“Hi. What are you doing here? How did you find me?” I ask as I unlock my office and step inside. He follows me in, shutting the door behind him.
“I’m a pretty smart guy, Millicent.” I discard my things on the floor beside my desk and turn to face him. He’s right behind me, holding open a small paper bag. “Take a whiff, baby doll.”
I arch an eyebrow at him, feeling slightly suspicious, and he encourages me with a nod. I lean closer to him and then draw in a deep breath through my nose. I smell cinnamon and sugar and I know whatever is inside must be delicious. “What is it?” I ask, bringing my eyes up to meet his icy blue stare.
“Brandon’s cinnamon swirl coffee cake. It’s my favorite. He only makes it on Tuesdays. I thought you might like one.”
“That was thoughtful,” I murmur with a small smile.
“I have my moments,” he says before tossing the pastries onto my desk. I blink and then his hands are cradling my head, titling my face up so that he might reach my lips. I stifle a moan when his mouth meets mine, my body leaning into his instinctively. Without thinking, I open up for him. When his tongue grazes mine, he moans, dropping a hand to the small of my back to draw me even closer.
Somewhere, in the back of my head, I remember that there is a narrow window just beside my door—a window anyone could look through and see us right now as we suck, lick, taste. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I know that this isn’t professional in the slightest—but I don’t care. I can’t care. I’ve missed him.
Fuck. I’ve missed him?
When I reach up and circle my arms around his neck, I accept the fact that he’s managed to steal another fraction of my heart. Him being here, going out of his way to search for me and find me, to bring me his favorite pastry, it's the kindest thing any man has done for me in a very long time.
And this kiss—Jesus, this kiss!
The small voice in the back of my head reminds me that I’m not allowed to fall for him—not anymore than I already have. I can’t keep him. He won’t stay. When he finally leaves, I have to be able to keep my shit together, which means he can’t have my heart.
With all my might, I latch onto that truth and force myself to pull my face away from his. I gasp, surprised by how breathless I feel, and watch as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he attempts to catch his own breath.
“Have I told you, yet, how fucking hot you look right now?” he murmurs, his hands sliding down until they rest against the top of my backside. “I wouldn’t learn shit in your class.” I grin at him as I shake my head. “Do you always wear pants to work, doll face?”
“No,” I mutter, scrunching my brow in confusion. “Why?”
“Because,” he speaks softly, dipping his head to kiss my neck. “Your pants make it kind of hard to do what I wish to do to you right now. Maybe next time I drop by, I’ll be in luck.” He licks his way to my ear and then nibbles on my earlobe, making me shutter. Laughter rumbles from his chest as he gives my ass a squeeze and then pulls away from me completely.
I clear my throat, running my fingers through my hair as I try and get control of my damn pussy. I can’t believe he just said that. Now I’m wet and wanting and he’s—he’s sitting on my desk, eating a cinnamon swirl coffee cake. He smirks at me when I look over at him and holds out the bag with the remaining treat inside. I snatch it away from him and plop down in my chair. Reaching inside, I pinch off a bite and drop it on my tongue as I look back over at him.
This time, I don’t even try holding back my moan. It tastes even better than it smells.
“Good, huh?” I nod, breaking off another bite. “I knew you’d like it. And—speaking of food, I thought I’d let you pick where you wanted me to take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he says with a cool shrug. “I don’t really know what you like. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
I pause for only a moment, but it doesn't take me long to come up with my answer. “Giuseppe’s.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he chokes on his bite of cake at the sound of my answer.
“What? You have something against Italian cuisine?”
He pounds his chest and clears his throat as he shakes his head at me. “Italian blood runs in my veins, baby. I practically grew up on Italian cuisine. I just—I don’t know. I didn’t expect for you to say that.”
“I grew up in Jersey. There was this one Italian restaurant I would go to a lot. It’s one thing I actually miss about home. Giuseppe’s is a close second.”
The words are out before I can think through my admission. I don’t know why I told him that. I don’t talk about my life back in Jersey—not with anyone.
