And that was the million dollar question. For years Sage thought she knew. To be independent. Have a career. Not depend on anyone else for her happiness. But she was slowly realizing that she wasn’t happy without others in her life.
“Hot, steamy sex,” she lied and bolted out the door.
Chapter Eight
Sage
Sage’s heartbeat matched the numbers on her speedometer as she drove to Luke’s house. All of their sexual interludes had taken place at her condo. Her territory. Somehow her pregnancy hormones had taken over all logical thought and she’d agreed to dinner at his house.
Pedro, her GPS, told her to turn left on Turkey Hill Road. The road was long and winding past farms separated by fields and woods, some small, some sprawling. Pedro warned her of an upcoming turn on to Meadowbrook Lane, so she slowed and took note of the Dead End sign.
Ironic? Symbolic? Sage was in no mood to make a big deal over nothing. Pedro announced her destination on the right and she pulled into a long dirt driveway, noticing the quaint log home in the distance. Very private. Not what she expected. Not what she felt comfortable with. The house could scream family or bachelor. Only the inside would tell. She hoped for the latter.
Luke stood on the farmer’s porch, a black long-sleeved t-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and biceps, a dishtowel hanging over one shoulder, a combination of rugged and domestic. Rustic outdoorsmen weren’t her type, but there was something about him that made her lady parts scream and her heart clench, and it scared the hell out of her. She’d need to remain in control. Of her heart. Of her soul. Of whatever it was that Rayne was talking about last week.
After turning off the ignition, she carefully slid her keys into their designated spot in the side of her Dolce and Gabbana purse, unplugged her charging phone and slid it into the side pocket, and swiveled her legs to the left. Pretty soon she’d need a fork lift to help her get her out of her car. Or one of those easy chairs that elderly people used to help them up. Grasping onto the door, she pulled herself up and smoothed her chocolate pencil skirt.
Her growing belly didn’t fit into any of her tailored slacks but she could pull some of her skirts up over her stomach. Granted, they made the skirts a few inches shorter, but she’d never been a modest woman.
The end of March brought warmer temperatures, melting snow, and muddy driveways. Not leaving the front porch, Luke leaned against the railing, his bulging arms crossed over his chiseled chest, a knowing smirk on his face. Sage looked down at her teal heels and took in the gravel, pockets of water, and thick mud.
“I’d offer you a hand, but I know how you feel about being a damsel in distress,” Luke said from the porch.
Gucci platform pumps may not have been the shoes to wear out to the country, but she had back-to-back-to-back appointments in Portland—where the streets were paved—and didn’t have time to change. The fact that she may have dressed this morning with her date in mind more than her appointments didn’t need to be revisited.
“I didn’t know you lived on a farm. I would have worn my rain boots.” Not that she’d have worn her pair of red Kate Spade rain boots. She didn’t like to wear them in bad weather and chance them getting dirty.
Luke laughed and stepped out from the porch. “Need a hand?”
“No. Thank you very much. I can walk on my own. I’m not an invalid.”
Closing the door to her car, she walked on tiptoe, locating the least messy route to the front door. Before she made it to the first step her ankle gave out and she tumbled forward. Two strong arms stopped her fall as she banged her head off a wall of steel. Superman to the rescue. Again.
“Easy, honey. Are you okay?” Luke’s hands gripped her arms as he pushed her back so he could assess the damage.
“Your driveway sucks. You should have it paved,” Sage huffed and pulled out of his grasp.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
“Of course I’m fine. People trip. They deal with the embarrassment and move on.” Sage drew her hand up his chest and pulled the kitchen towel off his shoulder. “Now tell me, handsome. What’s for dinner? Or did you want to start with dessert?”
Luke studied her, his eyes smoldering as his dimple made its grand entrance. “You’re going to have to work a little harder for dessert, sweetheart.” He took her hand and guided her up the steps to his humble abode.
Oh, tonight will be fun.
