Stroke of Love

by Melissa Foster

  Sage nodded an acknowledgment as Kate approached the table. She set her still-capped beer on the table with a clunk.

  “I swear you need a leather glove to open these damn things.” She stared at the bottle.

  Luce looked at Sage. “Let’s see your alpha brawn in action.”

  Sage grunted like a Neanderthal. Then he picked up the bottle and covered it with his enormous hand, cupping the cap with his palm. With a single twist, the hiss of sweet relief cut through the air.

  “M’lady.” He motioned as if he were bowing and handed the bottle to Kate. She wrapped her fingers around its neck, brushing his hand with hers. Like a schoolboy going through puberty, he felt another jolt of heat to his groin.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I can usually do it myself.”

  Stubborn.

  Luce stifled a laugh.

  “I’m sure you can. Tell me about your assignment, Kate. How long have you been here? What changes have you seen?” If he was going to work with her over the next two weeks, he had to try to break through the icy barrier they were struggling against.

  “Changes? I’m lobbying for a well for the village, but I’m not sure if we’ll get it. The clinic that Caleb runs is really efficient and it’s made a world of difference for the elderly.” She took a drink of her beer. “I’ve been here for almost twenty-five months. We’re tasked for twenty-four months, but they add three months of training before the assignment begins, even though most of the training takes place at a central location, so the assignment is really twenty-seven months.”

  “Where will you go next?” Sage asked.

  “I don’t know. We usually request a location and then we have to wait a few months before we find out. I’m going to have a difficult time leaving here. I’ve come to love so many of the people, and starting over is exciting, but really hard. I know I’ll lose sleep over leaving the kids and the families.”

  “What do you miss most from home?” Sage asked.

  Luce and Sage watched Kate mull over the question.

  “Probably my favorite writing journals. I can’t get them here, and if I order them, shipping is a fortune.” Kate sighed. “The Stardust leather journal with artist paper. They always make me happy. Stupid, I know.” She swatted the air.

  “You and your journals,” Luce teased. “She writes in them every day. God, I’d miss real restaurants and spending time with my friends. You’re so alone here.”

  “I’m not alone. There are plenty of people around. And I can’t even tell you the last time I went to a real restaurant.” Kate finished her beer and looked expectantly at Luce.

  “I think it’s my turn to snag another round.” Sage headed for the kitchen and came back with three bottles. “So this is what aid workers in Belize do. I always wondered what went on at night.”

  “There’s a place in town where you can dance,” Luce said.

  “Oh God, Luce,” Kate said.

  “Note to self. Kate does not like to dance.” Sage opened each of the bottles and handed them out.

  “Thanks, Sage.” Luce lifted her beer with a nod. “She loves to dance.”

  Kate glared at Luce and Luce glared right back.

  “She just doesn’t like anyone to see her.”

  “Well, not to worry, Kate,” Sage said. “I’m not exactly racing to the dance floor myself.”

  “God, you guys are boring.” Luce took a swig of her beer. “Two fuddy-duddies. Maybe I should have gone with Penelope and the others.”

  “Oh, please. You’d last half a minute with them before smacking Penelope silly with her neediness and I’m-too-good-for-this attitude.”

  Luce touched Kate’s arm and said softly, “No, hon. That’s you. I live and breathe these people. Their stuff doesn’t bother me one bit.”

  Sage listened intently, gleaning what he could from the impromptu lesson on all things Kate and Luce. An hour and two beers later, they were all spilling secrets.

  “So tell us, Sage.” Kate’s voice lingered on his name. “Why are you really here? Did you sleep with someone’s wife and now you’re on damage control? Sprinkle a little humanitarian effort in the press and push all that naughty stuff aside?”

  Sage didn’t know what he was expecting her to ask him, but that was certainly not anywhere near the realm of possibilities. He shot a look at Luce, who shrugged. Clearly she was just as surprised as he was.

  “You do jump to the worst with people, don’t you?” He smiled at Kate, doing his best to conceal the sting of her question. “Well, ladies, this has been fun, but I was advised not to get too drunk by my fetching mentor.” Sage finished his beer and rose to his feet.

