by Melody Anne
Just as he was beginning to reach the point of no return, she stiffened and pushed against him. He knew he could still seduce her, knew he could lift her into his arms and ravish her. But he also knew she’d hate him if he went too fast again.
“Stop.”
It was barely a whisper, panted from her moist lips as he eased back. It was all he needed to hear.
“I want you in my bed, Sage. I want you naked beneath me, crying out in pleasure. I want you so much I dream about you and wake up hungry and unsatisfied. I can feel how much you want me, too. Don’t keep fighting me. We can be great together.” He knew he should leave something to mystery, but, damn, he was aching.
She pushed against him. “No. You proved to me that I’m nothing. I don’t want you anymore.”
He set her free despite the infernal throbbing below his waist.
“I was in shock that you hadn’t had sex before. I’m sorry I left things the way I did. But, here’s the reality. We’re both single. We’re both adults. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of basic human needs.” Hmm. Did he need a little work on his bedroom talk? Maybe.
“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone, Spence, especially you. I’m a resident, and you know the kind of hours that means. Plus, you’re my boss. I am so not going to be a cliché and sleep with the boss. That night was a mistake and I’m glad you realized it, since I clearly wasn’t thinking. I think the lack of available women in our small town has you looking for anything near your age. We need to quit this game.”
“I may be a doctor, too, Sage, but some things happening in the body can’t be explained away so easily. I want you, you want me. There’s no reason for us not to be together.”
Spence should just leave this alone, should accept her rejection and leave. It’s what he normally would have done. If a girl didn’t show interest, then why waste his time? But since he couldn’t stop thinking about this woman, he knew that he had to see where this could lead.
“You have jet lag. Go home and sleep it off,” Sage said, moving over to the couch and sitting down, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them, looking so sweet and so many years younger than she actually was.
“Jet lag? Really? It’s only an hour-and-a-half flight from Seattle to Billings, and the time difference is only an hour,” he said with a chuckle. “No circadian rhythms were harmed in the making of this scene.”
“Are you mocking me, Spence?”
“No. Enjoying you.”
“Well, I don’t give you permission to enjoy me,” she told him with some heat.
“My dear Sage, you don’t get to decide that.” He walked over and leaned down, putting his face just inches from hers.
“I get to decide whom I date,” she said, emphasizing the m in whom—she wished to sound her starchiest—and leaning back as far as she could. It wasn’t far enough.
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to be too easy.”
“Did you just call me easy?”
“No, that’s one thing that could never be said about you,” he said with a laugh, then couldn’t resist brushing his lips across the tip of her nose. The move seemed to unsettle her. Good. He wanted her unsettled, wanted to bring a bit of chaos to her ordered life.
“I have to . . .” Dang. She couldn’t think of an excuse to make him leave.
He hadn’t known what he wanted when he found himself at her door, but right now he felt like singing in the hills. He’d shaken her up and learned she was far more susceptible to him than she wanted him to know. It was enough for now.
He’d let her take a deep breath and rest up, and then the next round would begin. “Have a great day, Sage.” He kissed her briefly, then walked from the room. He didn’t even try to stop the happy whistle that blew through his lips as he climbed down the front stairs.
“There is no way I’m going to that ranch for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Sage sat at her grandmother’s table with her lips pursed in frustration. Her grandma always cooked Thanksgiving dinner. It was tradition. Eileen always joined them, and they ate a scrumptious meal, then watched the football game on TV. That’s what they did. Always.
“I’m sorry, darling. I just haven’t been feeling well enough to cook a big holiday meal this year, and when Martin invited us over, I just . . .”
Sage instantly felt like the most horrible person on the planet. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I didn’t know you weren’t feeling well again. I can cook—okay, I can try, at least. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad.”
She couldn’t go to the Whitman place. No way. She’d managed to avoid Spence last night, since he’d first been in surgery and then she’d been in a roomful of people when he’d emerged from the OR. Thankfully, he didn’t attempt to kiss her in front of the rest of the hospital staff. That would have been mortifying.
Now, if he’d pulled her into one of the on-call rooms, slowly stripped . . . No! When had her mind started dwelling in the gutter? She’d been a straight-A student. She was controlled. Cautious. Responsible. Unlike so many others, she didn’t have affairs in on-call rooms. That wasn’t who she was. She’d screwed up in his hot tub, but no one was perfect. Still, she tried.
Why she was thinking about sex more than she was thinking about surgery was beyond her. She must be losing her mind. Maybe it was Montana. Probably something in the water. The population was so sparse, and because there weren’t enough people around, the politicians were secretly drugging their water with aphrodisiacs, making everyone want to mate and bring children into the world.
No! No! No! She would not think about children and Spence—and aphrodisiacs—at the same time. This was getting out of hand. She had to pull herself together. She was strong, dang it!
“I guess we could just stay home and have leftovers. I’ll have to break it to Eileen. She was really looking forward to spending the evening with Martin. I think there may be something going on between the two of them. They’ve been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but neither one wants to admit they have feelings. Oh, yes, Thanksgiving . . . Grace also said she wanted to come with us. You know she’s had a mighty heavy crush on Camden for a long time, and she’d never go without you, but I understand . . .”
