by Tawny Weber
That was a lot of sex.
She’d had more awesome sex in the last five days than she’d had mediocre sex the entire rest of her life.
Sage ran her tongue over her bottom lip, reveling in the taste of warm cinnamon and hot thoughts.
Oh, yeah. Her metabolism was working overtime.
As were her imagination, her optimism and her libido.
She couldn’t have dreamed up a better distraction from worrying about her father if she’d tried.
Or a better way to enjoy Mrs. Green’s fabulous cooking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Nina observed, sneaking a piece of pancake off Sage’s plate.
“Hungry? Or sexually satisfied?” Sage asked with a wink.
“Content.”
Whoa.
Sage frowned, slowly lowering her fork to the plate.
“Content? That’s a funny way to describe me.” Satisfied, giddy, worried, confused. Those she could see. But content?
Her frown deepened. Had she ever been content? Why was she just now realizing it was something she might want?
“Probably because you’ve never been described that way before.” Nina laughed. “From preschool on, you’ve always been off searching for something. A different toy, better crayons, another adventure. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you seem satisfied with where you were at. With what you have.”
Content? Satisfied?
Was that what this feeling was? Sage took a deep breath, pushing her plate away. Suddenly, she wasn’t so hungry.
“What’s wrong?” Nina asked.
“I don’t know.” What was wrong?
She wanted to be content. To find satisfaction. To live a happy life. This was as close to bliss as she’d ever been. Nina was right. She was always searching for something. For someone. For that magical connection that would make her feel whole.
“Are you getting cold feet?” Nina asked, pulling Sage’s half-eaten pancakes toward her to take a bite. “That’s normal, you know.”
More like suddenly realizing that she’d spent most of her life on a quest, without a clue what she actually wanted. Home? The idea of staying in one place, always, was boring. A person? She’d thought that—and been wrong—often enough to know that happiness had to come from within first.
“Did you get cold feet before you married Jeffrey?” she asked. Maybe she was so upside down, her cold feet manifested as contentment.
“Sure did,” Nina said around a big mouthful.
“What’d you do?”
“Eloped.” Washing the pancake down with a sip of juice, Nina shrugged. “I knew I’d screw it up if I kept worrying. There are a million questions that go with a wedding. Color schemes, flower choices, menus and guest lists. Even when you think you know what you want, it’s still crazy.”
“So you eloped to avoid the wedding decisions?”
“Sort of.” Nina wrinkled her nose, then gave in and ate another bite of pancake. “But mostly it was to escape all the second thoughts. I mean, I knew Jeffrey and I were perfect for each other. But it was like all the wedding questions sparked marriage questions. Silly doubts, crazy worries.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not planning my wedding yet, then,” Sage said, suddenly sad and confused.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not getting cold feet. Are you thinking that the two of you are crazy happy right now?”
“We are happy,” Sage agreed slowly. At least she was. Other than her worries over her father, the last few weeks were about the happiest she could remember having.
“Are you wondering how that happy can last? Like, maybe this is the peak and it’s got to all be downhill from here?”
“I don’t want to answer that,” Sage muttered.
“You’re figuring the sex is wild, he treats you like a princess and you both are in basic agreement about everything, right?” Nina waited for Sage’s reluctant shrug before patting her hand and continuing. “But there’s no way that can last. So you’re worried. Even while you fall asleep in his arms with a huge, satisfied smile on your face, you’re trying to memorize the moment because you figure it’s all gonna be gone.”
Sage tapped her fingernail against her plate a few times, took a deep breath, then shook her head.
“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stay the hell out of my head. Friends should let friends enjoy their freak-outs in peace.”
She laughed along with Nina as if it were all a fun joke. But inside, Sage wondered if she’d become a cliché.
This was a fake engagement, with a definite ending that wouldn’t include rings or growing old together or baby names. No ties, no fears, no big boogeyman future to worry about. Just great sex between good friends.
“So?”
“So, what?” Sage asked.
“Cold feet?”
“Yeah,” Sage admitted with a sigh. “Total cold feet.”
Not about her fake engagement, though.
Nope. She had cold feet about her entire life.
* * *
THREE HOURS LATER, she was cozied up in her favorite window seat in her father’s study, staring at her sock-covered feet and wondering what it’d take to warm them back up. Her laptop was on the table next to her, a bowl of M&M’s—red only, today—nearby.
“Sage, darling.”
“Hello, Daddy-o.” Sage greeted him, looking up from her laptop. A quick search of his features and her shoulders relaxed. He looked good. Really, really good. “You’re back from the hospital early.”
“What’re you working on?” he asked, settling into his plush easy chair and giving her an expectant look.
“How do you know I’m working on anything?” she asked, offering him the bowl of candy.
He took a handful, then held up one piece of candy-coated chocolate.
“Red. Energy, right? You always eat red M&M’s when you’re working on a piece you plan to sell.”
“You know me so well,” she said with a laugh.