  Kate stood and swayed.

  Sage reached across the table and grabbed her arm gently, steadying her. “Whoa. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.” Kate reached for Luce’s hand. “Luce?”

  “Steady as a rock.” Luce took her hand.

  “If you’re leaving, too, I think I’ll walk with you. Put my alpha brawn protectiveness to good use.” He winked at Luce.

  “We don’t need a bodyguard,” Kate said.

  “Think of me as a tagalong. What kind of man would leave two women to walk home alone in the jungle?” He walked beside Kate, fighting the urge to wrap his arm around her waist, just to ensure she was really okay. Or maybe just because I want to. She’d held her beer well until that last one, which did her in. He’d seen the spark simmering in her eyes, but who was he to tell a self-sufficient woman like Kate that she should stop drinking?

  Luce led them along the narrow path, with Kate in the middle and Sage taking up the rear. He kept one finger loosely linked in a belt loop on the back of Kate’s shorts. He wasn’t going to take a chance of her tumbling into the thick brush. Luce seemed more stable on her feet, and she had a good ten pounds on Kate to soak up the alcohol.

  When they reached the end of the path, Luce led the way to the middle cabin. “My place is right here. Thanks, Sage.” Luce wrapped her arms around Kate and whispered something in her ear that Sage couldn’t make out. Probably telling her to steer clear of me.

  “Where’s your cabin, Kate?” Sage asked, his finger still locked in her belt loop, surprised she didn’t try to pull away.

  Luce pointed to a path just beyond Sage’s cabin.

  “I’m fine.” Kate pushed at his hand. “G’night, Luce. Breakfast tomorrow?”

  Luce waved over her head as she walked inside. “Sounds good.”

  “Okay, let’s get you home safe and sound,” he said to Kate.

  “I’m fine. Really. I don’t need you to walk me—” She stumbled forward.

  Sage pulled her upright by her belt loop and settled his hands on her hips. God, she felt good. Too good. She grabbed his arms, leaning against him for stability, and looked up at him. Christ. He had been with plenty of women, mainly models and artists, and Kate seemed so normal compared to them. Never had he felt drawn to anyone the way he was drawn to her. He had no fucking idea why, but he had the strange desire to know all of her secrets. What the hell is that all about? And with her breasts pressed against his chest, her thumbs pressing the sensitive area just inside his pockets, and those goddamn alluring eyes looking right through him, it took all his restraint not to lower his mouth to hers.

  Her lips parted and her tongue ran slowly over them, leaving them slick. Inviting.

  He reluctantly tore his eyes from her lips. Sage had never been the kind of guy who took advantage of an inebriated woman, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. Not with you. He pried her fingers from his hips. “Let’s get you home.”

  She swallowed hard. “Um…Right. Okay.” He kept his arm placed lightly around her waist, telling himself he was doing it to keep her steady, but damn if he didn’t love the feel of her pressed against him. She was so tough and so delicate at the same time. Sage slipped behind her on the narrow path—a path he hadn’t even noticed in the daylight. They broke free of the forest about fifty feet later, and Sage di
d a quick visual sweep of the dark area surrounding Kate’s cabin, which wasn’t a cabin at all. It could be described only as a hut built on stilts, like a tree house. It was made of wood with a thatched roof. Brush had been cleared in a circle around the wooden stilts, giving Kate a yard of about twenty feet. It was the most romantic setting he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Don’t you get scared out here by yourself?” He glanced down at Kate, and she had one finger looped into his waistband.

  “Nope.” She moved toward the steps, and Sage walked alongside her. Normally, he’d stop at the bottom of the stairs and give her space so she didn’t feel that he was pressuring her for something he wasn’t. But Sage had just arrived in the jungle, and he wasn’t quite as sure as Kate was that there wasn’t someone lurking, waiting to touch this pretty little lady when she was all alone and unsuspecting. He followed her up the steps and inside. The room was slightly bigger than his. Her bed had a colorful comforter, which brightened the dark wooden interior. Scarves hung in front of the windows, and Sage could think of several things to use them for that had absolutely nothing to do with curtains…or sleeping. Sticky notes clung to the table, the walls, and her clipboard, scrawled with reminders. There were three spiral notebooks on the table beside a handful of pens. He read one of the sticky notes. Meds to Olivia. Javier, pad/crayons for Xmas?

