Until Sage
Page 25

“Is there a lot of changes that need to be made?”
I shake my head. “No, not necessarily. But right now, it’s Frankie’s shop, and as much as we love it, we want to make it our own. We want to do some upgrades and add a couple more chairs that we can either rent out each month or hire a couple more girls to work. We are always slammed, so the extra staff would mean more income in the long run.”
“That’s smart,” he agrees, reaching over to take my hand. “Have you told your parents?”
Blinking, I realize I haven’t told them or Chris about the shop, and they are normally the first people I tell everything to. “I haven’t. I’ve only talked to you, Ellie, and Jax about it.”
“Might be smart to keep it on the down low until you have a better idea of what’s going to happen. Or at least until you have a chance to talk to the bank about the loan you need.”
“You’re probably right. I love my parents, but I know if I tell them, they will want to jump in and throw money at me,” I mumble.
“Having money thrown at you isn’t a bad thing, babe.”
“No, it’s not, but I want to do this on my own. I want to prove to them and myself that I’m capable of doing something on my own. My parents are the best, but they can be a little overbearing at times.”
“They just want you to know they love you and that they support you,” he says quietly, giving my fingers a squeeze. “I think sometimes parents try to overcompensate. They never want us to feel like we are missing out on something.”
“Do your parents do that with you?” I ask, and his face softens.
“My dad is too cool for that, but my mom is a coddler. I love her for it. I’ve never worried about the depth of her love for me. So yeah, she throws love at me the way your parents try to throw money at you.” He smiles then leans back, letting go of my hand as our food arrives.
Looking down at my salad, my mouth waters. Then I look across to his plate and my eyes get big.
“Jesus,” Sage mutters, staring at the plate in front of him. It isn’t a normal size plate. No, it’s something you would serve a turkey on at Thanksgiving, and the burrito sitting on it takes up the whole surface.
“Do you two need anything else?” our waiter asks.
I pull my eyes from Sage’s meal and shake my head then mutter, “Unless you have another stomach somewhere. I think my man might need it.”
Smiling big, he shakes his head then walks off.
“Your man, huh?” Sage asks, and my eyes go back to his and my stomach dips when I see the look there. “I like that.”
“You do?”
“Been waiting a long time to hear you call me that,” he admits, and that warmth I’ve been feeling in the pit of my stomach spreads through my chest.
“Thank you,” I blurt, and his focus on me changes. “For waiting for me, I mean.”
The focus in his gaze changes to heat. “You better eat before I say fuck it to the food and carry your pretty little ass out of here over my shoulder so I can take you home and show you my gratitude in a different way.”
“Right,” I breathe, picking up my fork and shoving it into my salad, taking a huge bite before I tell him I wouldn’t mind him doing just that.
“I’m not even sure where to start,” he says, and I chew and swallow my bite while watching him look at his plate.
“The middle,” I supply helpfully, and he grins at me then digs into his food. Surprisingly, I eat all of my salad and he finishes more than half of his burrito. When the check arrives, I try to pay, but like always, he doesn’t let me. After arguing for a few minutes, I give in to him and he pays the bill.
After that he tucks me into his car and we head back to his place, where he leaves me with a soft kiss outside his bedroom door. I stand here watching him after that kiss as he moves to the spare room. I think about joining him there, but the part of me that knows we still need to work on getting to know each other keeps me in his bed, where I fall asleep surrounded by his scent.
Chapter 9
Kim
STRETCHING MY ARMS above my head, I blink my eyes open to a view of crystal-blue skies overhead through the skylight. I don’t know what woke me, but something did, since I was sleeping better than I have in forever. I roll to my side and press my face into the pillow, breathing in the scent of Sage that kept me company all night.
Hearing a shuffle, thump, thump, shuffle, thump, thump coming from somewhere in the house, I frown and sit up. Tipping my head toward the door, I try to make out what the noise could possibly be. It doesn’t sound like the normal hammer to wood that greeted me the first few days I stayed with Sage; it’s different.
Curiosity has me getting out of bed and slipping on my sweater to go in search of the sound. Moving past the kitchen and down the hall on the opposite side of the house, I finally locate the noise and pause in the doorway, resting my shoulder against the doorjamb. The room isn’t bare like the other two rooms in the house that haven’t been renovated. This room has gym equipment shoved into the space, including a weight machine, a stair climber, and a treadmill.
Sage, in all his shirtless glory, is on the treadmill in the middle of the room with a pair of large headphones covering his ears, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and sneakers. His profile is to me, so I can’t see all of him, but from my vantage point, I can make out the muscles in his arm that is cocked at the elbow. The side of his chest and back flex as he runs at full speed, hitting the treadmill hard every time his feet find purchase.
“Lord.” My mouth goes dry, and the space between my legs starts to tingle as sweat makes every single one of his muscles glisten. Reaching forward, he hits the button on the machine, and I jump when the sound startles me out of my perusal. He must see me jump, because his eyes come to me and a small smile spreads across his mouth. Pulling off his headphones, he drops them to the holder on top of the machine then hits the button that brings the treadmill to a complete stop.
“Morning,” he says, walking toward me while wiping his face and chest with the towel he grabs off the weight bench.
“Morning,” I reply, licking my lips and letting my eyes slide over him, feeling his do the same in return.
“Did you sleep in that?” he asks, and I look down at what I have on, feeling my eyes widen when I notice he can see all of me through the thin, white lace fabric covering my private bits. I didn’t put on my sleep shorts last night when I put on my tank top and got into bed, and I didn’t even think about pulling them on this morning when I got up. And the sweater I dragged on barely reaches the top of my panties.
“Shit,” I mutter, turning quickly. I start to run down the hall toward his room, but I don’t get very far. His strong arm circles my waist and I’m pulled back against his warm, hard chest. Squeaking when I’m captured, I feel him kiss my neck then nibble below my ear. It turns that tingle I felt between my legs earlier into an ache.
“Don’t change on my account.” His words whisper across my ear, making me shiver, while his fingers slide along my stomach where my tank has risen up. My muscles tense in preparation, and my eyes slide closed as his fingers sneak into my panties and touch my bare skin. Moving my arms up over my head, I hold on to his neck as his free hand moves to cup my breast.
“Oh,” I whimper when he flicks my clit. My knees start to give out from under me then the doorbell rings, causing every inch of me to go solid as I freeze.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, pulling his fingers from my panties and turning me in his arms. Cupping my jaw, his eyes search my face for a second before he grumbles “Fuck” again and shakes his head. “You may want to get something on. I can only think of two people who’d show up here this time of the morning.”
“Who?” I ask, trying to shake the arousal that’s still coursing hot and heavy through my system.
“Willow and Harmony.”
“Right, I’ll jus—” The doorbell goes off again, and I fight back the laugh I feel building up inside me from the frustrated look on his face. “I’ll go get dressed,” I say, getting up on my tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.