"Yes, ma'am."
That word in his voice shouldn't affect me the way it did. The sound got thicker when he was relaxed, wrapping around it like honey.
I turned my attention back to Judge, but Gage crouched down beside me to get a better hold on the dog. Now his shoulder brushed mine, his thigh nearly touched my knee, and the exam room suddenly felt about half its actual size.
"Gonna extend his front leg," I said, my voice coming out breathless.Professional, Lacey."Tell me if he shows any discomfort."
I demonstrated the first stretch, acutely conscious of Gage steadying Judge's shoulder inches from mine. His hands were bigger than I'd realized, long fingers with blunt nails and calluses that told me he did more than push papers. A faded military tattoo marked his left forearm.
"Like this?" he asked, mimicking the motion.
"Yeah, that's—" His knuckles brushed the back of my hand as he adjusted his grip, and I lost my train of thought. "That's perfect. Just like that."
I moved through the remaining exercises, talking him through each one, trying to ignore the heat radiating from his body. Trying not to notice how his breath stirred the loosestrands of hair that had escaped my ponytail. Trying not to think about what those fingers might feel like—
"You got it?" I asked, cutting off that particular train of thought.
"Yeah, I got it." Lower now, rougher around the edges.
When I glanced up, his gaze was on me, not on Judge. The air between us felt charged, electric.
I shot to my feet, needing distance, needing to breathe. "Good. Same routine through Friday, then we'll reassess."
Gage rose to his full height—six-two of solid muscle and authority, all wrapped up in that uniform. The shirt pulled tight across his chest as he straightened.
"He's healing really well," I said, moving to the counter to update Judge's chart. "You're doing great with him."
"Couldn't do it without you." The words were simple, but something in his tone tightened my throat. When I turned around, he was watching me with an intensity that made it hard to think straight.
"It's my job," I said, but it came out softer than I intended.
"Lacey?"
"Hmm?"
"You doing all right?" He studied my face, and I fought the urge to squirm under that sharp hazel gaze. This was a man who noticed things. A sheriff who paid attention. "You seem a little... tired, maybe. Everything okay?"
The concern in his voice caught me off guard. "I'm fine. Busy."
"Between here and—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening slightly.
And what?I wanted to ask. What did he know?
But Dr. Bev's voice carried down the hall, something about the next appointment, and the moment broke.
"I should let you go," Gage said, though he didn't move toward the door. His hand came up like he was going to touch my arm, then dropped back to his side. "Take care of yourself."
"Wednesday at two," I reminded him, trying to sound normal.
"Wouldn't miss it." The corner of his mouth kicked up in something that wasn't quite a smile but set my heart racing anyway. His gaze held mine for another beat before he finally moved. "Come on, Judge."
I stood in the exam room after they left, listening to the front door chime, listening to the sound of his truck starting in the parking lot. My hands trembled slightly.
I was in so much trouble with this man.
The rest of Monday crawled by. When Tuesday evening finally rolled around, I grabbed my phone and keys, checking the time before heading out.
The drive to Highway 81 took me east through Crosswell, past neat brick buildings and well-lit streets, into the area where things got rougher around the edges. Pawn shops and closed-down businesses, apartment complexes that had seen better days.
