by Hill, Joanne
He swallowed down hard as the enormity of it hit him. She wasn’t just Sage, the cute, brilliant, blonde any more.
She was more than that.
He said gruffly, “You will just sleep, maybe throw up a time or two, drink fluids, take painkillers and feel like rubbish for the next twenty-four hours – if your daughter’s experience is anything to go by.”
Her mouth curled, but her eyes didn’t leave his. “You really don’t have to look after me,” she repeated.
“I know that.” He pulled his hand reluctantly away. “The thing is, I know I don’t have to look after you.” His heart began to pound so fast in his chest he thought it was about to explode. “But Sage? I want to.”
She opened her mouth slightly, but nothing came out.
He pushed himself up from the bed. He’d revealed enough. Maybe even too much. “I’ll bring you some juice and water.”
She continued to stare at him, but there was nothing he could read in her expression. Except shock. What was she thinking? He could ask her directly, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“Well, thank you,” she said finally. “I hope Eric and the twins don’t all come down with this thing.”
He was grateful for the change of subject and figured it was deliberate. She had no idea what to say to him. It had shocked her as much as it had shocked him.
He said, “They probably will get it.” He grinned at her, told himself the tension had gone even though his heart was still kicking up a racket in his chest. “But then, that won’t be our problem. It’ll be Robyn and Jack’s.”
Josh and Anthony had the children sitting around the kitchen table, plying them with more cookies. Ethan called Harry, who was worried but thought the best thing was for Sage to stay put.
“I really thought I was going to vomit all over your truck yesterday,” she admitted, and put Mrs Parker on the line.
Mrs P agreed with him that he should bring the children back. She and Harry would get a bag of Sage’s gear together. And, she said, given her—Sage’s—age and the speed and severity with which the virus had taken her down, it would pay for him to take good care of her.
Ethan disconnected the call, and tapped his phone against his thigh.
Her age? Extra good care?
Now he was really worried. Sage was around his age, sure, and they weren’t over the hill – yet – but who knew how this was going to pan out?
He rounded up James, Ruby and Eric, buckled them into the truck, and drove them back to Jack’s. It was not a peaceful trip. He reminded them their parents were due home in a few hours’ time, which set them off on arguments over who was going to get a hug first and who was the favourite child.
At Jack’s, Harry told them, “I finished the cake and you can have some, but you go and wash your hands first.”
“You’re a good childminder,” Ethan said with approval.
“Actually, Mrs P reminded me,” she admitted.
Mrs Parker made the children sit up at the table in the dining room, where she set out plates, forks and paper napkins. “A cake like this deserves the royal treatment,” she explained.
Harry blushed and said to Ethan, “I’ve got a backpack for Mum. It’s got her clothes and her bathroom things. How sick is she?”
“Pretty out of it. She keeps getting dizzy but she’s okay as long as she stays in bed. I’m happy for her to stay at my place for now.” He added, “Assuming you trust me to look after her?”
She seemed to give it consideration. “Yes, I do. I think you’d make a good husband.”
A good husband? Ethan stared blankly at her. “I…well, thank you. I guess.”
“My pleasure.” She picked up her plate, and the momentary sense of panic at the statement began to subside. Clearly, she didn’t mean anything by it. He was a man, Sage was a woman. He supposed he was doing what a “good” husband would do.
Even though he hadn’t been one in the past, and he had no illusions that was going to change any time soon.
He glanced again at Harry, but she was engrossed in discreetly pulling pieces of icing off the cake and sampling it. Mrs Parker leant over and swatted her hand, and Harry protested, “But I made it.”
“I just want us all to appreciate it before Jack’s lot get in and wreck it.”
Harry blushed.
She was a kid, Ethan reminded himself. Of course she didn’t mean anything by that ‘husband’ comment.
At the door, Mrs Parker handed him a supermarket bag. “Plenty of snacks in there for you and your friends. Not that you need to fatten Sage up. At her age, shifting it will be a marathon effort, but a few days of fat and sugar won’t hurt.”
He couldn’t help laughing out loud. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
“You can pretend all you like, McGraw. In fact, you seem pretty good at it, if you ask me.”
He reached into the bag, fished around, and pulled out a cookie. “I don’t pretend. I’m black and white. You ask Jack.”
She gave a ‘harrumph’ sound. “I’m just saying men are daft, and that’s all I’m saying. Text me later with an update. Much as you two were utter failures looking after Jack’s family, it means a lot to me that you offered to do that for him. They mean the world to him.”
It was one of the nicest things she’d ever said to him. “I’ll text you,” he promised. It went both ways, loyalty. Her loyalty to both Jack and Robyn meant a lot to him. Loyalty meant a lot, period.
By the time he hit the main road, the traffic was astoundingly busy, and travelling at rush hour pace, in spite of it being the weekend. He tuned the radio to the sports station, and after two adverts for erectile dysfunction, switched over to classic rock. He didn’t need to hear the lamenting and the criticizing over the failed cricket test anyway, which would no doubt dominate sports radio for the next week.