“Alright,” he says with another shrug. “You sure that’s your favorite place?”
“Yes, Sage, I’m sure,” I reply, both amused and confused by his reaction.
“Okay, then. That’s where I’ll take you. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay.”
He pops the last bite of his cake into his mouth as he checks the time and then stands to his feet. “I’ve got to jet. The guys and I are auditioning a couple bass players this afternoon. Wish me luck?”
“Good luck,” I say, and mean it.
He leans down and presses a quick kiss against my lips. “Thanks, doll face.” He kisses me one more time before he heads for the door. “Don’t work too hard.”
“Oh, I will,” I chuckle. He looks back over his shoulder as he steps back into the hallway and offers me a wink. “Wait, Sage?” I ask, standing from my chair. He stops and leans into the room, bracing his hands on either side of the doorframe. “Thank you—for the coffee cake.”
“Any time, gorgeous.”
I WAKE WITH A start, sitting bolt upright as I search for my clock. I squint, in need of my glasses as I look to the wall to see what time it is. I barely make out that it’s a quarter after nine. “Shit,” I mutter, jumping out of bed. I must have forgotten to set my phone alarm before I was knocked out. It was a rough night.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I open my bedroom door and spot that no one is in the bathroom. Then, I waste no time before hopping in the shower. I make sure to grab my toothbrush along the way. As I wash my junk, I scrub my teeth—who says men can’t multitask? I’m headed back to my room, a towel around my waist, when I run into Violet. In little more than one of JJ’s t-shirts, she emerges from his bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Her short, blonde hair is a mess from sleep and I can’t help but chuckle. She’s kind of cute first thing in the morning.
“Hey,” she grumbles. I know that she didn’t have nearly as much to drink last night as the rest of us, in her attempts to stay sober enough to mediate the fucking Mountains & Men pity party, but I can tell she feels the effects of last night, too. “Oh, good. You’re up.” She yawns. “I wanted to check. I know you said you had someplace important to be this morning.”
“I do. Thanks for checking. I have to move my ass if I don’t want to be late, though.”
“Mmm. Yeah. Don’t let me keep you,” she mumbles, shooing me away with her hand before she closes herself in the bathroom.
God. Sometimes, I don’t know what we’d do without that girl. She belongs to JJ, but she looks out for all of us. Shit—she’s one of us.
It takes me two minutes to throw on some clothes. I slide my glasses on my face and, not even bothering with my hair, I scoop up Maestro and head downstairs. I let him out back, giving him the chance to do his business while I fill a bag with some food for him and grab his leash. When I call him inside, he’s obedient and comes running. He follows me through the house and out the front door to my car, jumping in when I open up the passenger side for him. I know I’m running late, but I decide to make a quick pit stop. I’m sure she’ll forgive my tardiness if I bring her a peace offering.
Ten minutes later, I’m jogging into Little Bird, begging the powers that be that there isn’t a line a mile long. Just my luck, Tabitha and
Brandon are both behind the counter. By the looks of the full lobby, I just missed the craziness.
“Hey, Sage. What’s up?” asks Tabbi.
“I need a sixteen-ounce soy, caramel latte—extra hot and as fast as possible. I’m late.” I rattle off my order and then offer her a pleading grin.
“Coming right up,” she hums, returning my smile with a flirty one of her own.
The girl has it bad. Not to sound like a prick, but it’s completely true. I try not to encourage her. She’s cute and all, but I don’t bag my co-workers. I thought about it once. Then, for a split second, I imagined having to work with her day after day and the awkwardness of her wanting more and me wanting nothing. Until recently, I liked to keep my options open. I preferred my hook ups to be simple with no strings attached. Tabbi’s nice, but I knew she’d come with one big ball of string.
“You’re not a soy man,” says Brandon as he rings me up. “You going to see your sister?”
“Yeah. Sophia has a doctor’s appointment this morning. I think she needs to get shots or some shit like that. Anyway, Harry’s at work and she didn’t want to have to take the boys, so I told her I’d watch ‘em.”