Sage didn’t think it was possible, but she now felt even lower than low. How could she live with herself when she was clearly such a worthless human being? Because she was afraid to be in the same house as Spence, she was going to deprive everyone else of a happy holiday. They might as well call her the Thanksgiving Grinch and get her a green costume—no, make it in harvest colors—and a big bag to steal all the pies and all the paper turkeys and Pilgrim decorations while she was at it.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I just wanted to have you and Aunt Eileen and Grace all to myself, but if you want to go out there for Thanksgiving, I’m sure that would be fine. I’d better call the hospital and double-check that they won’t need me, though. I’m sure if they do, I can at least drive you out to the Whitmans’ first,” she said, feeling inspired.
She’d just volunteer, whether they needed her or not. That would solve everything. Everyone would then have a great Thanksgiving, including her. Lonely, but great.
“You can’t work on Thanksgiving, sweetheart. You already have the day off. I called the hospital to verify before I made any plans. They don’t put any elective surgeries on the board on the holidays and they already have an on-call doctor set up for emergencies, so you’re free. I’m so happy. This will be a beautiful holiday.” Bethel had perked up as she spoke.
Sage knew when she was beaten. It looked like she was going to have to put her acting skills to the test.
“I’d better get to making the pies,” Bethel said. “After all, Thanksgiving is tomorrow.”
Sage watched her grandma move with slightly too much grace and purpose around the kitchen for a woman who claimed she wasn’t feeling well. Then Sage felt guilty again. She was certain Bethel was pushing herself to make sure she had something
to bring to the dinner.
Sage would have liked to help her, but she had to leave for the hospital. “Don’t work too hard, Grandma. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As she left, she hoped she could make it through tomorrow without getting burned.
SAGE WATCHED AS all the color left Grace’s cheeks. “I did not tell your grandma I’d go to the Whitmans’ place for Thanksgiving,” Grace almost wailed. “I thought we were having it here.”
“The car is here, girls. Don’t bother taking your coat off, Grace.” Bethel shut and locked the door with Sage and Grace still standing on the covered front porch.
Sitting in the driveway was one of the Whitmans’ large SUVs, looking sleek and warm as it waited for passengers.
“Grandma said you really wanted to go,” Sage said, looking at the open back door of the SUV. She didn’t know what to think now. Her grandma wouldn’t have intentionally lied. Certainly not. Bethel was as honest as the day was long.
“I’m sure she just got confused,” Grace said, feeling the same way as Sage. There was just no possible way that Bethel Banks would lie. All the kids who’d known her called her Grandma and had been eating her cookies and special lemonade for as long as Grace could remember.
“Well, I’m not going alone, so suck it up,” Sage growled through her teeth just as Bethel leaned out the door and called for them again. “Coming, Grandma.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Grace said as she and Sage stepped off the porch and began walking toward the waiting vehicle. They looked as if they were going to a funeral, not to a holiday feast.
By the end of the night, they might be. It very much depended on the behavior of both Spence and Camden, because, with the way those boys were playing with Sage’s and Grace’s emotions, the two women were likely to team up and off one or both of the men.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to arrive,” Martin called out from the wide-open front door as Bethel and her group made their way up the ornate front steps of the Whitman ranch house.
“You know how girls are,” Bethel said, leaning in to kiss Martin on the cheek. “They like to take their time getting all pretty.”
“It was well worth the wait. You ladies are stunning, and now we won’t have just a bunch of old men sitting around the table,” Martin replied, a special light overtaking his features as he glanced over at Eileen.
“Thank you for inviting us, Martin. I’m sure this will be the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” Eileen said shyly, surprising them all when a rosy color suffused her cheeks.
“I know it’s already my best,” Martin said, taking Eileen’s arm and running it through his.
“Yes, thank you for having us,” Sage said as she followed the group inside.
“I swear I’m going to kill you for this,” Grace whispered as the door shut behind them. “You could have warned me or something.”
“I couldn’t warn you. Up until you arrived at the house, I thought you wanted to come. Besides, you won’t have to kill me—I just might take my own life,” Sage replied. “I’d rather eat crickets than be here and make small talk with Spence.”
“Welcome, ladies,” Michael said as they stepped into the parlor. “Would you like a predinner drink?”
“Yes!” Sage and Grace said in unison, grinning at each other. They might need five or six to get through the evening.
“Well, then, you’re in luck—I’ve prepared my special eggnog,” Spence said as he walked into the room. He was wearing a nice pair of slacks that were custom tailored and hugged his thighs to perfection. The green sweater covering his sculpted chest matched his eyes to a T and looked exquisite. Sage found herself wanting to run her hands over the fabric to see whether it felt as soft as it looked.
She forced herself to turn away as she struggled to find her tongue. She looked to Grace for assistance, but her friend wasn’t in a position to provide it. Camden had just stepped into the room and was looking quite suave himself.
