Encore Worthy: a Mountains & Men prequel novella

by R. C. Martin

  “Thirty? You think I look thirty?”

  “Dammit, doll face, that’s not what I said. You’re being irrational. Let’s just go back into the kitchen, eat some grilled cheese, and talk about this.”

  “Grilled cheese? Is that what’s got you so adamant about staying?” I hurry back to the kitchen, grab the half burnt sandwich, and return to the door. “Here. I’ve fed you. You can go now.”

  “Millicent.” My breath catches in my throat at the way he says my name. For a second, I regret having told him. “You’re being ridiculous. How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-six. I’m older than your anal-retentive big sis. I’m also probably more OCD than she is, by the way. I’m sorry, but you have to go. We can’t do this.” I give him one more shove, forcing him on the other side of the threshold, and then I shut him out.

  “Millie. Millicent! Are you being serious right now?”

  I close my eyes, resting my forehead against the door. Images of Sage and his naked body flood my mind and I can’t stifle the whine that flees from my throat. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye—but fuck! Five years? Worse, twenty-one? He’s a baby!

  A part of me wants to argue that he certainly owned my body like a man, but—

  “Millicent—doll face, come on, let me in.”

  “You need to go, Sage.”

  I hear him huff out a sigh and then take a bite of his burnt sandwich. “I’ll be back, gorgeous,” he says, his mouth full. “You can count on it.”

  Listening to him pad his way down the stairs in his bare feet, I’m not sure whether I feel hope or dread at the prospect of seeing him again. I draw in a deep breath and make my way back to the kitchen. As I begin to make another grilled cheese, a new wave of exhaustion hits. Now, the only thing I want to do is crawl back into bed and hide under the covers for the rest of the day.

  A few minutes later, after I’ve plated my sandwich and filled up a glass of water to take back to my room, Sarah walks in—glowing, of course.

  “Hey,” she practically chirps. I offer her a feeble nod. “So. You and Sage.”

  For reasons I can’t quite explain, my heart sinks hearing his name. “Mm-mm,” I murmur. “We’re not doing this now. We’re not talking about it.” I have no doubt in my mind that Sarah knows how old Sage is, considering they call each other friends. I don’t even want to know what she’s thinking right now. To my relief, she doesn’t push the conversation. When she heads to her room, I make my way to mine, fully prepared to sleep for the rest of the day.

  BY THE TIME I get to my car, I’m halfway done with the grilled cheese sandwich Millie practically threw at me as she shoved me out the door. I hold it in my mouth as I throw my shirt over my head and tuck my feet into my shoes, finishing it as I sit perplexed in the driver’s seat.

  I can’t believe, after the night we had, that she gives two shits about how old I am. I sure as hell don’t care. Our five year age gap is not that big of a deal. If we’re going to talk numbers, she should count the five orgasms I gave her—the five times she called out my name as she came apart at my touch.

  Fuck. This is not over. It can’t be.

  I start my car and back out of the parking space, reluctantly leaving her apartment complex. I should probably stop at the house and shower, but I still smell like her and the thought of washing her away is far from appealing right now. Instead of heading home, I drive straight to Pepper’s. She lives with her husband, Dr. Harold Montgomery, on the south side of town. He gave my big sis a pretty pompous name, but Harry is a cool guy—wicked smart, totally down to earth and laid back, exactly what my sister needs. I wonder if he’ll be working today or if he’ll be around for dinner.

  They’ve just about got a full house now. Their two boys, Henley and Carter, got a sister, Sophia, a few weeks ago. Pepper swears she’s done popping out kids now that Harry has made himself a girl, but I wouldn’t put it past them to have at least one more. Pep is an outstanding mother. She impresses me every day.

  Rosy’s old, red, VW Bug sits parked on the side of the street in front of the house when I arrive. I shake my head as I pull into the space in front of her. That thing really is a piece of shit, but she loves it. She’ll drive it until it leaves her stranded on the side of the road somewhere and I have to pick her ass up. I can’t blame her for hanging onto it. She worked like hell to buy it after she graduated high school. Stubborn determination—that’s something she and I have in common.

