by Sandra Brown
"Shut up. You're disgusting."
"Disgusting huh?" He laughed, repeating the word several times as though he found it more amusing each time he said it. "Yeah, that's probably why you took to my tongue the way a baby does a pacifier."
His self-assurance was unbearable. She had had a momentary lapse in common sense, that's all. Mark it up to her recent rejection, or the pervasive love and good will of the season, or an inexplicable hormonal imbalance. For whatever reason, she had experienced temporary insanity.
Not only had she allowed him to take liberties, she had convinced herself that she was enjoying them, even craving them. If he ever realized that, he would utilize it to make her life miserable. Better to let him think she was a heartless schemer.
She tossed back her hair and looked down her nose at him. "Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it? If you'd gone any further, I'd have exposed you to my brothers for the lowlife you are. I still might."
"They'd probably believe you too," he said, scanning her from head to foot. "You look like you've just been well smooched. Lips all red and pouty. Hair a mess. Eyes dilated. Yeah, looking as sexy as you do, if you told them I'd tumbled you, they'd no doubt come after me with a loaded shotgun."
He grinned cockily and closed one eye. "But you aren't going to tell them, are you? 'Cause then I'd have to tell them that you kissed me back and moved against me like we were lying down. And because they're fair men who understand lust, they'd ask how you could lead one man on like that while being engaged to another. Then that whole business about Hot Lips's rejection would have to come out in the open and…"
Smacking his lips and shaking his head, he looked at her regretfully. "That'd ruin Christmas Day for everybody, wouldn't it? They'd miss the last quarter of the football game. Laurie would probably start crying because she couldn't believe her little girl would toy with a man like that. Marcie might get so upset her milk would go bad, and then baby Jamie would get sick and—"
"You're scum." She drew the word out, straining it through her teeth, saying it like she meant it with her whole heart and soul. Seething, she pushed past him and headed for the wide doors.
"Hey, Sage?"
She spun around. "What?"
"Did you ever kiss Mama's Boy like that?"
"Ha!" Striking a defiant pose, she declared, "Much better than that."
"Then he's no more than a damn fool you're well rid of, is he?"
* * *
"What's the matter, Marcie, can't you sleep?"
Chase reached for the lamp on the nightstand and switched it on. His wife was lying beside him on her back, gazing at the ceiling. She was rubbing her hand back and forth across her abdomen. Chase was instantly alarmed.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No," she said, smiling over his concern.
"You did too much today. We should have come straight home from the hospital. I shouldn't have let the doctor convince me that you were ready to leave. He probably wanted to take Christmas Day off."
"Will you relax? I'm fine. I'm just not used to having a flat tummy again. It feels good. I'm glad he's where he is now instead of where he was." She glanced toward the bassinet across the room where their son lay sleeping.
"Your flat tummy isn't what's keeping you awake." Chase propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her.
"It's almost time for Jamie to nurse again. Mothers have this sixth sense, you see."
"Ah." He studied her teasing grin for a moment. "Something else is on your mind. What is it?" Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. "What?"
"Sage."
He stared at her with perplexity. "Sage? What about her?"
"I don't know. That's why she's on my mind. Something wasn't right with her today, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was."
"She was piqued because Travis wasn't spending Christmas with her."
"Maybe," Marcie mused.
"You don't think so? You think it was something more than that?"
"I got the feeling that she's going through a difficult time. She was restless."
"She's always restless."
"Unusually so today. She didn't light for more than a few minutes at a time."
He thought for a moment. "She's probably still keyed up from her exams."
"That could be it, but somehow I don't think it's so simple. It goes deeper."
"Any theories?"
"Hmm. I remember how I felt when I left college. I suddenly realized that I was officially a grownup. It was scary, like being on a cliff about to take a plunge into life."
He chuckled. "You can hardly compare Sage with you. You're a brain. She's an airhead."
"Is she?" she asked tartly, snatching her hand from his. "Have you ever really talked to her, paid any attention to what she was saying, considered her opinion as something worth listening to?"
"Hey, Marcie, I—"
"No you haven't," she said, answering her own questions. "Lucky and you treat her like she's still your kid sister. Well, she's not. She's a woman. A well-educated woman."
"I hope so. Her education cost enough."
"And that's another thing," Marcie said, sitting up. "Every time her education is mentioned, it's in the context of how much it cost you. Have you told her how proud you are of her?"
"Well sure," he said. "Today, in fact. You were sitting right there."
"It sounded obligatory to me. Your education and Lucky's cost just as much as Sage's. Are you afraid that because she's a woman you won't get a return on your investment?"
"Possibly, especially if she marries that wimp Belcher."
"So you don't think she's even capable of choosing her own mate."
"I didn't say that."
"That's what you intimated. What's worse, you've let her know how you feel about him. Don't you rather imagine that hurts her feelings?"
"Sage never gets her feelings hurt."
"Of course she does!"
Chase plowed his fingers through his hair and blew out a gust of air. "I can't believe that we're lying here in the middle of the night having an argument about my kid—my younger sister."
