***
Luke
Luke needed Sage so bad, he hurt. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and shucked his dirty, smoky clothes on the way to the bathroom. The past month had been holy hell. Not only had he picked up every available shift there was, but he’d somehow turned therapist and innkeeper to his sisters. Lucy and Rachael were fighting for his attention, which gave him no time to pursue Sage to find out why she was giving him the freeze out.
He knew she thought their relationship was purely sexual and figured she’d be down on her self-image. Being seven months pregnant with twins probably didn’t make a woman feel sexy. If only she’d let him near her he could show her how damn sexy he thought her. He actually preferred her with no makeup, tousled hair, and naked. Her growing belly only made her more approachable. The moving babies softened her. When she didn’t think Luke was looking, he’d catch her stroking her belly and muttering to herself, or most likely, to the babies.
Luke loved watching her grow. Being a part of this experience made him feel closer to her, even though the babies weren’t his. Heck, they weren’t hers either, but he could see how much she loved them.
She’d pretend she didn’t care for kids but he’d noticed how her nieces and nephews asked her to push them on the swing, or if they could touch her belly. He’d watched her wipe little Owen’s face after he had his cake and clean up the lemonade Maddie spilled on the picnic table. Auntie Sage to the rescue.
He wanted to be there to see the relationship develop with the babies she carried. Luke finished in the shower and dried off, noticing the foggy mirrors. Normally he didn’t spend long in the shower, but daydreaming about Sage took a lot of time.
If only she’d answer her phone, return a text. Answer her door. What they’d shared the past few months was more than hot sex. Sage may not have opened up and told him her deepest, darkest secrets, but he knew what was on her mind—sex. What she feared—intimacy. What she wanted—independence. What she needed—him.
Luke wasn’t one to give up. He’d fight for her. He’d push and push until she was too weak to fight anymore. Letting her slip away was not an option. After pulling on his jeans and a worn Red Sox shirt and baseball cap, Luke slid his feet into flip flops and searched for his keys. Whether Sage liked it or not, she’d talk to him face to face. Luke didn’t like having to stoop this low. Again. But he’d do anything to win her back.
***
Sage
Sage stuffed her belly into a simple yet fashionable black maternity skirt, pulled a tight teal blouse over her inner tube, and slipped into a pair of beige peep-toe Valentinos with lace trimming on the sides. She didn’t want to waste her money on designer maternity dresses, and figured her investment would go further in shoes. Her five o’clock appointment was a pilot, and he sounded incredibly sexy on the phone. His deep baritone voice reminded her of…no, not Luke. Just of testosterone and sex and heat. Nathan Bradley wanted to meet at Luciano’s, a pricey Italian restaurant in Kennebunkport. He’d made reservations and told her he wanted to sample the menu before making his decision to book his corporate event there and to hire her to plan the event.
A private party at Luciano’s? This would be her last event before D-day. As long as the party animals decided to keep cooking in her oven a little longer. She had five more weeks until her due date, and Mr. Bradley said this party was a last minute idea. Armed with her iPad, loaded with notes, lists, prices, and spreadsheets, Sage placed the strap of her Coach bag neatly over her shoulder and checked her reflection one last time before leaving the house.
There weren’t many cars in the parking lot yet. Too early for a romantic meal, the time was right for just the rich elderly couples out for their dinner before making it home to watch Wheel of Fortune and then hitting the sack. Sage didn’t have romantic notions with the wealthy Nathan Bradley or having wild, raunchy sex with him. One look at her naked body and he’d go screaming for the hills. But a girl could dream. Besides, he was probably seventy and she’d never sleep with a client anyway.
Except for Luke. But he wasn’t a client when she was sleeping with him. He didn’t hire her and she volunteered her services—not in bed—as a favor to his mother. Not to earn herself points in the bedroom, she didn’t need them. Sage was good at her job. In and out of the bedroom.
