Ed frowned. “Can you do something about it?”
Reluctantly, Nick explained he only had a 49 percent share in the new business, and had apparently been outvoted on a matter he had not even known was up for discussion. “But I’ll make some calls and do everything I can for you,” he promised.
Sage lifted a hand, looking like the down-to-earth hedge-fund heiress she was. “I know a family who owns a chain of jewelry stores in Dallas,” she said, looking from Nick to Ed Durango, and back again. “I know they’re always looking for high-end gifts with a Western flair. Particularly with Father’s Day coming up. Perhaps if I put in a word...?”
“I’d appreciate it,” Ed said, handing over his business card. “I really can’t afford this kind of a loss.”
* * *
“THANKS FOR DOING THAT,” Nick said, when the silversmith had left. “Ed and I go way back. I met him several years ago, when he came to see if I would carry his belt buckles in Monroe’s. The quality is far superior to anything I’ve ever seen, but it was way too pricey for the average cowboy.”
“I’m guessing several thousand per buckle.”
“As a starting point, since they’re all solid silver and hand-engraved, and accented with 14-carat gold. Anyway, that’s exactly the kind of item Upscale Outfitters should be carrying, so when we met with him in Santa Fe we placed a very large order. Enough to carry his company for the year.”
Sage shook her head in sympathy, her heart going out to Nick. “And now it’s been canceled. Without your knowledge. For heaven’s sake, why?”
“MR and the partners decided the store was too Southwestern, so they called in upscale buyers from LA and NYC to consult. They’ve apparently made changes to the inventory. Not with just Ed Durango, but others. MR tasked Everett with sending me a list.” Grimacing, he shoved his hands through his hair. “I’ll have to personally call them all...”
Sage followed him back to the office, where the facts and figures awaited him. “I’m guessing these are all alterations in inventory that you don’t agree with.”
Nodding tersely, he slipped behind the desk and turned on the computer. “Then again, I don’t know that much about what the socialites and inherited-money crowd buys.”
“So you have to trust your partners,” she guessed.
“I’ve put in too much time, effort and energy in this venture not to. But I hate letting the artisans and vendors I’ve personally contracted to do business with down.”
Sage hated to see him betrayed, too. But there wasn’t a whole lot she could do to help. Except be there for him.
* * *
“NICK WENT BACK to Dallas?” Lucille asked the following day, when she arrived to help Sage set up the nursery.
“Early this morning.” Usually he left late Sunday evening, but this time he had delayed until the last possible moment and departed Monday morning. Part of it had been what she sensed was his reluctance to go back and deal with MR and the partners. The other half had been his continuing concern over her and the baby.
“How’s Little One?” her mom asked sympathetically.
Sage sighed. “Still breech.”
Lucille hugged her. “How’s your back?”
With a shrug, Sage admitted, “Always kind of achy and uncomfortable, but the stretching and the prenatal yoga classes are helping.” As was Nick’s doting care. There was literally nothing as heavenly and soothing as one of his back massages. Except maybe a back massage followed by a hot lovemaking session...
Now, if only they could be together more than just the weekend, life might really start to be as perfect as she wanted it to be...
“Ready to get started?” Lucille paused at the sight of the blanket and pillow Sage had forgotten to take off the sofa.
Sage lifted a hand, before her mother could read anything further into it. “I couldn’t get comfortable last night, so Nick finally came out here to give me a little more room.”
Her mother scanned Sage’s queen-sized bed, where the covers were already neatly in place. Stacks of freshly laundered infant wear, blankets and crib sheets laid out.
“Nick’s a big man.”
No kidding. And handsome and sexy and kind and loving, to boot. “Six foot four.” As well as way too big for her bed, even without her pregnant self in it. Casually, she told her mom, “I’ve been thinking about getting him a king-sized bed for Father’s Day, for my apartment.”
It would take up most of her bedroom, but they’d be able to sleep together just as comfortably here as they could at his ranch house. Always a plus. And still have their baby nearby.
“Your apartment,” Lucille echoed, as if she had never heard the phrase.
Sage returned her mother’s odd look. “Yes. The one we’re standing in? You know, the one Dad gave me...”
