Her Hometown Hero

by Melody Anne

  He’d been served the best hot chocolate he’d ever had, and in the fanciest cup he’d ever seen. There was also a tray of tiny sandwiches—with the crusts cut off, which was great since he hated crusts. Martin had laughed and said he’d make sure to have lots of kid-appropriate snacks ready to go. He’d kept his promise, always having chocolate in his secret drawer and fresh-baked cookies daily. This had been a wonderful home to be raised in.

  “What has you driving all the way out here in such weather? I can see something’s on your mind,” Martin said as they both sat down.

  “Yes. I needed to talk to you about some personal stuff, and I guess I’d best be kind of quick because I don’t want it to be taken the wrong way by Bethel and Eileen.” He was hesitating, though he knew he should just spit it out.

  “There’s nothing you couldn’t say in front of those women. They are loyal,” Martin said. But suddenly the man’s cheeks turned pink. “What have you heard about me?”

  For the first time in his life, Spence saw his father squirm before him. “It’s about me, Dad,” he said quickly. He hardly wanted to force his dad to admit to something he might not be ready to talk about yet.

  Martin recovered instantly. “Well, of course it is, Spence. What else could it be about?” He put two fingers of scotch in a glass and drank it down.

  “I . . . well, I’ve been around Sage a lot . . .”

  “That’s my boy! I knew if I could just get the two of you together, it would all work out.” Martin stopped suddenly, and his cheeks colored again, this time for an entirely different reason.

  “What?” Spence was dumbfounded. What was his dad talking about?

  Martin coughed. “Uh . . . nothing. You go on.”

  “You have some explaining to do, Father,” Spence said, knowing he should sound more firm, but oddly he was only curious.

  “Well, you know, my friends and I were just thinking that you boys aren’t getting any younger. We weren’t trying to meddle or anything. We were just . . . putting two available adults together.” His words came out stronger, even huffily, at the end of his small speech, almost as if he felt he was the victim here.

  “You’re matchmaking?” Spence said, his voice rising sharply.

  “I’ve done nothing of the sort. So what if we kind of pushed for Sage to accept the offer for this hospital? And I was feeling mighty ill when you decided to take the ER position here.”

  Martin kept speaking, but Spence wasn’t listening anymore. This had all been a setup—a setup that he’d fallen into quite nicely. So why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he storming from the house? Why wasn’t he reading his father the riot act?

  Because the setup had worked—at least for him.

  Though the meddlesome five were the ones who’d started everything, the feelings Spence was developing for Sage had nothing to do with his father or her grandmother. They were all-male feelings, and he wanted Sage to know exactly how much he liked her.

  “Oh, if Sage knew about this, you would all be toast,” Spence said, realizing that he’d better never, ever tell her. She’d skin them all alive, and especially him for going along with the scheme.

  “I’ve known little Sage since she was a small child. I’m sure she would be thrilled to be a part of our family,” Martin replied.

  “Whoa! Slow down there, Dad. Don’t start planning the wedding just yet. I can’t even get the girl to go out on a date with me.” How he hated to admit that.

  “Well then, you have to try harder.”

  Spence turned to find Eileen and Bethel in the doorway, both with identical expressions of frustration on their faces.

  “What?” He’d been saying that a lot lately.

  And why? Had he entered an alternate universe or something? Was this Tag-Team-on-Spence Day? He expected his brothers to join in on the ribbing next. They probably had built-in radar and were on their way there now.

  “If you want her to go out with you, you have to make her want to,” Bethel said. “A lady wants to be courted, to be treated like she’s the crown jewel and like you have eyes for no other woman but her.”

  “I’ve never had a problem getting a date before, but suddenly the one woman I want to take out would rather change bedpans than accept an offer from me. I’ve sent her flowers, told her she’s beautiful, made it more than clear that I des—” Oops.

