by Tawny Weber
“You might want to let the politicians know that,” she said with a teasing smile.
When he didn’t smile back, she let her lips droop again.
So much for a distracting clever subject change.
“Aiden is a brilliant man. I’m sure he realizes that marriage requires changes. And he loves you, dear, so he’s going to want to ensure that those changes make you, both of you, happy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He just needs to know what you want, so he can begin making it happen.” Her father paused, the look on his face pure avuncular pride. She had no idea what she’d done to earn it, but for the first time in her life, it scared the hell out of her.
“But what if that’s not what I want?” she asked quietly, terrified that she actually might. How could she want a settled, boring, average life after years of chasing adventure and bliss?
“Think about your future together, about children. There’s so much for the two of you to experience. Wouldn’t it be better if you experienced it together?” Her father paused, then patted her hand. “Just think about it, darling.”
“Of course,” Sage promised, setting her bowl down and pushing her laptop away. Suddenly she wasn’t so hungry. Or interested in writing a brilliant and fun article that might cement her future.
* * *
“DUDE, YOU’RE INSANE,” Gary panted, huffing as he tried to keep pace with Aiden.
“You didn’t have to come along.”
“Since you’ve spent the last week in bed with your fiancée, this was the first shot I had to talk to you. If I’d realized you were insane, I’d have waited until you were through.”
Not at all winded, Aiden easily laughed and slowed his pace to nudge Gary with his shoulder.
“I told you it was a ten-mile run. You said you do that three days a week. So what’s the problem?”
“I do it on the treadmill, in the air-conditioned gym, with the news on TV to distract me,” Gary muttered between huffs.
Aiden laughed again.
It was probably that week in bed Gary had mentioned, but Aiden couldn’t ever remember feeling this good.
Alive, energized.
Happy.
Running along a side road that was mostly dirt, while row after row of grapes lined up like good little soldiers in the fields beyond. Gold and green met the blue of the sky, a brilliant backdrop to a fabulous morning run.
He’d missed this.
He was relaxed here. For the first time, Aiden realized how much tension he always set aside when he came to Villa Rosa. Not because he didn’t have concerns or responsibilities, but because they were different here.
And the ones he had, they were shared.
By the town. By his friends. By Sage and the Professor.
This was the feeling, he realized, of being home.
Where he knew every tree and side road, not because he’d studied and memorized topographical maps, plotting attack and escape routes. But because he’d walked them hundreds of times. The people might not be his best friends, and he’d never count on most of them in a fight. But they all knew him, and he them. There was something comforting in that.
For a man who hadn’t been aware that he needed comfort, it was a weird feeling.
He shot a sideways glance at his running partner. He and Gary had played Little League together. They’d been in the same third-grade class, although Aiden had spent half of his time in the gifted program, and they’d been hard and fast recess buddies. There was a simple camaraderie here with someone he’d known most of his life. An easy acceptance.
His relationships with the other SEALs were tight. Beyond tight, given how hard they worked together, trained together. That they depended on each other for their lives. They were brothers-in-arms. Those relationships were unbreakable.
But they were short-term, too. Teams changed on a regular basis. New assignments, different missions.
“Dude, we gotta stop,” Gary panted.
“Why?”
Gary pointed to the little girl on the corner of a private vineyard. Set back a ways from the street, and in clear view of the house behind, she’d placed a slab of wood over two wine barrels and hung a sign.
“We need lemonade,” Gary huffed. “Desperately. Have to have it.”
“Drinking in the middle of a run isn’t a good idea.”
“That’s my niece. She’s saving up to buy a pony,” Gary said, nodding toward the little girl again. “C’mon. You can help a ten-year-old out, can’t you?”
What were a few potential cramps in the face of a ten-year-old and her pony?
A few minutes, two lemonades and a promise to visit said pony later, and Aiden was halfway in love.
“She’s a pistol,” he told Gary, watching the kid juggle lemons as a floor show.
“Yeah. She’s the image of Darla, my sister. But she’s got her dad’s personality. You ever imagine what your kid’s gonna be like? You? Or Sage?”
“Me or...”
Holy shit.
The idea of a kid—with Sage—suddenly terrified Aiden like no mission, terrorist threat or deadly night maneuver ever had.
“I’ve gotta finish my run,” Aiden said, tossing the cup in the little trash can and giving the pigtailed entrepreneur a smile. “You with me?”
Gary peered up the road, then eyed the house behind his niece. He hung his head and heaved a sigh before giving Aiden a rueful look.
“You kicked my, um, rear, buddy. I’m gonna go see what my sister has for breakfast. Want to join me?”
“I still have six miles to go.”
Gary shook his head, thumped Aiden on the back, then waved toward the road.
“Have at it.”
Aiden grinned, gave the little girl another smile, then had at it.
He was used to running with others. But there was a kind of peace that came with running alone.
Even if he did feel like he was being chased by Gary’s last question.
Him and Sage, having a kid.
What an image.
