wound me, Sage,” he said. “Maybe this didn’t go exactly as I’d imagined it, but my mother raised a gentleman.” He took the check and slid his credit card onto the little tray. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’m still not convinced it can’t.” He produced a business card from the pocket of his jeans and pushed it across the table to Sage.
She picked it up. Detective Scott Henrison, St. Jamesbury PD. His phone number and email were below the police department’s emblem of a golden balance scale and a green maple leaf. It screamed, “THIS GUY COULD BE PERFECT FOR YOU, SAGE STANNARD,” but she ignored that proclamation.
How long before I realize this moment was a grave mistake?
“Thanks again.” She put her hand out to shake his and tried her best not to see the disappointment in his eyes.
He obliged her with a reciprocal handshake then stood as she did. “I hope our paths cross again.”
She smiled and thought maybe she would call him after she saw Orion again. After she realized she couldn’t be interested in a chainsaw artist she’d just met.
More Than Cookies (The Maple Leaf Series) Page 3