  “See? Safe and sound.” She spun in a circle. As she began to take a dizzy fall toward the floor, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “Whew, that was close.” She hung on to him.

  Bad idea. Very bad idea.

  His heart hammered against his ribs. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her. Just once.

  Do not do it.

  She put her hand on his stomach, and Sage felt a warm sensation lower, in someplace much more sensitive, which seemed to be happening a lot when he was near her. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, then lowered her until she was sitting on the bed. She grabbed his shirt as he drew back. For a moment they were inches apart. Her warm breath stroked his cheeks, the sweet-and-sour smell of alcohol mixed with the fresh smell of Kate drawing him in. She closed her eyes, and Sage took her hand in his, this time pulling it from its purchase on his shirt and placing it in her lap.

  “Thanks for a fun night, Kate.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared in disbelief. Then her lips closed, and her cheeks flushed. She pushed to her feet, seemingly more aware of her footing. “Um…right. Thanks.”

  “If you need me, you know where I live.” Sage turned to leave.

  “Sage?”

  Do not kiss her.

  “Yeah?” he asked with one hand on the door handle.

  “I’m sorry I asked about…well, why you were here.”

  He turned to look at her, and the sincerity in her eyes reeled him in again. “No worries. You don’t really know me yet. One day you’ll realize that’s not who I am.”

  Chapter Four

  SAGE SPENT MOST of the evening sketching what he’d really like to be painting—on canvas, the school building, anywhere he could. He had to do something to keep his mind off of not kissing Kate, but sketching into the wee hours of the morning hadn’t done anything more than make him tired. Rain had come on strong during the night, easing the odd cadence of the amphibians, and offering a nice break to the humidity. Eventually, it had lulled him to sleep.

  He awoke to the smell of fresh rain, the singing of the birds—and the humidity—all of which he relished. It was a far cry from waking up to the sounds of horns and cars in New York. He showered and dressed and headed over to the mess hall for coffee and breakfast. Sage saw the beauty through the oppressive heat. The grass was slick, and the dirt had turned to mud. The colorful forest shined brightly against the sun’s sharp rays, and Sage had the burgeoning need to create. It pressed against his chest and ached like a sore. To sculpt something that would mirror the beauty of Punta Palacia would be incredible, but it would be impossible to get his sculpting supplies and equipment to Belize. He’d have to make due with painting—and he’d have to convince Kate that it was the right thing to do.

  A middle-aged Belizean woman wearing a bright yellow skirt and blouse and a friendly smile greeted Sage at the kitchen. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was tucked beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

  “Good morning,” she said with a thick island accent. She had kind, dark eyes. She held a large wooden spoon in one hand and waved the other at the stove. “What is your pleasure today?”

  “Good morning,” Sage said. He held out a hand. “I’m Sage.”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand gently, but she did not shake it. Instead, she nodded. “Sylvia.” She motioned to two other women behind her, their hands covered with flour, kneading dough on the counter beside the fridge. “Mila and Luisa.” They smiled shyly.

  Sage waved and smiled. “I’ll have eggs and one of those wonderful Johnnycakes, thank you.”

  “Ah. You like the Johnnycakes. Good man. They’ll give you energy. You are here to work with the children?” she asked.

  “Yes. Kate told you?”

  Sylvia nodded. “My nephew Javier is very excited about art lessons. Thank you for volunteering.”

  Javier. Sage remembered the picture Kate had found in the school office. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, and all of the children.” Sage filled a mug with coffee and went to join Luce, the public relations rep for the other volunteers, in the mess hall.

  Luce had a hot cup of coffee and her nose buried in a novel.

  “Mind if I crash your party?” Sage set his food down and sat across from her.