He didn’t know what was more preposterous.
The idea of his life including a kid.
Or of Sage settling down long enough for that to even come into question.
Not that having kids with her wouldn’t be fun.
He’d never thought about kids before. But now he grinned a little as he ran, wondering if they’d have his brains and her imagination. Her smile, and zest for life. A boy would be great, but a couple of girls would be fabulous, too.
Even more fun would be the making of said imaginary tots.
Just thinking about that kind of activity with Sage got his heart pumping and quickened his breath in a way that a ten-mile—hell, a fifty-mile—run couldn’t.
Especially now that he knew what it was like.
What she was like.
Tasty, imaginative and wild. With so much sweetness, a wicked laugh and a talent for whispering naughty suggestions at just the right time.
Images of their weekend together flashed through his mind, surged through his body. She was amazing. In bed, out of bed.
Just amazing.
Dammit.
Aiden stepped off the road to a patch of grass and dropped to the ground to do fifty push-ups. Gotta send the blood to other muscles. Since he was wearing a pair of navy issue loose gray sweatpants—without a cup—he didn’t figure a hard-on was a good accompaniment to his run.
One, two, three...
It didn’t matter how great the sex was.
That didn’t equate to a future.
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two...
And as great as the dream was, he knew it was just that.
A dream.
Built on wishes and thin air, with as much substance as Sage’s attention span.
Needing to move, not willing to face the emotions crashing over him at the prospect of giving up a dream he had never admitted he had, he jumped to his feet and started running again. He watched the road in front
of him, his running shoes slapping the pavement as if mocking his thoughts.
Here, now, alone in his own mind, he could admit the truth that he’d never share aloud.
He loved Sage. He always had.
He was pretty sure he always would.
She was his fantasy girl, his dream woman.
She was also flighty, flaky and emotional.
Hardly the type of woman who’d make a good military wife. Not that he was interested in a wife. He’d simply paid attention to his friends on the team. First Landon, then Sullivan. Now Lane. They were pairing up like they really believed they could beat the odds stacked against military marriages.
Since that’s what SEALs did, beat the odds, Aiden couldn’t fault them.
He just knew better than playing the game unless he figured he had as good of a shot.
And Sage? She wasn’t marriage material, let alone military-marriage material.
They had now. This crazy, ridiculous fake engagement that was so perfectly Sage. They had to live in the moment, as she’d say.
So he was going to live. And enjoy and revel and bask.
But a future?
A real one?
With Sage?
Not gonna happen.
10
“WHY ARE WE doing this again?” Aiden asked, his grumpy tone melting into the warm evening air.
Because she was in desperate need of a distraction?
Because she hadn’t been able to get her father’s words, or the terror they’d invoked, out of her head or her stomach for three days?
Because maybe an average evening of togetherness with friends would show her how boring this life would be, and she could stop fantasizing about her and Aiden, settling in for their very own happy-ever-after.
He probably didn’t want to know any of that, though. So Sage laughed instead, tucking her hand through Aiden’s arm and cuddling close as they walked up the path.
“Why are we doing what? Going to dinner at a friend’s house? Going together? Or wearing our own underwear instead of each other’s?”
“Please.” Aiden slanted her a chiding look. “Your thong is too small for me.”
“That’s because you’re sooo big,” she drawled, her tone as teasing as the look she gave him in return. He was so fun. She loved this side of him. The relaxed, mellow, not-off-to-fight-secret-battles side.
Maybe her dad was right. Maybe being in Villa Rosa was good for Aiden. Around friends, away from that constant stress and adrenaline overload.
“Seriously. Why the secret dinner plans?”
“Because Nina and her doctor eloped. Cailley and AnaMaria don’t think it’s fair that she missed out on all of the torture they disguise as engagement fun, so we’re here to plan a little post-marriage excitement.”
“That’s why you’re here. Why am I necessary?”
Since he’d frozen on the bottom porch step, Sage had every reason to believe he’d turn on his heel and leave her to go in alone.
For a woman who’d spent almost all of her adult life going her own way, and whose longest relationship had lasted less months than she had fingers on one hand, going in alone was the norm.
But for the first time, the idea of it made her miserable.
She just wasn’t sure if it was the idea of going in alone. Or going without Aiden.
Something to freak out about later, she decided. With all the other freak-outs she was already entertaining. It was getting to be a regular nerve-fest in her brain.
“We need you,” she told him with a wide-eyed look, hoping she came across as earnest. “Nina’s always been the one to plan these things. According to the other girls, she’s the expert and would recognize anything they tried to do. If we’re going to surprise her, we need strategy.”
“Surprise her with what? A girly shower? One of those underwear parties you women are always talking about?” He gave her a horrified look. “Nope, I’m out.”
“What if I promise you naughty sexual favors on the walk home?” she offered.
He gave her his uptight military look. The inscrutable one she figured they taught in SEAL school.
“Fine, I’m in.”