Still, she applied another layer of lipstick and started the inhumane torturous experience of trying to extract her extra sixty-five pounds from the car. Her four-inch heels actually helped. God, she couldn’t imagine if she had to put her feet all the way to the ground. “Damn.” Sage looked at her passenger side seat where she left her bag. She couldn’t lean in and get it. Closing her door, she walked around to the other side.
The Coach bag was just far enough in the middle of the vehicle where she couldn’t just reach down and grab it, but had to bend over and extend her hand. Hoping no one was behind her to view her newly widened ass, Sage held on to her belly—just in case the babies fell out—and strained until she could wrap her index finger around the strap. After successfully pulling the bag closer, Sage breathed a sigh of relief, picked up her bag, and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Yeah. No need to worry about improper client relationships here. She used her meaty hip to close the door and sauntered with perfect precision to the main entrance. For the first time in…ever, Sage was thankful Maine didn’t have valets. She could imagine a long stream of cars waiting as she held up traffic trying to get her enormous body out of her car.
“Good evening, madam. Party of one, or are you meeting someone?”
“Good evening. I’m meeting Nathan Bradley. I’m a little early.” Even with the delay in getting her bag, she still had ten minutes to spare.
“Would you like to wait in the lounge or shall I show you to your table?”
Sage needed time to nestle into her chair and hide her belly. “The table will be fine, thank you.”
Once seated, which took almost as much time as getting up, Sage took out her iPad and studied her notes again, not that she needed to review them. Her brain retained numbers, figures, and dates better than any app could.
“Your table, sir.” She heard the maître d’ and looked up with a smile.
“So nice to—what the hell?”
Luke stood at her table, dressed in a charcoal suit and white shirt, and a tie nearly the same blue as her blouse. She had no idea places sold fancy suits in his size. It must have cost him a fortune. His hair was shorter, styled in that sexy Channing way he’d done for her birthday.
“Sage. You look stunning.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“Would you like to see our wine list, sir?”
“I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.”
“Water then, sir?”
“That sounds perfect.” Luke didn’t take his hazel gaze off her as he pulled out his chair, unbuttoned his suit coat, and folded his long body in his seat.
“Don’t tell me. Lucy was busy so you used one of your brothers?”
“Graham. Although he wanted to take my place. Doesn’t think I deserve you.”
What? She’d done nothing but ignore him, treat him like crap for the past five weeks, and he was complimenting her? “Look, Luke. I appreciate the gesture, but as I told you all along, I don’t do this.” She waved between them.
“I think you do. And I think you do it very well.”
“Okay.” She breathed through her nose, took a sip of water, and attempted to calm her temper. “Let me rephrase that. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“Why?” He sipped his water and smiled at her, flashing that damned dimple.
“Why?”
“Yes. Why? I think I deserve to know. And you not wanting a relationship is bullshit. Call it whatever you want. Regular sex, dinner, cuddling on the couch while watching movies, and sleeping in on rainy weekends. We don’t have to call that a relationship. But whatever the hell it was, I want it back.”
“Well, you can’t. It
’s gone. It got…boring,” she lied and picked up her water again.
“Which part? The sex?” he said too loudly.
Sage blushed, darting her gaze around the nearly empty restaurant. The waitress must have mistaken her frantic movements as a sign to come over. “Good evening. I’m Monique and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you off with some hors d'oeuvres?”
“Sage? What would you like?”
“Nothing.” She folded her arms and rested them on her belly.
Monique eyed her mountain, smirked, and smiled flirtatiously at Luke. “And you, sir? What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Monique. We’d love some lobster ravioli to start. My…love—” He smirked at Sage.
“—would like the pecan-crusted salmon and asparagus with new potatoes. I’ll have rib eye, cooked medium rare. Baked potato with all of the toppings.” Luke never took his eyes off of Sage and didn’t see the irritated look Monique gave them both before marching off.
“What if I don’t want the salmon?”