Her mother did not look any happier.
Sage went still. “What about that bothers you?”
For a moment, she thought her mother wouldn’t reply. Which again, was no surprise, since they had made a promise to each other, when the big scandal with the family foundation had hit the previous summer, to stop arguing so much about inconsequential things, and do their best to simply love and support each other.
Finally, Lucille said, “You want to give each other more furniture? For Mother’s Day? And Father’s Day?”
Why did everyone think it strange Nick had given her a set of ergonomic cooking stools for Mother’s Day? she wondered. What should he have given her? A diamond engagement ring—albeit, a little belated?
“That was a sweet and thoughtful gift, Mom,” she defended hotly. “Mine would show him that I care about his physical comfort, too.”
Lucille shook her head as if that would clear it. “Physical comfort...” she repeated.
“Yes, Mom, what’s wrong with that?” Sage winced at her snappish tone, aware her pregnancy hormones were getting out of whack again. Plus, the stress of the argument was causing her back to begin to ache!
Her mother’s expression gentled. “I know Nick is concerned about you, sweetheart, and that you are equally concerned about him.”
“Good.” Because they were.
“What I’m curious about is, what kind of a Faustian bargain did you make?”
Sage flushed.
Her mother went on, “I never hear you say you love each other. For heaven’s sake, you didn’t even allude to it on your wedding day!”
So what? Sage tried not to huff. “Love isn’t everything, Mom.”
Lucille disagreed. “Then you married for what? Expedience? Propriety?”
Sage really didn’t want to get into this, but since her mother had brought it up, she had no choice but to remind archly, “You were the one who didn’t want me to have a baby on my own, if you remember.”
Lucille laid a hand across her chest. “Because I wanted you to have it all, Sage. The kind of romantic love and friendship that provides a foundation for a solid, enduring family.”
The implied criticism stung.
Sage folded her arms in front of her and propped them on her rounded belly. “What makes you think Nick and I don’t have that?”
Lucille picked up the diaper hanger and began filling it. “The fact that the two of you are still maintaining separate residences, with no apparent plans to merge into one. You still haven’t told me—even now—that you love the man you’ve chosen to have a baby with.”
Sage didn’t know what to say to that.
Because although her feelings for Nick were deep and enduring, she also knew they had promised each other they wouldn’t muddy the waters with impractical, elusive emotions and “fleeting” romance.
She and Nick had sworn they would stay in the best-friends zone. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk changing that at this late date. Not when they both
had a baby they already adored on the way.
Sage picked up a stack of newborn undershirts and carried them to the changing table–dresser. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mom,” she said stiffly, opening the drawer. “Except that what Nick and I have together works. And will continue to work.”
As long as they didn’t change the rules at this late date.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY, Sage walked out of her prenatal yoga class to find MR standing in the hospital annex hallway. Surprised, she walked over to greet the statuesque Dallas executive. “Nick’s not with me for this.”
MR’s glance raked the abundant maternal curves revealed by the clinging leotard and tights. “I know. He’s over at Monroe’s, with Everett and the PR people, getting photographed for the advertising backstory. I wanted a moment with you alone.” MR held out a chai iced tea. “It’s decaf.”
Sage slung her rolled mat over one shoulder, then drew the thigh-length jersey cover-up closer to her body, momentarily forgetting the sultry heat she would face when she exited the building.
“Where would you like to go?” she asked with a resigned sigh.
“I have an air-conditioned car and driver, waiting.”
Like that wouldn’t draw a lot of attention.
Reminding herself this was for Nick, not the venture capitalist who had been making him miserable, Sage forced a smile. “Sounds good.”
They walked in silence among the other pregnant women, until they got to the limo. MR gestured for Sage to go first.
Not sure she wanted to know what her rear view looked like, even with the cover-up, Sage climbed in.
The elegantly thin MR settled opposite her. “As Nick has probably told you, the grand opening of Upscale Outfitters will be on Saturday of Father’s Day weekend. Many local dignitaries and celebrities, including the mayor of Dallas will be invited. The ribbon cutting will be at 9:45 that morning. We’d like your family to attend, Sage.”