Delighted, Sage was still laughing when their host took their jackets. But it wasn’t until they were halfway through dessert that it hit her.
This was it.
She’d found her bliss.
Not the settled, suburbia image that her father had painted. That still scared the crap out of her.
But this, here...
Friends, laughter, and a deep feeling of contentment pouring through her. The company was great, and the warm comfort of being back home was always welcome.
She could imagine this same scene, anywhere. With other friends, or friends she hadn’t met yet. Different meals, various cities or countries.
Those parts were all interchangeable, all wonderful elements but no one of them was crucial to this feeling inside her heart.
The feeling of joy. Of peace and happiness.
Of love.
It was Aiden that made the difference.
A forkful of molten lava cake halfway to her lips, she stopped and lowered it without tasting to stare at the man next to her.
Engaged in a spirited debate with Gary and Eric over the merits of Chevy versus Ford, he was both animated and relaxed. As if he, too, had found his bliss. Or at least had let go of some of that heaviness he’d been carrying three weeks ago.
This was something she could give him, she realized.
Fun. Laughter and belonging and simple enjoyment.
She wrapped that feeling around her like a soft, warm blanket, cozy and delighted at how fabulous it felt.
The sweetness of it lasted all the way until coffee.
Curled up next to Aiden on the couch, she sipped her second cup and listened to the chatter with a smile.
Aiden had to nudge her to let her know that Eric was asking a question.
“I’m sorry?” she said, offering an apologetic smile as she set her cup on the table.
“What are you doing these days? Are you looking for a job around town?”
She scrunched her nose, barely stopping herself from saying ew.
“I’m good, thanks.” Then, too excited to keep it to herself but not sure she was ready to share such a big step, she admitted, “I’ve got a lot of writing on my blog due in the next few weeks, and a few new projects I’m checking on.”
“Your blog? Are you going to do something on animals again?” Cailley asked. “Those are my favorite. Much better than the ones about addicts. Those just depress me.”
“But do they make you want to help?” Sage asked, arching her brows over her coffee cup.
Cailley’s lips twitched, then she rolled her eyes and confessed, “Only out of guilt.”
“That works.” Sage laughed. Tapping into emotions was the whole point. Emotions motivated people. Maybe she’d do really well with this series of articles. She took a deep breath, wanting their opinion.
Before she could say anything, Gary pointed his cup her way. “You know, you should move away from that crazy stuff you write about and focus on the military.”
Crazy stuff?
Sage bit her lip to keep from launching into a lecture on the many benefits of her making different causes public in her own small way.
It wasn’t that a convivial evening with friends was the wrong place that stopped her. It was the looks on those friends’ faces. Not one of them, not even AnaMaria or Cailley, seemed put out at his description. They all looked indulgently amused. Like she was a precocious kid who did parlor tricks.
For the first time ever, Sage felt self-conscious of her life choices. Did they all really think the things she cared about were crazy?
She couldn’t bring herself to look at Aiden in case he wore the same expression as the rest of them.
Instead, she frowned and asked, “Why would I change my focus to the military? I know there are programs that could use more funding,
like Veteran’s Affairs. But they already get a lot of attention. I’m more the point-out-the-little-guy kind of blogger, you know.”
“Well, sure, that’s what you’ve done before. But now you can get serious,” Eric said. “Do real work, maybe actually make a difference. You know, help Aiden out.”
But she had made a difference.
Maybe she hadn’t shaken the earth with her words, but she’d brought attention to shelters in need of funding or donations. She’d saved animals, helped children get schoolbooks and made connections that meant medical supplies were now readily available in a small village in Tibet.
All her blissful feelings and contentment went poof in a wave of frustration.
“Aiden doesn’t need my help,” she said. She forced herself to look at the man next to her. Did he think the same as everyone else? It was impossible to read him since he had that stoic military expression on his face again. “Do you?”
“I’m pretty well covered,” he said quietly. “You focus on taking care of those homeless dogs and I’ll take care of the military stuff.”
Homeless dogs.
She stared at her coffee cup, willing the tears away. Was that all he saw she did?
Now not only was Sage’s contentment gone, her stomach was churning with misery. She wanted to defend her results, but that’d feel like bragging. Like she was telling them because she needed approval. She’d never cared what others thought of her before. Was that the cost of finding bliss? Suddenly, miserably, trying to live her life for others’ approval?
Maybe bliss wasn’t worth it.
“We had a homeless goat through here last month,” Gary told them as he refilled wine all around. “I had to chase it through the grade-school playground and the market parking lot before I cornered it.”
“That’s what you get for doing all your running on a treadmill,” Aiden told him.
Sage gratefully let her stiff smile fade away as the discussion turned to law enforcement in Villa Rosa. She paid no attention to the talk swirling around her except to smile occasionally while lost in her own thoughts.
It didn’t bother her to be considered flighty or a little eccentric. She readily acknowledged both. But that didn’t mean what she did didn’t deserve respect. Did Aiden feel the same way about her causes as everyone else?