His house was a blend of bachelorhood and family. A giant stone fireplace ruled the living room, giving it a rustic feel, and a flat screen television was mounted above the mantel that was filled with pictures of his various brothers and sisters. The kitchen had a lived-in feel to it. Luke knew his way around the black granite counters and stainless appliances. There were gadgets in a jar by the stove that Sage couldn’t begin to name.
They enjoyed a meal of foreplay. Sage slid her bare foot up Luke’s leg while they ate a spinach, cranberry, and walnut salad. Luke trailed his hand and lips up and down Sage’s arm while she tried to gracefully sip her French onion soup. And Sage upped the ante by puckering her lips and seductively blowing on every bite of mashed potato and roasted chicken, even though the food was no longer hot.
They occasionally broke the mood by laughing over stories Luke shared from the fire station. She asked him questions, he elaborated with funny anecdotes.
“So what about you? What’s your funniest work story?” Luke continued to touch her. His leg brushing her knees, his hand toying with her hair, which she could now push behind her ears. Unlike her sisters, Sage never found touching and hugging important. More so an obligatory thing to do when her sisters shared good news or bad, or during a romp in a man’s bed. Foreplay was never necessary, a nuisance Sage didn’t have time to plan into her busy schedule.
Yet even with their often conflicting schedules, Luke never missed an opportunity to flirt, to play, to build up the sexual tension until they were both ready to explode. She could tell he didn’t mean for his touches to be sexual right now as they talked about family and work, yet every time his hands slid across her body, whether it be her breasts or her kneecaps, she had an uncontrollable desire to strip his clothes off and lick a trail from his lips to his abs. And even further south. Something she never had the desire to do before.
“I don’t have stories to tell. I work alone and deal with clients who are planning events.” She sipped her iced tea and changed the subject. “Is it time for dessert yet?”
“So tell me your favorite childhood memory.”
They were nonexistent unless you counted the times she busted Thyme coming in late on a school night. “I’d rather make some memories in that big bed of yours.” She stood and reached for Luke’s hand, but he pulled her down on his lap.
“Or we can have dessert at the table. That works for me too.” Sage slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Normally she didn’t have trouble coaxing his mouth open, but Luke’s lips remained closed, his eyes open, watching her. He didn’t break eye contact when Sage pulled back.
“Why won’t you talk to me?”
“Talk is overrated, cowboy.” She slid her hands under his shirt and felt him flinch.
“Tell me about your sisters.”
“Sorry. They’re both happily married.”
“I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you. And your sisters are a large part of your life.”
Sliding off his lap, Sage straightened her skirt. “We agreed on sex. Not emotions, feelings, and…this.” She waved her hand over the table and at the leftover food on the counter.
“I don’t remember that agreement. I remember asking you out a dozen times and getting rejected.”
“Exactly. I don’t want out, I want sex. Before I can’t have it anymore.”
“Why won’t you be able to have it anymore?” Luke stood, trapping her between his enormous lumberjack body and the counter.
“Have you seen me lately?” She placed her hands on her stomach.
>
“Yes, I have.” Luke’s hazel gaze remained locked on hers as he lifted his hands to cup her face. She couldn’t handle the smoldering look he gave her. It didn’t scream sex like previous looks. It screamed relationship and heartbreak.
“Luke, I—”
A loud knock on the front door sounded seconds before it opened.
“Anyone home? Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know you had company.” Lucy sauntered into the kitchen, a devilish grin on her lips.
“The black car in the driveway didn’t give you a clue?” Luke turned and scowled at his smiling sister.
“Smells good.” She picked up a lid on the stove. “Date night chicken and French onion soup. Mind if I have the rest?” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bowl before Luke could respond.
“Lucy. I have company,” he growled.
“I know. Hey, Sage. How’s it going?” Lucy got a spoon out of a drawer and made herself at home at the table. “Don’t let me interrupt. Carry on.” She waved her spoon as if dismissing them and started slurping her soup.
