She pushed against him. “No. You proved to me that I’m nothing. I don’t want you anymore.”
He set her free despite the infernal throbbing below his waist.
“I was in shock that you hadn’t had sex before. I’m sorry I left things the way I did. But, here’s the reality. We’re both single. We’re both adults. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of basic human needs.” Hmm. Did he need a little work on his bedroom talk? Maybe.
“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone, Spence, especially you. I’m a resident, and you know the kind of hours that means. Plus, you’re my boss. I am so not going to be a cliché and sleep with the boss. That night was a mistake and I’m glad you realized it, since I clearly wasn’t thinking. I think the lack of available women in our small town has you looking for anything near your age. We need to quit this game.”
“I may be a doctor, too, Sage, but some things happening in the body can’t be explained away so easily. I want you, you want me. There’s no reason for us not to be together.”
Spence should just leave this alone, should accept her rejection and leave. It’s what he normally would have done. If a girl didn’t show interest, then why waste his time? But since he couldn’t stop thinking about this woman, he knew that he had to see where this could lead.
“You have jet lag. Go home and sleep it off,” Sage said, moving over to the couch and sitting down, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them, looking so sweet and so many years younger than she actually was.
“Jet lag? Really? It’s only an hour-and-a-half flight from Seattle to Billings, and the time difference is only an hour,” he said with a chuckle. “No circadian rhythms were harmed in the making of this scene.”
“Are you mocking me, Spence?”
“No. Enjoying you.”
“Well, I don’t give you permission to enjoy me,” she told him with some heat.
“My dear Sage, you don’t get to decide that.” He walked over and leaned down, putting his face just inches from hers.
“I get to decide whom I date,” she said, emphasizing the m in whom—she wished to sound her starchiest—and leaning back as far as she could. It wasn’t far enough.
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to be too easy.”
“Did you just call me easy?”
“No, that’s one thing that could never be said about you,” he said with a laugh, then couldn’t resist brushing his lips across the tip of her nose. The move seemed to unsettle her. Good. He wanted her unsettled, wanted to bring a bit of chaos to her ordered life.
“I have to . . .” Dang. She couldn’t think of an excuse to make him leave.
He hadn’t known what he wanted when he found himself at her door, but right now he felt like singing in the hills. He’d shaken her up and learned she was far more susceptible to him than she wanted him to know. It was enough for now.
He’d let her take a deep breath and rest up, and then the next round would begin. “Have a great day, Sage.” He kissed her briefly, then walked from the room. He didn’t even try to stop the happy whistle that blew through his lips as he climbed down the front stairs.
“There is no way I’m going to that ranch for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Sage sat at her grandmother’s table with her lips pursed in frustration. Her grandma always cooked Thanksgiving dinner. It was tradition. Eileen always joined them, and they ate a scrumptious meal, then watched the football game on TV. That’s what they did. Always.
“I’m sorry, darling. I just haven’t been feeling well enough to cook a big holiday meal this year, and when Martin invited us over, I just . . .”
Sage instantly felt like the most horrible person on the planet. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I didn’t know you weren’t feeling well again. I can cook—okay, I can try, at least. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad.”
She couldn’t go to the Whitman place. No way. She’d managed to avoid Spence last night, since he’d first been in surgery and then she’d been in a roomful of people when he’d emerged from the OR. Thankfully, he didn’t attempt to kiss her in front of the rest of the hospital staff. That would have been mortifying.
Now, if he’d pulled her into one of the on-call rooms, slowly stripped . . . No! When had her mind started dwelling in the gutter? She’d been a straight-A student. She was controlled. Cautious. Responsible. Unlike so many others, she didn’t have affairs in on-call rooms. That wasn’t who she was. She’d screwed up in his hot tub, but no one was perfect. Still, she tried.
Why she was thinking about sex more than she was thinking about surgery was beyond her. She must be losing her mind. Maybe it was Montana. Probably something in the water. The population was so sparse, and because there weren’t enough people around, the politicians were secretly drugging their water with aphrodisiacs, making everyone want to mate and bring children into the world.
No! No! No! She would not think about children and Spence—and aphrodisiacs—at the same time. This was getting out of hand. She had to pull herself together. She was strong, dang it!
“I guess we could just stay home and have leftovers. I’ll have to break it to Eileen. She was really looking forward to spending the evening with Martin. I think there may be something going on between the two of them. They’ve been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but neither one wants to admit they have feelings. Oh, yes, Thanksgiving . . . Grace also said she wanted to come with us. You know she’s had a mighty heavy crush on Camden for a long time, and she’d never go without you, but I understand . . .”