Lone Hearts (Lines in the Sand Book 6)

by Lindsay Detwiler

  “Hey,” I reply back, wondering where the confident Cash and Sage have gone. We’re both standing here, dancing around our words cautiously like two awkward teenagers.

  “Look,” I say right when he says “Listen.”

  “Go ahead,” I murmur.

  “No, you go ahead,” he replies.

  For two people who like to take the lead, we’re failing miserably.

  Cash finally takes the lead, jumping into his statement. “Okay, fuck it. Here goes nothing. I like you. A lot. And I know we both have our rules and our stipulations, and I respect that. I do. But dammit, I am sick of trying to get you out of my head and trying to find someone to replace this burning sensation in my chest when I see you. I don’t know if this could work with us. I know it probably won’t. But I just want to… I need to get to know you, to see what we could be.”

  I open my mouth to respond—with what, I don’t have time to figure out—because as my mouth opens, Cash steps forward, bridging the gap between us. With a pumping song blasting on the dance floor and sweaty people all around us, Cash grabs my face and presses his lips into mine. Quickly, the kiss turns hungry, and he claims my mouth with his, our tongues swirling in a starving rhythm of need, lust, passion, and everything else the heart speaks to.

  When we finally pull back, I’m in a daze, staring into the dark eyes of the man who has torn down walls I thought were permanently cemented in place.

  “Do you want to get out of here, go somewhere?” he asks, his voice paradoxically strong and breathy.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Like… do you mean….” I ask, wondering if we’re floating back into one-night or two-night stand territory.

  He blinks for a few seconds. “No, I actually think I mean let’s go somewhere to talk, to spend time together. You know, in a conventional, dating sort of sense. Wow, I really do think I mean that,” he says, as if surprised by his own confession.

  “Sounds great,” I say. Cash grabs my hand but before we can leave the dance floor, there’s a tapping on my shoulder. I know who it is before I even turn around. Shit. Carl. I forgot all about him.

  “So, does this mean you’re not coming back to my place?” he asks, a sad look on his face.

  I choose kindness. “I’m so sorry. Something’s come up. Thank you for a lovely time,” I lie. Carl raises an eyebrow, the lanky businessman now standing and staring at us both.

  “Well, you know what, it’s fine. But before you go….”

  And before I can even blink, he’s planting a fist into Cash Creed’s beautiful face. My mouth falls open in shock, Cash stumbling backward as people scream around us. In a moment, Cash’s brother is over, looking for Carl, but Carl is long gone.

  “Shit,” Cash murmurs, holding his nose.

  “I’m so sorry,” I reply, rushing over to see how much damage there is.

  “Do you want me to go after him?” Levi asks, puffing his chest, the redhead hanging on his arm.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine,” Cash says, looking more embarrassed than anything. He pulls his hands back from his face to reveal a bloody mess.

  “Oh shit, we should get you to the hospital,” I reply, panic setting in.

  “I’m fine. I’m totally fine,” he says.

  Before we can even talk about it more, a man rushes over with a towel and some ice from the bar. “Coming through,” the man says. “I’ve seen my share of bar fights. Come on. Let’s get you to a booth and get you cleaned up.”

  Levi and the man with ice rush Cash to the corner booth to stop the bleeding. I take a deep breath, wondering if this is a sign of what a disaster Cash and I will be together.

  “Oh, darling, aren’t you just a ball of excitement?” a man says, handing me a margarita. “Reed Wyatt, a pleasure to meet you.” I smile, noticing his tie, as I take the margarita and head toward the table.

  “I feel like I should be doing something.”

  Reed waves me off. “My hubby has it under control. Trust me, a man like Cash can handle a few fists. He might look all pretty boy, but those Creeds are Texan tough. And I know for a fact he’s not going to let anything slow him down after winning your hand.”

  I smile, liking him already. “So have you known Cash long?” I ask.

  Reed takes a sip of his own margarita before replying. “Long enough to know he’s a keeper. Sure, he’s got some walls up when it comes to love. But, darling, that man is a handful. And something tells me a woman like you needs a man who can keep it exciting, no?”

  I smile, feeling my stomach settle down as I see that Cash is already looking better, refusing to hold ice on his face despite Lysander and Levi fighting with him.

  “You’re right in that respect. Nice tie, by the way,” I reply, smiling.

  “So, you know, I’ve heard a few things about these Evermore bags coming out….”

  I grin, knowing where this is all going—and for once, feeling like it’s going to be more than okay.

  “I’m so sorry again. I had no idea lanky Carl had a swing like that,” I say as Cash holds my hand, leading me out of the bar.

  “I’m fine. Really. I mean, I think it makes me look a little badass to tell you the truth,” Cash replies, looking at me. Luckily, his nose isn’t broken—Carl’s punch isn’t that great, thankfully. But he’s going to have some bruising, and the swelling is already making me reconsider whether we should be going to the hospital. He has insisted he’s fine—and all the men in his friend circle assured the same thing.

  “It does make you look rugged,” I reply, leaning into him, feeling inexplicably giggly.

  “I’m the one who should be apologizing. Jodie told me that Reed wrangled a bag out of you,” he says.