  “We may be older than you, sweetie, but we’re not stupid. We know when there’s chemistry between a man and a woman. Were you going to talk about desire?” Bethel asked, and Spence shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This conversation was going from bad to worse.

  “No, ma’am,” he muttered, and his father and the two women laughed as he shifted again.

  “Well, if you want to get her to accept a date, you need to be more romantic. Yes, flowers are nice, but they’re unoriginal. You have to show her that you’re putting real effort into it,” Eileen said a bit dreamily.

  “Effort?”

  “Yes, son, effort,” Martin said. “I know you don’t usually have to work so hard, but isn’t Sage worth it?”

  “Of course,” Spence replied. “She’s more than worth it.”

  “Then prove that to her. Prove that she’s worth you using your brain along with your charm,” Martin told him.

  “Give her the world in the palm of her hand, show her there’s still magic in dating,” Bethel said, her eyes misting over.

  “This isn’t helping,” Spence grumbled. They were talking in riddles. He needed definitive answers on how to get the girl. A handbook with all the plays diagrammed, maybe.

  “Be her Prince Charming,” Eileen added.

  Was that supposed to make a lightbulb suddenly turn on over his head? It sure as heck wasn’t working. But as he stared at the three people in the room with him, his thoughts began spinning. Ahh. Yep. Looked like the light had kicked on, after all.

  If one thing was for sure, it was that Spence would make a hell of a Prince Charming.

  Green and red, gold and silver, garlands and lights—this was no hastily tricked-out break room. The hospital had gone all out to make this a Christmas party that wouldn’t be forgotten. Was that an advantage of living in a small community?

  Sage stepped into a meeting room that had been completely transformed into a holiday ballroom. The decorations were placed carefully enough to satisfy even her stringent requirements, candles were burning bright, and the smell of Christmas pine, cinnamon, and cloves drifted through the air.

  “You are stunning.”

  She gasped to find Spence behind her, and it took several seconds before she could breathe again. He was resplendent in a black tux with a bright red tie and a sprig of holly on his lapel.

  “I could say the same about you,” she said, smiling shyly as she lost herself in his eyes.

  “I think red is my new favorite color after seeing that number on you.”

  “Here you are, Sage.” Almost in a daze, she turned to find a man approaching with a drink. Who was he? Oh! Her date.

  “Thank you, Ted. I’m parched,” she said, accepting the glass and taking a deep drink. She only hoped the alcohol level was at least eighty proof.

  “I found our table. Would you like to sit down?” he asked, ignoring Spence completely. If she were Ted, she’d do the same. Her date paled in comparison with the guy. All the men in the room did, actually.

  “Sage, you are breathtaking.”

  She turned again, a genuine smile coming to her lips as Martin approached with Eileen on his arm.

  “This lovely woman leaves me in the dust,” Sage said as she gave each of them a hug.

  “Don’t be silly. I was just happy to be invited,” Eileen said with a giggle.

  “Is my grandmother here?” Sage asked. “She didn’t tell me whether she was attending.”

  “No,” Eileen replied. “Martin invited us both to come with him, but she wasn’t feeling very well.”

  “She’s not well? She didn’t say anything to me. I should
go and check on her.” What had happened? Her grandmother had seemed fine half an hour ago when she’s spoken to her on the telephone.

  “There’s no need to rush off, darling. She just said her feet were tired from all the dancing we did last night.”

  “If you’re sure . . .”

  “I’m positive. If you rush out of here, your grandmother would have my hide. You don’t want me to get into trouble now, do you?”

  “Of course not, Aunt Eileen,” Sage said. “We were getting ready to sit down. Would you like to join us?” Please join us, she added silently. She had a feeling it was going to be difficult to keep a conversation going with her date if she was left on her own.

  “I’d love to join you,” Martin said, and the four of them went to Sage’s table. “We’ll just move the seating around.” He grabbed a waiter and had him move some place cards.

