“He’s working, too. In Dallas.”
Silence fell. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Post-wedding blues. I had them when I married Carlos.”
Sage put the ready-to-bake goods in the walk-in and began spooning out the nutrition-packed breakfast cookies. “That’s hard to believe.” She sent her assistant an admiring glance. “Sixteen years, six kids later, and you two are still so much in love.”
So much so, in fact, they almost made Sage think happily-ever-after endings were possible for couples, after all.
“I know. But back then—” Luisa shook her head ruefully “—when we returned from our honeymoon, which was only a couple of days, and moved into our first home, which was in dire need of renovation, I hit the wall, hard. I kept thinking, is this all there is?”
Sage understood that. It was exactly how she felt right now.
“Plus—” Luisa sighed “—we had wedding bills that had to be paid so Carlos and I were both pulling extra shifts. It was tough going for a while.”
Sage observed, “You seem to have recovered nicely.”
Luisa gave her a brief hug. “And you will, too, if that’s all it is.”
Despair coiled within Sage, but outwardly she shrugged. “What else could it be?”
Luisa squinted. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Sage knew she had to tell someone her fear or she would burst. She helped Luisa cut out mini rounds for the quiches she was preparing and press them into individual pans. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“You and Carlos are more than husband and wife. You’re best friends, aren’t you?”
“Have been from the first day we met,” Luisa said proudly. “It’s one of the things that makes our marriage so strong.”
Sage bit her lip. “You don’t think that could ever change?”
“No. Why? Are you worried your friendship with Nick might?”
Sage paused. “I want to believe nothing could ever endanger the bonds Nick and I have forged over the last seven months. And that with time, our relationship will only grow stronger...”
But Everett’s partings words that morning bothered her.
She still couldn’t figure out why MR’s assistant had felt the need to warn her as she left Dallas. The efficient, fashionably dressed young man had not struck her as a busybody. Rather, the opposite. Which made his behavior seem all the weirder. Since he really didn’t know her or Nick.
Sage knew she should let it go, the way she would have any other attempts to meddle in her life.
And she tried.
All night Sunday, and most of Monday, while working at The Cowgirl Chef. She was still trying that evening when her mother stopped by her apartment around dinnertime, a couple of stray wedding gifts in hand.
Sage thanked her and set them on the counter.
Looking as gorgeous as usual in one of her stylish outfits, Lucille eyed the stacks of yet-to-be-opened presents. “You haven’t looked at any of those yet?”
“I’m waiting for Nick.” But the truth was, it felt almost dishonest opening them, given the reason why she and Nick had tied the knot.
Her mom glanced around. “Where is he?”
“Meetings in Dallas.”
Lucille blinked. “That couldn’t have been delayed?”
Sage shrugged. “There was no reason to do so.”
Lucille worried the pearls around her neck. “How about the fact that the two of you just got married less than forty-five hours ago?”
“It’s just business, Mom.”
Scoffing, Lucille returned, “That’s what your father used to say to me.”
Sage folded her arms in front of her, resentment like a river running through her. “I don’t remember you complaining at the time.” Her dad’s devotion to the hedge fund he created had allowed them all to live a life of luxury.
Lucille’s gaze turned troubled. “Maybe I should have. Frank didn’t have nearly enough time with me or you kids when you all were growing up.”
Sage knew that, too. And lamented it. But since there was nothing that could be done about it now, she tried to look on the bright side. “He made up for it the last few years of his life, Mom.” In fact, their whole family had grown closer during her dad’s illness.
“I know,” Lucille said softly. “And I’m glad he had that opportunity to really get to know each and every one of you before his heart gave out completely. But it would have been better if he’d been present more when you were little, too.”
A lump formed in Sage’s throat. She had missed her dad at the wedding. She missed him now. She suspected her mother did, too. She moved in to give her mother a brief, reassuring hug. “Nick’s going to be a good father, Mom.”
Lucille returned the hug, then stepped back to look her in the eye. “But what kind of husband is he going to be?”
Another good question. One, she felt, because of the deal she and Nick had made to maintain independent lives, that she shouldn’t even be asking herself. Sage’s phone rang. She smiled when she saw the caller ID. “Speak of my handsome husband! There’s Nick now...”
Lucille patted her arm. “I’ll let you talk to him, dear. But when you’re finished, if you want to have dinner at the ranch with the rest of the family tonight, come on out.”
Sage nodded and put the phone to her ear.
Lucille left.
“Hey,” Sage said, wishing for a moment she had gone against instinct and stayed on in Dallas for a few days, so she could be with Nick now.
He chuckled warmly. “Hey, yourself.”
The sexy rumble of his voice did funny things to her insides. Immediately, she felt both better—and more hopelessly lonely, too. Which again was something she had promised herself she would not do—tie her happiness to someone else’s presence in her life.