When Jackson came in with his new wife and stood side by side with his three brothers, Sage could understand why they’d been considered the cream of the crop during her school years. They commanded the room with their confidence, good looks, and incredible bodies.
What she didn’t understand was how three of the four were still single. But men like them seemed to take forever to settle down because they could have anyone they wanted. Why should they choose just one woman when the world was their oyster?
“I’d love to try some,” Grace said, and Sage couldn’t figure out what the heck her best friend was talking about.
“And you, Sage?”
She turned toward Spence, at a complete loss.
“My special eggnog?” he prompted slowly.
“Oh. Yes, please.” Her cheeks colored. She was really going to have to focus if she expected to have any shred of pride left at the end of the night.
“I’ll get yours, Grace,” Camden said, stepping up to the table with the snacks and drinks. “Come over here.”
Grace had no choice but to follow if she didn’t wish to appear rude, so she left Sage’s side. Soon she and Camden were having an intense discussion in the corner of the room, and not long afterward, they disappeared.
Hmm. Interesting.
“Spence is a mighty fine boy, isn’t he?”
Sage looked around to find Martin, Spence’s dad, beside her. “Yes, Mr. Whitman. He’s wonderful at showing fledgling doctors the ropes,” she said, accepting another drink. She hadn’t realized she’d guzzled the first one in a matter of seconds.
“Of course he’s a fine surgeon, but he’s also a great man. That’s why the hospital had to have him. The people in this area have so much more comfort knowing top-flight medical care is right around the corner. Before Spence took over the ER, we had a quality staff, but Spence is a shining star and we’re lucky to have him here.”
“I’m very lucky to have him supervising my training,” she said, taking another big gulp from her cup. The last thing she wanted was to discuss a man about whom she was having insanely lustful thoughts with his father. Her cheeks were going to stay a constant shade of red if this night continued the way it had begun.
“I just wish my Maybelle had been alive to see these boys grow up. She would have loved them so much.”
“I’m sure she does love them, and she’s looking down upon you all and is proud of what a wonderful man she was married to. You are such a great father that the town surely forgets three of them aren’t biologically yours. How old were they when you adopted them?” She couldn’t quite remember.
“Now that’s a story you should hear from Spence.” His eyes were suddenly caught by Eileen’s, and it became clear that his attention had wandered from Sage, though he stood with her a moment longer.
“I’ll have to ask him,” she said politely. Martin nodded sweetly at her and then sauntered toward his targeted female.
Now Sage was curious, but what if he didn’t want to talk about it? She knew Spence had been adopted, but until now she hadn’t wondered why. Did he have any contact with his biological family? So many questions were burning through her, but she didn’t know how to bring up something like that.
Sage wandered over to a wall filled with old photographs. The boys were splashing in the creek, riding horses, in football uniforms, and holding trophies of all sorts. Martin was clearly very proud of his sons. To have their pictures be the main focus of his den showed what a family man he was.
“My dad likes photos.”
Sage turned and found Spence next to her. He should have a warning bell attached to him. Her stomach dipped as his arm brushed against her shoulder. Did he need to stand quite so close?
“It looks like one of my grandmother’s walls,” Sage said. “I don’t remember a whole lot about my parents—they died when I was only ten. But I have their faces burned into my memory because my grandma has always kept pictures up around the house, beautiful images of them with me at the park,
ice-skating, at the zoo . . . all these happy places. I wish I could remember more.”
“That’s why pictures are more precious than almost anything else. It captures the moment, making us able to relive the memories for an eternity.”
Sage had never imagined that Spence could be so sentimental. She had to admit she liked this side of him.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
“I’m suddenly starving,” she told him as the aromas of good cooking drifted through the open doorway. Spence held out his arm to lead her into the dining room, and she hesitated for only a moment—probably not long enough for him to notice, she hoped. She was a guest in his home, and there was no need for her to be rude.
“You two sit here,” Martin said as Sage entered on Spence’s arm.
Sage looked around with suspicion when everyone was seated. This all seemed to be set up a bit too conveniently. What were the old folks doing?
“Do you think your dad and my grandma are up to something?” she asked Spence. She should be irritated, because this seemed almost like a date, but the eggnog was doing its job—she’d already gulped down enough of it—giving her a touch of I-don’t-care attitude.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind, Spence.” He seemed to suspect nothing, so she let it go. Almost by surprise, she found herself enjoying a nice meal at the Whitman table, with great food and boisterous laughter.
When the night was over, she couldn’t find Grace anywhere. She was just gone, and what was even more suspicious was that Camden was absent as well. Hmm.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” Spence said.
Sage had drunk a little too much of the eggnog and she was grateful she hadn’t driven over, but she didn’t need a ride. “I’ll just go with my grandma and Eileen.”
“I think Dad has plans with them. They’re going to be busy for a while,” he said with a laugh.
“Oh. Well then, I’d best get home,” she said, suddenly feeling nervous.
“There’s no hurry. I was just telling you that I’ll give you a ride when you’re ready.” He moved slowly toward her.