by Hill, Joanne
Her heart began to beat faster, to beat stronger and louder. Don’t get your hopes up. The truck door opened and inside her, anticipation welled up and she fought it back down again. You have never been a ‘get your hopes up’ kind of woman, and for the love of all that is rational, do not start becoming one now you’re—nearly—middle aged.
She took a breath, deep and hard against the hope she couldn’t for the life of her get rid of, and gritted her teeth against the disappointment no doubt greeting her when she saw the courier. Or the driver dropping off timber.
The vehicle door shut, she plastered a smile on her face, pulled the back door open wider and she stepped outside.
It was Ethan.
He strode towards her house, purpose in the movement, his gaze focused so intently on her she couldn’t move.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps.
For a long moment, he looked up at her.
She lifted her chin, and took a step down. She willed her voice to be calm.
“Hello, Ethan.”
He took a breath. “I’ve got choices.”
She looked over at his house. He was talking about design? She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
Finally, she said, “So?”
He held out a supermarket bag.
She stared at it and he said, “It’s for you.”
She took it, unable to think. He was giving her shopping?
“What is this?” she said.
He gestured, “Take a look.”
She opened the bag and stared down at boxes of crackers, lots of boxes of crackers, and cheeses. There must have been half a dozen different types of cheese in there.
Slowly, she looked back up at him.
He had given her cheese and crackers?
“It’s like this,” he said, “I can pretend I never met you and I can just get on with my life and hope that maybe one day I won’t even recall your name. Which will be hard because I really like using sage when I cook.”
She was an ingredient? At least she was something. She took a breath. “What’s the other choice?”
“The other choice?” He moved up a step, close enough so if she put out her hand, she would touch him.
“The other choice,” he said, “is that I come here. I tell you I was wrong about you. About this.” His hand waggled between them. “This thing between us. And I tell you the truth.”
He paused a moment, his eyes blazing as he reached out and took her hand. She nearly stopped breathing as he held it to his chest. Against his heart. “I tell you that I love you, Sage Lockwood. I am in love with you. You are brilliant and gorgeous and kind and loving and amazing. A little crazy at times, admittedly.”
It was her turn to flinch. She wasn’t sure how good she was at being kind and loving but a little crazy, she was not going to disagree with—
Her heart began to pound, pound loudly as she went back to what he’d said before the brilliant and the gorgeous. Had he said…
“So I’ve got choices.” Still holding her hand, he pulled her gently closer and said in a low voice, “And I choose you.” She stared at him, at the intensity in his eyes, at the doubt that was sitting there, as though he was steeling himself.
And it struck her what he was doing.
Something that might have been pure joy began to bubble in her chest.
He was reaching out. He wasn’t offering to help her or do something for her, he was reaching out to her.
She swallowed down as a heavy lump of emotion seemed to stick in her throat. He had just laid his heart on the line. He was using all the courage he had and he was laying himself on the line.
“So,” he said. “I’ve made that choice.”
He took the bag of cheese and crackers from her and set them on the step. “And I don’t care if you eat these in bed and spill crumbs everywhere. I just want you.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe as tears pricked in her eyes.
He couldn’t have known what she was going to say. There’d never been any guarantee she wasn’t just going to throw the ball back, walk inside and close the door. She could almost see that thought in his expression.
He’d taken such a risk.
Finally, she said, her voice a whisker away from cracking, “I have tendencies.”
His eyebrows arched.
“I tend to want to care for those people I love.” Those tears were starting to blur her vision now. “And Ethan? I really want to care for you. In every way that I possibly— ” Her voice finally cracked, and she blinked furiously and saw that he was doing the same.
He ground out, “It’s one of the things I’ve grown to love about you.” He put both his hands up to the side of her face. The feel of his hands was so warm, and intimate, and protective, she was overwhelmed.
A moment later, his lips were on hers.
Warm and vulnerable.
She put her arms around him as he pressed his body against hers, and then his arms were around her, and he held her tight.
“I love you, Sage Lockwood,” he murmured against her hair. “I want to be with you forever. I want to love you and take care of you and make love to you and get messed up in the sand with you, and eat your tofu scramble, and do everything with you, and never let you go.”
She sighed as bliss, joyous bliss, swept wonderfully through her.
“I’m not sure about the sand,” she murmured.
“Neither,” he said, “am I. But that’s how much I love you.”
She pulled back and looked up at him, and yes. That joy was mirrored right back at her.
“You know I love you,” she said breathlessly. “And I want to do everything with you, and never let you go.”
His gaze never left hers. “Forever?” he asked finally.
“Yeah,” she said as his lips met hers, and she thought, right here, right now, this was it. Ethan and Sage. This was it. “Absolutely forever.”
EPILOGUE
One month later.
The champagne flowed, the air hummed with relief and celebration, and Ethan realized that happy endings didn’t just come in one. Alongside him, Sage had her arm around his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. It was so right. So unbelievably right. The dress she wore was summery and white, and her hair fell loosely down her back. Harry stood in front of them, furiously texting.
