Page 62
Lord, give me strength.
The parking lot was cold and bright, the storm thinned down to lazy, drifting flakes that caught in Sage’s dark hair like tiny diamonds. The mountains beyond the clinic stood sharp against a sky stuck between gray and white. He clicked the remote start. The big F-350 rumbled to life, warm air already pouring from the vents.
He started toward the passenger side out of pure habit — Mary Sue had drilled it into him at twelve, reinforced it at fourteen with a wooden spoon, and two decades in the military had only made the instinct sharper. A man opens the door. Simple as that.
But Sage was still talking, voice bright and teasing — “Did you see the receptionist’s face, Cal? I thought she was gonna pass out. Pretty sure she drew a little heart on your chart” — and that damn lollipop was back in her mouth, cheeks hollowing again, and his brain simply… short-circuited.
He walked straight to the driver’s side.
Opened his door. Got in.
The silence lasted maybe two seconds.
“Oh my God–” Sage stood outside the passenger door, breath fogging in the cold, her face cycling through pure delight like a kid who’d just learned school was canceled for a month. “Ohhoho, my God! You forgot!”
He closed his eyes. Briefly.
“You forgot to open my door!” She was already climbing in, all radiant smugness and bouncy energy, curvy body twisting toward him as she pulled the heavy door shut. “The whole gentleman thing! You forgot.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” She pointed the glistening red lollipop at him like Exhibit A. “I broke you. With a sucker. This is the greatest day of my life.”
Cal grunted, put the truck in gear, checked his mirrors, and pulled out of the lot. His ears were burning. He ignored it.
“I was distracted,” he muttered.
“By what?” The innocence was back, sweet as sugar. “I was just eating my candy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s cherry.”
“I’m aware.”
“You want a taste?” She held it toward him, red candy shining, her lips already stained a soft pink. “It’s really good. Like… really, really good.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? Because back there you seemed pretty—”
“Sage.”
“Yeah?”
“Eat your candy.”
She popped it back between her lips with a satisfied little grin. Cal locked his eyes on the snowy road, hands at ten and two, and absolutely did not think about the way her mouth looked wrapped around it.
Did not notice how the cherry had stained her lips the exact shade of—
Stop it, Cal. She’s just a kid.
He gripped the wheel tighter and drove.
Something was happening.
It had been happening since the hallway, since the shower-laugh he’d heard through the cabin walls that morning, since she’d padded into the kitchen in Mama’s old robe with damp hair and sleepy swollen eyes and looked at him like he was a puzzle she was determined to solve. Something massive was shifting under the careful, controlled, paternal walls he’d thrown up in the last twenty-four hours.
