Page 27 of Shared By the Mountain Men

Noah winced. “I had two drinks at dinner. I know I don’t have to drive far to get home, but I probably shouldn’t risk it.”

“That would set a bad example as the town doctor,” I agreed, but it felt like rejection. Maybe our date was coming to an end after all.

I didn’t want it to end, though. I was having a wonderful evening with Noah. For the first time since I could remember, I felt likemyself.

“Nowthat’screepy,” I said as we passed a shop with antique dolls suspended in the window. It was a hobby store with all sorts of collectibles.

“It looks possessed,” Noah said, peering through the window. “I can’t believe little girls used to carry those around.”

“Toy technology has come a long way. Do you collect anything?”

“As a matter of fact, I collect model airplanes.”

I gave a start. “Really?”

“You make it sound like it’s a silly hobby.”

“It’s alittledorky,” I replied. “I would know, because I collected Beanie Babies. And not when they were popular. Like, two decades too late.”

“You should probably keep that to yourself,” Noah teased.

“Model airplanes are much cooler, even if they’re still dorky. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“How about now?” Noah suddenly asked.

I cocked my head at him.

“This isn’t just an excuse to invite you over to my place,” he insisted, holding up his palms. “I promise my intentions are pure. I’ll take you home right after.”

“I’d love to see them.”

We walked back to his car. His hand wasso close to mine, it would have been incredibly easy to reach out and take it. I yearned for some physical touch from him, even just holding hands for two blocks. But despite the two margaritas in me, I couldn’t bring myself to make the move.

Noah drove me to his home, continuing up the dirt road a little longer rather than turning into Jack’s campsite. The trees disappeared and we came into an open field, with a picturesque two-story home standing in the middle.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“I think so, too,” he said while pulling the 4Runner to a stop. “Let me give you a tour.”

Mustering what courage I had, I said, “How about a nightcap, now that you don’t have to drive anywhere?”

His brows rose. “You’ve still got to get home.”

“I can walk from here. It’s like a quarter of a mile. Even the doctor who diagnosed my busted ankle would let me dothat.”

I gave Noah a challenging look. He smiled. “I’ll fix us up something tasty.”

The first floor of the house held the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The ceilings were high, and everything was made of wood and stone. It had a distinctly mountain vibe to it, and I loved it immediately.

Noah went to the bar cart in the corner of the living room and quickly got to work. A champagne cork was popped, and then his hands were a flurry of motion.

“If you’re as skilled with a scalpel as you are with a cocktail shaker, then your patients are in good hands,” I said.

Without looking up from his work, he half-smirked. “I don’t do many surgeries. Only in emergencies. But I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.” With a final flourish, he held out two glasses, one for me.

“This looks tasty! And so colorful!”

“It’s called a Purple Mountain. Champagne, elderflower liqueur, blueberry syrup, and a rosemary sprig for a garnish.”

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