  I shrug. “It’s fine. Seriously. The least I could do.”

  “You do know you’ll get some great promo from that bag. Reed will be toting that thing everywhere. It’s all I’ve heard about since talking about you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “So you talk about me?”

  He pauses our walking for a second. “You know, a little.”

  “And what do you say?”

  “Good stuff, of course.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He looks at me as we stop, the moonlight illuminating his face. “What bad is there to say? You’re sexy, smart, sophisticated, and a whole lot of fun.”

  “You barely know me,” I reply honestly, not breaking our gaze.

  “So let’s change that,” he says.

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  “Well, then let’s get on with it.”

  “So, where do you want to go?” I ask, and we pause, thinking. The truth is, for as many people as we’ve been out with, neither of us has really done the traditional dating thing. How is this thing done? I wish Harper had come out tonight—she had a cake tasting to go to—so I could have gotten some last second advice.

  “How about the beach?” he asks, shrugging.

  “Now? It’s dark.”

  “Perfect timing. No sunscreen required, and all the shrieking families will be asleep. This is the time to hit the sand.”

  “But we’re all dressed up,” I reply, looking down at my outfit.

  “Well, let me think. I do believe one of us owns her own fashion house, so I’m pretty sure there’s more where that came from. But you know, if you’re worried, you could always strip down, leave it behind on the boardwalk for safe keeping.”

  I grin, hitting his arm. “That’s not how this getting to know you thing is supposed to work. We already know those parts of each other.”

  “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. And your fancy dress,” he says, putting his hands up.

  I smile as we walk on, ambling toward the boardwalk and then finally the sand. I kick off my heels and leave them on a bench, the ocean breeze whipping my hair out of my face and making it a frizzy mess. Still, I don’t care. I breathe in the salty scent as Cash pulls me toward the water.

  “You do know this is probably not recommended. It�
��s dangerous down here at this time of night. People drown.”

  He smirks.

  “What? I’m serious,” I say.

  “You don’t strike me as the type who is afraid of danger,” he replies.

  I shrug. “I’m afraid of some things, for sure.”

  “Like what?”

  “Failure.”

  “You? Are you serious?”

  I turn and study him. “We all have our insecurities. Evermore wasn’t always a sure thing. It still isn’t. Things change. People change.”

  “But isn’t that the fun of it? Never knowing when things will change?” he asks, closing the gap between us as we stand on the sand, above the rising tide. He pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes, and my body reacts to the touch of his skin on mine.

  “I’m learning that sometimes change is necessary. But I guess I’m also afraid of trusting too much. I’ve been burned a lot in the past. Not just romantically, either. By family. By those who were supposed to stand by me.”

  I don’t know if it’s his dark eyes or the stars or the fact I haven’t been out here on the sand in so long, but I chide myself for being so vulnerable. Why am I opening up so much? This isn’t like me. Still, Cash stares at me, stares into me, like he gets it. For the first time in my life, I feel like someone truly gets it.

  “Well, sometimes, I guess we just have to face up to our fears and learn to run with it. What do you say?” His voice is almost a whisper, and for a moment, I see the other side of Cash Creed, the one hiding behind the playboy. I see this serious, soft side that overflows with empathy, with loyalty, with love.

  This time, I am the one to initiate our kiss. This one, though, lacks the hungry, prey-like consumption of the kiss on the dance floor. This kiss is soft and gentle, an opening up of two people who haven’t done this before—this vulnerability thing.

  When he pulls back, he looks down into my face, his hands cupping my chin. “Look, I’m scared too. Of the same things as you. But maybe, I don’t know, we can help each other realize that trusting people isn’t always bad, and failure isn’t a life-ruiner. Let’s cut ourselves some slack. Let’s see what we could do together, because you know what, I think we might surprise ourselves.”

  And, with the salty air still whipping around us, the sound of the crashing waves to our side, I nod, knowing that the Sage Everling who walked onto this sand is a little bit different than the one walking off.

  Nineteen

  Cash

  “Surprise,” I say, holding a coffee and a bag from the Pancake House down the street. For a split second, I wonder if she’s going to toss me out. Instead, she smiles.

  “What’s this?” she asks, standing in sweatpants and a T-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun.

  “Breakfast.”

  It’s Sunday morning, an hour before we start our work at the shelter. I couldn’t resist sneaking in some extra time with Sage. We’ve gone for coffee one evening this week, and she swung by Midsummer Nights for a breakfast meeting the other day. But we didn’t go home together on any of those occasions, not even the night after those steamy beach kisses.

  In fact, we’ve both set new ground rules, ones that neither of us are familiar with. No sex. No steamy nights. Just normal, average dating. And although I’m enjoying getting to know her, I have to say this—it sucks. The lust is getting harder and harder to ignore, and when she turns to lead me into her kitchen, the way her sweatpants cling to her ass makes it even harder to forget the fact I wasn’t cut out for this. I must have a penchant for torture to agree to this.

  Two cats come crying from the living room, one the familiar hairless who I sort of owe for helping me win over Sage.

