Sage: Take the Risk (F&L Story #3)

Sage: Parts 17 & 18

Part Seventeen

Friday, July 30, 2010.

Sage woke to the sound of Carey’s laughter, an alien woman’s giggle, and the delicious aroma of homemade chicken noodle soup.

Already he’s inviting girls over, she thought and buried her shame under a pillow, nearly allowing the tears to fall. So much for trying to seduce the man. He had other plans apparently. She lifted her head and wondered, Or is this a challenge?

Challenge or no challenge, she still wasn't feeling confident to strutting around naked, and it seemed that was what it would take to get Carey to throw her over his shoulder and take her to bed...in a sexual manner. Because he'd carried her to bed earlier, and look what happened? Another woman was giggling at him in his apartment. Sage considered just staying in her room when a knock made her heart leap out of her chest…and not in the good way.

“Sage,” Carey called softly, pushing the door wider. “Are you awake?” His gaze swept over her, warming her, and she was proud of how she could control the sorrow that threatened to leak out.

“I didn’t want to wake you, but I have to leave soon,” he said, sitting down beside her and smoothing the short thatch of hair that covered her head. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head because she didn’t want to face the giggling girl, but her stomach chose that moment to rumble. “Okay, maybe a little.”

A pretty woman in her mid-thirties – so, Carey prefers older women – popped her smiling head around the corner. “There she is,” the woman said, and Carey said, “Sage, this is my Aunt Sally. And before you get all worked up, yes, I told her everything.”

Sage’s eyes widened enough that her eyelashes tangled in her eyebrows. Are you crazy?! her mind screamed before her lips could form the words. Carey saw her expression and smirked like the dumbass he was. And then she did get the words out, “Are you crazy?”

Aunt Sally giggled. “Oh, honey, he is crazy, ain’t he? But don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m good at secrets. And I love soap operas.”

What’s that got to do with anything?

Sage pushed her body to sit up against the headboard and frowned at both of them. Fine, he didn’t want to get romantically involved. She hated that, but she could live with it. But she was not – and I mean NEVER – going back to her parents’ house. And that what exactly what was going to happen if they find out about this stupid farce. Her mother would scold and pressure and make her feel like a child again, and her father – oh, God! Her father! – he’d barge right in, snatch Sage by the ear and drag her kicking, screaming self all the back to her Barbie doll pink bedroom, directly across the hall from theirs, right after he decked Carey for compromising his little girl with false pretenses.

Carey assessed her frown, which was steadily evolving into a scowl, and cleared his throat. “Um, Aunt Sally, would you give us a minute?”

“Sure thing, sweetie. Don’t take too long. You’ve got to get ready for your man-whore auction.”

He growled at her, she flashed him a grin, and ducked out. Sage kept the smile from tipping her lips, but it was so very difficult. “You’re mad,” he said, and Sage refused to admit or deny the fact. Let him think what he wanted. After all, he did exactly what he wanted to do when he blabbed to his aunt. Why should he now care how she felt or what she thought?

“We had a deal,” Sage told him, noticeably keeping her voice at an even tone. Carey flinched.

“Let me explain before you get all pissy about this.”