To Catch A Thief. Nan Dixon

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.

      Next week he had an appointment with his doctor. Maybe by then he’d be able to get back to work. Sitting around was more painful than his headaches.

      Muffled laughter floated up to him from brave people sitting on restaurant patios along River Street. How could they stand the heat? A woman waved from the deck of a boat as it motored down the Savannah River.

      This sucked. He went back for his phone. He would call Carolina. All she had to do was tell him she couldn’t be bothered. That the kiss they’d shared last night had been a fluke.

      It hadn’t been a fluke for him. Finding Carolina was like finding a long-lost friend. ’Course when he touched her, he wasn’t thinking friendly thoughts. Not with all the gorgeous hair and those eyes that carried so much sadness. He wanted to wrap her up and tuck her away from the pain of her mother’s cancer.

      He hit Dial.

      “Sage?”

      “I thought I would check on you.” He corrected himself. “Did you...have any trouble getting home?”

      “Oh, shoot. I promised to call.” Carolina sounded upset.

      He waited.

      “My phone was dead when I got home. And I fell asleep before I could access your number.”

      “No problem.” At least she hadn’t blown him off. “How’s your mother?”

      “The hospital woke me early. She’s conscious, but she had two more seizures during the night.”

      Now he felt like a heel. “Is she okay?”

      “She wants to go home.” He heard her sigh over the phone. “We’re waiting on her oncologist for a family conference.”

      That didn’t sound good. “Is there anything you need? Food? Clothes?”

      “That’s so sweet.”

      Sweet? He wanted heroic. He rolled his eyes. Pain made him regret the action.

      “I think I’m good. Ever since they called, I’ve been on the run and haven’t looked at my phone.”

      “If you’re there through dinner, I could bring you food.” What restaurants were near the hospital? Or there must be a cafeteria.

      “I... I guess I’m hoping I can bring Mamá home today.”

      “Of course you are.” Idiot.

      “Could I call you after we meet with the doctor?” Was her voice trembling? “Would that be okay? Unless something else comes up for you.”

      “That’s perfect.” The words flew out of his mouth. He didn’t want her changing her mind.

      “I’ll do that. The doctor’s supposed to be here in the next half hour.”

      He sure hoped she wasn’t putting him off. “I’ll wait for your call.”

      * * *

      CAROLINA COULDN’T KEEP the smile off her face. Sage was the one good thing that had happened since she’d arrived home. She was about to the tuck the phone back in her purse, but noticed the voice-mail icon. Shoot, it had come in last night.

      She poured hot water over her tea bag. As long as she was in the waiting room, she’d listen to the call.

      “Hi. This is Abby Fitzgerald. I’d like to offer you the job. Give me a call when you get a chance. I was hoping you could work a short shift on Thursday for training.”

      Carolina stared at her phone. She’d gotten the job.

      No! She didn’t want to work for Abby.

      With Mamá ill, it was too long a drive between Savannah and Tybee. Her mother needed her.

      She started to hit the call button but Dr. Laster entered the lounge.

      “Hi,” Carolina said.

      “Hey.” The doctor poured a cup of coffee. “Looks like we had the same idea. Shall we head to your mother’s room?”

      “Sure.” She tucked her phone away. She would call Abby and turn down the job after she took Mamá home.

      “How are you, Rosa?” Dr. Laster asked as they walked into the hospital room.

      “I’m so tired.” Mamá pushed the button on the bed and sat up. “What happened?”

      “You had seizures last night and this morning.”

      “Seizures?” Her mother frowned.

      Carolina’s chest tightened. She and Mamá had already talked about this.

      “It’s okay if you don’t remember.” Dr. Laster patted her mother’s leg. “The neurologist has prescribed medication, but we’ll need to monitor you. I’d like to keep you in the hospital while we do that. We can begin your first treatments here.”

      “In the hospital?” Rosa grabbed Carolina’s hand. “Can’t I go home?”

      “You’re