  “Sorry, the place is kind of a mess. Launch is coming up, so there are samples everywhere,” she apologizes as she leads me to the kitchen island that also serves as a bar with stools. I glance around at fabrics, accessories, and even clothing strewn about. It’s chaotic but exciting, just like Sage.

  “So what’s in the bag?” she asks, grinning, as she takes a seat beside me.

  “Well, I remembered that you like pancakes, so that’s what I went with. I’m a terrible cook, in truth, so I let someone else make them. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you kidding? These are my favorites. Don’t tell Lysander, of course. The pancakes at Midsummer are good, too.”

  “Trust me, I’m not confessing that I went somewhere else for breakfast today,” I grin, pulling out the platters as we sit down to eat.

  We both dig in, chatting about mundane things like the weather and the news—none of which feels mundane sitting beside the sexy blonde. After a few minutes of conversation, though, she pauses and stares at me, grinning.

  “What?”

  “Is this the first time you’ve had breakfast with a woman without having sex the night before?”

  I grin right back. “Got me there. Hell, I think this might be the first time I’ve had breakfast with a woman.”

  “Stop it,” she says, shaking her head. “Really?”

  “You know my rules,” I tease.

  “Quite a different set of rules these days,” she says, and I wonder if I should take the lead to open up the conversation about what we’re doing here, about what we are.

  I don’t. That’s a complication to deal with another time. For now, I’m just sitting back and enjoying this ride with a beautiful woman who makes me hot in all the right ways and settled in all the other right ways.

  After we finish breakfast, Sage smiles. “Thanks. I could get used to this.”

  “I’m sort of counting on that,” I reply.

  “Are you?” she asks.

  I stare at the woman who is wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt but making my heart race faster than any woman ever has. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “Good,” she replies before leaning down to pet Monticello and Barcelona.

  “Your car or mine?” she asks, and I grin.

  “Do you have to ask? No way I’m letting you drive me. Come on, a player has to hang on to some aspects of his masculinity.”

  “I could say so much to that, but I won’t because I’m too tired to deal with the traffic anyway. Your car it is,” she says, grabbing her bag as we head down to my car, off to a day of barking dogs and meowing cats—and to keep exploring this thing between us.

  Twenty

  Sage

  “Holy crap, I never thought I’d see this day again,” Harper says, sticking the spoon in the bubbling baked beans on the stove. “These are actually delish. Are they a Pinterest recipe?”

  I grin. “Those are from a can. Hey, I couldn’t pull off everything from scratch.”

  “I still can’t believe it. A few weeks out from a launch, and you’re usually nothing but work. And now you’re taking off a whole night to cook dinner for a man at your place? Honestly, I feel like I’m in an episode of Black Mirror.”

  I pull the cornbread out of the oven as I turn to her. “I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

  “Oh, I am,” she says, putting her hands up in the air. “I am thoroughly overjoyed that Sage Everling is not only putting down work, but she’s giving a man a chance at more than one night. I just never thought I’d see the day. What changed?”

  For a moment I turn to her, serious, oven mitts on my hands. “I don’t know. I think it’s just… him. I can’t explain it.”

  Harper lets out a squeal, and I almost regret the serious moment. “Oh, he’s it then. I had the same feeling with Brad. The same inexplicable feeling. Oh Jesus, you’re going to marry a Texan. How exciting!”

  “Okay, slow down. This is nothing like you and Brad. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Me, not so much. This is still new to me, and to be honest, I might not like it. I might give this a go for a few weeks and decide it’s too much.”

  “Stop it. You’re a goner and you know it. I’ve never seen you smile so much.”

  I smile, to my chagrin, at this statement. “I know. God, is this what it feels like
?”

  “Is this what what feels like?”

  “Love.”

  After the word is out of my mouth, I’m kind of in shock. Who am I, throwing that word around again? But dammit, I can’t deny that he does something to me, that he makes me feel all sorts of things I didn’t think were possible.

  “Well, let’s see, cooking a five-course Texan feast almost from scratch for a man? Yeah, it might be love. Or you’re pregnant and craving spicy foods. Are you pregnant?”

  “No,” I reply harshly, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay, then it’s love. Where’d you get all these food ideas from?” she asks, flipping the ribs in the oven while I tend to the dessert.

  “I chatted with Levi about it yesterday. He tipped me off.”

  “Getting in with the family, too. Wow, Sage, you’re doing this dating thing like a pro.”

  I sigh.

  “What is it now?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “You really are like a naïve sixteen-year-old when it comes to this thing.”

  “I don’t know. We just haven’t really talked about what this is officially. Are we exclusive? Are we serious? I don’t know.”

  “Time will tell. But honey, the way he looks at you, trust me. He’s not going anywhere. He’s in it for real. I’ve known since the first time I chatted with him.”

  I’m putting the finishing touches on the cheesecake—not so Texan, but apparently Cash has a thing for cheesecake—when it dawns on me.

  “Wait a second, did you say since you chatted with him?”

  “Oh, shit. That’s right. I never brought that one up. Yeah, not long after you met him, I ran into him at the dog park. He didn’t know who I was, but I scoped him out. I knew from that second on he was a keeper, that he was perfect for you.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”