Second First Kiss

Sage crouched beside the woman. “I can help.”

The blood didn’t just pour, it spurted in pulses from the wound. Sage applied pressure, which slowed the flow temporarily. The crowd stilled, and the guy holding the monkey left. Sage did her best, but pressure wasn’t enough. The woman still hemorrhaged.

“You need to hold very still.” Blood oozed so much Sage’s hands threatened to slip. The ambulance should be here soon. Paramedics could clamp this. But meanwhile it was not going well for the bite victim. Sage needed a way to apply more pressure. “Does someone have a clean t-shirt?” she called to the crowd. Then she turned back to the victim. “I need to apply more pressure to the wound.”

Even then, the blood loss was going to be hard to overcome. So much blood!

“Here.” A shirtless man held out a white t-shirt and fell to his knees beside her. “It’s not sanitized but it’s clean.”

Sage spared him a split-second glance. Youngish, good-looking. Dark scruff. Nice little indentation at his upper lip. Great when shirtless. Not that she was looking while a patient was possibly bleeding out.

“Thanks.” She wadded the cloth and pressed it hard against the wound, careful not to depress the trachea and obstruct the airway. “Relax, ma’am. You have to relax.”

“Let me do that.” Shirtless Wonder tried edging her out.

“Uh, I’m a nurse.” But thanks, bud. “Can you make sure we clear the area for the ambulance to arrive?” It should only take a minute, since the hospital was a stone’s throw from the park where the Raspberry Festival was held every year. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m a doctor. I’ll take it from here.”

Sage looked at him again, now that pressure was applied in the correct place. He looked familiar. “You’re not a local doctor. I’m on the hospital staff. I’d know you. So, thanks, but no thanks, unless you’re prepared to show credentials.”

The ambulance, as expected, roared up. Paramedics poured from the vehicle with duffel bags of equipment. The back doors flew open, and a gurney clattered out onto the parking lot. “Any spinal injury?”

Sage turned care of the woman over to people who had tools for the job. “A bite from a wild animal.”

“Yolanda’s not wild.” The woman’s voice was faint. “She’s a love.”

“The patient has lost a lot of blood.” The fake doctor stepped back and let the paramedics have at her. “We’ll need to type her blood immediately, per protocol. Sutures as soon as we disinfect the wound. Intravenous antibiotics. Check for a penicillin allergy first.” He followed the guy moving the gurney, giving orders as if he owned the ambulance.

A female paramedic appraised the lunatic. “Did you stop your tanning session to save a life today? Where’s your shirt, Dr. Hotchkiss?” She blinked like the glow from his torso was dazzling her.

Wait. Doctor Hotchkiss? Just a cotton-picking second. “Uh, Jasher Hotchkiss?” Sage spoke aloud without thinking.

“And you’re Sage Everton.” Just as if he’d seen her every day of his life.

They loaded the patient into the vehicle, and the ambulance doors slammed shut.

A paramedic beckoned to Dr. Shirtless. “Come on. Ride along, doc.”

Dr. Jasher Hotchkiss jogged up to the window. “Nah, but I’ll meet you over there in the ER after I change into scrubs.” Then he turned back to Sage, and their eyes met. Her blood surged almost like the poor woman’s a moment ago.

“Good work today.” Shirtless Wonder gazed into her eyes, delving and touching somewhere long locked. “Your quick thinking may have saved that woman’s life.”

The ambulance pulled away, and Sage stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, hugging her stomach.

Jasher.

Sage searched the crowd for Kennedy. No sign of her. She texted to ask where she’d gone. Sage had to get home. Her blouse was covered in blood, and she needed a hot shower.

Or maybe a cold one. Flashbacks of shirtless Jasher Hotchkiss were heating her up.

What was he doing there? And how dare he turn into a fiercely attractive hottie, considering the scrawny kid he’d been when he flipped her switch with that unexpected kiss of expert-level skill?

A mega-text came from Kennedy. Kennedy always sent the wordiest texts.

You saved that woman. Awesome. No one should have a pet spider monkey. Buffy and Buddy melted down when they saw the blood, so I had to leave or I would have come to help. I have your jam that was priced higher than a solid gold bar. Did you actually speak to Jasher Hotchkiss? You heard what happened with him after we graduated, right? Can’t believe he even dares show his face in this town.

Sage hadn’t heard. What could have happened? And why he was showing up at Raspberry Days claiming to be a doctor? This was what happened when she didn’t get scheduled for a week—everything at the hospital changed without Sage’s knowledge.

Kennedy chimed another text.

Of course, that bad juju all went down after you left. You probably only remember him as Hot Kiss. Freak kissing-booth incident, right? I almost forgot about that! His last glory days before his demise. Anyway, I wouldn’t go telling anyone about having kissed him if I were you, though. He’s pretty much public enemy number one.

Questions popped in her mind like Orville Redenbacher’s corn in a hot microwave. They should have been centered on what had happened to destroy Jasher Hotchkiss’s reputation in Mendon. But surprisingly, they were more about whether or not he could still kiss and make her toes curl.