Second First Kiss

But she should have been looking ahead, like with x-ray vision through the cafeteria’s swinging doors, because if she had, she wouldn’t have been ambushed by Inchy.

“Sage Everton! Just the woman I’d hoped to see!”

Oh, dear. Was it too late to pretend she needed to catch a flight to Cancun? “Hi, Mrs. Ince. How are things going for you? Is your bunion improved?”

“Inchy! Call me Inchy, since we’re friends. All my friends call me Inchy.” Inchy linked her arm through Sage’s and led her into the cafeteria.

Across the room, Kennedy—still in town for an hour or two before heading back to Reedsville—sat at a booth with a couple of cinnamon rolls already perched and waiting for consumption. Their heavenly scent wafted Sage’s way, calling her. Uselessly, for now because … Inchy.

“Oh, look.” Inchy had spied Kennedy. “It’s the lovely Kennedy Keller. What fortune! I can catch her at the same time as I catch you.”

Yes, like a spider with a double-acting web for two unlucky flies. Sage shot Kennedy an apologetic look as they approached.

“Why, Mrs. Ince.” Kennedy pasted on a good-natured grin and reached up to shake Inchy’s hand. “You’re looking well. Are you taking any special vitamins?”

Points to Kennedy for attempting to sidetrack the fully loaded freight train that was Phillipa Ince, but the vitamin reference effort was to no avail.

“I’m hopped up on good deeds today—and on good luck. Imagine finding the two most ravishing medical professional bachelorettes in this whole town. It’s not just luck. It’s got to be fate.” The woman’s grin nearly split her ruddy, round face. “This year’s fundraiser will go toward not only a memorial plaque honoring Dr. Parrish, but also toward some much-needed new equipment for the hospital. I’m aiming to make Mendon Regional the best hospital from hither to yon. Sage, should I put you and Kennedy at the same table?”

Brother. How to get out of it? “I’m afraid I can only make a monetary donation this year, Mrs. Ince.” Sage sat down in the booth and eyed the cinnamon roll, desperate to heed its clarion call. Surgery always left her famished. “But it will be generous.”

“Inchy! I insist. And it simply won’t do!” The reasons came thick and fast. “Now, I can count on you both for next weekend’s event, I know. But please, invite friends. Gorgeous friends, if you can arrange for it. The bachelors are always so much more enthusiastic when there are beautiful young women placing bids than when it’s just me and my septuagenarian friends—as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Kennedy kicked her under the table. “We’ll be there. I’ll drive down from Reedsville. You can count on us. And Sage will bring her cousin Heidi. It’s going to be a huge success.”

Inchy went into spasms of ecstasy, complete with gurgles of delight, then finally left.

The air was stiller with Inchy gone.

“What was that for?” Sage took a big bite. “Why did you let her push us into it? I was thinking of a good plan for avoidance.” The yeasty heaven of the roll enveloped her. This one featured pecans and—fittingly for today’s festival—raspberries. “Mm. This is good.”

“I know, right?” Kennedy swallowed her bite and then defended herself. “There was no way she was leaving until we committed, and I wanted to talk to you before I have to take off. Plus, I wanted to eat this.” She took another bite.

Fair. Inchy wouldn’t have left without a commitment.

“Heidi wouldn’t dream of coming, though.” Sage took another bite, too. She lived too far away in Wilder River, for one thing. For another, “She’s seeing someone. Although, she does love a good plate of spaghetti.”

“At least there will be spaghetti to eat.”

Yeah. And the prospect of new medical equipment. Really, that alone should have forced Sage to be less stingy about helping the event succeed. Heaven knew the hospital could use new equipment.

“Word to the wise, though.” Sage ate her last bite and shook a warning finger. “Do not bid on anything that lists Steaks-n-Stuff as a date offering.”

“Oh? Why? I like their prime rib.”

“Maybe, but the company will spoil your appetite.” Sage described McGreeley.

“Is that the doctor who’s always hitting on you? I thought his name was McGreasy.”

“It should be.”

“Got it. In return, I should warn you again—if Inchy snares the steaming-hot Jasher Hot-Kiss into her tangled net, word is you should probably avoid, avoid, avoid.”

“What does the world have against Jasher Hotchkiss? I just watched him perform surgery, and he was a wizard with a scalpel. Our hospital should be kissing his feet and fanning him with palm fronds, not badmouthing him.”

Kennedy looked hurt. “I’m not badmouthing.”

“Sorry.” Sage shook herself. What was it about Jasher that made Sage constantly leap to his defense?