He stared broodily out, frustrated at the pace of the traffic. Frustrated at how long it was going to take to get back out to his place, and back out to Sage. He drummed his hands on the steering wheel. His thoughts hadn’t moved away from her. They’d been on her most of the day. She sat there, like a burden on his soul, always reminding him. Always there.
And, yeah, he was worried about her. He was concerned because she had never struck him as the succumb-to-sickness type.
He glanced at the empty seat next to him, and could have sworn the scent of her, that perfume she used, was still here, in the cab. A horn sounded behind him, and he quickly moved forward.
Sage drove him crazy.
She was gorgeous, crazy, devoted, talented, considerate, flaky, brilliant, funny, and caring.
Who wouldn’t be in love with—
He nearly rear-ended the hatchback in front of him, and he wound the window down fast, breathing deeply. His words came back to him as he sucked in the air, drawing it deep down into his lungs.
Who wouldn’t be in love with all that?
No. He took another breath, and then gulped another. No. Of course he wasn’t—
Deny it all you like, but you know it’s the truth.
You’ve known it all along.
He was in love with Sage.
He pressed the button on his armrest to wind the passenger window down, to let more breeze blow though the cab. To clear his head and take everything he’d been thinking the past minute out and far away.
His body slumped.
That’s what Mrs Parker had alluded to and, damn it, she was right. She’d made enough jabs, long before Robyn and Jack’s wedding, to tell him what he hadn’t known or refused to see.
He’d chosen to ignore it, to pass it off as attraction.
The traffic began to shift. They were finally moving at the speed limit, and in less than half an hour he’d be home.
Sage Lockwood. From the moment he’d met her, he’d been attracted to her. He’d fought it, and given in to it that one night they’d babysat and had ended up throwing themselves at each other, right in front of Jack and Robyn. He’d
plucked up courage and asked her out, but the date never happened. He’d been having second thoughts and on that day he’d got stuck in a motorway pile up, texted her to say he wasn’t going to make it, and she messaged back to say she had a headache anyway.
And that was it.
How could you be in love with someone you barely knew?
How?
Ethan changed the radio back to sports radio and settled in for twenty minutes of cricket madness.
When he stepped in the door, Josh and Anthony were on their way out. Josh was tying up his shoelaces, preparing to head out for a long run down the country roads. He trained regularly for the half marathons he ran; he’d be gone for an hour. Anthony was checking his phone, planning to head out to the bush at the back, where Ethan’s neighbours were happy for him and his guests to wander at any time. It led down to the stream; you couldn’t feel any further away from civilisation.
Exertion did it for Josh. Solitude did it for Anthony.
For Ethan, much as he ran to keep fit, it was the repetitive monotony of painting and stripping wallpaper and sanding and varnishing, with music hooked up to the speakers or, on occasions, just the silence. Although silence wasn’t always a good thing, not when it led you right back to your thoughts.
When Josh and Anthony had left, and silence sat throughout the house, he took a breath against the nerves threatening to shatter his composure, and went through to his room.
He walked through the doorway, his gaze on sleeping Sage.
It sat over him, now. Now that he knew what had been happening all these weeks. Now that he realized what he was feeling and how it had crept up on him.
What was he supposed to do, now?
He set the backpack down by his bed, and watched her sleeping figure.
He was in love with her.
He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
What on earth was he meant to do now?
He’d loved his first wife. They’d dated a year and marriage seemed the natural thing to do, even though he’d been in the army. The army had been his life and there’d been a part of him that had known it was never going to work between them. There were still too many demons, too many dreams. She wanted a man who’d be around, not someone who spent months out of the country. She thought he’d change.
He’d known all along that if he was going to change, it wasn’t about settling down in a Monday-to-Friday job, with kids, a puppy, and Saturdays spent watching school soccer games.
You head overseas and fix other people’s lives, but you’re not giving anything to this marriage, she’d accuse. You’re not doing anything for me.
And she’d been right.
He could have left the defense force at any time, but he had chosen to stay. Two years later, she’d chosen to leave him.
He watched Sage, and his heart tumbled.
She was with Barry.
As much as she said they weren’t really a couple, a heading-for-the-altar couple, she was still with Barry.
It wasn’t going to last with him. It couldn’t. They weren’t right for each other, and Sage was old enough and wise enough to know that. She’d even said it herself, but she was still dating him.
“I’m the one for you,” Ethan murmured.
He grabbed her water bottle and went to refill it in the kitchen.
And she was the one for him.
Barry was convenient for Sage. Ethan saw that now. Barry didn’t want kids, and that’s why Sage was good for him. Barry assumed he was safe from broody females with Sage.
Although maybe Sage did want more kids? She’d given birth to Harriet insanely young, and if she decided marriage was what she wanted, maybe another baby or two would eventually be part of that picture.
A month ago the thought of being a father was not something Ethan had ever considered. But now…
Quit it, McGraw.