"We're not arguing. I'm just pointing out a few things that have previously escaped your notice." She paused, and he indicated with a nod of his head that she should proceed. "First of all, she's no longer a child. She's an adult, equal to Lucky and you in every way."
"I'm not a caveman, Marcie. I believe in the equality of the sexes."
Ignoring him, she continued. "She's highly intelligent. She's sensitive." He raised his brows skeptically. "She is, Chase. She just doesn't show it because she's afraid her two brothers would mock her. Which you would."
"Okay, so we tease her. But we acknowledged a long time ago that she had grown up."
"But you still exclude her, the same way you did when she was little and wanted to tag along with you." He grudgingly admitted that her point was well taken. "I think she feels left out. Lucky, Devon, and Lauren are a unit, the same way you, Jamie, and I are. Laurie's wrapped up in Pat and her grandbabies. Can you see how Sage might feel alienated?"
"I guess so."
She reached across the pillows and laid her hand against his cheek, a gesture of forgiveness. "Treat her with a little more understanding and respect."
He nodded. "I promise to be more aware of it."
"Thank you, honey. I'm sure Sage will appreciate a shift in your attitude."
"Speaking of Mother and Pat, when do you think they're going to stop their silly game?"
Chase had told Marcie about seeing Pat kissing his mother the day Lauren was born. He knew their secret would be safe with her.
"I don't know, but I wish they would hurry and do something about it." Marcie looped her arms around his neck. "I want everyone in the world to be deliriously in love, so they'll understand how happy I am every time I look at you."
He closed his arms around her and drew her close, kissing her with passion and love. "How l
ong before—"
"Eight weeks. At least," she breathed against his lips.
"It's going to be a long, tortuous two months."
Reaching beneath the covers, Marcie caressed him. "It doesn't have to be. Not for you anyway."
At the touch of her hand, he groaned with pleasure. "If every new mother was as sexy as you, men all over the world would be impregnating their wives."
Jamie chose that moment to wake up. Rather than resenting the interruption, Chase got out of bed and pulled on a robe. He changed the diaper, then lifted his son out of the bassinet and carried him back to Marcie, who had already lowered her nightgown, preparing to feed him.
Chase laid the crying infant in her arms and watched with wonder and love as Jamie found and latched onto Marcie's nipple. "Greedy little cuss," he said, chuckling.
"He takes after his father." Marcie looked up at her husband through her lashes and smiled.
"He takes after me if he loves you." His throat grew thick with emotion as he watched his son nursing. "I never would have thought it was possible to love you—or anyone—the way I love you, Marcie. Only you could have made it possible for me to love again after Tanya died."
Her own eyes misted. "Lie beside me," she whispered. He dropped his robe and slid between the covers again. Marcie curved her hand around his head and drew it to her other breast.
* * *
Each year, Sage was stricken with postholiday blues. This year they were so dark they were almost black. For the first few days after Christmas, she managed to stay busy by helping Laurie take down the decorations, repack them, and store them in the attic until next year.
They prepared meals for Chase and Marcie, making numerous trips back and forth to their house on Woodbine Lane
. Sage even offered to sleep there and help out with Jamie, but Marcie's parents came up from Houston to spend several days, so her offer was graciously declined.
She made the rounds of her friends who still lived in Milton Point, but that was depressing to her. Most were either involved in their careers or with husbands and young families. She had little in common with them anymore.
Although she avoided Harlan whenever possible, he was at the dinner table each evening. To her vast relief, he paid no more attention to her than she did to him, but spent most of his time discussing business with Lucky. Laurie passed along his offer to vacate her room. She refused. The damage had been done. The beloved room was tainted now, and she never wanted to occupy it again. The subject was dropped.
She adroitly dodged talking about Travis with either members of her family or close friends who inquired about her wedding plans. One evening when Pat dropped by, Sage overheard Laurie speculating to him that Travis and she must have had a lovers' spat.
"To the best of my knowledge, he hasn't called her since Christmas Day, and then their conversation was short," Laurie had said. "They must have had a quarrel. What do you make of it?"
Sage could envision Pat rolling a matchstick from one side of his mouth to the other while he ruminated. "Damned if I know. Boys are sometimes hard to figure out, but girls are impossible."
Because she didn't discuss any immediate plans with them, their curiosity increased a little each day. No one asked questions, but she could sense their concern.
Her time was running out. She had to tell them the marriage to Travis was off. But how could she do that and save face? For the time being, she could only bide her time until something happened that would take care of the problem for her.
Something did happen, but it wasn't quite what she expected.
Early one morning, while she was dressing, someone tapped lightly on her bedroom door. Grabbing a robe and holding it against her like a shield, she padded across the floor and opened the door a crack.
"What do you want?"
Harlan wasn't put off by her rudeness. Instead he held up a newspaper clipping. "This was in this morning's society section of the Houston paper. I cut it out before anyone else got to it."
Puzzled, she scanned the society page headline. New Year's Eve Gala To Be Held in Honor of Engagement.
There was a subheadline that read, "Childhood sweethearts announce plans to marry."
