Moonlight Kisses

by Phyllis Bourne

  Both Cole and Sage smiled, while Riley snorted. “That’s no great culinary loss,” she said. “Even before Dad died and you took over Sinclair Construction, anything you cooked came frozen on a plastic tray and accompanied by the beep of the microwave.”

  Janet shot her daughter a faux dirty look, which collapsed into laughter. “True,” she admitted.

  The older woman turned her attention to Sage. “We already know how Cole ended up in the cosmetics game,” she said. “How about you? What prompted you to get in the beauty business?”

  “My mother,” Sage answered.

  In her peripheral vision she could see Cole put down his fork and turn to her.

  “Mom worked at a department-store makeup counter,” she continued. “As a single parent, she simply couldn’t afford to get me the dolls, games and toys kids all want. So she’d bring home samples of gorgeous lipsticks, blushes and eye shadow for me to play with and somehow managed to turn makeup into my absolute favorite game.”

  Janet nodded approvingly. “Your mother must be very proud of your accomplishments.”

  “I’d like think she is,” Sage said. “She died when I was eleven, and I grew up in foster care.”

  “Oh, dear,” the older woman said. “I’m sorry.”

  Sage nodded. She was facing Janet and Riley; however, her next words were meant for Cole more so than his family. “I do what I do to honor her memory, which makes Stiletto more than just a business to me. It’s more than just my dream. It was my mother’s dream for me.”

  She turned to Cole. More than merely their gazes connected. It made her feel closer to him in that moment than they had been in bed.

  “So what made you decide to set up a cosmetics company in Nashville of all places instead of New York?” Riley asked.

  The connection broken, Sage blinked and focused on Cole’s cousin’s question. “The internet makes it possible for me to anchor my business wherever I want, so I decided to stay in my hometown. I like it here, plus I can plow more money into the business because I don’t have the overhead of maintaining a pricey Manhattan address.”

  Cole chimed in. “My mother often said it gave her the first pick of Tennessee State’s and Fisk’s new graduates.”

  “That, too,” Sage said. “My advertising manager, Joe Archer, is a Fisk graduate, and I’m a Tennessee State alumnus.”

  “So is Mom,” Riley said.

  Janet nodded. “I earned my teaching degree at TSU, but that was way before your time.”

  “Sage’s undergrad degree is in chemistry, and she also has an MBA,” Cole said. Sage could hear the note of pride in his voice.

  It made her feel good.

  Janet and her daughter exchanged glances.

  “Oh, I picked up dessert at the grocery store, too,” Cole’s aunt said. “Anyone up for apple pie?”

  “Of course, you know it’s my absolute favorite, Aunt Janet.”

  He touched Sage’s hand under the table, a question in his eyes.

  She nodded and smiled at him. “It’s my absolute favorite dessert, too.”

  Sage wasn’t sure how long they sat staring at each other, goofy grins pasted on their faces. Janet cleared her throat, and Sage abruptly snatched her hand back. The cutlery clanked against the plates as her hand hit the underside of the table.

  “Sage, honey, I was wondering if you would help me clear the table and give me a hand in the kitchen with coffee and dessert,” Janet said. “Riley, I believe you had something to talk over with Cole.”

  “Um, sure.” Sage rose from the table and began gathering plates and silverware.

  Cole’s cousin launched into a conversation about blueprints and Espresso’s building as Sage followed Janet into the kitchen. She figured the older woman wanted to get the competition out of earshot so the two cousins could talk business.

  Once they were in the kitchen, Sage began the task of scraping the plates over the trash can so she could load them into the dishwasher. Janet stopped her. “Leave it—my housekeeper will take care of it when he arrives in the morning.”

  Cole’s aunt gestured toward a padded bar stool in front of the huge granite-topped kitchen island. The apple pie was already atop the island along with four dessert plates “Have a seat.” Janet retrieved a knife. “You can slice the pie while I make coffee.”

  It was now apparent to Sage that the older woman’s underlying purpose hadn’t been to get her out of the dining room so Cole and Riley could discuss the Espresso building. Sage slid off the bar stool, washed her hands at the double sink and dried them with a paper towel.

  Returning to the kitchen island, she picked up the knife and cut into the pie. “So exactly what do you want to talk to me about, ma’am?”

  “You’re direct,” Cole’s aunt said.

  “I try to be,” Sage said.

  “Good for you. I see why my nephew’s so taken with you.”

  Sage sighed. The older woman was jumping to all the wrong conclusions, but after she’d seen her and Cole steaming up the car windows, it wouldn’t be easy to dissuade her.

  Janet filled a carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker. “Cole’s always so serious. Ever since he was a boy,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile as much as I have tonight, and you’re the reason.”

  Sage kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t as if she could explain that being sexed up for nearly twenty-four hours was the real reason behind her nephew’s smile.

