More Than Cookies (The Maple Leaf Series)

by Christine DePetrillo

  She considered Scott for a minute, but she wasn’t going to use him. She hadn’t sunk to that level. What she had to do was get rid of Scott. Go after Orion. Explain. Get back to him carrying her down the hallway to her bedroom. Get to what happens next.

  “Scott,” she started, “thanks for all the flowers, but—”

  “No. Not a but.” Scott put the newest bouquet on her coffee table and sat on the edge of it. A one-of-a-kind table Rick had made for her mother years ago, but Joy had insisted she take to her new place.

  “Look.” She put a hand on his knee which she immediately realized was the wrong thing to do when he rested his hand atop hers. “I’m pretty sure I’ve met someone else, so you should send beautiful flowers to someone who can be one hundred percent yours. I’m not that person.”

  She slid her hand off his knee and took a deep breath while a medley of emotions swirled on Scott’s face.

  “You’d like me to stop with the flowers?” he asked.

  “I would. Again, they’re beautiful, but you’re wasting your money on me, Scott.” She looked at him now. “I’m sure there’s someone out there dying to receive flowers from you.”

  “Like you’re dying for that plumber-that-is-not-a-plumber to come back?”

  Sage stood now. “I’m sorry, Scott. I met him and it was as if someone flicked a switch in me. You ever experience that?”

  “Maybe.” His gaze lingered on her longer than necessary. “But the feeling wasn’t mutual.” He stood and walked right out the still open door.

  Sage stared after him, wondering how she’d ended up alone again.

  “Nope,” she said, grabbing her car keys. “Not this time.” She wasn’t going to let something amazing get away.

  Orion was definitely something amazing.

  ****

  By the time Orion reached his house, his leg was on fire and it felt… wet. He wasn’t sure if he was madder at reopening the wound walking through the woods or at Sage playing with him.

  You’re such an idiot.

  Of course a woman like her would have tons of men falling at her feet. Why in the world had he thought she was available? Or honest? Women were born to fuck with men’s minds. Ian had told him that repeatedly, and still Orion hadn’t learned that simple truth. Why was he such a goddamn sucker?

  She helped me though.

  Why would Sage do that? To reel him in? To create a false sense of genuine interest in him? Was it all part of her Master Plan to screw him over?

  Hell, he didn’t want to think about these questions or their answers. Instead he wanted to tend to his injury then head to the workshop to hack away at some wood. Nothing but the buzz of his chainsaw and the scent of fresh pine. Hopefully that would scrub Sage from his mind… and his penis’s mind… and maybe his heart’s mind too.

  Slowly, he climbed the back porch steps, let himself into the house, and slid off his shoes.

  “Dad? Wendie?” When they didn’t answer, he searched rooms until he found a note held in place by a Bugs Bunny magnet on the refrigerator.

  Orion,

  Took Ian over to my place. Adam’s coming for dinner. We’ll have ourselves a little party. I’ll keep your father for as long as I can. Planning a checker tournament to distract him. Maybe you can have yourself a little fun. You deserve it.

  J Wendie

  Fun? What was that? The concept was foreign to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had fun.

  Not true.

  He’d had fun about twenty minutes ago kissing and almost shagging Sage. Having her body in his arms, pressed up against him had jumpstarted his dead parts. Her lips had been so soft, so delicious… so… so…

  Deadly.

  She was like one of those animals that lure prey in by displaying incredible beauty then attacking the dazzled victim with a venom-filled bite. And he’d been bitten. Big time.

  Growling, he threw away Wendie’s note, cracked open a beer from his own refrigerator, took a gulp, and made his way to the bathroom. He yanked his pants down, just now noticing the blood that had seeped onto the khakis. Wonderful. As if he had nice pants to spare.

  He pulled the pants all the way off and brought his right foot up to rest on the closed toilet seat. Carefully, he peeled away the bandage covering the wound. Fresh blood seeped from the stapled line.

  “Dammit.”

  He cleaned the injury and applied a new bandage, all the while cursing pretty much everything about his life. His failed marriage. Lost daughter. Needy father. Bullet hole in his leg. Rug pulled out from beneath him by a woman.