Get off that track, because Sage did not think of him as anything more than some annoying attraction.
He pulled out his phone and checked his messages.
Jack had texted to say the plane was on schedule and they’d arrive at Auckland International on time. His car was parked at the airport, and once they got through customs, they’d be back at home in less than an hour.
Ethan sent him back an update on what was happening, saying that Harry and Mrs P were looking after the children, and to let Harry stay the night, if she wanted.
He set the phone on the dresser. He needed a shower. He needed to scrub off the stupidity of loving Sage.
He gave her one last look, and inside felt a degree of defeat he’d never known in his life.
“What the hell,” he muttered, “am I going to do?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
For the next twenty-four hours, Sage woke up on and off, drank water, and took painkillers to deal to the wretched feeling pounding her body.
At some point, she woke up and realized she was returning to normal. She was at Ethan’s. Harry was at Jack’s.
She fumbled for her phone in her bag, and squinted at the time. She’d agreed to go with Barry to that concert, but she wasn’t up to it, and he hadn’t messaged her at all about it. She sent him a text to tell him she’d pass on it, but that he could hang onto her car another day, if he liked.
He got back to her an hour later to say that suited him because a few of the gang were heading up north.
The gang. His university friends.
She sighed heavily as she sent a ‘Have a good time, talk later’ reply. That was the truth. He’d rather be with his friends than with her, and it was nothing new. It had always suited her that he wasn’t clingy and demanding and that it was casual between them.
Very casual. They’d never slept together, and she hadn’t missed that. He wasn’t the most passionate of men anyway, and even more, she realized, as she set the phone on the bedside table, he still hadn’t even asked how she was.
It was going to be the easiest breakup in the history of breakups. It was going to be painless; they would no doubt stay friends. Barry was launching a vegan recipe blog, and she’d volunteered some chickpea and lentil recipes ages ago.
She closed her eyes, and what seemed like a second later, opened them to see Ethan standing there.
Disoriented, she wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
“Hi.” She struggled up as memories of him began to flood in. He’d come in with painkillers, juice and water, even a cool flannel on her head.
Or had she dreamt all that in her hallucinatory state?
She stared up at him as he looked down at her. One thing she wasn’t hallucinating about were her feelings for him. They were there. Still there.
He sat down on the side of the bed and she asked, “It is Sunday? Isn’t it?”
He nodded. “You’ve been out of it the past twenty-four hours.”
A whole day. “I feel better.”
“You look better.”
She’d bet her house she didn’t. “Thanks for looking after me.”
He shook his head dismissively. “We were worried you might get this thing worse than Harry.”
She winced. “Harry had it pretty bad.”
“And you’re older. Older than Harry,” he hastily amended. “I mean to say that when adults get sick, they get it worse than kids. According to Mrs Parker. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He really had looked after her. The thought pleased her, but also nudged something inside of her.
Did he care? Did he actually care – about her? Because Harry could have come out and checked on her and topped up her water, or Ethan could have bundled Sage into his truck and driven her back to her place.
Except, he hadn’t.
He had let her stay in his bed, at his place, and he had looked after her.
The silence seemed to grow around them, and she heard a door bang, shockingly loud.
“That’ll be one of the guys,” Ethan remarked.
“Of course.
I vaguely remember you had some people here when we arrived.” She hadn’t been introduced to them because she’d just passed out in his front yard and was feeling like death. She added, “Friends of yours?”
He hesitated a moment. “Yeah, they are friends. They’re staying here a while.”
He stopped there, in a way that posed questions.
Curious, she pressed for more. “Are they ex-military?”
He pressed his lips together. “No.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “It’s just when you mentioned people staying here before, I got the impression it was—” She shrugged. “Top secret or something like that. I assumed military. Classified information.”
His eyes were suddenly serious. “No. Not classified or top secret so much as…” He searched for the word, and she waited.
Finally, he said, “Sensitive.”
“Oh.” Politically sensitive? It could only be to do with his past, surely. His past in war zones and political hotspots. Yet he’d just said it wasn’t that, and it wasn’t any of her business. Yet she wanted to know. She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to know everything about Ethan McGraw.
She said, “I know it’s none of my business. But I don’t understand.”
He watched her intently. “Sage, there’s a lot you don’t know. About me.”
She held her breath, and didn’t speak.
He went on, “Jack’s the only one who knows, and Robyn knows enough. It’s not the kind of thing you want to strike up a conversation about. It involves people. Lives. Innocent people.”
She’d intruded. It was nothing to do with her and she should never have asked. She said hastily, “I’m sorry, Ethan. You don’t have to tell me so forget I asked. I was just curious.”
He hesitated again and she got the feeling he wanted to tell her. But equally, he didn’t want to tell her. “The thing is…” he began. He closed his eyes a moment.
She waited. “Yes?”
“I do want you to know, Sage. I want you to know about me. I want you to know where I came from. Because it matters.”