He kissed her like he needed her mouth to survive, and Good Lord, she believed him.
Moving slowly, he pushed Sage backward. When her legs hit resistance and she could go no further, he gripped her ass and lifted her up onto the desk. Hindered by the tightness of her pencil skirt, Sage spread her legs as far as she could, which wasn’t nearly far enough. For either of them.
Brand released her, his chest rising and falling quickly and his lips slightly swollen. He dropped his gaze to her skirt, then reached down, grabbed the hem at either side of her calves, and pushed the skirt up over her knees, positioning himself between her legs.
Looking into Brand’s green eyes, Sage bit her lip, then reached around his neck and pulled him back to her mouth.
More.
Kissing him wasn’t enough.
She moved her hands from his neck, sliding them into that wavy hair that was a few inches longer than she remembered, and now with the sexy scattering of gray.
She tried to show how desperately she’d missed him in the way she returned his fervor. She struggled to get closer to him, to quench the thirst that had so long plagued her. She’d searched in so many extraneous nights for the feeling she now realized only Brand could give her. It wasn’t just sex with Brand, it was life. Living, feeling, breathing. He loosed the chains she imposed upon herself, the binds that tightened around her soul. Being with Brand wasn’t just sex, no, being with Brand was everything she’d ever needed, wanted, clung to.
He placed his hand on her leg, making his way painfully slowly along the innermost part of her thigh, then stopped, hesitant to go further. That wouldn’t do.
She reached for him, ready to urge him forward, hungry for his touch, wet with desire.
Sage froze.
Her hand in his hair stilled. Her mouth closed. Everything halted but her heart.
It plummeted to the floor.
She opened her eyes as her fingers traced the ring on his finger.
“I can explain.”
Sage jumped off the desk and pushed passed Brand, whipping around to face him.
“Sage—”
“God, Brand, you’re married?” She sank back into her chair, her legs splayed, and arms hanging at her sides. Screw posture—the love of her life had just been given back to her, then ripped away again all in a matter of minutes. Seconds, even. She’d lost feeling in her legs. “Why did you…? How could you let me—?”
“Please, Sage, just listen. I can explain. Honestly. Just give me a chance.” He took a step toward her, but she raised her hand, halting him. She couldn’t stand to be close to him right now.
“The marriage has been over for a long time. We can’t…I mean, Rosie—”
Sage gasped, and her hand went to her chest reflexively, trying to cover the blossoming ache in her heart. He may as well have just punched her in the gut. “You married Rosie Sanchez?”
Brand looked away, his eyes downcast.
“Wow. Congratulations. Looks like it all worked out. You got everything you wanted.”
His green gaze flicked back up to her face and, Sage realized her blunder. A small, fleeting pang of guilt gripped her chest—she’d been slightly inconsiderate to imply he’d gotten everything he wanted, when she’d known how badly he’d wished for Olympic glory. But that guilt passed. He’d just kissed her, making her the other woman without the slightest hesitation. Yeah. That guilt passed.
“Not everything, Sage.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry about the Olympics, Brand. I know how much that meant to you.”
“No, Sage. That’s not what I….” He took two steps forward, then knelt before her. She held her breath as he spoke, his closeness once again threatening to reduce her to mush. “I didn’t get you. You were all I ever wanted, and I let my dreams, no, my parents’ dreams for me push you away. And I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped dreaming of you. Holy shit, Sage, I can recall every line of your body with my eyes closed. Every inch of your skin has been branded to my brain. Every inch.”
Sage swallowed. Her eyes tingled, but she wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry. She had to ignore the words that sang straight to her very soul. He’d always wanted her.
But he hadn’t married her.
He’d married Rosie.
“You’re married, Brand.” Her words were a mere whisper. “Please, just go. I have work to do.”
He turned to leave, but stopped at the door to her office. “We’re in the middle of a divorce, Sage. I understand if you don’t trust me, but the divorce began before you even came home. It’s always been you, Sage. I’ve always wanted you.”