“I do, I do,” he agreed. “And your momma used to eat hers the same way.”
Sage smiled, always thrilled to hear that she was, in any way, like the mother she’d lost so young.
“Did she teach me to separate them, then?”
“And to designate colors for moods. Yellow for happy, blue for sad.”
“I always think of blue for peace,” she admitted. “It’s easier to ignore the sad.”
He gave her a long, intense look that made her want to squirm.
“You’re distracting yourself,” he observed quietly. “Trying to do as many things as you can to keep from thinking about what might happen to me.”
Do Aiden as many times as she could, was more like it.
Sage swallowed, trying to ease the sudden tightness in her throat. She glanced at her fingers, aglitter with rings and twined together in a nervous knot.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said quietly, finally looking up to meet her father’s eyes. “Words have power. If we don’t discuss it, it’ll have less power. Over me, over the outcome. Over my emotions.”
He gave her one of his patented calm looks. The ones that said he had all the time in the world to wait until she got the problem figured out. He’d worn that expression when she was learning to tie her shoes, learning to drive, talking about boys, recovering from her first hangover. Heck, she was pretty sure he’d worn that look for at least half the days in her life.
That’s what made him so awesome.
She blinked fast, knowing tears weren’t going to help either of them.
“I know, that’s too new-agey for you.” She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “But I’m just not ready to talk about it.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t have to be. He seemed better. He was responding well to treatment. Maybe he’d get through this and they’d never have to talk about it at all.
After a long consideration, her father nodded. He looked a little relieved, too, she n
oted. So, there. She’d just made them both feel a little better.
The tight ball of dread didn’t shift from her belly. It’d been there for two weeks now and she was getting used to it. At least, she was telling herself that. And like not talking about the bad stuff, she figured if she told herself that often enough, she’d eventually believe it.
“Then let’s talk about happier subjects, shall we?” her father suggested, folding both hands over his belly in lecture mode.
Sage automatically straightened, shoulders back and chin up, ready to listen.
“Let’s discuss your future. I’m quite pleased thinking about it,” he told her, his smile backing up his claim.
“My future?”
As in, her and Aiden. Together forever in wedded bliss. Was that the future he meant?
Was today future day or something? They all had their pretty label, why couldn’t it be left at that?
Then she saw the look in her father’s eyes.
That was more than patience.
That was stubbornness.
The same stubbornness she saw in the mirror on a regular basis.
Nerves bounced so hard in her belly, they almost tossed her breakfast right back out her mouth.
Holy crap.
Was he going to talk about babies? Buying a house? Saving for college, retirement plans and oh, God, her getting a real job?
She swallowed hard, pressed a hand to her belly in warning and tried to smile.
Maybe it’d be easier if she got over herself and they talked about his health.
“Yes, dear. Your future. You and Aiden are going to get married. That means you might want to consider some changes.”
Oh, man.
Changes?
She loved changing things.
Her hairstyle. Her address. Her job. Her view.
But only when she was ready. On her whim, when the muse called, when she was bored.
“What kind of changes?” she asked tentatively, afraid to deny him anything.
“You’re going to be building a life together, you and Aiden. Considering your future. Now, I’m not saying you should live here, although Villa Rosa is a lovely town to raise a family,” he said, chuckling. He looked past her shoulder, casting an affectionate smile out the window at the distant view of the town.
She couldn’t quite smile back. Not with all those words swirling through her head. A family? The future?
“Shouldn’t Aiden be here for this chat?” she asked. He was trained to deal with scary stuff.
“No, no. I’m sure we’ll have many a chat, all three of us. But right now I just wanted to talk to you.”
Surprise shooed away some of the nerves in Sage’s stomach.
He’d rather talk to her than Aiden? She’d never felt slighted or overlooked in her father’s relationship with Aiden. Her place in her father’s life and his heart was secure and firm. But, still, this talk was about Aiden. Why wouldn’t her father want him included?
“Don’t you think that soon, after the two of you set the wedding date and make your decisions about settling down, that perhaps it’ll be time for some career changes?” the Professor asked, his smile in place and that bulldog look in his eyes.
Sage squinted, glancing at her laptop and its waiting article, then back at her father.
“I really don’t think I’m a career kind of person, Dad. I mean, I like writing my blog posts and stirring up attention. There are a lot of things that deserve that focus, after all. And the posts, the articles I sell, they are great. But that’s more of a hobby than a career.” She nibbled at her bottom lip, her fingers pleating the fabric of her skirt and she considered her last three or four jobs. “I didn’t much like retail, and while I’m a good barista, there’s only so much coffee I want to serve, you know?”
She waited, wondering if he had a new job or career option he wanted to suggest for her to try. Maybe something with flowers or outdoors. She just might like working with nature.
“I meant Aiden’s career, dear.”
“Oh.”
Ahhhh.
Sage blew out a long breath.
That’s why Aiden wasn’t included in this particular conversation.
“You mean Aiden being a SEAL? You’re worried about the danger?”