Sage burst out in laughter. “God, you’re priceless.” Ignoring the intruder, she picked up the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.
“What are you doing?” Luke asked.
“I’m cleaning up. You cooked. I clean. Only fair.”
“Aww, how sweet. And domestic. I didn’t peg you as the type,” Lucy said from the table.
Again, the girl’s audacity made Sage laugh. Lucy reminded Sage of herself at the age. And even today.
“Lucy,” Luke warned.
Sage patted Luke’s arm. “I’ve got this,” she whispered to him, handed him the dishrag, and joined Lucy at the table.
“So what’s your problem?” Sage asked.
“Me? No problem. Just wanted something to eat. Luke always has extras.”
“Uh-huh. Don’t you have other brothers and a sister to pick on?”
“They’re no fun.”
“They poke and prod and try to psychoanalyze the giant-ass chip on your shoulder, right?” Lucy stopped slurping and put her spoon down as Sage continued talking. “But Luke just takes your shit and doesn’t try to change you. So you’ve taken on the role of protector. Trying to ward off all the girls. I bet you scare most of them.”
Lucy leaned back in her chair, tipping the front legs off the floor. “Now you sound like you’re trying to shrink me.”
“Nope. I’m not asking what your problem is. I don’t really care. I’m just calling you out.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Make yourself at home. There’s leftover chicken in the oven. Luke and I are going to his room to have dessert.” Sage walked over to Luke and grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall.
“His room is upstairs!” Lucy called from the kitchen.
Sage stopped and looked at Luke, a smile tugging at his lips. “This way.” He chuckled, leading her through the kitchen again and around a corner to stairs that she didn’t see when she entered the house.
They didn’t miss the laughter coming from downstairs or the front door opening and closing shortly after.
“I’ve never heard Lucy laugh like that before.”
Sage ignored Luke and lifted his shirt over his head. While he pulled his arms out, she worked on his zipper.
“I think the two of you will get along pretty well.”
She didn’t want to get along with Luke’s sister. She wanted sex, not a family get-together. Once Luke was naked she pushed him backwards and he fell on the bed. Sage stood between his legs and whipped off her shirt. She attempted to shimmy out of her skirt, only her belly was in the way.
“Dammit.” She pulled the stretchy fabric over her belly, moving her hips to the left and to the right in an attempt to look halfway seductive.
“Need help, sweetheart?”
“No,” she barked.
Luke sat up and rubbed his calloused hands up her legs, cupping her butt under her skirt. “Come here.” He pulled her closer, her knees bumping into the bed. “Closer,” he whispered, bringing her face down to his, and stilled her with a slow and sensual kiss that made her knees buckle. In a move so gentle and graceful, he swept her on to the bed, rolling on top of her, using his elbows to brace himself above her body so he wouldn’t crush her. Still, her belly brushed his.
Sage looked down where they touched, belly-to-belly. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re beautiful.” He trailed kisses down her neck, through the valley between her breasts, and settled on her bump. “Gorgeous.” He circled her belly with kisses and went lower, causing every nerve ending in Sage’s body to spark.
***
Luke
Luke was still trying to catch his breath when Sage sat up and started dressing. “Where are you going?” He reached out to grab her hand but she moved too quickly.
“Home.” She strapped on her bra and slipped into her blouse.
“Stay.” Luke sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I have a chocolate cream pie downstairs.”
“I’m good with dessert sex. No need to pack on any more pounds than necessary.”
She ran her fingers through her growing hair and smiled at him. “Thanks for dinner. And for this.” She nodded toward the bed.
Luke debated on whether he should follow her and convince her to stay the night. Or at least for another round of dessert sex. Or hell, he’d settle for her company over a slice of pie. But the woman ran when he pushed too hard. He’d been holding back over the weeks. Not taking conversation beyond the basic weather, work, and current events. He slipped in snippets of his family life here and there, Sage never offering any personal information of her own. Obviously wanting to keep their relationship purely sexual.