She looked up at him then, her eyebrows furrowed, as one tear slipped past the gate. “But you didn’t marry me.”
The platinum band that still circled his finger was proof of that.
“Promise me.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me, Brand.”
He crossed his arms, worried that if he didn’t restrain himself, he’d punch the wall and shatter his hand. “No, Sage. I won’t.”
“Then we can’t see each other anymore.” She crossed her arms, mimicking his stubborn stance. Her burgundy-painted lips pursed, her tough façade working on anyone but him. Never on him. He’d seen right through that mask since the very first day they met.
He stepped forward, no longer wanting to hit something. Now he wanted to hold something. To hold her. “Don’t you say that.”
She brought her gaze to his, tears welling in her eyes.
His heart crumpled within him. “Sage, please. Why? I don’t understand. I want to be with you, only you. Why are you making me—?”
“Just promise me, Brandon.”
He shook his head, pulling her into his arms. With his lips pressed into her jet-black hair, he inhaled deeply, the pungent scent of hair dye and coconuts gripping his every cell, her unique aroma the only thing he wanted to smell ever again.
“Promise me.”
“Okay.” The word was muffled in her hair, and as she looked up to meet his gaze, a tear dripped down his cheek.
Sage’s eyes followed the trail; she gnawed on her bottom lip, then reached up to wipe the wetness from his skin. Her touch sent a shiver through his body, and he closed his eyes.
She’d asked him to continue hiding her from the world, when all he wanted to do was shout out from the rooftops how much he loved her. He didn’t care that she wasn’t like him, wasn’t like his friends. He didn’t care that she was the exact opposite of Rosie in every way. He didn’t care that people would wonder what he was doing with someone like Sage. He knew they’d think he’d lost it, or maybe he’d travelled to the dark side and become a stoner. He didn’t care about any of it.
But he did care about one thing, and until he got to the bottom of it, he knew the question would eat him alive.
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Please don’t make me explain.”
He roared, practically growled, as his fists flew into the speed-training bag repeatedly, the slapping of his knuckles hitting the vinyl helping to ease some of his tension but not nearly enough. His arms throbbed; the ache seeped deep into his bones, all the way up his shoulders and into his back. The resulting soreness would be a bastard to deal with tomorrow.
And no less than what he deserved.
Sage was right. It didn’t matter that he’d always loved her. He’d been too fucking chicken-shit to let the world know. Too fucking chicken-shit to fight her, to fight for her. By the time he could have finally shared her with the world, he’d been too wrapped up in the lies, too consumed by the double life he’d been living for so long, that he let her go. He let her walk away from him.
Like a fucking coward!
His fists flew faster, harder, pain radiating up into his elbows, his shoulders, his spine…and it still wasn’t enough punishment.
He’d married the girl everyone else thought was perfect for him, while he let the one who actually was perfect f
or him walk out of his life forever.
No, not forever, he reminded himself. He had a second chance. He wouldn’t lose her again.
The bag swung back and slammed into Tig’s cheek. “Fuck!”
He’d lost focus.
Sage Shepard could do that to a man.
He grabbed the bag with both hands, steadied it, then began removing his hand wraps. He couldn’t believe how goddamn amazing it felt to have her in his arms again. Every memory of their time together ignited in the dark recesses of his mind, shoving themselves forward, flashing lights of love and rawness, passion and truth. She was everything he’d ever needed, both physically and emotionally. As hard as he’d tried to push all memories of Sage Shepard away, tried to find happiness with Rosie, he’d never forgotten the way Sage’s lips became so pliable beneath his, how her body molded against his, her hips landing in the perfect spot to cause friction in the best way possible.
And that was just the physical connection. Their emotional relationship blew that out of the water. She’d been the only girl to ever truly know him. She looked past his talents, his academics, his looks, past the champion swimmer, the star student, the perfect fucking son. She saw everything inside him and loved unconditionally. His secrets, his flaws, his insecurities…she loved all of him.