The jury had returned unanimous guilty verdicts and sentencing would take place in the coming weeks.
Ethan felt satisfied. Not happy. Happy wasn’t the right word for everything that had happened. But satisfied, and relieved.
Even more, relieved for himself. For the kid he’d been.
It was an odd feeling to look back at feel the sadness for what had happened. As if it had happened to someone else and he could look back and feel such gut-deep sadness for that kid with that life. But he was going to be able to put it behind him. He knew that now, and if he came unstuck, he had Sage.
It was all going to be okay.
He’d accepted the congratulations of Josh and Anthony, of the boys—now men—who’d written their statements out for the trial. Of the friends who had backed him and watched him and looked after him over the week of the trial. Jack and Robyn had held his hand every step of the way.
But most of all… He closed his eyes and leant closer to Sage. Most of all, he’d had Sage with him and he had taken from her everything she’d given.
It had been so easy and that was the surprise of it. He was himself. Completely himself.
It was so easy now.
Not that there wouldn’t be moments. She’d told him about the sleeping pill but he wasn’t about to judge anyone for anything. He of all people knew that sometimes life sucked, and it had worked out okay.
Right now, though, life was damned near perfect.
“McGraw?” Mrs Parker had a glass of champagne in one hand, and Ruby clutching the other as she came up to them.
She held the glass out to him. “For you. Now you’re lo
vebirds, you won’t mind the germs if you share.”
Ethan took it with a grin as Mrs Parker squinted against the sun. “So when’s the wedding?”
Ethan passed the glass to Sage. “Come on, Mrs P, we’ve only just got engaged. There is no date.”
Mrs Parker arched her eyebrows in disbelief. “Oh, there’s a date alright.” She looked hard at Sage.
Ethan watched as his fiancée took a long- an extraordinarily long-sip of champagne.
She cleared her throat.
He said, “You picked a date? And you didn’t consult the groom?”
“Of course I consulted you. I said, when did you think was a good time, and you said you had no preference, any time was good.”
Ethan acknowledged it with a wry grin. He remembered saying that.
“So,” he said, “when is the date?”
“Maybe June. In England, it’s the traditional month for weddings, although it’s heading into summer over there and winter here. Possibly problematic weather wise, I admit, but our birthdays are both in June, so I think June would be the perfect month.”
“Suits me,” Mrs Parker nodded. “Where will you hold it?”
“Come on,” Ethan began on a laugh. “The date is one thing, the venue—“
He checked Sage warily before he said anything else.
She said, “We haven’t decided on a place yet but it will be small. We both agreed on that. A possibility is Jack’s place. The garden is sheltered if the weather falls apart but we still have the view over the harbour, and it wouldn’t matter if the weather packed up and it was all misty and stormy and uncontrollable. Nature at its most amazing.”
“Sounds romantic,” Mrs Parker muttered.
“Sounds perfect,” Ethan said. “Sage is stormy and uncontrollable and amazing.”
“You forgot misty.” Mrs. Parker seemed to think it through then nodded “But I get the point. Sounds a lot like the both of you if you ask me.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed in suppressed laughter. “And if the party spills out on to the beach, well, you’ve already had your honeymoon practice night, right down there on the sand.”
Sage began to splutter into her glass, Ethan hoped no one knew what she meant, and on a laugh Mrs Parker said, “Come on, Ruby. Let’s go and find some more of those fish puffs you like. You joining us Harry?”
Harriet looked up from her phone and shook her head. “I’m full already.”
Ethan pulled Sage closer and she murmured, “We’re never going to live that beach catastrophe down.”
“Memories. They’re all memories.” He turned to her, slipped his arms around her as she did the same, her head resting against his chest. “So it’s June, huh?”
“Maybe. Just putting it out there.”
“You’re into some traditions. I like that about you.” He nuzzled her neck as she said, on a sigh, “I guess I do. I’m flexible on some things. On others, maybe I need to learn to be more flexible.”
“We’ll figure it out as we go along. That’s what marriage is, according to Jack. The rough times and the disagreements are what make you into a better person. Or something like that. And we’ve got a life time to do it.”
“That is so profound,” she said with approval.
“Mother?” Harry pocketed her phone. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about getting married. I haven’t seen Mum this happy in years and Ethan, I haven’t seen you this happy since I first met you.”
“You’re too young,” he commented, “to plan a wedding and besides. You can’t take the stage from your mother.”
“I’m not planning my wedding but it is sensible to have ideas, just in case, so you don’t have to start from scratch when the times comes. I’ve got heaps of ideas from all Mum’s wedding magazines.”
Wedding magazines?
Ethan looked down at Sage as her face went pink. “You?” he said in disbelief. “You? Have wedding magazines?”
“I may have bought some,” she mumbled.
“Seriously? I can’t believe you’ve succumbed to our 21st century materialistic culture.”
“This is the mother I know and love,” Harry said, “and it’s like she’s become this alien woman who’s actually starting to care about fashion and style and—”
“Settle down, Harriet,” Sage interrupted. “Now you’re talking crazy.”