  “I’m not one for interfering in my girls’ or Cole’s lives, but the last time he was hurt, he took a job out of the country. Both he and his sisters were tight-lipped about it. He didn’t even confide in Riley, but I do know he was heartbroken.” Cole’s aunt added a scoopful of coffee to the coffeemaker and switched it on. She pulled mugs from a cherrywood cabinet. “I love my nephew, and I like having him back in town.”

  “Look, Mrs. Sinclair, I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this, but you’ve got it all wrong. Cole and I are not a couple.”

  The older woman faced Sage, a skeptical expression on her face. “As a mother of three who’s been in business for nearly twenty years, frankly, that doesn’t pass my internal bullshit detector.”

  Cole’s aunt took advantage of Sage’s surprise at her language and continued.

  “I’m not blind. I saw the way he looks at you. I also see the way you look at him. I don’t care what you two are calling your relationship, all I’m asking is you keep that smile on my nephew’s face. I like having Cole in town, and I like seeing him happy.”

  Sage knew it was futile trying to convince the woman there was no relationship. Whatever she and Cole had this weekend would end the moment they each arrived at work tomorrow morning.

  * * *

  “You okay?”

  Seated in Cole’s car, they asked the question simultaneously.

  Their moods had shifted over dessert. While they both continued to nod, speak or laugh at the appropriate times, Cole had noticed Sage seemed distracted. So was he.

  The short discussion with his cousin about the Espresso building had put a lot on his mind. He and his sisters had pretty much decided to sell it. Although the three of them could easily overrule Victor’s vote in the matter, they’d been trying to give him time to adjust to the idea.

  Now Cole wasn’t so sure selling it was the answer. Riley’s alternative plan had intrigued him.

  Waving out the window at his aunt and cousin, Cole backed the Challenger out of his aunt’s driveway. He spared a glance at the passenger seat as he pressed the button to close the window.

  “I hope Aunt Janet didn’t grill you too badly while you two were in the kitchen.”

  “Not at all,” Sage said. “However, I did spend most of the time trying to convince her we aren’t together. I don’t
think she believes me.”

  Because maybe we should be together, Cole thought. And this was the perfect opening to say so.

  “She missed me while I was away and has been a touch overprotective since my return,” he said aloud. Inwardly, he kicked himself for blowing an opportunity to tell her he wished this weekend could be more than just a one-time occurrence.

  Cole wanted it to be a beginning.

  “She says you left Nashville over a broken heart,” Sage said.

  Cole’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he steered the car through the quiet residential streets leading to the expressway. Sage was unwittingly inching toward a matter he didn’t discuss, with anyone.

  “I guess you could say that,” he said finally. That much was true. He had been heartbroken. “However, it had nothing to do with a romantic relationship.”

  His body remained tense as he braced himself for her to press the issue. In his experience, women rarely took things at face value. They had to delve into and explore every emotion, instead of just letting it be.

  “Anyway, I think both your aunt and your cousin are great.”

  Instead of relentless questions, Sage had changed the subject. It was all Cole could do not to pull the car to the side of the road and kiss her. Tension ebbed away from his shoulders as he merged onto the expressway.

  “I envy you for having a family that cares so much about you,” she continued.

  Cole heard the hint of wistfulness in her tone. Without stopping to think about it, he reached across the console separating the car’s bucket seats for her hand.

  “I do consider myself fortunate to have them.” He’d gleaned from interviews he’d read about Sage that she had spent the majority of her childhood in foster care. “However, it doesn’t keep me from sometimes feeling like I’m on the outside looking in.”

  He could feel her gaze on him as he drove.

  “But, why?” she asked.

  “Riley and my cousins lost their father, but still have Aunt Janet. My sisters and I lost our mother, but they still have my stepfather, Victor,” Cole said. He released her hand, so he could signal before changing lanes. “Being the one with no parents makes me feel like the odd orphan out at times. If that makes any sense.”

  Cole had never admitted it aloud before. At thirty-four years old, he probably shouldn’t give it a thought. However, occasionally it made him feel incredibly alone. His mother was gone, and all he’d had to know his father ever existed were old photos and the worn Timex he’d worn on his wrist.

  Cole felt Sage’s hand on his thigh. Its warmth penetrated the fabric of his wool pants, the gesture touching him deeper than words.

  It also made him sad the weekend was rapidly coming to an end.

  All too soon, Cole turned into Sage’s driveway and parked behind her red Challenger. He didn’t shut off the car engine and was relieved when she didn’t immediately jump out of the car.

  Her sigh filled the car’s silent cabin. “As badly as I want to invite you in for the night, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said. “It’ll only make it that much harder to put an end to this in the morning.”

  It was hard now, he thought. Cole couldn’t explain it to her. Hell, he couldn’t explain it to himself. All he knew was he wanted to see more of her—both in and out of the bedroom.

  “I have something I want you to think over,” Cole said.

  “Another offer?” She stared out the windshield.

  He chuckled lightly, feeling more nervous than he had the day he asked the homecoming queen to the prom. “Something like that,” he said. “I have a trip scheduled and will be leaving later this week. However, while I’m gone, I’d like you to think about us going out on a date when I return.”