“Aren’t you?”
Sage opened her mouth, then closed it. She should be, shouldn’t she? She blinked a few times, trying to figure out why she wasn’t. Finally, she shrugged.
“No. I’m really not. I’m not oblivious to the dangers, but Aiden’s served in wartime and come through fine. I mean, he has a few scars here and there. And sure, his shoulder seems to ache a little when he first wakes up. But that’s the kind of thing any guy who’s led an active life would face.”
“It’s not quite the same as if he were playing weekends sports or putting in his forty hours a week on his feet, Sage. He’s jumping out of airplanes, diving under the sea, chasing down wrongdoers and operating under enemy fire.”
And all of that, except the enemy fire part, sounded wildly exciting. But clearly not to her father.
“I know,” she agreed quietly. “He’s an elite warrior. But that’s the thing, Dad. He’s been through some of the most intensive training there is. On top of that, he’s smart and careful.”
“Is that enough for you? Will that be enough to tell your children when their father is always gone? Gone, and you can’t tell them where?”
No. No, no, no. It was all Sage could do not to press her hands over her ears. Enough with the children talk. She felt safer thinking about Aiden jumping out of an airplane under enemy fire into the ocean than she did thinking about herself raising kids. As flaky as everyone said she was? She was positive Aiden was definitely better at being a SEAL than she’d be at being a parent.
“Dad, that’s way, way in the future. Why don’t we just get through Aiden’s leave, our engagement? You know, celebrate now instead of worrying about tomorrow.” Her toes twitched with the need to hit the floor and scurry out of the room. But she managed to keep her smile calm and cheerful.
The name of the game was making her dad feel good, she reminded herself.
“I know you’d rather not think about the future, Sage. I’m not advising you make plans and act on them today. I’m simply suggesting you begin considering your future. Thinking about what you might like it to be.”
“I’m great at dreaming,” she assured him, leaning forward to pat his hand. “I’ll definitely be thinking about the what-ifs and possibilities.”
There.
A comforting sort of vow that promised nothing. Her specialty. One that had always worked wonderfully in the past in answer to everything from her travel plans to her college plans.
“Ah, yes, you are a dreamer,” he agreed with a smile of his own. Noting the look in his eyes, Sage sighed. She leaned back against the wall and waited. Lecture, life lesson or well-thought-out suggestion. One of them was heading her way. Or, since he was looking particularly chipper, probably all three.
“I suppose you’re spending a lot of time dreaming about your future right now,” he pondered, crossing one knee over the other and wrapping his hands around it with a look of contemplation. “Not wedding contemplation, although I understand that’s a normal preoccupation for young engaged women.”
“The wedding is a ways away,” Sage reminded him, flicking her fingers as if shooing the calendar off her radar. “And I’m hardly the big-traditional-wedding type, Dad. It’s more likely that we’d send you a plane ticket to meet us on a beach for a sunset ceremony at the last second.”
She’d be wearing a sarong, with white flowers in her hair. Aiden would probably insist on wearing his dress uniform, but she was hoping she could convince him to go barefoot with it. After all, the soft white sand would feel so good on his toes.
“Just give me twenty-four hours’ notice, more if the trip requires inoculations,” he advised with a warm smile. “And since you clearly have that figured out, wh
y don’t we discuss what happens after the wedding.”
Oh, God. Sage’s stomach dove into her toes and her pancakes curdled. Please, no. Not a wedding night chat.
“Where will you spend your marriage?”
She squinted. This wasn’t another wedding night chat angle, was it?
“You’re not going to want to bounce from station to station, are you? Waiting around, unable to actually see your husband because he’s off on a covert operation or dangerous top-secret mission?”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like I’ll be twiddling my thumbs or staring forlorn out a window.” Seeing the concern on his face, she searched her mind for something that might settle his mind. Oh, she had it. “I’ve got plenty of things to do myself. Actually, I just got an offer to expand some of my blog posts into a series of articles. The publisher has suggested I become a regular columnist for not only their online, but three of their print publications.”
“That sounds like a big commitment for you.”
Which was why she agreed to no more than a test period. She figured if in four months she wasn’t bored, burned out or disenchanted, she’d take their offer.
“Still, what are the odds of marriage success between two people who see so little of each other?”
“I’m not a settle-in-suburbia kind of girl. If I had to live in a nine-to-five existence, I’d go crazy. So for two people like Aiden and me? I’d say the odds are pretty good.”
If they were really engaged and in love enough to get married, of course. She ignored the ache in her heart and tried a cheery smile.
“For the short term, maybe. But long term? Don’t you think you’d do better if the two of you moved back to Villa Rosa? Here, Aiden can finish his degree, teach at the university. He can finally do justice to that brilliant mind of his.”
“I don’t think that’s what he wants to do, though.”
“But married life isn’t about what each individual wants for him, or herself, dear. It’s about the whole. Society is built on compromise and the greater good.”