Their story went far beyond high school sweethearts. Theirs was the kind of love people dreamed of, wrote about, spent lifetimes searching for.
They’d been made for one another.
And he’d blown it all to hell.
He groaned, then punched the wall. As pain shot through his arm, into his already tender shoulder, he just about fell to his knees. He shook his hand out, gritting his teeth against the agony.
“You all right, there, Coach?”
Ah, hell. Simmons. “I’m fine.”
“You just punched the wall, buddy.”
Tig closed his eyes and counted to three. “I said I’m fine.”
“Does this have anything ‘ta do with the sweater puppets in the nurse’s office?”
Tig closed his eyes again, this time counting to ten. “I told you to stay away from her, Simmons.”
“And I heard, ya, friend, loud ‘n clear. But a man can’t help but notice a set a dubba-d’s like that. Can’t fault me for looking.”
“Holy fuck, Simmons.” Tig rounded on the man, then took a step forward, pleased when Simmons took a step back. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a man, you know that, right? I’d say you’ve been hit one too many times in the head.” Tig tapped at his skull with his knuckle, then glanced at the clock on the wall; it was nearly three fifteen. “Speaking of meatheads, Simmons, don’t you have football practice to coach?”
Simmons narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t retort. He turned, heading out toward the football field, the opposite way of the swimming pool—much to Tig’s constant relief.
“That woman’ll be the death of you, friend. Mark my words.”
“If you only knew,” Tig whispered. He’d died a thousand times in just the six hours since she’d stepped back into his life.
“Are you guys gonna get married now, Sagey?”
Jimmy practically bounced up and down with excitement. He hadn’t stopped pestering her since she’d walked in the door after school, and she had yet to get him to stand still.
“Jimmy, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”
“Oh no, sister, that’s the love making you dizzy.”
She looked him straight in the eyes, and tried to be serious, but the way he’d sung the word ‘love,’ was hard to ignore, and before long, her heartache was forgotten. She didn’t have room for heartache anyway, with this big lug taking up every inch of her heart.
“Come here, Jim. Sit down with me.”
“Uh-oh. That’s not a good voice.”
“Nah, don’t worry, everything is fine, big brother.”
Jimmy sat beside her on the couch, practically sitting on her lap, as personal space was never a concept he much understood—or cared for. “Didn’t you like your new job?” His fingers fiddled with a stuffed elephant, one of many that cluttered the couch, or sat displayed on shelves throughout the house. Pictures of elephants, tiny statues of elephants, elephant wind chimes…if it was an elephant or pachyderm-related, Jimmy had it in his collection.
Sage couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t obsessed with elephants.
She stilled his fingers, then waited for his gaze to meet hers.
“I like my new job just fine, Jimmy—”
“Oh, good! I was so worried—”
“No, wait.” Sage took both of his hands in both of hers. “I need to say something to you, and I want you to wait until I’m done to respond, okay? Remember what we talked about before? Interrupting?”
Jimmy nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes. Interrupting says I think my words are more important than yours, and that’s not very nice.”
“Right. Now, I want you to—”
“But I don’t think my words are better than yours, Sage, I just—”
She stilled his fingers once more, then brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “I know, big brother. Sometimes you just get so excited, and that’s okay”—Jimmy nodded—“but this is important, so can you try really, really hard to stay quiet? For just a few minutes?”
Jimmy licked his lips, then nodded again as he made a zipping motion across his mouth with his thumb and forefinger.
“Good. I know you and Mrs. Hall—Ellie—thought I’d come home and everything would be back to normal with Brandon—Coach Tiggs—and me, but he’s married, Jimmy. You know that, right?”
Jimmy stared straight ahead.
“Go ahead and speak now, silly.” She ruffled his cropped blond hair.
“He’s getting a divorce. Ellie told me. They don’t even like each other because they have no babies.”