Attempting to maintain some emotional distance, she asked casually, “How’d it go?”
“They voted yes.” Nick’s triumph resonated between them.
Sage could not help but smile.
“With some stipulations, of course,” he added.
“That’s great news!”
In the background, she heard a throat clearing. Then Everett’s distinct voice, “MR wants you to know your reservation has been extended at The Mansion for the rest of the week.”
Did that mean Nick wasn’t coming back to Laramie? Sage wondered with a stab of disappointment.
She guessed it made sense.
“MR will have my head if you don’t get back in there,” Everett continued.
Nick said something she couldn’t quite catch.
Aware she did not want to be the ball and chain dragging him down, even if they were now “married,” she forced herself to sound chipper. “Listen, I can tell you’re busy, so I’ll let you go.”
Unexpected tears pricking her eyes, she ended the call.
The silence in her apartment had never seemed louder.
She sat slumped on the sofa, aware she hadn’t felt this bereft since she’d been living with Terrence. Waiting for what seemed an eternity for him to come home from his IT job. Only to have him shovel in the dinner she had so lovingly made for him, get right back on his computer and go back to work, again.
He’d said he was doing it so they could live well, and since he made a lot more money than she did, she had not felt she could complain.
And she never had, not even on the day he had told her he wanted out of their relationship, out of their engagement, out of their living together arrangement.
Because he had felt trapped.
The ironic thing was, she had been trapped, too. Albeit of a situation of her own making. And she had not realized it u
ntil Terrence blurted out the truth of what he was thinking and feeling.
She could not go back to that loneliness and misery.
Not with Nick.
Not with anyone.
Furthermore, Sage decided resolutely, she wasn’t going to. So she had an evening ahead of her. It was the perfect time to relish the solitude and pamper herself. And, by heavens, she would.
* * *
THREE HOURS LATER, Sage was deep into relaxation. Conditioner slathered in her freshly shampooed hair, pore-cleaning face mask on, she settled down on the sofa with a pint of Blue Bell’s Rocky Road and a spoon.
And that was when the knock sounded. Figuring it was one of her brothers, sent by her mother to check on her, she shouted, “Go. Away.”
Another knock.
She ignored it and turned up the volume on the TV instead.
A more persistent knock. Followed by what she thought might have been “Sage!” although it was hard to tell, the sound on the program she was watching was so loud.
More knocking.
Sage sighed and closed her eyes. “I don’t need—” or want, she added silently “—company!” she shouted again.
This time the lock clicked.
Only a few people had keys to her place.
Her mother.
And...
Oh, no no no no no!
The door swung open.
Nick stood framed in the portal, wearing a Hugo Boss suit and tie. Which was odd. She’d never seen him dress city slick. But then, he’d never been pitching a deal to a venture capital group, either. Although his expression was maddeningly inscrutable, she’d never felt so utterly embarrassed.
Seeing each other at their absolute worst had never been part of their arrangement.
It was all fun, fun, fun!
At least until she had become pregnant. Then, there had been a few all-too-real moments. Crowned by her wedding night hurling episode. Which, she was sure, even though he had been utterly decent about it, had left him feeling “charmed.”
And now, to follow that humiliation, with this?
Oh, my heavens. He was never going to want to make love with her again.
And what woman in her right mind could blame him?
Doing her best to appear casual, Sage leaned forward and set her ice cream and spoon on the coffee table in front of her. Belatedly aware the neck of her thick white spa robe was gaping, she pulled it closed at her nape. Great. Now, he probably guessed she was naked beneath the robe, too. Something he might not have known, given the thickness of the terry cloth, if she had not just flashed him.
She regarded him coolly, doing her best to hide her mortification. “What are you doing here?”
An affable grin splitting his handsome face, he shut the door behind him and sauntered across the width of the living room. “I came to see you.”
Despite her efforts to contain it, her temper rose. “Well, you can’t—” she waved an airy hand “—not when I’m in the middle of all this.”
“Too late.” His gaze drifted to the wedding gown hanging from the bedroom door, still waiting to go to the specialty cleaners, then he chuckled and yanked loose the knot of his tie. Unfastened the first two buttons on his shirt. “I already have.” He sank down beside her on the sofa, to her relief appearing more friend than unexpected “husband” at the moment. He made a perplexed face. “What’s the stuff in your hair?”
Didn’t the guy have three sisters? Surely, they had used it. “Deep conditioner,” Sage enunciated clearly.
His eyes tracked lower to the aqua-green substance now hardening on her face. Lifted an inquisitive brow.
Was she going to have to explain everything? Lord help her, now she was really going to lose her temper.
“A face mask,” she said even more clearly.
He kicked off his Italian loafers—another thing she had never seen him wear. “Hmm.”
As always, he smelled like soap and man and sun-warmed leather and spice.
He also needed a shave.