  I hear Henley and Carter before I even make it to the front door. I let myself in without knocking and see the two of them running around, their little bare feet clapping against the hardwood floor as they squeal with excitement. I can’t tell if Maestro is chasing them or if they’re chasing Maestro, but they all look happy. They don’t even notice me as I walk inside and find my way to the kitchen. Pepper is standing with her back to me, leaning against the counter as she watches them.

  “You really should get them a dog,” I tell her before pressing a kiss on top of her head.

  She jumps and then turns around to smack me playfully in the middle of my chest. “God, Sage, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She wraps her arms around me and I return her embrace before she pulls away. “And no. They don’t need a dog. They have Maestro.”

  “Maestro is my dog,” I say with a chuckle, looking over at my black, french bulldog as he slides across the floor.

  “And therein lies the beauty. He visits, they play, and then you take him home and take care of him. The last thing I need is someone else to take care of.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.” It’s then that Maestro hears my voice. His head pops up and he barks once before he comes racing toward me. Henley and Carter follow and then catch on to who he’s after when they see me.

  “Uncle Sage!” cries Henley.

  “Unka Sage!” mimics Carter. At two, he’s still struggling to get his l’s out. Even I have to admit, it’s pretty damn cute.

  I drop to my knees to greet all three of them. “Hey, guys, what’s happenin’?”

  Henley speaks first, giving me the rundown of just about everything that his four-year-old brain can remember since I last saw him yesterday afternoon. I pet Maestro absentmindedly as I listen. It’s not hard to admit, my nephews are a couple of my favorite people.

  “Where’s Sophia?” I ask them.

  Carter’s eyes grow big as he brings a finger to his mouth and shushes me. “Aunt Wose has Sophia.”

  Pepper chuckles from behind me and I look up at her with a grin. “She’s in the living room. Good luck prying Sophia away from her.”

  I give her my best oh, please expression as I stand and head into the next room. Pepper has done a damn fine job of making their house extra homey, and the living room is everyone’s favorite place to chill. Rosy is being swallowed by one of their big, over-stuffed, brown armchairs. She’s got a textbook open in her lap and Sophia is nestled in her arms. Guessing by the small smile that lights her face, I’d say she’s not getting very much studying done. She looks up when she hears me approach.

  “Hey, big bro. When did you get here?” she asks before puckering her lips.

  I lean down and she kisses my cheek. “Just got here,” I murmur, admiring my niece. She’s sleeping, as if she knows the raucous her brothers are making is her reality and there’s nothing she can do about it. Rosy sniffs and I jerk my head back to look at her.

  “You smell like a bar. And sex. And—” She sniffs once more. “Vanilla.”

  “How the fuck do you know what sex smells like?” I ask, scowling at her.

  She returns my scowl with one of her own before she smacks her little hand against the top of my head. “Language, Sage!”

  “Answer my question, Rosemary.”

  She rolls her eyes, which makes me think of Millie, and then she speaks. “I’ve smelled it on you and the guys enough to know, dummy.”

  I look into her eyes for a moment, searching for the reassurance that that’s the only reason she kn
ows. I nod when I’m sure she’s telling the truth.

  “You’re such a hypocrite.”

  “Wrong. I’m the guy any douche has to get through before he’s allowed between my sister’s legs.”

  She groans, lifting Sophia away from her and towards me. “You’re the biggest pain in my a-s-s. Here. Take your niece.” Before I can reach for her, Rosy changes her mind, hugs Sophia close, kisses her cheek, and whispers, “You’re so screwed, baby girl. With your dad, and your brothers, and your uncle—you’ll never get laid. Don’t worry, though. You’ve got me, too.” She kisses Sophia’s soft, chubby cheek once more. “And ignore the smell. Uncle Sage is the best, I promise.”

  I playfully rub my knuckles against the top of Rosy’s head and she ducks away from me before I gently scoop Sophia into my arms and make my way to the couch. Pepper catches my eye as she enters the room and shakes her head in disbelief. I chuckle, amused that she’s surprised.