He lifts his eyebrows at me and then turns to grab a cup. He fills it with black coffee, slaps on a lid, then slides it to me across the counter. “No offense, but you look like you could use that.”
I chuckle, immediately grabbing his offering, prepared just the way I like it. “Thanks, man. Rough night.”
“Millie?”
I shake my head once. “Whiskey. Auditions didn’t go as well as we’d hoped. If we don’t find someone by the end of the week, we’re up a fucking creek. We need someone who knows his shit backwards, someone committed, someone who fits.”
“You know…” he pauses, folding his arms across his chest as he strokes his chin. “I might know someone.”
“Don’t mess with me man,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee.
“No, I’m serious.”
“And you’re just telling me about this now?”
“Sorry,” he laughs. “It just clicked. Name’s Alex.”
“Well, give Alex my number. That is, if this Alex character has what it takes.”
“Trust me. You won’t be disappointed. I can’t believe I didn’t think of connecting you two before. I’ll pass along your number for sure.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Who’s Millie?” asks Tabbi, sliding my sister’s finished drink across the counter.
I look to Brandon and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “A friend,” I answer simply.
“Oh, did you decide where you’re taking her tonight?” Brandon asks.
“She wants to go to Giuseppe’s.”
“Wait—what? Isn’t that—?”
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug, backing my way to the door. “I know. But what the lady wants, the lady gets.”
“Good luck, kid,” he calls out with a laugh.
Even though my hands are full, I still manage to flip him off—with both middle fingers—as I join in his laughter. “I’ll see ya.”
Fifteen minutes later, when I pull up to the Montgomery residence, already feeling the rejuvenating power of my cup of Joe, I hurry to the front door. I ring the bell and wait with Maestro on the porch, preparing myself for Pepper’s wrath in response to my tardiness. Instead, I’m caught off guard when I’m greeted with a smile.
“Somehow, I just knew ten a.m. on your day off would be a bit of a struggle for you. Oh, is that for me?” She opens the door, handing me my beautiful niece as she takes the latte. “Mmmm,” she hums after her first sip. “You love me.” She sighs and then nods for me to follow her inside.
“Um, what’s going on?” I ask, confused. I step into the house and watch as Maestro goes charging for the noise. The boys are obviously in the next room playing.
“I don’t have to leave until ten-thirty. So you’re not fifteen minutes late, you’re fifteen minutes early.”
I gape at her for a moment as she turns to smirk at me in the entryway of her home. “Christ, Pep. I busted my ass getting here.”
“I appreciate it. Now you have a few minutes to chat with your big sis. And watch your language, for crying out loud. My precious girl can hear, you know?”
I smile down at my niece, barely over a month old, who looks up at me with her pretty brown eyes. I press a gentle kiss against her forehead, amazed at how much she looks like Pepper. “Sorry, Soph.”
“Kitchen,” says Pepper with another nod. “Don’t let the boys see you.”
We sneak by the living room, where the boys are busy with Maestro, and head into the kitchen. They love my French bulldog; so much so, they haven’t connected the dots that if he’s here, so am I. Once we’re out of sight, Pepper leans against the counter and looks at me intently from over the rim of her cup.
Unlike Rosy and me, she inherited more of our father’s features. Her skin is milky white, and her shoulder length hair, worn back in a ponytail more times than not these days, is a dark reddish brown color. While Rosy and I both have blue eyes, Pepper got mom’s brown eyes. When we were younger, she used to complain about how different she looked from her younger siblings, but she got over it. She’s beautiful, even now—soft around the edges after giving birth to her third child. She amazes me, really. Except, at the moment, that look in her eye has me feeling more suspicious than anything else.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“So, I talked to Rose yesterday. She had quite the interesting story to tell me.”
“Oh, good god!” I groan, rolling my eyes.
Pepper laughs, her amusement lighting a twinkle in her eye. “We won’t talk about it,” she assures me, for which I am grateful. “But as a fair trade, you have to tell me something. One girl—four weekends. That’s pretty impressive.”
