To Catch A Thief. Nan Dixon

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      The hallways lights had dimmed since they’d followed her mother’s gurney up to the floor. If it wasn’t for the beeping monitors and the IV tubing, her sleeping mother would look peaceful.

      “She’s in good hands.” The nurse patted Carolina’s shoulder. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

      “What if something happens during the night?” Carolina chewed her thumbnail. “I’m twenty minutes away without traffic.”

      “We’ll call.” The nurse walked to a whiteboard. “What’s your phone number?”

      Carolina recited it.

      There was nothing more to do but say good-night. She brushed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mamá.”

      She wouldn’t cry. Mamá needed her to be strong. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

      Sage had held back, letting her say goodbye. Now he took her hand. “Are you okay to drive?”

      She nodded. But she wasn’t sure.

      “I wish I could take you home.” He guided her to the elevator. “But I’m not cleared to drive.”

      “How did you get here?”

      “Uber.”

      He’d made an effort to help her. She swallowed back the gratitude filling her throat like a river. “Thank you. Let me drive you home.”

      “Not necessary.”

      “Yes, it is.” She pointed the direction to her car. “How are you feeling?”

      “It’s your mother in the hospital. How are you?”

      She frowned. “You’re avoiding my question.”

      Sage waited for her to unlock the car. Then he slid into the passenger seat. “It’s always there. The headache. But your magic hands pushed the pain back. Thanks.”

      “What do the doctors say?”

      “My brain needs to heal.” He slammed the seat belt together. “I’m not good at waiting and I can’t stand sitting around.”

      Who could? But Carolina knew there was going to be a lot of sitting and waiting in her future. “I hope coming to the hospital didn’t set you back.”

      “That’s more walking than I’ve done in a while,” he said. “But it’s good since I can’t work out.”

      “Let me know if I can do anything for you.” She would make the time for Sage. “Where am I going?”

      “River Street.” He fired off directions, since she’d never driven these one-way streets before.

      As she parked in front of a warehouse condominium, he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’d like to invite you to up to my place.”

      “I can’t.” But she didn’t want to leave him, either. He kept her—calm. “I really appreciate you coming to the hospital.” How many times had she said that already?

      He slid closer. “I want to see you again.”

      She could see the kiss coming.

      He stopped inches from her face and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

      “Yes.” Her single word was a whisper.

      His lips were gentle. Sweet. Light pressure with a little scrape from his stubble.

      “Nice,” he murmured, brushing kisses on her cheeks and eyes.

      “Yes.” Her hands rested against his chest. “Really nice.”

      Sage leaned in. His tongue licked the seam of her lips, seeking entrance.

      She opened and stroked his tongue with hers. He tasted of coffee and mint and something dark and sexy. His chocolate-citrus scent made her want to sip at his lips, kiss his eyelids and nibble on his collarbone. She gripped his shoulders, the muscles hot under her hands.

      He tipped her head and buried his fingers in her hair.

      She fell hard into their kiss, wanting to explore the firm body beneath her fingers. “Sage.”

      He pulled her closer.

      Pain slashed her chest as her seat belt locked in place. “Ooh.”

      They laughed.

      He cupped her cheek. “I guess your car is trying to tell us something.”

      That she should take him up on his offer to come up to his apartment?

      “I can meet you at the hospital in the morning,” Sage suggested. “Maybe we could have breakfast nearby?”

      Guilt had her sitting back behind the wheel. While kissing Sage, she’d forgotten about her mother. “I’ll have to see what’s happening.”

      “Sure. Sure.” He brushed another kiss on her lips, this one sweet and soft. “Will you let me know when you get home? I don’t want to worry that you didn’t make it.”

      Had anyone ever cared if she got home safely? Not even her mother. Mamá had always been worried about how her arrivals and departures affected her own life.

      She couldn’t think that way. Her mother was dying.

      She touched Sage’s cheek. “I’ll call you.”

      * * *

      CAROLINA HADN’T CALLED. Sage had fallen asleep when he’d hit the bed, but this morning there hadn’t been any calls or texts in his log. And she hadn’t answered his phone call this morning, either. Damn.

      He’d moved too fast. Shouldn’t have kissed her. What had he been thinking?

      He’d been thinking she was—incredible. He wanted to spend time with her. Find out what made her smile or cry. And he wanted to help her. Because sometimes she seemed lost.

      It was after one in the afternoon. He shut his laptop. Even five minutes looking at the screen had his head pounding. The letters danced and doubled if he looked too long.

      Picking up his phone, he scrolled to Carolina’s number. But her last words had been I’ll call you.

      He tossed his phone on the coffee table. There had to be something he could do. Sitting around was driving him as crazy as a rattlesnake in a stampede.

      Since reading intensified his headache, he pushed up from the sofa and headed to the window. For now, the sun glinting off the river didn’t shoot shards of glass into his brain. He slipped open the slider and stepped outside. The Savannah heat and humidity was a shock. His body kept expecting the dry Texas prairie winds.

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