by Bria Quinlan
“Just tell me where to turn.” He glanced over his shoulder and pulled back out onto the street while reaching for my hand.
I was beginning to love a man who could multitask.
This was like Date Night 2.0.
“What were you doing on my landing?” I asked, because that was a little weird. Okay, a lot weird. I couldn’t have changed that quickly, could I?
“Your banister is starting to get some rot. I was thinking of fixing it.”
Oh, how cute was that?
I smiled to myself, glancing out my window so he couldn’t see how incredibly happy something so silly made me.
I directed him as he wove through traffic, getting us to the ritzy area of town where people actually had little driveways to park in, and pulled to a stop.
I glanced at my watch, thrilled to not be late.
“Two minutes to spare.”
I smiled up at him, about to say thank you, when he beat me to it, saying “Perfect” before reaching for me.
If I’d thought his kisses before were a lark—an accident of fate or maybe beginner’s luck—boy, was I wrong.
He pulled me into him, more sure now that we were on Non-Date 2.0 than I’d been before—more sure of me or himself, I don’t know. But the confidence was so darn attractive I went willingly.
I slipped into the comfortable bliss of him, happy and relieved and free like I hadn’t been in so long. Years. Maybe my whole life.
It wasn’t just a girl kissing any boy. Sage was more.
I felt safe—he felt safe.
As if he were my happy place and my shield and sword, all at the same time.
“Ahem.” A throat cleared just outside my window.
I turned, to see Michael standing there, looking highly amused.
“So, are you babysitting from here tonight?” Michael glanced past me at Sage.
“Sorry.” I grabbed my bag and pulled the handle to open the door. “I’m so sorry. I just—”
I motioned at Sage as if I had words that would make this less embarrassing.
Sage, for his part, was sitting there looking amazingly smug.
Not helping there, buddy.
He must have read my mind, because if anything he looked more smug, and gave a little laugh.
I hopped out of the truck, pulling my overnight bag with me.
“Hi, I’m Michael.” Michael reached across the seat to offer Sage his hand.
“Sage.” He did not sound happy about the meet and greet, which was totally not like him.
“Nice to meet you.” Michael stepped back and turned to me, hiking his messenger bag up on his shoulder. “They’ve had baths already. Basically, they need to burn off all the sugar I let them eat knowing I wouldn’t have to deal with them.”
“Gee, thanks.” I knew Michael tried to make every night he was home special, so I wasn’t surprised. Since they lost their mom, they’d become a hyper-unit of three, only letting me in after months of babysitting.
“No problem. I know you like a challenge.” He headed toward his car, waving at Sage as he went.
“That’s your boss?”
“Yes.” I thought that was obvious.
“And you sleep here?”
“Only when he works overnights.”
Sage harrumphed like an old man. I glanced at the townhouse, wondering how long I had to figure out the weirdness that was happening before the kids destroyed the house from the inside out.
“And?” I pushed.
“He’s just…younger than I expected.” Sage glanced down at his radio and fiddled with the dial.
“Younger?”
“Yeah…you know, what is he, like thirty-five?”
“Thirty-one.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just that’s kind of young to be a doctor and have kids and stuff.”
More mumbling. This time I was pretty sure he said something like McDreamy, but that would be insane even for Sage.
“He married his high school sweetheart. She died in a car accident almost three years ago.”
“Oh.” Sage glanced up toward the house. “Oh, that’s…”
“Right?” Because it was…it was just…
“Okay, so,” he cleared his throat and glanced back my way, his gaze steadying when it found mine. “I’ll call you.”
Oh no. The I’ll call you Date 2.0 ending. Not quite like the ending of Date 1.0. Crap. What had I done?
“Okay.”
“Right. Well, have a great night.” He waved as I pushed the door shut, pulling away from the curb and making me wonder what had just happened.
I walked up to the house, hoping I wasn’t going to have an implosion of lost happiness, when my phone dinged.
I glanced down at the text.
SAGE: They don’t have little dogs in there, do they? You know…in case I need to rescue you later.
26
Sage
It had nothing whatsoever to do with the handsome doctor whose house Emily was staying the night in. At least, that’s what Sage told himself as he rubbed the threat of sleep out of his eyes.
He really had been making mental preparations to fix this banister when she had caught him. But it was meeting Dr. McHandsome Face that made Sage go home, dig through the better pieces of oak in the workshop, cut his measurements, sand it down, and drive back to the apartment when he was certain she would be at The Brew.
Was he a doctor? No. He was just a man with a trade who was all-in for a girl who hadn’t yet realized she could do anything with her life.
Besides, making sure Emily didn’t die from a tragic fall simply because her landlord was clearly disinterested in basic safety precautions for his tenants gave Sage a mission. Which he liked.
He finished prying off the end of the rotting banister and tossed it down into the landing. It broke apart on impact. Sweat trickled down the side of his face from under his hat as he eyed the wooden railings on the other two floors. He’d chosen to just fix the one floor for now; the other two didn’t seem nearly as bad. But maybe he should plan to replace the entire thing.