“Then you should have spoken up.”
“Like you’d listen to me?”
“I always listen to you.” Luke reached across the table for her hand but she pulled it away before he could make contact.
“You’re not listening to me now.”
“Okay. I’m all ears. What would you like to eat?”
“You’re exhausting. The salmon is fine.” It was exactly what she would have ordered. The fact that he knew her so well irked her something fierce. “I’d appreciate if you would listen to me about us.”
“I’d love to talk about us.”
“There is no us.”
“If there was no us then there’d be nothing to talk about.”
“Exactly.”
“But you said you wanted to talk about us so there’s obviously something.”
Monique came by with bread and plates and tried to get Luke to notice her, but his eyes were still glued to Sage.
“Luke.”
“Sage.”
“We’re done.”
“We haven’t even started. The lobster ravioli should be here soon.”
“Are you kidding me right now? I’m telling you we’re over and you’re making a joke of it.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Don’t sweetheart me.”
For the first time she saw a flash of anger in Luke’s eyes. “Sage. You’re scared. That’s okay. We’re good together and that freaks you out. I get that. I won’t rush you, but don’t shut me out completely.” He reached for her hands; this time she was too slow to pull away. “If we were moving too fast I’ll slow things down. No sex. Just hanging out, casual dinners.”
“I don’t want dinner. I only want sex.”
Monique chose that moment to deliver the ravioli.
“Um, enjoy,” she mumbled, nearly dropping the plate in Luke’s lap.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to have sex anymore once you got…uh, when you were showing.”
Sage pulled her hand away and finished her ice water. “So you’re saying I’m fat now?”
“Aw, hell.” Luke scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sage. You know that’s not what I said or meant. You’re beautiful and I’d be more than happy to strip you down and have sex with you right now.”
The elderly couple at the table next to them turned and gasped, and Sage couldn’t help but laugh. “Your mama’s gonna wash your mouth out with soap when you get home.”
Luke smirked, his blush fading, as he stabbed at the food in front of them with his fork. “Here. Try a bite. I hear they’re amazing.” He held the forkful of lobster ravioli across the table and Sage leaned in, her belly bumping into the table.
“Damn double oven. I can’t lean over any more. Just give me the frigging food.” Sage grabbed the fork and shoved the ravioli in her mouth. “Ohmigawd,” she moaned. Sage closed her eyes and let the flavors of lobster, thyme, and butter roll around in her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Luke’s shoulders were stiff, his jaw clenched. “Are you all right?”
He shifted in his seat and looked around the restaurant before bringing his hands down to his lap. “I’ll be fine.” His hazel gaze roamed back to her lips, traveled down to her cleavage, and back up to her eyes. Sage bit back a smile and took another bite. This time she kept her gaze locked on Luke’s as she licked her lips and moaned.
“You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
“Oh?” She slipped her foot out of her designer heels—which was hard to do with her feet so swollen—and pointed her toes, ready to work them up Luke’s leg.
“I’m more than happy to take our dinner in a doggy bag and bring you back to my place.”
Shit. What the hell was she doing flirting with Luke Riley? She was supposed to be pushing him away, convincing him that she didn’t need his sexy body, smoldering smile, or beautiful heart. Sage shoved her feet back in her Valentinos and perfected her shrewd business smile. “I’m famished and can’t wait to try the salmon. I hear it’s amazing. But if you’ll excuse me, the twins have decided to have a dance party on my bladder.”
Sage shifted her butt to the edge of her chair, placed one hand on the table to give her extra support, and hefted herself up. Or rather, attempted to. The second try was no better. Before she could inhale and shove off for her third, Luke’s large hands wrapped around her triceps as he pulled her up. “I could have done that by myself.”
“I’m sure you could have. But I’d have offered you my hand even if you weren’t pregnant.”