  The three of us are pretty close, always have been. Granted, it didn’t always look that way, what with all our bickering and arguing growing up, but we wouldn’t trade each other for anything. That said, Rosy and I have always been really tight. Besides the fact that we’re closer in age, Pepper was out of the house and married by the time I was sixteen. Pep is the sensible, wise, motherly one—she’s our rock; but Rosy is my best friend, and I hers.

  That is, when I’m not trying to keep guys out of her pants.

  It’s a fucking hard job to do, but someone’s got to do it.

  “So, who was the unlucky lady who had the misfortune of waking up after being ditched by the likes of you?” Rosy asks as I stretch out on the couch with Sophia.

  I let out a long sigh, gazing down at the sweet little girl bundled in pink against my chest, and then mentally replay my morning. I remember the way it felt to hold Millie in my arms; how she wrapped herself around me when I kissed her; the sound of my name on her lips . . .

  I’m yanked from my thoughts when I look down and see Pepper pulling my shoes from my feet. “I can only imagine where these things have been; they do not need to be on my couch,” she tells me before she sits and drops my feet into her lap. “Also, judging by the look on your face, Rosemary’s question requires an answer. What groupie has your head so foggy the afternoon after?”

  “Not a groupie, sis. Not even close.” I free another sigh, propping my head against the back of the couch. “God—she was amazing. I have to see her again.”

  “What?” gasps Rosy, tossing her textbook onto the floor as she curls her legs up underneath her. “Now I’ve got to know! What’s her name? What does she look like? Did you get her number? Are you going to call her? You hardly ever call!” She gasps again, cutting me off before I can even utter a single syllable. “Is she why you didn’t answer Pepper’s call? Were you still with her when you told Pep you were busy? Is that why you still smell like last night in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “Jesus, Rosy—take a breath!”

  Pepper pinches my ankle and I jerk my foot out of reach with a frown. “Language,” she mutters.

  “Sorry,” I grumble.

  “Do you not remember how long it took me to get Henley to stop saying s-h-i-t every other minute? That was totally your fault.”

  I chuckle and she smacks my leg. “Alright, alright, stop with the abuse.”

  “Stop stalling!” Rosy insists. “I want to know about this girl. She came to your show, right? Is she going to be at the next one? Can I meet her?”

  I sit silently as I stare at her, a blank expression on my face, waiting for her to stop. “Are you done?” She gestures with her hand that she’s zipping her mouth closed, and I wait another second before I continue. “Her name is Millicent.”

  “Millicent?” Rosy scrunches her nose. “She sounds . . . interesting.”

  I shake my head at her, irritated that she’s already formed a negative opinion about Millie based solely off of her name. “Yeah, interesting. She’s interesting. You guessed it. Nothing left to tell.”

  “What?! No! I didn’t—” She stops stuttering when Pepper starts laughing. “What’s funny?” she pouts, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Nothing,” Pepper says with a smile. She turns to look at me as she continues. “She knocked you on your a-s-s. I can tell. I’ve never seen you shut down over a girl so fast in my life.”

  I shrug, sure there’s no reason to deny it. Truth is, she doesn’t know the half of it.

  “No,” Rosy whines, jumping out of the chair as she crawls across the floor to kneel beside me. “I’m sorry I got judgy. Millicent—that’s a—it’s a very pretty name.” I arch an eyebrow at her and she huffs out a sigh. “Okay. So it makes me think of an old lady who works at a library and is constantly telling everyone to be quiet, I can’t help it! I’m sure anyone who could knock you on your a-s-s is far more interesting than that. Please? Tell us everything.”

  Knowing that I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut if Rosy keeps begging, I concede. “I met her last night at The Brew Cycle. She’s—she’s got these eyes. And her lips—even her nose . . . she’s gorgeous; flawless, like one of those glass dolls mom collects?” I cough out a laugh, remembering when she asked me what her name was out on that dance floor. “Her mouth, god—”

  “Okay, don’t get gross,” Pepper interrupts.