Cleaning up the mess he made barely took ten minutes. Then he hauled the new railing inside. It wasn’t fancy. Nothing like what his dad could do. But it was sturdy. He drilled fresh anchors into the oak beam, which he hadn’t had to remove. Then he mounted his new railing and screwed it into place.
Nope. Not a doctor.
He bet Dr. Michael had his entire life all mapped out. He’d probably never missed a haircut. You know who would loooove the good doctor? Heather. She’d be all about the plan of success he’d probably drafted before leaving the hospital nursery thirty-one years ago.
He didn’t want to be jealous of Dr. Mike. He knew Emily looked forward to her overnights there because she had a real bed and some time to herself. Those were things he didn’t want to take away from her. But really, how long could a person last living the way she was living, burning the candle at both ends and showing very little, if any, fatigue at all? She took what life had handed to her and didn’t just make lemonade, she made pie and sherbet and other lemony things. The last thing she needed was the guy she was seeing to be a dick about one of the jobs that gave her rest and peace.
And this was why he worked with his hands. Somehow, in the process of building and creating things out of wood, his worries and thoughts worked themselves out into manageable pieces in his head. Seeing all the parts and pieces in his hands made him realize how small his problems really were. Everything could be fixed, or mended, or improved, or polished. He was never stuck with something broken.
He took the soft towel out of his back pocket and ran it over the freshly-sanded wood, dusting off the excess. He’d have to come back and touch up the stain in a couple places to make it look more uniform, but otherwise it looked good. Satisfaction and pride in a job well done infused his chest.
No. He wasn’t a doctor.
“You lo
ok like crap.”
“I’ve missed you, Abby,” Sage greeted, adjusting his hat. Abby snorted while rolling her eyes.
Emily came out of the back and stopped short when she saw him. Several things washed over her face in rapid-fire succession as she took in his presence. Surprise, excitement, anxiety, hope, happiness.
Sage tried to give her his best smile despite the exhaustion hanging heavily on his eyelids. Maybe he should have gone home to clean himself up first, but he didn’t. He wanted to see her. And by the look on her face as she approached him, she wanted to see him, too.
“Hi,” she greeted, then bit down on her lower lip.
Sage reached across the counter and used his thumb to tug her lip out of her teeth. She leaned into the cradle of his hand. “Good morning.” Then he stretched across the counter and brushed his mouth against hers ever so briefly.
“No PDA,” Abby objected flatly. “And stay on your side of the counter.”
“Sorry,” Sage apologized. “I actually didn’t plan on doing that,” he admitted. Guess he couldn’t help himself. He cleared his throat. “Would you like a ride out to Luke’s tonight?”
“That’s really out of your way,” she replied.
“Let me rephrase. Where should I pick you up tonight to take you to Luke’s?”
She shook her head but smiled. “My apartment, I guess.”
“Then I’ll see you later.”
He lifted his coffee as a salute, his eyes darting to Abby. She probably wouldn’t allow another kiss. So he shot his girl a wink and headed home to take a shower and a nap.
27
Emily
“Most of these will be in black and white, so don’t worry so much about balancing the color in the shot. Just focus on the light.” Zelda blew a wild curl out of her face and frowned at her protégé. “Am I being bossy? I’m being bossy.” She thrust the camera out toward Emily. “Take the pictures you wanna take. Forget what I said.”
I took the camera and cradled it gently in my hands. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
Zelda flashed a wonky grin at Sage, her own pleasurable disbelief in this moment very apparent. It was the most adorable conspiracy I’d ever been obliged to take part in.
“You can’t believe this is happening?” Zelda snorted. “I’ve never been cool enough to need a second camera. This is awesome for me as well. We’ll take some 'posed' photos”—she did the air quotes along with an eye roll—“I mean, as much as you can pose these yahoos. But we’ll save those until later, when the sun is nearly set. For now, take pictures of them working and talking. Follow your instincts, and have fun.”
I nodded. What else could I do? I’d just follow my instincts and I’d know when it was over if they stunk so bad I should change course or not. Win-win in a sad but saves-me-thousands-in-school-if-I’m-wrong sort of way.
“Hey! Check this out.” Zelda held up a Canon EOS 5D Mark III. “This is my new baby.”
She stroked the side of the camera as if it were truly a new pet. And who wouldn’t? It was a freaking Canon EOS 5D Mark III. Basically, if I were going to have that kind of money, I’d have to not pay my rent or eat for eight months.
“It’s so pretty.” I reached out as if to touch it, then pulled my hand back. One did not just touch someone else’s equipment.
Zelda didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy staring at the camera as if she were going to marry it—creative bigamy, perhaps.
“I’ve wanted one of these since the model came out, and I’ve always put it off.” Zelda looked through the viewfinder, snapping a picture of me. “I always figured something would happen. I wouldn’t be able to afford it. I’m a live light, travel light girl. But now?”
I watched her glance down again at the camera.
“It’s a beauty.”