“I didn’t hear you offer. You just grabbed a hold of me and yanked.” Sage pulled her blouse down and cringed when baby on the right started her Aliens move. She rolled her eyes as her belly twisted and peaked and changed shape. Her skin pulled tight and her bladder was ready to go off like Old Faithful. Luke stared and swore. “Like I said, the little brats are twisting and shouting. Gotta go.” She pulled free and waddled to the restroom.
Her legs ached from squatting over the toilet for so long, but Sage was in shape and managed to hold herself upright while she peed. After washing her hands and making sure she didn’t have any toilet paper stuck to her heel, she took one last peek in the mirror and took a deep breath. She’d get through dinner and send Luke on his way. She couldn’t be near him without wanting to jump his bones, and no matter how often she did yoga, she simply couldn’t move like she used to.
Thankfully their dinners were on the table when she returned. Luke stood, pulled out her chair for her, and waited for Sage to sit before returning to his seat. “This looks delicious.” Sage picked up her fork, slid it through her salmon, and lifted it to her mouth. Careful not to lick her lips, moan, or close her eyes, she ate her meal in silence, only occasionally looking up to see Luke slice through his steak.
She made small talk, mostly about business and weather, and he replied with simple, straightforward responses. “The fourth of July wedding was beautiful. The Portland fireworks could be seen from the banquet room, making the grand finale of the reception one the bride and groom will remember forever.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“Hmm, yes. It’s crazy how much money people throw away for a few hours of fun, but since my livelihood depends on it, I’m thankful people still want to have large weddings.”
“Still? Meaning…?”
“The divorce rate is ridiculous. Can anyone guarantee their relationship will last forever? No. So why waste your savings for a party that you’ll end up regretting later on?”
“So you don’t believe in marriage?” Luke frowned.
Good. This is where she could piss him off and scare him away. “There are those who were meant to marry and spit out kids, my sisters being two of those people. I’m guessing you’re one as well. Me? Never. It’s not for me. I’ve never had a relationship with a man and never will.”
“Never?” Luke leaned forward instead of back as she had hoped.
“Nope.”
“Who did
you bring to your senior prom?”
“Gross. I’d never be caught dead at a high school dance.”
“Let me guess. You were on the prom committee and planned the entire event, only to watch your sisters get dolled up and have a good time while you wallowed in your self-pity at home.”
Damn, the man was good. “I never wallowed. I scoffed at my sisters and their pathetic fairy tale dreams.”
“Ah, but I’d say they came true.”
“I suppose. But they didn’t need to go to some stupid overpriced high school dance.”
“And you’ve never been a tad jealous of your sisters and their social lives?”
“Never.”
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?” Sage leaned back and crossed her arms angrily over her protruding belly.
“Would you like dessert tonight?” Monique asked, saving Luke from a tongue thrashing.
“Sage?”
“No, thank you. I’ll take the check, please.”
“You can put it on this.” Luke pulled out his credit card and gave it to the waitress. Her fingers lingered on the card, or more so his fingers, before she pulled it away.
“I’ll be right back.” The waitress looked down at his card and then back up at her date. “Luke.” She put a ridiculous amount of sway in her hips as she walked off.
Sage rolled her eyes and returned them to the sexy and infuriating man across from her. “Oh. My. God. She is totally hitting on you. Right in front of me.”
“Good thing we’re not in a relationship then, huh?”
Sage picked up her empty water glass and sucked an ice cube in her mouth, crunching hard on it. “Damn straight.”
After Luke scribbled his signature on the receipt, he helped Sage out of her seat and, keeping his hand at her waist, guided her through the tables. He walked her to her car, but there he stood in front of her door, blocking her entrance.
“Just so you know, I’m still angry at you for setting me up like this,” Sage said. “I thought I made it clear that the sex between us is over. I’m no shape to keep up with our bedroom gymnastics. Monique looked like she wanted to fill that opening though.”
Wilde For You (The Wilde Sisters Book 3) Page 12