Chapter 21
Jasher
Tate brought the boat up onto the ramp, while Tyanne backed the trailer carefully down the dock.
“I’ve always admired a woman who can back up a trailer.” Sage leaned against Jasher’s arm, and he tugged it around her waist. “It takes a certain confidence, and your cousin lacks none of it.”
She could say that again. “You’ve got your own version of that. I saw you on that knee-board. Good edging, good spins.” Excellent form. He pulled her a little tighter to his side, and her curves melded against his skin.
It’s time to tell her about Zephyr Quennelle. The offer still needed to go through an attorney’s approval, but other than that, Jasher was set to sign.
Whether or not that might mean something to Sage personally, and not just for the sake of the medical community, Jasher couldn’t say. But if it could mean something to her …
The way she’d watched him today, the way she was touching him now—it might matter that he was leaving Mendon and taking his job at the Knighton Knee Clinic in Reedsville sooner than later.
It felt like a secret. Maybe even a dark secret—and he couldn’t pinpoint why. He’d always been up front about his feelings for Mendon—and Mendon’s feelings for him. Sage couldn’t be shocked that he was getting out as soon as possible.
“I haven’t seen Rhoda today.” Sage helped guide the boat onto the trailer. “Do you think she forgot?”
No, Jasher was the one who forgot—to tell Sage the plan. “She needed to go to her sister’s birthday lunch, so I told her we’d get a selfie of our Newberry Dam date.”
“That was nice of you to offer.”
Well, I learned from the best how to be nice to Rhoda. “Come on. Let’s get one with the boat in the background while it’s still partially in the reservoir.”
“Too bad we didn’t take any action shots while you were doing ten-eighty spins on the knee board. I can just imagine all the ladies in the auxiliary swooning over those.”
“Swooning? Hardly.” They tolerated him. Barely. “You heard the hecklers at the spaghetti dinner.”
“That wasn’t the auxiliary ladies. They all talk about how handsome you are. And then they talk about how you helped their nephew or grandson in the ER, and that you are such a good doctor.”
Please. That couldn’t be true. “You’re not a very good liar. Now, come on. Let’s snap a picture.” He set his phone, stretching out his arm to capture both of their faces. “Say lidocaine.” He clicked it. Sage laughed.
“Oh, no. I have a goofy smile when I laugh.” She begged him to take another one. “And this jacket is smushing up around my face in those pictures. Wait a sec. Can I take it off?”
And give him a better view of her swimsuit? Uh, yeah?
“Let me help.” Jasher employed every iota of his surgeon’s dexterity and unlatched all the hooks, and then he peeled off the yellow flotation device.
Whoa. “Better?” he croaked, even though his tongue had probably lolled out onto his chest, and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. It was a good thing she’d worn that PFD while he was driving the boat, or he’d be paying for boat wreck repairs.
Sage glanced down, and then looked up coyly. “I didn’t have time to shop for a new suit. Sorry. It’s from college and has seen better days.”
Jasher had not seen better days. He had not seen better anything.
“Don’t be sorry. You look—” He’d better not finish that sentence. “Here. Let’s give Rhoda the kind of picture she likes.” He pressed his face close to Sage’s cheek, and held the phone up high. He may or may not have included a generous amount of her cleavage in the photo field. He could crop that for Rhoda—but keep the original. “Say isoflurane.”
She giggled again, and he couldn’t help it. He kissed her, and snapped a photo of that, too. She melted into his arms, her skin warm beneath his hands. His phone probably lay in the dusty gravel at his feet, but Sage was liquid lava and he’d been an iceman for years. She warmed him to the core in an instant. Her beauty, her humor, her brilliance, her kindness, her support—it all meshed into a perfect combustion fuel. Sparks showered all around them, and he could see this happening—forever. Instinct reminded him he had to break the kiss and the embrace before his feelings took him somewhere neither of them should go—yet.
“Whoa.” He was almost breathless.
“Yeah, whoa.” Sage tugged at her wet ponytail that hung over her shoulder. She straightened her bikini strap. “I mean, part of me thought don’t whoa. But it’s better to whoa.” Her cheeks were red, and her eyes glossy.
I made that happen, Jasher chuckled. She wanted him. She wanted them. Maybe Jasher-and-Sage could happen. Maybe good things could happen for Jasher Hotchkiss in Mendon, after all.
Was it too much to dare hope?
“Hey, lovers.” Tyanne hung on the s of lovers, following it with a snort as she leaned out the driver’s side window of the truck. “We just heard something on the scanner you might want to know about, since you’re hospital workers and all.”