“We’re going to take beautiful pictures together.” Zelda grinned, looking as if she couldn’t be happier. “She needs a name... Mjölnir. After Thor’s hammer. Literally ‘that which smashes.’” She held the camera close to her lips and whispered, “Because we’re gonna smash the heck out this next session, aren’t we?”
I glanced around, totally blown away anew about where I was and what I was doing, the Canon Rebel in my hands grounding me that this was real. That I was here to work.
Zelda wandered off, taking shots as she went—most of them just camera tests. I doubted she was going to use that picture of an ant she found wandering around the entryway. But, with her, I had no doubt if she wanted to, it would be art.
“Hey.” Sage stood just behind me, watching me watch Zelda. “Watchya looking at?”
“Zelda has a Canon EOS 5D Mark III.” I could hear the reverence in my voice.
“Sounds like something that can fly.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Better.”
“Better than flight?” He shook his head at me as if this were unbelievable. “You’re one of those girls who doesn’t like Superman, aren’t you?”
“Superman? For real? That guy is so boring it’s like he was created to make every other superhero look badass.”
Sage slapped a hand over his heart. “Say it ain’t so.”
“It is. It is so.” I dipped my head toward Zelda, where she was taking a picture of a ceiling tile with her new super-weapon of photography. “Even I could be great with that. Do you know the amazing photos she’s going to take? She’s going to go from Über-Talented to Gifted—Bam.”
He just smiled at me. I knew he got it. The guitar thing made him understand that artists were everything they did, and that the tools they had could make a difference they couldn’t, even at their best.
Sage kissed me on the check and grinned. “Back to the grindstone. Work, work, work. I’ll go make these sound good. You go make them look good. We have such difficult lives.”
He wandered off as the band filed back into their sound booth.
Life didn’t get any better than this.
I glanced at Sage, his head bopping to whatever was being piped into his headphones and—SNAP. Got it. The band might not want that one, but I was pretty sure it was a keeper.
And the pic might not be too bad, either.
28
Sage
Emily smiled and looked around the studio. It was—as usual—full of rock stars. But she was more relaxed during this visit than all of the others. Sage wanted to take credit for that. But he knew it was just how Emily rolled. She adjusted to life’s curve balls, making every moment work for her in whatever way she could.
She was the kind of person who’d be amazing to have at your back. Because no matter what came around the bend, she could handle it.
When had he realized that?
Sage took in a slow breath and swallowed. It was too early to start thinking in those kinds of terms. But that didn’t change the fact that he was right.
Emily caught his eye and she made a silly face, sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes. He grinned in response, because he knew that’s what she was going for. But his gut was tight and his heart was racing.
The stakes were suddenly a lot higher than he thought they would be after a first date.
She made her way around the studio, taking test shots and moving into peculiar positions. On her way by him, he impulsively wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her back to his front. He pressed a kiss to her neck as she attempted to wriggle away from him.
“You’re amazing,” he said in her ear before he released her.
She blushed deeply, but couldn’t completely hide the smile on her face as she went back to her job.
“Sage.”
He turned around to find Zelda with a hip out and her camera pointed at him. She dropped it to give him full eye contact.
“Don’t distract my worker.”
Sage nodded, suppressing a smile.
“But,” she took a step closer and dropped her eyes to her camera. “That was a really cute shot. If you want a copy, let me know.”
/> “You caught us?” he asked, surprise and warmth filling his insides.
She nodded. “I did. And it wasn’t my first picture of you two.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’re sneaky.”
“I’m the sneakiest of hobbits,” she whispered before moving away from him.
“Zeldy,” Sage called. She looked back over her shoulder at him. He struggled with getting his voice to sound casual. “I’m gonna want copies.”
She lifted her chin ever so slightly, a pleased glint in her eye. “You got it.”
Sage didn’t understand about eighty-five percent of what Zelda talked to Emily about all evening. He hovered. He couldn’t help it. He liked watching her. When she was talking shop with Zelda, she was all lit up. In her element, living the dream.
He did understand the compliments Zelda was saddling her with. He heard things like “natural, talented, had gorgeous instincts.” And Emily would just shake her head as if she couldn’t believe it. As if she wouldn’t believe it.
The memory cards filled up one at a time as the day came to a close. Zelda sank down on the floor in the corner of the studio where she scrolled through the last memory card on the back of the camera Emily had been using. Emily sat down beside her and Sage stood with his arms crossed and a shoulder against the wall.
“Some of these are so good...” Zelda trailed off, clicking through the frames on the DSL. “Are you sure you’re not a ringer?”
Emily laughed nervously. “I mean, I take glamour shots of dogs...”
Zelda was not amused. She thrust the camera at Sage. “Look. Look at what she captured.”
Sage took the camera and studied the small display on the back. Even at this size he recognized what an excellent shot it was. Luke and Mike were talking, except Luke had his head back laughing, and Mike was grinning flat out at his best friend.
He handed the camera back to Zelda. “She’s a pro, what can I say?”
