Her Christmas Wish (The Cottages on Ocean Breeze #1)

Chapter Ten

G ray spent Thursday night at a small private gathering of veterinarians. All doctors who’d worked for GB Animal Clinics. As part of Sage’s revitalization plan, he had to determine whether he was going to start out solo, as he had the first time, or if he wanted to include other practices along with his own—as he’d ended up.

While his gut instinct was telling him to go it alone—he’d been burned once, it could happen again—he knew that sometimes his gut reacted in accordance to conditioning from his childhood, more than from the life he’d built.

With, of course, that one exception. The doctor on his staff who’d chosen to deal illegal drugs on the side.

He didn’t want to let one ex-friend and golfing buddy—current criminal—shape his future.

But he couldn’t help but to do so.

He left what turned out to be a late-night affair undecided. And with a lot to think about.

Not a bad thing, if it kept him focused on the future and away from mental wanderings wrapped around Sage Martin that were going nowhere. Friday was equally consumed with tasks his interim lawyer had given him. Looking for one or more places he could rent in the short term to get himself back up and running.

She’d already drafted a letter to his personal client list—and a second to the entire GB Animal Clinics client list—both of which he’d signed the day before. The mass mailings, both snail and email, would be going out that day. Before the weekend, she’d told him in her office on Thursday afternoon.

And Friday night, he had a meeting with his Realtor. Apparently, there was a bidding war going on for his house. He’d priced it to sell. The bids had risen above asking price.

He’d considered all of them. And accepted the one that offered cash on the spot—no long wait for financing and closing. It was also the highest offer. And had come in first.

No chance of any improprieties or claims of unfairness.

An inspection could be done as early as the next day, Monday at the latest, and after that, the title work could take as little as a week.

Could be longer. But in any event, he’d at least have some working cash sooner rather than later. A circumstance he’d provided himself without Sage’s legal advice, intervention or even knowledge. Why that mattered, he couldn’t explain in any good detail to himself, but he felt good about it just the same.

He woke up Saturday morning with a sense of satisfaction he hadn’t known since the news of his colleague’s illegal drug dealing had hit. Got up just after dawn and, pulling on his swim trunks, hit the beach. The water would be cold.

And just what he needed to get an invigorating start on the first weekend of his restarted life. Most importantly, he’d have the beach to himself.

Wouldn’t have to worry about a little four-year-old running up to see “Uncle Scott’s friend.”

The thought slowed him some as he walked quietly through the large cottage to let himself out the back door without disturbing Scott or Morgan. Shamed him a little even as, in the quiet, with nothing to do but be alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t escape the fact that he’d purposely stayed out late both Thursday and Friday nights so that he’d run no chance of coming face-to-face with the child.

And since he’d spent the past ten years dealing with children, all of them pet owners, in his practice, and enjoyed conversing with them, there could only be one reason why he’d be shying away from interacting with—or even seeing up close—Scott’s niece.

Because she was Sage’s daughter.

He made it to the door, a bit warm as the realization washed over him with full consciousness, complete acknowledgment rather than being brushed aside to deal with later. Had the lock undone and knob turned when he heard the thump telling him that Scott’s corgi had just jumped down from the end of the king-size bed where she slept.

He’d heard a similar sound one other morning, when Scott had had an early meeting before court.

Figuring, as a good houseguest, he had no other choice but to take Morgan out to do her business, since he was the one who woke her, Gray headed on out—with his unexpected companion. Kind of glad for the company.

As soon as the dog had relieved herself, she trotted happily beside Gray down to the water. Sat, and looked up at him.

Telling him she’d wait, he knew. Scott had shared that he had her well trained. But Gray figured it was more than that. If Scott was ever in trouble in the water, the dog wasn’t going to just sit there. She’d do whatever she could to rescue him.

Taking his first few steps into the water with that thought, he turned and looked back at Morgan. And an idea struck. Diving into the wave coming at him, he welcomed the shock of cold, and the start of a new plan, together as one.

He could thank the residents of Ocean Breeze for their welcome into their private domain by offering a water service course to their dogs—any who wanted to partake.

He’d been working with service dog programs since college—way before he’d become a licensed veterinarian. And being born and raised on the California coast...water rescue had been his first discipline. As plans gelled, his arms reached farther. Harder. His legs kicked a strong, steady beat. And when he’d gone far enough, reaching his sweet spot, he lay supine, smiling when he caught a wave and rode it in.

Was still smiling as he stood in the waist-high water...until he glanced at the beach where Morgan would be waiting for him, to see empty sand.

What the hell!

Racing out of the water, shoving at the waves with thighs that would not be denied, he glanced up and down the deserted beach, quickly, once, and then, reaching shore, turned and studied the water. Completely focused. If a wave had caught Scott’s companion...

He knew how to spot minute signs of life in the water. Partially to keep himself safe from water predators. He scoured frantically for any sign that Morgan had been washed away and was trying to make it to shore.

Scott wouldn’t have just taken the dog back to the house. Not without letting Gray know. Not when she’d been on a sit and wait command—spoken or not.

Precious seconds passed as he searched the waves, and then, while his gut clenched, fearing the worst—that he’d been responsible for his friend’s companion and hadn’t prevented disaster—he jerked to the right when he heard the sound of a dog barking frantically.

Morgan’s bark. Once. And then nothing.

The girl was down the beach, soaking wet, and...she had a life vest in her mouth. One she’d dropped to alert him, and then picked back up again.

The thing was almost as big as she was.

Feeling almost as exuberant as the dog appeared with her ears back and flying toward him as fast as she could with her goods, Gray jogged toward her, thrilled to see her healthy and safe, but flooding with a huge dose of relief, too.