  “No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean, yeah,” I say with a smirk. “But it’s more than that. She’s such a smart-aaaa—a-s-s. She’s different. She didn’t watch me perform and then go on and on about the band and how good she thought we were. She didn’t throw herself at me or anything like that. Definitely not a groupie.”

  “So, what happened? Did you ask her out?”

  “Well,” I begin to say, reaching up to run my fingers through my messy hair. “Not exactly. She didn’t really give me a chance before she kicked me out of her apartment.”

  “She kicked you out?” Rosy asks, her eyes wide with shock.

  “She freaked when she found out I was only twenty-one.”

  “Only? How old is she? Did you bag a cougar?”

  I furrow my brow at my baby sister, then shake my head once. “Rosy—don’t talk like that. And no, I didn’t. She’s only twenty-six.”

  “That’s not so bad,” Pepper says with a shrug.

  “Yes! Thank you. My thoughts exactly.”

  “Then again, I married a man seven years older than me. My opinion is a bit bias.”

  “Okay, yeah, my opinion is a bit bias, too—obviously, because you’re my big bro, but honestly? She just doesn’t know you,” says Rosy, resting her hand over mine. “It doesn’t take long for anyone to figure out that you’re not the average twenty-one year old male. Sure, you can get a little wild—but you’re also really driven, goal oriented, smart, and responsible. Mountains & Men wouldn’t be half of what it is and what it’s going to be without you.”

  “Thanks for the highlight reel of my resume,” I tease.

  “Hey, I’m serious,” she says with a little laugh. “If she’s really worth it, you just have to make her see how great you are. If she’s worth it. Maybe take into consideration she spread her legs for you already,” she tacks on softly.

  “Don’t talk about her that way,” I reply, feeling surprisingly defensive. “She’s worth it.”

  “There you go again,” Rosy huffs. “Hyp-o-crite. But fine—I’ll take your word for it.”

  “She’s different, Rosy,” I say, ignoring her dig. “I can’t explain it, I just—” I try and find the words, any words that won’t make me sound like such a fucking pansy. Then I remember—“The second I met her, I had these lyrics in my head. When I walked away from her, I heard the melody—it happened so fast.”

  “A muse,” hums Pepper.

  I nod, but I don’t tell them that I think she’s more than that. I don’t tell them that I had this undeniable urge to sing to her the moment I was inside of her. I don’t tell them how badly I wish I could call her right now. Instead
, I close my eyes and sigh before I assure them, “I’m definitely going to see her again.”

  “Well, I’ll be d-a-m-n-e-d. My big bro is falling for a girl.”

  A smirk curls at my lips but I don’t open my eyes or confirm her statement. “Right now, your big bro is going to fall asleep. Wake me when it’s time to eat.”

  “I’m sure Sophia will wake you when she’s ready to eat.”

  “Fair enough,” I say, holding her closer. “Now leave us be. We’re bonding.”

  “DWEEB, WE’RE GOING out after JJ gets home from work; you comin’?” asks Derrick, plopping down on the couch beside me. Maestro follows him into the room and paws at my legs. With one arm, I scoop him up and he circles my lap a couple times before laying down between my legs, his head propped on my thigh.

  I look away from my phone, still unsure whether or not I want to call. Again.

  It’s been two days since Millie kicked me out of her apartment. The first time I called, it was Sunday night after I left Pepper’s place. She answered, but I soon found out it was only because she didn’t recognize my number. The conversation didn’t last long. When I called her yesterday, she ignored me. Today, I’ll admit it—I’m going fucking crazy.

  I haven’t been able to finish her song. I don’t know how to end it. The last verse has been eluding me, as if it knows that our story isn’t over—that Millie and I don’t end after one night. I have to see her again. I’m dying to taste her, to feel her come apart beneath me, to hear my name on her lips as she shatters.

  “Sage, seriously?” mutters Derrick, elbowing my ribs to get my attention. “Since when has a little pussy left you so distracted? It was one night, dude. Come out with us. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

  The thought of bagging another girl has never felt so unappealing. If I needed any more confirmation that I’m on the verge of losing my mind, that was it. “I need to get her out of my system. One night wasn’t enough. I just need—I need more.”