almost grateful, though, as it took her mind away from the fact that she was craving something much less proper.
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” he said with a quiet laugh.
“A gentleman wouldn’t call me on that.”
Suddenly, his face was only an inch from hers, and what was burning in his eyes had her feeling a whole new level of desire. “Don’t ever mistake me for a gentleman, Dr. Banks.”
Oooh, the man was lethal. Take-me-to-my-grave-with-a-big-smile-on-my-face lethal.
“My mistake,” she whispered, using the last of her strength to back away from him. Her fingers shook, so she clenched them together. But nothing was going to stop the wild beating of her heart.
“No, I would fully agree that you aren’t a gentleman,” she huskily whispered.
“I would be more than happy to show you how a man treats a lady,” he offered, sliding back into her personal bubble.
“A real man doesn’t have to take something that isn’t offered,” she challenged. If her voice was stronger, then maybe she would be more convincing.
He paused, his warm breath fanning her face and weakening her convictions by the second. But then, he backed away, and she realized she was holding her breath.
“What would you like to eat?” His change of subject threw her off for a minute, and she had to shake her head before she could clear the fog that had infused her brain.
Sage looked around at the different options and found a Cinnabon. That’s where her cravings led her, but she knew she should have something with a bit more nutritional value. Maybe if she ate a salad first, she could finish with a big, warm, gooey cinnamon roll. That was a plan. Yes, she’d get a sugar high and then crash, but it was her day off, so she’d be fine.
“I’m getting a salad,” she told him, and walked over to a counter with no line in front of it. Of course there was no line—people wanted pizza or Chinese food, not salads.
After she was handed her salad, she glanced over at the pizza place and saw Spence getting something to eat there. She made her way to the Cinnabon counter and placed her order. The two of them finished about the same time; he was carrying a box with pizza in it and a couple of plates on top, plus two steaming cups of coffee.
She thanked him warmly, oddly pleased that he knew how she liked her coffee. It was something silly, but it meant that he paid attention. Okay, quit reading so much into this, she warned herself. It’s just a stupid cup of coffee.
“Nice . . . lunch,” he said with a chuckle as he pointedly looked at her massive cinnamon roll and its embarrassing side of extra frosting.
“I have a salad,” she said in self-defense as she speared some lettuce. “I even went for the vinaigrette instead of ranch.”
“Ah, a good patient,” he replied as he lifted a piece of pizza with extra cheese.
Her mouth watered. Pizza was good for you—it had something from all the food groups in it, even fruit if you got Hawaiian. Maybe she should just go get some and give up on the salad. She wasn’t a rabbit, after all.
Before she could make a decision, he put a slice on an extra plate and slid it over to her. She knew she should refuse, but it smelled so good. What the heck! Lifting the pizza to her mouth, she groaned as she took her first bite.
“There is absolutely no good pizza in Sterling,” she groused. “No pizza at all, in fact, but the frozen kind. Someone should really open up a place.”
“I heard that someone turned in a proposal at the last city council meeting, but I didn’t follow through or ask any questions. I don’t care that much, I guess.” He shrugged eloquently.
“How can you not care about great pizza?” She knew she was overreacting, but as she finished her slice, having a nearby pizza parlor seemed of utmost importance. She’d worry about healthier eating when she was in her thirties—heck, maybe her forties.
He looked at her with a supremely serious expression. “I will make sure to take far more notice of all pizza locations within a hundred-mile radius.”
Sage realized how ridiculous she was being. Sitting back, she grinned as their eyes met. “Okay, that was a bit extreme. I blame it on working too much.”
“If we should be worried about anything in Sterling, it should be the lack of a good barbershop. I mean,