  “B-but...” she began.

  However, Cole wasn’t done. Reaching across the console, he used his finger to turn her head until she faced him. “Believe me, I know as well as you do all the reasons we shouldn’t,” he said. “Still, I want to take you on a real date. Hold your hand in a movie. Buy you a milkshake and the biggest burger in town. Or cook dinner for you at my place and afterward make love to you in my bed.”

  The dim light of the car’s controls softly illuminated her face. A face he hoped to see more of when he returned from Milan.

  “All I need you to do tonight is promise you’ll think about it,” he said finally.

  Sage nodded. “I promise.”

  A promise Cole hoped would lead to the opportunity for him to win her heart.

  Chapter 13

  After their sabotaged Valentine’s Day event, Sage hadn’t expected the positive updates coming from her team at Monday morning’s staff meeting.

  She should have been overjoyed. Instead, she stifled a yawn.

  “So while Espresso’s horning in on us might have ended our event sooner than we would have liked, social media–wise, it was a success.”

  While Stiletto’s social media manager droned on in the background, Sage reached for one of the two thermal carafes on the conference room table. She poured herself a second mug of black coffee and took a generous gulp.

  It wouldn’t replace the sleep she’d missed the night before, tossing, turning and longing for Cole. However, Sage hoped a caffeine jolt would give her enough energy to get through the remainder of the morning along with a dose of much-needed focus.

  “Our invitees had no idea our party was being upstaged by Espresso. From their social media posts, it appears everyone believed it was a joint event,” the social media head said.

  Sage forced herself to concentrate as the woman continued to fill everyone in on her findings, including complimentary videos and blog posts by the notorious Wicked Glam Mother and other attendees. Normally, Sage would have been riveted.

  However, the only thing on her mind was the promise she’d made to Cole last night. The irony wasn’t lost on her. He’d only asked her to think about going on a date with him. Now the man was all she could think about—his hands, his lips, his tongue all over her body.

  “So what do you think?” Joe Archer asked.

  The question roused Sage from her reverie to the expectant faces awaiting her answer.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about an idea for our Christmas collection,” Sage fibbed. “Could you repeat what you said?”

  She stifled another yawn, drawing a curious look from Amelia. Sage avoided her assistant’s assessing gaze. Taking another gulp from her coffee mug, she directed her attention to Stiletto’s head of advertising.

  “I think it’s a fantastic opportunity for Stiletto, but I know you like to manage these things,” he said. The subtle emphasis he put on the word manage made it sound like the word she suspected he wanted to use was micromanage.

  Again, Cole popped into her head. Not the escalating battle of one-upmanship between their companies or the similarities they continued to discover about one another, but the man who respected her enough as a businesswoman to offer his advice.

  I’m not talking about surrendering control of your business. I’m talking about freeing yourself from the minutiae so you can truly take control of it.

  Cole’s melodic baritone slipped into her head as if he’d just taken a seat beside her. Sage fisted her hands against the resistance rising up in her. When her mother died, so much had been out of her control that she couldn’t help trying to dominate every detail of the company she’d created.

  It had been easier to loosen the reins a bit, back at the hotel on Saturday, with the delicious options of Burger Tower and a naked Cole as a reward.

  Trust the people you hired to do their jobs. Delegate.

  Deep down, she knew Cole was right. Sage had also observed that his aunt Janet farmed out routine tasks like cooking and cleaning. She’d said it gave her the time and energy to be m
ore effective at work.

  Sage closed her eyes briefly. You can do this, she thought. Do it so you can make Stiletto even better. She cleared her throat.

  “I trust your judgment, Joe,” she said. “If it has your seal of approval, then it has mine.”

  The conference room fell silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Anyone walking in would think they’d stepped into the middle of a Saturday-morning cartoon where every character’s eyes bulged out of their sockets in exaggerated amazement.

  “P-pardon?” Joe stammered. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “Yes, you did,” Sage assured him.

  She gave herself a mental pat on the back. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was proud of herself or if it was the caffeine finally kicking in, but she suddenly felt more energetic than she had all morning.

  “Okay, next up, Shelia.” Sage looked pointedly at the woman seated next to Joe. “What do you have to say for yourself after Saturday?”

  The young woman’s eyes darted uncomfortably around the conference table as she picked up her notes. Both her hands and her voice trembled as she read from them.

  Sage drummed her fingertips lightly against the table and watched her squirm. While she hadn’t been able to pinpoint the voices of the employees who’d locked her in the linen closet, she had a pretty good idea who had been involved.

  “Um...I’m writing personalized thank-you notes to include with the mini–lipstick samplers we’re sending out this week.” A fine sheen of perspiration covered the woman’s forehead as she continued to stammer through her update.

  Sage had been sweating herself when she’d first arrived at the office. The general vibe of the office and lack of commentary from Amelia had assured her that while everyone had heard about her being locked in the hotel’s linen closet—they hadn’t an inkling of what had actually gone down in the closet.