  She stood at the table, giving Ted the opportunity to hold out her chair. When he simply sat down, she was subconsciously disappointed. Yes, it was old-fashioned of her, but she’d always been taught that a man held out his date’s chair, never sitting before she did. When Martin did the proper thing by Eileen, Sage smiled.

  Then Spence was there again, his hand on the back of her chair, a smile also on his face. “Ladies first,” he whispered seductively against her ear, the warmth of his breath making her heart flutter. Ted didn’t seem to notice, the clod.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she took her seat and picked up her napkin. When Spence sat on her other side, she knew tonight was going to challenge her self-control.

  “Oh! If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Ted jumped up and rushed over to a couple who’d just entered the room.

  Sage watched as he laughed at something the man said, and then the two of them walked over to the liquor bar, leaving the woman the other man had entered with standing alone. She didn’t seem upset—she was obviously used to being abandoned like that.

  “It looks like your date has other things on his mind,” Spence said, leaning in too close for her comfort.

  “This is a social event. It’s perfectly fine to be socializing.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if the building started falling down around us—I still wouldn’t leave your side,” Spence said softly, his deep drawl giving her goose bumps.

  “Well, then, you must not be that social—or you just don’t have any friends.” She knew she was being a bit catty, but she refused to feel bad about it.

  “I just know when I have a good thing. And I don’t let it go.”

  “Is that a warning, Spence?”

  “It’s a promise, Sage.”

  “Oh no. Will the hackneyed lines never end?”

  “Sorry, doll, but it happens to be the truth. I’ve decided I like you, and instead of just flirting and cornering you in exam rooms, I’m going to say what I think and feel. I want you—and not just for one night.”

  The sparkle in his eyes told her he was truly enjoying himself. The leap in her libido told her she was in deep trouble.

  “And the past few weeks—what was that?” As he hadn’t once been holding back from her, she couldn’t imagine what he had planned with this new challenge.

  “That was simply a warm-up. Now, I’m going to officially court you.”

  She gazed at him a moment before shaking her head. “Court me? Really? Isn’t that what people do when they’re planning an arranged marriage?”

  “The definition of courting is to run after, pursue, chase . . .” There was a determination about him that she was enjoying, though she tried to tamp down the feeling.

  “You’ve got your etymology completely wrong, by the way—rather shocking for a doctor. The root in court has nothing to do with the cur root meaning ‘to run.’ Cur . . . how appropriate.”

  “Details, details,” he said loftily.

  “In any case, Dr. Whitman, you’re leaving out one important fact about the verb.”

  “I think I covered it all.”

  “To court is generally taken to refer to being involved with someone romantically with the intention of marrying them.” That would scare him away!

  “Hmm . . .” There was a pause as he leaned closer. “I think I like that definition best.”

  He held her gaze without blinking, making a shudder travel through her. But she finally turned her head, lifted her wineglass, and took a generous sip. No, not eighty proof, so she’d have to improvise.

  “I’m on a date. This is highly inappropriate,” she finally said when the silence was too much to bear.

  “I don’t see your date. That makes you fair game.”

  He seemed to have an answer for everything. “Did you just say that pursuing me is nothing more than a game?” If she could somehow twist his words, maybe she’d get out of this unscorched.

  “You can call it whatever you want, but I want you, Sage. I want to take you on dates, spend time with you, learn about you, and . . . kiss you. I want to strip off your clothes, run my lips over every inch of your body, and sink deep inside you while you’re calling out my name.” He ended in a whisper, and she shivered in response.

  “It’s not polite to be chatting over there and ignoring the rest of us,” Ted said.

  Sage lifted her gaze, seeing that the entire table was now full, including her absentee date—and all eyes were on her. She wanted to reply that it also wasn’t polite for him to run off, but she kept her mouth closed.

  Was her skin flushed? It had to be flushed. Was it obvious what Spence had just been saying to her? For the life of her, she couldn’t get words to emerge from her tight throat. This man was turning her inside out, and in front of everyone they worked with, too.

