Page 24 of Her Christmas Wish

Definitely what the doctor was going to order himself to pursue.

Sage was frowning as she laid a different set of folders on the table and took her seat. “I thought you weren’t working,” she said.

“I’ve been volunteering at a couple of animal shelters. Doing well checks, that kind of thing. And have a buddy that I’ve known for years who lets me rent space at his clinic when I need equipment.”

“What about technicians, to aid in the surgery?”

“He volunteers for that. Don’t worry. It’s all done legally. Just quietly. No one at the shelter knows where I take the dogs, and no one at his clinic knows I’m there. We work strictly after-hours. I get signatures on everything, and sign all prescriptions, etcetera, myself. My license to practice wasn’t suspended,” he reminded her, in case that hadn’t been clear the day before.

She nodded. “I know it wasn’t,” she told him, glancing down at the folders on the table.

Right, she’d have looked up his state licensing in the process of investigating his situation.

She wasn’t picking up the folders. Or looking his way, either.

She ran a couple of fingers through strands of hair at her shoulders instead. Slowly. Repeatedly. Not a nervous habit he remembered from the past.

Interesting.

“If you need to change your mind about things, I’m perfectly fine with that,” he told her. He wasn’t fine at all.

But he would be.

She owed him nothing.

His statement brought her gaze up to his. But left him even more unsure of what was going on.

She seemed...uncomfortable.

He wasn’t getting it. He hadn’t asked for, or instigated, any contact between them at all. His being there was all her.

So...

“I’m sorry to have to do this...” As she started to speak, his gut dropped. Preparing himself to sit politely through her reneging on her offer—mostly by stiffening every muscle in his body and envisioning his quick escape to and through her door—Gray didn’t even blink.

“We might need to change our agreement some,” she said. “Due to unforeseen circumstances...”

He sat forward, ready to push off. “That’s fine, Sage,” he said, clapping his hands together. “It was nice of you to offer, but I completely understand...” He was standing by the time he was done, heading toward the door.

“Grayson Bartholomew, you are not walking out on me. Not again.”

Chapter Eight

Gray froze in his tracks.

Not sure he’d even heard her correctly.

“I’m sorry.” The words were strong. But sounded sincere enough that he slowly turned. “That was completely out of line. But I would appreciate it if you would hear me out.”

“To what end? You made a generous offer. You need to walk it back. I never should have accepted in the first place. We both know you owe me nothing, Sage. Not even, apparently, politeness...”

He stopped then. Knowing that last dig to be beneath him.

Almost on par with hers.

Which made them what? Both pathetic?

“If you’d rather not accept my offer, that’s your choice. What I have to say still has to be said.”