“That’s refreshing.”
“It shouldn’t be. You’re closing Parrish Medical.” She grimaced. “No sense pretending. My mother heard it directly from your mother. She ran into her at the farmers’ market.”
The farmers’ market. Where Redmond was selling his garden vegetables. Huh. Was there a chance Sage even remembered what she’d done for Redmond, the main reason Jasher had fallen in love with this girl—even long before he’d lined up and paid ten bucks of lawn-mowing money to kiss her?
“Fine. I’m not denying it.” He even had a potential buyer. Maybe. A long-shot, but he’d take any shot, since Knighton Knee Clinic wouldn’t be holding a job for him in Reedsville forever. “But, so?”
“So, Parrish Medical plays a vital part of the health care system of the region.”
“Need I point out that this region wants nothing to do with me and my health-related skills?”
This closed her mouth. A very pretty mouth, too. He stepped closer to her. She smelled good. Like cinnamon rolls, like those luscious confections he’d had to skip the other day when Inchy pinched his, leaving him hungrier than ever. Or maybe hungrier than ever applied to how his body felt toward Sage Everton. “Did you just eat a cinnamon roll?”
“Excuse me?”
“In the cafeteria. I thought I smelled cinnamon and sugar. It’s just that I bought one and that Inchy woman took it and ate it.”
“You let Inchy take your cinnamon roll? Rookie error.” She shook her head, but she pulled something wrapped in tissue from the pocket of her sweater. “I don’t offer this lightly.”
A paper napkin enclosed a lump about the size of her palm, and Sage held it out to him. “I did take a bite of it, so you’ll be getting Sage Everton germs by eating it, but if that doesn’t bother you, I’ll share.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a well-known fact that no one shares a Mrs. Constantini cinnamon roll.”
“You did. With Inchy.”
“Not by choice.” He shook his head. “It’s like in that Tolkien story. I’m Frodo, and Gollum stole my ring. But you’re Samwise Gamgee. Only Samwise ever gave the ring of power away willingly.” He accepted the flour and brown sugar concoction and took a soft, buttery bite. “Mmm. Is it me, or has she gotten better at these?” He spoke with his mouth full.
“You’re making my stomach growl.” Sage’s eyes were on his mouth as he chewed. He felt them there as surely as if a gaze could have physical weight. “I hope you like the slivered almond and cream cheese frosting kind.”
That was the same one he’d ordered and lost. “So much.” He took another bite, and then realized he’d enjoy watching her eat it—possibly as much as he enjoyed eating it himself. “Here. If you can stand to risk the Jasher Hotchkiss germs.” He offered her the roll, stepping closer.
Instead, she surprised him and ate a bite straight from his fingertips. Visions of hand-feeding her chocolate-covered strawberries on a beach in Cozumel flashed into his mind. Sage in a bathing suit, Jasher offering to slather her with suntan oil …
“That’s good.” Her eyes rolled heavenward before they shut.
Yeah, it was. Watching her chew that food in ecstasy was extremely good.
“I’m still mad at you.” She took one more bite from him, a lock of her dark, shiny hair tumbling from her ponytail and into her eyes.
“I’m getting pretty used to that. It’s my status quo.” She could be mad at him all day if she’d let him watch her eat delectable pastries. Sage’s lips mesmerized him more than any legitimate hypnotist ever could. “I hope you can get past that, though, since we’ll probably be working side by side in surgeries.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“You’re that mad?”
“No, I just mean that my presence at Mr. Dooley’s appendectomy the other day was a fluke, since Babbage was AWOL. Frankly, I don’t get assigned many surgeries. Babbage takes most of them.”
“But you’re the nurse anesthetist—with full hospital privileges, I assume.” She’d mentioned that at the park during the emergency.
“Yes.”
“So why won’t you be working with me? I’m one of only two surgeons here. Are you normally the sole property of McGreels?”
“McGreeley? Gosh, no. Please.”
Good. Apparently she wasn’t interested in that cloud-o’-cologne dude. Or was she?
“Enlighten me.” Although, other questions crowded to the forefront. Jasher hadn’t asked if she was seeing anyone. Just because she was widowed didn’t mean she was available. “Why aren’t you splitting the anesthesia duties with Babbage?” Because Jasher would take the flashing glances of Sage’s gorgeous eyes across the operating table from him every day of the week over Babbage’s overgrown eyebrows fuzzing out between his surgical cap and mask. “Do you prefer standard nursing duties?”