  “You are absolutely right. We were just discussing work. Anyone have strong opinions about the new oral anticoagulants?” Spence asked.

  She was grateful, though she knew the medical joke was at her expense, a sidelong reference to the way words were stuck in her mouth. She could now take a much-needed breath.

  “That’s my boy, always teaching. I’m sure Sage has a lot of stories to tell from her first few months of residency,” Martin said, and he turned his full attention to her.

  Sage was relieved by the change of subject. It allowed her to talk of what she knew, what she was confident about. Before long, the entire table was engaged in the conversation. Stories of humorous medical mishaps flew about, laughter spilled out, and way too much wine and eggnog was consumed. The evening had certainly turned around.

  When it came time to dance, her date showed once again why he was still single. He stepped on her toes, scuffing her new pair of heels, and, while demonstrating to the world at large that “I Got Rhythm” hadn’t been written for him, was boring her to tears with his endless chatter. She wished he’d stayed true to type and had run off with his drinking buddy again.

  When she looked out at the crowd and found Spence dancing with one of the night nurses, whose hands were running up and down his arms, Sage felt a searing flash of jealousy. Ridiculous! She was there with her own date, and she didn’t want to be with Spence.

  So what if it looked like Spence would be taking the woman home for the night? So what if he and that . . . female fell in love and lived happily ever after? She didn’t want him—she didn’t want anyone. She had to focus on her career, and only her career right now.

  So did she care when Spence kept his distance for the rest of the evening? She had to admit, after she left the party—Ted dropped her off at her apartment—she felt a dull ache in her stomach, a deep emptiness. Maybe being alone wasn’t what she really wanted.

  No. She had to shake off these feelings. She was happy with her career choice, a choice she’d always known would lead to a lot of lonely nights. It was worth it because she got to do what she truly loved. Not everyone could say the same thing.

  She was also incredibly grateful when she watched Ted drive away without even walking her to her door. It was early, only ten, and he hadn’t even asked if she wante
d a nightcap. Maybe he’d been just as relieved to get away from her as she was to get away from him.

  It was really kind of sad. It hadn’t helped that her date, the most boring man alive, had been in the same room as Spence all night. Maybe, before Spence, she might have had a great time with Ted. Then again, maybe not.

  “Stop thinking about Spence,” she muttered as she approached her front door. “You don’t want him, certainly don’t need him, and have nothing in common with him. Just focus on work.”

  As she reached the top of the steps, she noticed a bright red package sitting there with a large gold bow and a tag with her name in bold cursive letters.

  She loved gifts. There was something magical about opening a wrapped present. Yes, she was perfectly capable of going out and buying her own trinkets, but knowing that someone had thought about you enough to give you something he or she had chosen just for you . . . that was special.

  Should she wait until Christmas to open it? It certainly looked like a Christmas gift. There was nothing else to tell her who it was from. She shook the snow off her shoulders, then picked up the package and walked into her warm apartment.

  After removing her coat and sitting down in the living room with the gift on the table in front of her, she eyed it eagerly. Who was she kidding? There was no way she’d wait. She undid the tape holding the lid down, and when she lifted the lid, she simply gasped.

  She picked up the note and held it while gazing at the crystal red apple tree ornament that was sitting on a cushion of bright green velvet.

  I have decided to be your fairy-tale prince. It’s time for me to wake up my Sleeping Beauty.

  Spence

  Her heart melted. Yes, it was silly. Yes, it was a bit cheesy. And, yes, she was in trouble—total-and-complete-meltdown kind of trouble. She was falling for this man even though she knew she shouldn’t, and knew it could be disastrous. But how could she not when he was claiming to be her very own Prince Charming?

  “Is it normal to have sharp, shooting pains running up and down my legs and spine?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, and it’s nothing that can be helped. When you’re on your feet for twelve hours straight, that tends to happen,” the nurse said with a laugh before trudging off down the hallway. Sage already knew that, but somehow it felt better to voice a complaint.