  She lowered the book. “Of course not. Good morning.”

  “It’s quiet today.” Sage felt his stomach growl. Skipping dinner hadn’t been the best idea in the world. He wolfed down his eggs in a few fast bites.

  “You’re kidding, right? Penelope, Cassidy, and Clayton won’t even wake up until noon, and Kate’s at the school.” She looked up at the ceiling. “The rain really did her in. She and Oscar have to mop up before the students arrive.”

  “Mop up?”

  “The roof leaks. She didn’t tell you?”

  Sage shook his head.

  “She’s so used to it, she probably didn’t even think of it. They’ve fixed the roof like a hundred times, but they can’t stop it from leaking.” She sipped her coffee.

  Sage rose to his feet. “I’ll go see if I can help.”

  “If you can mop, you can help.”

  Sage would do one better than that. In college, he’d spent one summer helping a buddy with his father’s construction business, and he happened to have a knack for roofing. He grabbed a second cup of coffee for Kate before leaving and then headed over to the school.

  WHAT WAS I thinking, drinking so much last night? Kate’s head was pounding. Her arms were already fatigued from mopping, and when Sage came into the school, embarrassment rushed in. He handed her a warm cup of coffee, eyeing the water on the floor, the desks pushed to the outskirts of the room. She tried not to stare at his powerful arms or the tattoo snaking up the back of his neck, but damn it, how could she not? She remembered the feel of his hard body—and it was hard—against her when he’d caught her after she’d lost her footing last night. Shit. Stop thinking of him like that.

  “That’s a hell of a leak,” he said.

  “The bucket caught the water this time, but I kicked it over by accident.” She sipped the coffee. “Mm. Thank you for this.”

  “You okay this morning? Sleep okay?” He walked around the room, looking up at the exposed beams in the wooden ceiling. The wood was drenched right through in certain spots, with nails poking through. “Is Oscar around?”

  “Yes. Right here.” Oscar entered the room with a mop in hand.

  “Morning, Oscar. Can I get up on the roof?”

  “Wait, Sage. That’s not your job. Oscar knows what he’s doing.” Kate set her coffee down and leaned on her mop.

  “I�
�m sure he does. I have a little experience in this area, too. Do you mind? One quick look?”

  Kids would be arriving shortly, and she had more pressing worries than him poking around on the leaky roof. “Be my guest. Just don’t fall off.”

  A few minutes later, she heard their heavy footsteps overhead. Kate was just happy that he hadn’t made any mention of how drunk she’d been the evening before. She hardly ever had more than one beer, and four—or was it five? She couldn’t remember—whatever it was, it was over her limit. She hadn’t even known she had a limit until last night. Of all the nights to find out. She sighed, remembering the heat of his breath as it brushed her lips. The way she’d wanted to touch the sprinkling of whiskers along his jaw and the way he smelled when he’d settled her on the bed. Masculine. Virile. So damn sexy.

  Holy cow. What am I doing?

  A loud metallic sound rang out above, followed by a muffled dragging sound, startling Kate. She listened to the men shout and then the sound of…digging? In wood? Scraping? Heavy footsteps crossed the roof. Kate closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was question Sage after she’d embarrassed herself the night before, but with kids coming in for classes, she had to know what was going on and if the noise would continue after the kids arrived. She went outside and looked up at the two men bending over the aluminum sheathing on the roof with heavy tools in their hands, looking very macho. She shielded her eyes from the sun to get a better view, and oh, what a view it was! Sage had stripped off his tank top. His broad, muscular chest and narrow waist glistened in the sun. She couldn’t help but follow the line of his abs to the waist of his cargo shorts, which had slipped dangerously low.

  Focus, focus, focus. “How’s…how’s it going up there?”

  Oscar waved. “He has found the problem. He is very good with his hands.”

  I bet he is. Two minutes on a roof and he can fix the problem that we’ve been dealing with for two years? “Really?”

  Sage glanced over, wiped his brow with his arm, and nodded. “Give us an hour. We’ll get it fixed, good as new.”