At work, doing his job, he never doubted that he was worthy to be responsible for other lives. Veterinary parameters he knew. He’d been able to study until he could test perfectly on all of it. And then left the rest up to fate, confident in his knowledge.

But in his personal life, when things like waves could come up and sweep away a dog that had spent her entire life on the beach...

The idea of spending every day of his life having to be aware enough to offset unseen dangers...knowing that a dependent could perish if he didn’t foresee them. The idea of having to spend every second watching so he didn’t risk missing what he didn’t know to watch for...

He wasn’t made that way.

And figured fate had just given him that reminder.

In case his long-buried, resurfacing emotions from the past reminded him too much of why he’d asked Sage Martin to marry him, and not enough about the reason he’d broken her heart and walked away.

Sage was up before Leigh on Saturday morning. She purposely rose early in order to provide herself with half an hour of quiet time, to drink a cup of tea and reflect on...nothing.

She just wanted the tea.

Two nights in a row of walking down the beach with her daughter, trying to take the bull by the horns and get rid of the past once and for all by not avoiding it. Two nights in a row that Gray had been absent from her brother’s porch, the beach and even his cottage.

Sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the sliding glass door toward the beach, she sipped. Not reflecting.

The night before she’d actually stooped so low as to make an excuse to walk home via Ocean Breeze, the street that ran behind their cottages, the paved lane from which their parking places protruded.

Scott’s car had been absent. She’d known he’d been home earlier to tend to Morgan and had an evening function. A fancy dinner celebrating a judge’s retirement, to which many attorneys, both prosecutorial and defense, had been invited.

The letdown she’d felt had been due to the second empty parking spot at Scott’s cottage.

But still, no need for reflection. The unresolved emotions inside her were merely due to the closure she’d set out to get Thursday night. And had yet to obtain.

She’d let go of Grayson a decade ago. And had hung on to the gaping hole of loss.

Once she’d seen the distinction, she’d understood how to remedy the situation.

And that had been irritatingly absent...

Stiffening, Sage sat up straighter, her fingers clenched against the handle of her mug, as she saw Morgan run up the beach.

Alone?

Scott generally slept in a bit on Saturdays...

When Morgan dove into the water, Sage left her cup on the table and raced to the door. By the time she had it unlocked, the corgi was back out of the water, dragging something with her.

A life vest that had been washing up to shore. Sage had seen it bobbing on the water earlier. Had figured it for having fallen off a boat. Like many of the other items that eventually washed up on their beach. Set in between high and miles-long rock faces as they were, those things trying to wash to shore bobbed against mountainous rock until they finally found solace in Ocean Breeze sand.

And Morgan often dove for them.

But never alone...

With her hand frozen on the still-closed door’s pull handle, Sage watched the clearly safe dog run up the beach.

And saw the man she ran toward. With a strong surge of inappropriate warmth, she recognized him. Quite personally. That thick, dark bed of chest hair in between his nipples...the way it trickled to a single line as it ran down to his belly button...

The scar just above his right hip...

A surfing thing, he’d said, blowing her off when she’d tried to pry further. But he’d welcomed her tongue offering its own consolation down the scar’s length.

Many times.

“Mommy?”

Spinning, Sage saw Leigh, in pajama shorts and top, rubbing her eyes as she came through the living room to the kitchen. Leigh’s little nose scrunched as she looked up at Sage. “Why you standing there?” she asked, and came to push in front of Leigh to stare out.

“It’s Morgan!” the little girl cried, and with both hands on the glass, pushed the still-unlocked door open enough for herself to fit through and slid out.

“Morgan!” she cried out, dancing on the top step of the porch.

Sage had to go out, in spite of the cutoff sweat shorts and spaghetti strap top she’d worn to bed being her only attire. “Leigh, come on back in here, we aren’t dressed,” she said, just as the little girl turned around to talk over her.

“Can I go see her, Mommy? Pwease? It’s pwite to say good morning!” The little girl repeated something Sage had told her a time or two when they’d arrived at day care and a little boy that Leigh didn’t like had said hello to her.

“No!” Sage said as the little girl started down the steps.

Dying of humiliation at the thought of what was coming, Sage was relieved—and surprised—when Leigh turned back around and looked up at her.

Perhaps her tone in that no had been overly harsh.

“We aren’t dressed yet, sweetie,” she said then, offering her hand out to walk Leigh back inside. “Remember, we have to be dressed to go outside, even on the beach between our house and Uncle Scott’s house.”

Leigh immediately climbed back up to the porch. Reached the top and looked up at Sage, her expression a study in seriousness.

“Morgan’s not dressed,” she pointed out. Then turned her back and went inside.

With a grin, and a last look down the beach—relieved to see that Gray and Morgan had disappeared, hopefully into Scott’s cottage—Sage followed her daughter into the cottage.

Score one for lack of closure.

She’d get it next time.

Gray had barely come from the shower, had been stepping into clean scrubs for his morning stint at a Rockcliff pet shelter, when his phone sounded an incoming text message.

Incoming from Sage. He’d set the single clunk sound as a ringtone specific to her. Unobtrusive, innocuous...he’d know it was her, but the sound wouldn’t draw undue attention or interrupt anything else he might have going on.

But he grabbed it up like the house was on fire.

He’d seen her on her porch. When he’d heard the undeniable child voice call out for Morgan. The little one had been there, too, pretty much obscured behind the stair-rail post.

But Sage...the spaghetti straps, mostly bare thighs...

Tapping quickly to open the text, he read:

Congratulations. Let me know if you need any help getting it closed.

Remembering, only then, that he’d texted her the night before to let her know about the house sale—a necessary action considering she was completely up on his financial situation at the moment.

Dropping his phone in his shirt pocket without a response, Gray grabbed his keys, nodded at Scott, who was having coffee in the kitchen, exited the cottage as quickly as possible.

And Ocean Breeze, too.