“I know. But after the wedding, you’ll be back to normal.” She looked at Ethan. “So Ethan. Do I get to call you Dad now?”
“You can call me whatever you like, but Ethan sounds good to me.”
She pondered it. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s better to call you Dad, so I don’t confuse the baby.”
Sage went abruptly pale and her mouth dropped wide open. Ethan felt the same thing happening to himself. He glanced at Harry’s stomach; she wore a loose black T-shirt over black jeans.
With torturous slowness, Sage said, “Are you saying that you are—that you are, pregnant, Harry?”
Harry’s eyes widened. “No! Not me. Jeez, Mother, I mean you two. You and Ethan. You’re still under forty and Ethan’s still in good shape. You are planning to have a baby together right? A little brother or sister for me.” Her eyebrows suddenly shot up. “Maybe twins, like James and Ruby. That would be so cool. Not that you can take my babysitting services for granted and I’m telling you now, I draw the line at nappies and the gross stuff.”
It felt as if the blood had drained even further from Ethan’s body. He checked Sage. She had frozen.
“Oh, come on,” Harry said in exasperation. “Are you telling me you haven’t even thought about a baby? Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to have some champagne while I will leave you two to contemplate the consequence of this lack of action.”
Harry stalked over to the bar, and Ethan knew he should say something parental at her retreating back but his mind was a turmoil.
Sage said slowly, “That’s not something that ever crossed my mind.”
“Mine neither,” Ethan admitted. If the idea had even floated by then he’d blown it away with the force of a hurricane.
“Harry’s got step-brothers on her father’s side,” Sage said. She gave a half laugh. “She doesn’t see them much but they’re there. And, I mean, I’m sure I could still… you know. Get with child.”
Something like possibility was beginning to cover her face and he took a breath at the wonder of it. At the wonder of the thought.
He didn’t need a baby. He didn’t need to pass on his genes or anything antiquated like that. He was complete with Sage. And there were enough children in his life now. Harry, Ruby, James and Eric, and now baby Bella. He doubted he could love any flesh and blood child even more.
“You’re all I need,” he told her. “It’s about you.” It was all about Sage.
“Honestly, I don’t know why Harry said that,” Sage went on as he pulled her close. Her face had returned to that charming shade of embarrassed pink. “It’s humiliating. I’ll have words with her.”
“No.” Ethan rested his chin on her head, closed his eyes. “We don’t know the future and what comes after the wedding. But after that—”
There was a long silence, and finally Sage repeated, “After that?”
He allowed a smile to cross his face. If anyone had said to him a month ago he’d be here, like this, with Sage, talking about this stuff, he would never have entertained the possibility.
“After that,” he said, relishing the moment, a moment as perfect as any could be, “then you and me, we’ll see.” Her hold on him tightened as he closed his eyes and the sound around them seemed to vanish until it was just Sage, his Sage, in his arms.
Life, he grinned, was good.
(The End)
AUTHOR NOTE
A note from Joanne: Hi there, and thanks so much for reading All About Sage – I hope you liked it! If you want to read where Sage and Ethan first meet, read Falling for Jack, the first in the City of Sails series, set in New Zealand. If you enjoyed All
about Sage, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, or goodreads, and please sign up for my newsletter to keep up to date with my books.
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Read on for an excerpt from Charlotte's Wish, a contemporary romance, the first book in the Clearlake County series.
CHARLOTTE’S WISH
CHAPTER ONE
Adam Grainger pulled the tab on the can, set the cold metal to his lips on a sigh and drank the beer in long, smooth gulps. "No one," he remarked, "told me that moving a six-year-old girl could be so–"
"Dramatic?" his brother-in-law suggested.
"That’s one way of putting it." Adam shook his head in disbelief. It had been a drama but in his heart he’d enjoyed it. Every drama-filled second. "How’d she do it? She had me changing the position of that bed enough times I think we covered every single way it could fit in her room twice over. If this is a sign of things to come, I’m screwed." He glanced across the huge lawn and focused on Charlotte, her long black hair in pigtails that threatened to leave the pink bands altogether. She was jumping on the trampoline he’d set up. Correction. He’d set up with the experienced hands of his sister and her husband. Debra and Mike both had plenty of practice in setting up swing sets, dismantling trampolines, erecting basketball hoops – and the rest.
He couldn’t have handled this move without them. It was as simple as that. But then he knew they were thrilled he’d moved down to this part of the state, just as his mother and sisters up in Portland were disappointed he’d moved away.
Adam eased back on to the deck, welcoming the fall breeze on his face. It was cold in the shade and last night had been an early reminder that winter wasn’t too far around the corner.
For now, it was perfect. And he welcomed the serenity around them.
Charlotte suddenly screamed, then laughed, the sound ringing out through the quiet of the Riverdale afternoon.
"She’s got her own preferences, that one," Mike put in. "I’ve never seen a kid that young so fussy."