  Again.

  “Well, this isn’t productive,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sighing, he splashed some water on his face and wiped it off with a towel. In his bedroom, he pulled on a pair of cargo shorts—that was more like it—and an old Iron Maiden T-shirt that was reasonably unstained. The angry, skeletal grin on the band’s mascot, Eddie, fit his mood perfectly.

  Back in the kitchen, he took a few more gulps of beer until the bottle was empty then sat to put on his boots. He already felt better in his work clothes. Wearing khakis and a nice shirt had made him act like a civilized moron. Better to stick to the rough-and-tumble gear so at least when he got kicked in the ass he’d be ready.

  When he was halfway between his house and the workshop, Sage and her pumpkin car pulled up. She hopped out before he’d had a chance to swear.

  “Excuse me,” she said, her voice all levels of bitchy. “I didn’t peg you as an escape artist.”

  “What?” A few more steps and he’d be in the workshop, but she was stomping along behind him.

  “At my house. You did a lovely vanishing act.” She didn’t take him not holding the workshop door open for her as a sign she was not invited inside. Instead, she barged right in, anger rolling off her in waves. As if she had any right to be mad. Or to still look fucking fantastic in that blue dress. Even pissed as hell, she was breathtaking. All fiery with flashy green eyes. All overheated with pink cheeks. All stomping feet as she followed him.

  “I didn’t want to get in your way.” He turned on the old radio he had on a shelf above his work bench. Korn. Perfect. Only it wasn’t one of their more rockish songs.

  I’ll never love again. I won’t ever have to pretend. I’m never gonna love again…

  Well, okay. That worked too.

  Sage flicked it off before Orion could pick up the rest of the lyrics that had evidently been written as a reminder to him.

  “That’s funny,” she said. “I don’t recall saying you were in my way, Orion.” Her hands went to her hips in that way women do when they clearly think you’re sub-human and incapable of understanding the simplest of concepts.

  “I certainly felt in the way. I mean, how many other men do you have following you around like lost puppies?”

  Sage recoiled, and he felt bad for a moment. Men following her around probably wasn’t something she could control. Look at how quickly he’d been ready to hop into line behind the others. He’d tossed all sense of reason out the window and had basically been caught with his tail wagging at her.

  “I told you about Scott. Remember? One date. That’s all we had, and we didn’t have a connection. He is the one who is wrong here. Not me. I was clear. I haven’t been asking him to send me flowers. I didn’t request that he text me, and I certainly didn’t give him my new address and say ‘Stop on by.’” She ran her hands through her hair. That long, silky mane of shimmering blonde. “I did, however, invite you to stop on by.” She had come close enough to poke a slender index finger into his chest.

  That tiny contact made him want her all over again. Jesus. How could she have that much power over him?

  Resist. He had to get her out of here. Backing up a few steps so she no longer touched him, he plugged his ears and bent to grab a chainsaw.

  “If you turn that on,” she said, “I’m leaving and not coming back.”

  He motioned to his ears indicating that he couldn’t h
ear her, though he could. He totally heard her. She should leave and never come back. Absolutely. It was what he wanted.

  Only it wasn’t.

  Sizing up the stump before him, he jerked the cord on his chainsaw and the machine roared to life. When he touched the blade to the wood and chips flew, Sage spun around on her heel and stalked out of the workshop. He should have been pleased by her successful removal, but he felt hollow instead. This was why he should focus on work, taking care of his father, and getting Myah back. That was all he could handle. Adding Sage to the mix only complicated things, and he hated complicated.

  Yep. Hated it.

  So why was it he turned off the chainsaw, pulled out his earplugs, and jogged outside the workshop?

  “Sage!” he yelled.

  She turned back before reaching her car, folded her arms across her chest, and narrowed her green eyes at him. “What?”

  “I’m sorry.” He hadn’t expected those words to spill out of him, but there they were, flying through the air from his mouth to her ears.

  She let her arms drop to her sides and her eyes softened. Just a little. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?”