Beneath that was a picture of Dr. and Mrs. Belcher, Travis, and his new fiancée.
* * *
Chapter 7
"…and when I walked into the room to check on him, he was holding his head up and looking around at all the ducks and stuff on his blanket."
Lucky glanced at Harlan, his skepticism plain. Harlan gave a noncommittal shrug.
Chase intercepted the exchange. "I'm not lying, I swear. He was holding his head up. And that's nothing. Listen to this—"
"How long is it going to take?" Lucky asked. He had the desk chair tilted back as far as it would go. His boots were propped on the corner of the desk.
"Why?"
"Because you've been going on about Jamie for the last fifteen minutes. He's a cute kid, but give us a break, will ya?"
"Do you remember when Lauren was born? I had to sit and listen to you carry on about every little accomplishment. Well, it got boring after a while."
Lucky sprang erect. "You took the words right out of my mouth."
Chase signaled his brother back into his chair. "But I listened anyway."
"Jeez." Groaning, Lucky once again sought help from Harlan.
He had a straight chair angled back and precariously propped against the wall. The atmosphere in the office of Tyler Drilling Company was always casual. He liked it that way. He also enjoyed the affectionate bantering between the two brothers who, he knew without any qualification, would die for each other.
Trying to remain impartial, he said, "He's plumb dotty over that baby, Lucky."
Encouraged, Chase leaned forward in his chair. "Jamie's hung, too. I mean h-u-n-g."
"He's just a baby!" Lucky cried incredulously.
"I know, but you can tell he's going to make the ladies mighty happy when he's grown up." Chase grinned smugly. "He takes after his old man."
"You mean his uncle Lucky." The younger brother looked over at Harlan and winked. Harlan chuckled.
"Go to hell," Chase told his brother. "Anyway, he's smart as a whip. Did I tell you about—"
"Yes!" Lucky cried.
Chase glowered at him with exasperation, but before he could say anything more, Sage walked in. Silently, Harlan caught his breath and held it. His gut always drew up tightly whenever he saw her, and that was the least of his physical responses.
That's why he'd been keeping his distance the last couple of days. He had had a close call with trouble in the barn on Christmas Day. From now on he intended to stay out of harm's way.
This morning, of course, he'd had to break his own resolution. When she had opened her bedroom door to his knock, her shoulders had been bare except for the satin straps of her bra. She had bunched a robe against her front; he couldn't see anything but his imagination had gone into overdrive.
Only half of her makeup had been applied and her hair was still damp, but she had looked fantastic. She looked even better now. There was tension around her smile, but considering the news he had brought her earlier, he had to give her credit for pulling herself together so well. He shouldn't be surprised. He had already seen her bounce back after receiving a felling blow. That kind of gumption he had to admire.
They made eye contact, but it didn't last as long as a blink before she looked away. He couldn't blame her. She was embarrassed about what he knew, although she shouldn't be. Travis Belcher was the fool, not her.
"Hey, Sage," Chase said, "did I tell you about Jamie—"
"Yes," she said quickly. "Twice."
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Whatever it was, I've heard it. Can't you say hello first?"
"Sure. Hi. Want some coffee?"
"No thanks. I just finished breakfast."
"What brings you out, brat?" Lucky asked. His question was obviously rhetori
cal. Before giving her time to answer it, he picked up the morning newspaper and opened it.
Sage moved to the desk and snatched it from his hands. Smart girl, Harlan thought. She'd got to him before Lucky had a chance to see the society section. Not that he was likely to read that anyway. It had been pure chance that Harlan had run across that article about Belcher.
"I want to talk to you."
"To me?" Lucky asked.
"To both of you."
She included Chase, then turned and looked pointedly at Harlan. Behind her imperious expression, he detected nervousness, near desperation.
The front legs of his chair hit the floor as he rolled off his spine to stand up. "I've got some work to do over in the garage. See y'all later."
He put on his vest and cowboy hat, pulling it low on his brows. Meeting Sage's eyes again, he touched the brim with the tips of two fingers before opening the door and stepping outside. As he pulled the door closed behind him, he wondered what she wanted to talk to her brothers about. Whatever it was, he sensed that she was dreading it.
* * *
Thankfully Harlan left the office without giving away, either by word or sign, that they had seen each other earlier that morning. After handing her the newspaper clipping, he had tactfully withdrawn, closing her bedroom door as he went.
The last thing she wanted from him was pity. She almost preferred his teasing and taunting to sympathetic silence. He was behaving as though someone—or something inside her—had died. However, she now had more to worry about than Harlan Boyd and his opinion of her.
She had spent a tumultuous hour in her room, pacing, brainstorming, trying to make up her mind what to do. Should she return to Austin and look for work there? Should she stay in Milton Point and twiddle her thumbs while waiting for inspiration? Or should she do the courageous thing and seize control of a bad situation and try and make it better?
Once she had decided her next course of action, she wasted no time, but dressed quickly and left the house. When Travis's engagement to another woman became a well-known fact, no one would find Sage Tyler huddled in a dark corner licking her wounds. She would already have alternate plans in place.