“Oh,” Sage whispered, not even realizing the word had been spoken aloud. Babies? Had they been unable to have children, or did they just not want them?
“Yeah. Plus, she’s a real mean lady and Tig is always sad.”
Sage’s heart sank a bit in her chest, but she had to ignore any pull of sympathy she felt for Brand. She had to keep her distance; that was the only way she’d be able to keep her job and stay in town. The only way she’d be able to continue taking care of Jimmy like she’d always planned to do, and now finally could.
“Wait.” Something Jimmy said tickled her mind. “What do you mean, he’s always sad? Just how often do you see him?”
Jimmy’s eyes widened and he looked straight ahead again, his cheeks turning red.
“Jimmy.”
“It’s a secret.”
Sage sighed. “You know we don’t have secrets, Jimmy. Not you and me.”
His big, blue-gray eyes met hers, and he nodded. “Tig visits me every week!”
He blurted the words out so quickly, it took Sage a couple seconds to register what he’d said. She blinked repeatedly, her gaze blurring as she spaced out.
“What? Brand visits you? Since when?”
“Since you left.”
Sage stood, unable to sit still any longer. Her heart swelled with emotion, her breath nearly knocked from her lungs. Then she sat again, her knees too weak to carry the weight of her. “You never…you never told me.” Her eyes unfocused again as the words sunk in. Brand had watched after Jimmy for her. All these years.
And she’d never known, resigned to believe Brand forgot about her the second she walked out of his life.
“It was a secret, Sagey, I told you.”
But why? “I’ve visited you twice, sometimes three times a month since I left for school, and I’ve been back for at least two weeks, and you moved in here. When did you see him?”
“Ellie and me went for ice cream.”
“So he met you guys out somewhere?”
Jimmy nodded emphatically, eyes wide, so proud of himself.
Sage shook her head. As thrown as she was by Brand’s constant presen
ce in her brother’s life, the fact remained that he was married.
And the secrecy surrounding his looking in on Jimmy tugged at her mind. What could be behind that?
“Okay, well…it’s very nice that Brand visits you, and I’m glad the two of you have remained friends, but”—she ignored the pinch in her heart that implied she was more than just glad—“Brandon and I aren’t going to be together, Jimmy. I need you to understand that. What we had was high school stuff. We’re older now and things have changed. It’s different.”
Jimmy smiled. “No it’s not.”
“Yes, Jimmy, it is. You can still be his friend, but he and I, we can’t—”
“You’ll see. I always know what’s best for you, Sagey, remember?”
Sage nodded, still reeling from her brother’s big secret.
“You’ll see.” He patted Sage on the head as if their roles had suddenly reversed.
Jimmy was usually right—he did have a sense for things when it came to Sage.
Just not this time.
“Hey, Pudge.”
The fat dachshund wound around Tig’s feet like a tabby cat, nearly knocking him onto his ass as he walked inside his sad excuse of an apartment. If Sage could see him now, she’d believe that the divorce wasn’t a story, but a real thing. Rosie had taken the house, the car. Anything she could get from Tig, she took.
And he gave, willingly, to get out of the worst mistake he’d ever made.
“How’s the bachelor pad, today, Pudge?”
But he’d kept the dog, because this was his damn dog.
Pudge looked up at him, tail wagging faster than anything else on that dog had moved in years. Tig bent down to scratch between his ears, then pulled the old beast up into his arms.
“Damn, Pudgey boy, you’re fatter today.”
As if understanding Tig’s words, and appreciating them, Pudge licked Tig’s chin.
“Gross. No kisses for me, thanks. Save that shit for the ladies.” He sighed as he placed the heavy dachshund back on the ground. “Speaking of ladies…you won’t believe who’s back.”
Hell, he couldn’t believe it, even though he could swear the taste of her sweet mouth still lingered on his tongue, as though she were with him now, driving him to the point of no return with just the motion of her soft, supple lips.
Chlorine and Chaos Page 3