He knew if he pushed he’d completely lose her. Something had to have happened to her to make her fear relationships. Growing up with brothers and sisters who came from difficult pasts, and spending half his adolescence in therapy, he could see past the hardened, serious façade Sage put on. Just like Lucy. Both women had layers and hidden deep were two sensitive, caring individuals crying out for attention.
Luke was a patient man and would wait for Sage to realize he was a good guy. And she was a good person. And how perfect they’d be for each other. He slid on a pair of basketball shorts and walked her to her car, kissing her briefly before waving goodbye.
The next day at the firehouse Luke walked into the lounge and saw Brian in an embrace with his wife. As Luke turned around to give the couple privacy, Brian called out, “Come in, Luke. You can be the first to hear the news.”
Luke walked back in and quirked an eyebrow. “Hey, Claire.”
“Hi, Luke.” Brian’s wife grinned from ear to ear, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. Luke had obviously walked in on something. “We’re pregnant. Again.”
“Congratulations. Wow. This makes three?”
“Yeah. In four years.”
“You guys are busy.”
“If my wife wasn’t so dammed sexy I’d be able to keep my hands to myself.” Brian pulled Claire in for another hug and kissed her head.
“As if. I still haven’t lost the baby weight from Faith and she’s three.”
Claire’s phone rang. She gave her husband a kiss and moved toward the windows to take her call.
“She’s great.”
“Yeah. She’s a keeper.” Brian pulled a water bottle from the fridge. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
Brian tossed one to Luke and dropped to the nearest chair. “I’m happy. Really, I am. We’d talked about having one more but I thought we’d wait a few more years.” He unscrewed his water bottle and chugged half of it down before coming up for air. “But our friends and family have turned into baby-making machines and she got the itch.”
Luke didn’t know too much about Brian and Claire. He liked the guy. They got along well but traveled in different circles. Luke’s brothers and sisters were all in their late twenties and early thirties and he knew his mother ha
d hoped one of them would be settled down and married by now. Popping out a slew of grandkids.
“Claire’s brother and his wife are having another baby. And the wife’s sister is pregnant. With twins.” Brian shuddered and finished his water bottle, sinking down in one of the worn out recliners. “Don’t know what I’d do if we had twins.”
“Twins could be fun,” Claire teased as she ended her call and sat on the armrest to Brian’s chair.
“Do they run in your family?” Luke sipped his water and stretched his feet out in front of him.
“No. My sister-in-law’s sister who is pregnant is actually a surrogate for the other sister. Kinda cool. Definitely not what we expected from Sage. She’s not the…pregnant type.”
Luke spit out his water and sat up straighter. “Sage?”
“Do you know her?”
Know her? Hell, he knew every curve, every freckle, every sensitive spot on her body. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“Really?” Claire gave Luke a measured look before her mouth turned into a man-eating grin.
“Interesting one, huh? Never pegged her to do something like this for Thyme. Sage is your stereotypical independent woman. Total ballbuster. Take-no-prisoners kinda woman,” Brian said as he rubbed his wife’s leg.
Oh, Luke knew all too well.
“So how do you know Sage?” Claire asked.
“She organized my mother’s sixtieth birthday party a few weeks ago.”
“She’s good at that,” Claire said. “You should see our kids’ birthday parties. Sage goes a little nuts but we love it. The guys? They sit back, sip their beer, and usually offer to do cleanup. Not a bad deal.”
“Oh please. We slave over the grill and roll around in the dirt with the kids while you girls sip margaritas.”
“We’re all pregnant. There can’t be rolling, and no more sipping…for a while.”
Brian shook his head and apologized to Luke. “Single guy like you probably goes out every night with a different girl. Oh, I remember those days,” Brian teased and Claire swatted him. “We’re probably boring you.”
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