  Orion nodded and rubbed at his bearded chin. “But I don’t expect women to tell me the truth.”

  “Well, I don’t lie.” She’d wandered over to where he stood. “You can trust some women in this world, Orion. I’m one of them.”

  She gathered a fistful of his T-shirt and pulled so his lips were level with hers. It only took him a millisecond to register how much he wanted her. How much he wanted to see every piece of her. How much he needed to be inside her.

  “Scott is history. That was over before it even started,” she whispered. “I am not with anyone, but I’d like to start something with you.”

  She brushed her lips over his, and God help him, he believed her. He totally believed her.

  Chapter Eleven

  They kissed all the way up the porch steps, through the back door, the dining room, the living room, down the hallway, and into what Sage assumed was Orion’s bedroom. She was surprised by the king-sized sleigh bed covered in a poofy blue comforter, sporting a silver embroidered vine design. Several layers of pillows in varying sizes populated the head of the bed, and blue curtains hung in a complicated twist over the two windows in the room. An armoire that matched the dark wood of the sleigh bed was against the wall between the windows, its doors slightly ajar to show a television inside. On another wall, a shorter chest of drawers sat below a mirror with a rustic, wooden frame Sage would bet money Orion had carved himself.

  He gave her a minute to examine her surroundings, but the sexual tension in the air, the degree to which she wanted him, was like an additional person in the room. Living, breathing, demanding.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and backed herself onto her elbows. “Come here.” She beckoned him with her index finger and he took a step toward her.

  When he put a knee to either side of her and slid his hands along her thighs, slowly hiking her dress higher, his palms rough against her skin, she didn’t think she could wait another moment to give herself to him. She didn’t want to wait another moment. She wanted to kiss him everywhere.

  Grabbing the end of his T-shirt, she peeled it over his head. His chest was a work of art, plenty of chiseled muscles for her hands and lips to explore. She leaned toward him to do just that, but the phone rang from his nightstand and ended all movement.

  “Shit.” Orion sat back so his spectacular, wish-he-were-naked ass rested lightly on her thighs. “I have to get that. It could be my father.”

  “I understand,” Sage said, taking a quick moment to run her tongue across his left nipple.

  His entire body shuddered. “Oh, my God. Sage Stannard, you are wonderful.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek and slid off the bed to get the phone. “Hello?” He paused to listen, but his blue gaze roamed over Sage.

  She honestly couldn’t take her eyes off him either, standing there, his chest all exposed, his cargo shorts riding low on his hips, his hair a bit mussed from her removal of his T-shirt. He was a sexy centerfold for an imaginary magazine Sage decided to call Fuckable Lumberjacks. She’d never seen anyone so artistically assembled. From his jet-black hair to his sky-blue eyes to his muscled body to everything else about him, Orion Finley was perfect.

  “No, no, that’s okay,” she heard Orion say once she got a handle—barely a handle—on her hormones. “See you in a few.”

  He hung up the phone then stood before Sage again.

  “Climb aboard,” she said, not willing to waste any more time. She needed to have him right now.

  “About that…” he began, “Wendie is bringing my dad back. Her cat scared him and he won’t settle down. Adam can’t settle him either.”

  “How much time do we have?” Not that she wanted to rush this, but the thought of not having sex with Orion tonight made openly weeping a definite possibility.

  “Not enough to do this right.” He rested his hands on either side of her now as she sat up. “And I want to do this right. I want the full experience for both of us. We deserve that much, don’t you think?”

  She thought about that for a moment, making Orion chuckle. The deep, husky sound of his laugh sent a tingle through her, and she glanced at the doorknob on his bedroom door.

  He followed her gaze. “Yes, it locks, but I plan on making you scream my name, Sage. Again and again. A locked door won’t help us.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “Don’t pout. There will be a next time.”

  “Can’t we run over to my house?” Yes, that sounded like a great plan to her ears and the rest of her body. She didn’t care if she sounded like she was begging.

  “We could, but my dad needs me to get him calmed down.”