Although the rim of evening shadow on his jaw made him look faintly dangerous, in the pirate-about-to-ravish-a-fair-maiden way.
Sage didn’t know whether to nudge him with her elbow for showing up unannounced—or kiss him for showing up. How was it he always knew when she needed to see him and be with him? Even when she said she didn’t?
Finding refuge in their repartee, she propped an elbow on her hip and echoed wryly, “Hmm? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
He paused to get more comfortable, stretching his long legs over her coffee table. “Well, I could tell you that you look fetching...” He grinned, folding his hands behind his head. “And you kind of do...in a sort of unwrap-the-present-to-discover-just-what’s-underneath way...”
She imagined he did want to get her naked.
As much as she wanted to wait—until the usual barriers around her heart were firmly resurrected. Still, it was time for the mask to come off.
She shook her head at him. Rose wordlessly, disappeared into the bathroom and removed the face mask.
Her face pink and glowing, she walked back into the living room.
“What happened to the weeklong reservation at The Mansion?” she asked curiously, aware she still had nothing on beneath her robe.
And suspected he still knew it, too.
“Canceled.”
Needing to do something besides throwing herself into his arms, or worse, inviting him into the shower with her, Sage picked up the ice-cream container, took one last bite of Rocky Road, then offered him the same. “You’re not going to be in Dallas?”
Smiling appreciatively, he savored the decadent mixture of chocolate, nuts and marshmallow on his tongue. Then handed the spoon back. “At the end of the week, but I’m not going to be staying at that hotel.”
“Why not?” she asked, curious.
“Way too expensive. And way too much room for just me.”
Sage had grown up with people who turned up their noses at anything but the most elite accommodations. That was one of the things she liked about Nick, the fact that he could be so practical and down-to-earth. Jealousy clenched inside her. “What did MR say to that?”
A few days ago, he’d been worried about offending the venture capital folks.
Nick sobered. “She understands that under normal circumstances I prefer to make my own arrangements. Even if she and her partners are picking up the tab for all travel, per our agreement.
“The only reason I let them gift us with a couple of nights stay there in the first place was because I thought you might like it—having grown up in a swanky neighborhood in Dallas and all—and because I forgot to arrange for a honeymoon for us.”
Surely that wasn’t guilt she saw reflected in his gorgeous blue eyes. It wasn’t as if she had planned anything for their wedding night, either. Or even stayed around to enjoy the spoils of the proffered luxury.
She re-capped the ice cream and put it away. “It’s not as if we were getting married in the real sense.”
Silence fell.
“I’m pretty sure it was legal.”
The thought of being tied to him forever made her catch her breath. “You know what I mean.”
Mischief sparkled in his smile. “I do...”
“Then...?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders nonchalantly, but there was nothing detached about the look on his face. He sauntered closer. All hot, hungering male. His come-hither grin widened. “Seems like hot sex is one of the perks of saying our I Do’s.”
It certainly should have been.
Hiding her disappointment about how her recent pregnancy-induced aversion to shrimp had eliminated that on their wedding night, Sage shrugged. “Oh, well...” Maybe those days w
ere about over with, anyway. With the sexual mystique gone and her waistband expanding...
He sobered. “So how are you feeling? Overall?” His gaze drifted over her kindly. “Any more nausea?”
Aware she was close to falling for him in the traditional way they had both wholeheartedly agreed to avoid, she squared her shoulders and said, “No.”
Satisfaction radiated from him. “That’s good.”
Silence fell between them. The kind they usually filled with hot kisses, and more. But not when she had a headful of goop.
Figuring maybe she should at least offer to whip something up for him, before sending him on his way, she said, “Did you have dinner?”
“On the road. You?”
She nodded. “One of the requirements of pregnancy. You have to eat regularly.” She amended self-consciously, “Something more than ice cream.”
He nodded, understanding a craving was a craving. Particularly in her state.
Suddenly aware she wasn’t in a hurry for him to leave after all, she paused. “You mind if I jump in the shower and rinse this goop out of my hair?”
His gaze drifting over her lazily, he shook his head. “Mind if I make myself at home while you do?”
Trying not to read too much into her suddenly racing heart, Sage murmured, “Go right ahead.”
* * *
NICK WAITED UNTIL Sage had disappeared into the bedroom, then eased back out into the hall outside her apartment. There, he had everything he needed.
And it was a good thing, too. Since his bride was every bit as overwrought and worked up as he had figured she would be. She might tell him everything that had happened to them the last week or so was no big deal. But he knew it was.
What lay ahead of them was even more important, he thought, as he quickly made preparations. Which was why he had to take the reins in their relationship. At least for now...
He had just finished setting up when the door to the bedroom eased open once again.
Sage paused in the portal, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the candlelight. She finished running the towel over her wet hair, then let it fall limply to her side. “What are you doing?”
“You really don’t know?”
Wanted--Texas Daddy Page 6