“I told you. I want her.”
“So it’s going well? She’s over the age thing?”
“We’re working on it. I’m taking her out tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asks, lifting her eyebrows at me. “Where?”
I clear my throat once before I respond. “Giuseppe’s.”
She immediately covers her mouth with her hand, but it does nothing to silence her gasp. “You are not taking her there.”
“It’s where she wants to go. It’s her favorite place. What was I supposed to say, no?”
“Oh, Sage. You do want her, don’t you?”
We’re interrupted by a high pitched scream followed by crying. Pepper sets her coffee down, all thoughts of Millie and Giuseppe’s fleeing her mind as she starts for the next room.
“Wait—no, no,” I insist, handing her Sophia. “I got it. You get her ready to go.”
“You’re sure?”
I give her my best, oh, please, expression. “I’m Uncle Sage. I got this.”
As soon as I walk into the room, Carter, my two-year-old nephew, looks over at me and instantly stops crying. I can’t help but chuckle as I drop to my hands and knees and crawl toward him and Henley, my four-year-old buddy. I reach out to wipe away Carter’s alligator tears and he smiles at me before he starts chatting. Whatever was bothering him before, it’s certainly not bothering him now.
Like I said. I’m Uncle Sage. I got this.
BY SOME MIRACLE, I manage to get through my entire work day without being cornered in a room by Lindsey. I know the day is coming. I know she’ll have endless questions about Sage—my admirer. I haven’t dated anyone since I started working at the college. The last guy I was silly enough to fall in love with left me just before my very first class.
Literally. Right. Before.
Needless to say, I haven’t had anyone to talk about. Neither am I a woman who kisses and tells, so it’s not as if she’s heard about every single one-night stand I’ve had over the past two years. I’m sure seeing Sage waiting for me at my office speaks volumes in her mind.
Then again, to say that it doesn’t speak vo
lumes in my own mind is a lie unworthy of the effort. The same goes for denying the anxious anticipation that has my stomach tingling as I finish my makeup. I’m excited to see him. There’s no point in lying about it. No one would believe me, not even myself. He texted me earlier, warning me what would happen if I backed out at the last minute. When I assured him I wouldn’t, he told me he’d spank me anyway, if I so desired.
I have to take a deep breath, pushing aside all thoughts of him bending me over the couch…
My tongue glides across my glossed lips as I close my eyes, losing the battle against my memory.
Smack!
“That's for saying I have the maturity level of a fifteen-year-old.”
Smack!
“That's for ignoring my calls.”
A shiver races down my spine as my eyes flash open. Looking at myself in the mirror, I notice my cheeks are flushed, as if he fucked me five minutes ago.
“Fucking hell,” I cry out, cupping my hands around my face. “What is happening to me?”
Just then, a knock sounds at the door, making my heart race—and therein lies my answer.
Sage. Fucking Sage McCoy is happening to me.
For a moment, I don’t move. My reflection is like a bright neon sign, warning me that I’m doomed. With every day that goes by, I want him a little more. Right here, right now, I could cut my losses. I could tell him that I can’t do this. That I can’t be exclusive. That I can’t be his doll face. But in truth, I can feel my body rebelling against the thought. I can feel his pull from beyond the barrier that’s keeping him out of my apartment right now. I practically came, just seconds ago, remembering how good it feels to be owned by that man—that twenty-one-year-old man with a voice of a rock star and a body of a god.
I am his doll face, his baby doll, his gorgeous girl…
I am Millicent, the woman with the fractured heart, never to be whole again; and that bastard is chipping away at me, piece by piece.
“Doll face?” he calls through the door, banging a little harder.
I take another deep breath, nodding at my reflection—silently assuring myself that I will survive this fall. I will. Then, without looking back, I hurry to meet him. When I open the door, his face goes from flustered to relieved to stunned. I watch as his eyes travel from my head to my toes and then back up again. I can feel the heat that spreads across my chest and up my neck, and I curse my body for being so damn transparent.
Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2) Page 6