  “Right. Of course. I’m being a selfish jerk.” She stood and straightened her dress. Standing before the mirror in Orion’s bedroom, she raked her fingers through her hair and convinced herself she didn’t look like a sex-starved psycho.

  Orion came to stand behind her, his T-shirt in one hand, his other hand coming around her waist. He rested his hand on her stomach and pressed her against him where she instantly realized she wasn’t the only over-stimulated person in the room.

  Rubbing his arousal slowly against her backside until she lowered her head back to rest it on his shoulder, he whispered, “That’s waiting for you, Sage.”

  She nearly melted against him. She’d had many guys talk dirty to her, but those few words, so simply stated, turned her insides to magma. She swiveled in his grasp, rested her hands on his cheeks, and gave him the deepest kiss she’d ever given anyone.

  When she broke contact, Orion stumbled back a few steps. “Extraordinary.”

  “Right back at ya, stud.”

  He grinned and said, “Stay.”

  Sage nodded. “Want me to run back to my place and get the dinner I was going to make for us? There’s enough for everyone.”

  “Okay, but hurry back.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair, dropping kisses along the rim of her ear until tires crunched on the gravel out front.

  She pushed on his shoulders. “You’d better stop or they’re going to know we’ve been pawing each other.”

  “Too hard to stop,” he said as his tongue teased her earlobe.

  A hum vibrated in her own throat, but she extracted herself from his grip. “They’ll be at the door any minute.”

  With a short growl, Orion put his T-shirt back on and grabbed her hand. He led her into the kitchen just as the back door opened. Instantly Ian’s voice filled the room.

  “He scratched me! He’s a devil cat!”

  “He is not, Ian. Calm down,” Wendie said as she stepped in behind him.

  “He kind of is,” Adam said as he closed the door. “Remember when you first got him and he climbed up my leg only to sink his teeth into my belt? Normal cats don’t do that.”

  “Maybe he thought your leg was a tree,” Wendie said through clenched teeth. “And
you’re not helping me here.”

  “Orion!” Ian ran toward his son, skidding to a halt in front of him. He wrung his hands repeatedly as he spoke. “Wendie has a devil cat.”

  “Not possible,” Sage said.

  Ian shot his gaze to her, his eyebrows low, his mouth in a firm line. “He scratched me.” He thrust his arm out at her and pointed to an angry red line on his forearm. “See? Three and five-eighths inches. It hurts.”

  Sage cradled Ian’s arm in her hands and inspected the scratch. “Cats scratch in defense.” She looked up at him. “Perhaps the cat was afraid of you, Ian.”

  “Afraid of me?” His eyebrows furrowed.

  “Sure. Think about it. You’re much bigger than a cat. You make a lot of noise.” She angled her head at him. “If I were a little kitty, I’d think you were Godzilla.”

  Ian let out a deep belly laugh, and Sage heard Orion laugh too.

  “Maybe you’re right, Sage,” Ian said. “I’ll be quiet and gentle next time. Okay, Wendie?”

  “I’m sure Frisco will appreciate that.” Wendie looked at Orion and pointed at Sage. “She’s good, buddy. Real good.”

  “I’m beginning to see that,” Orion said.

  “Uh-oh.” Adam shook his head. “Somebody’s breaking his own rules.”

  “Shut up,” Orion said. “They’re my rules, so I’m allowed to break them.”

  “What rules?” Sage asked Orion.

  “The no more women or relationships rules,” Adam answered instead.

  “I’m warning you, Adam.” Orion waved a fist at his friend. “Shut up.”

  Adam held up his hands then looked at Sage. “I’ll text you the complete rule book later. It’s extensive. Full of things I mostly agree with.” He grabbed a beer out of Orion’s refrigerator. “Okay, Wendie, I was promised dinner.”

  “Actually,” Sage said, “I’ve got that covered. I’ll be right back.”

  She made a move to kiss Orion but stopped, figuring one of his rules probably had something to do with public displays of affection. He looked like the type to be anti-PDA to her. She settled for a wink then looked at Ian. “Why don’t you help Wendie set the table? I want a seat right next to you, okay?”