Second First Kiss

One spark landed on a dry leaf of the cottonwood branch a few inches from their table and it instantly ignited—half an inch from Sage’s hair.

“Fire!” She pointed.

Jasher leaped to his feet. “Uh-oh. Move.” He helped her away from the burning branch that now threatened to spread like the entire tree was made of propane-soaked crêpe paper.

Sage jumped away from the flame and bumped against his torso. “We have to call the fire department.” She whipped out her phone and dialed 9-1-1. “Yes. We’re at the Moose Creek Restaurant, and there’s a fast-spreading fire outside on the deck near the creek. It could threaten the building. Yes, it’s a log-built lodge.”

Jasher alerted the staff, who came out with empty buckets from the ice machine. Everyone formed a bucket brigade from the creek below to the deck above until the fire department came—and ended her chance of testing any ethical limits tonight, or ever, if she kept her head on straight.

Sage should not kiss Jasher Hotchkiss. Not even if it served to increase her ability to persuade him not to sell Parrish Medical. Using her sexuality for that? Talk about overstepping ethical limits.

Luckily, Sage had bought three more dates, and she could use those to convince him to use his skills at Mendon Regional.

And not in the linen closet. No. Not those skills. Not there. She wasn’t even remotely thinking about spending time in the linen closet with Jasher Hotchkiss.