“Are you sure?” The store wasn’t that big. “There are a lot of us. Nick has a brother and three sisters, plus in-laws and—”
“We’re only talking the Lockharts, Sage.”
Sage just looked at her, sure MR had to be kidding.
She was not.
MR removed her black eyeglasses. “The Lockharts have ties to the Dallas community, and it’s those very wealthy customers we are coveting.”
“But it’s Nick’s venture. Surely his family should be there.”
“The Monroe clan is ‘small town.’ They’d feel out of place. Plus, they’d add no value.”
With effort, Sage managed not to tell MR what she thought of her. “Have you told Nick this?”
MR smiled tersely. “I was hoping, given your background, and position as his wife, that you could explain it to him.”
“I don’t agree with it. So, no. I’m not going to do that. It’s either both full families are invited,” Sage stated firmly. “Or no one is.”
MR shrugged. “If you choose not to attend...”
Sage lifted a silencing palm. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be there. I will,” Sage told MR firmly. Nick was not just her best friend, he was her husband, and the father of her unborn child. She would support him all the way.
* * *
“SO. WHEN ARE you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Nick asked later that evening as the two of them walked the town green, ice-cream cones in hand.
Sage’d had a craving for hand-churned butter pecan. Nick had selected chocolate almond.
“You’ve practically had steam coming out of your ears all evening,” he continued.
Sage hadn’t realized he had noticed. But then, Nick always realized more than she would have preferred. It was what had initially drawn her to him, and what kept her from completely lowering her guard, too.
He pushed on. “Did MR say something to upset you?”
She always upsets me. But I’m not about to upset you, too. “My lower back is bothering me,” Sage fibbed. For once, it wasn’t.
Nick squinted at her playfully, not fully buying it, but willing to play along—for the moment. “There’s a cure for that, you know,” he drawled.
Oh, she knew. Just thinking about making love with him again made her mouth water and her insides tingle.
“Ice cream first,” she said. Then they could go back to her apartment, or maybe his ranch...
Catching her coveting his chocolate, Nick switched cones with her. For a moment, they savored the flavors in silence. “So what else?” he said eventually.
I’m tired, she was about to fib, when she felt something weird inside her. Very weird, as a matter of fact.
Nick squinted. “Sage?”
She sucked in a breath, took his free hand and put it on her waist, left of her navel. “Feel that,” she whispered.
He went still. “Is that the baby?”
Sage nodded. “Kicking,” she whispered, almost afraid to move for fear she would stop whatever was going on inside her.
“Or punching,” she guessed with a grin. “And that can only mean one thing...”
Nick laughed, triumphant. “Little One is on the move!”
Chapter Twelve
“You’re right,” Dr. Johnson confirmed with a smile during Sage’s checkup, Monday morning “Your baby is no longer in breech position.”
“Which means all is well.” It was all Sage could do not to break out into a happy dance. Beside her, Nick looked just as relieved.
Her obstetrician nodded. “Your weight is also on track, and the baby is growing at a healthy pace.”
Nick, who was standing on the other side of the exam table, squeezed Sage’s hand. Appreciating the way he supported her, Sage squeezed his hand back affectionately, then confirmed cautiously, “So a C-section won’t be necessary.”
The doc paused to make a note on her chart. “Never say never, but probably not, given the way things stand today.”
Sage wasn’t surprised to see that her overprotective husband still remained concerned. “Is there a possibility Little One could go back to a breech position, the same way he or she just turned around?” he asked.
Dr. Johnson paused. “It’s possible, but unlikely. However, if you do feel the baby on the move again in the next day or so, Sage, let us know. Otherwise, the only thing this little tyke will do is grow bigger and heavier, and drop farther down into the birth canal to get ready for the big day.” Which was now less than one month away.
Sage and Nick exchanged glances, giddy with excitement.
“I have another question,” Sage said. And it was an important one. She told the doctor about Nick’s grand opening in Dallas, Father’s Day weekend. “I know it’s a little less than two weeks away from the due date, but I’d like to go.” She drew a bolstering breath. “Can I?”
* * *
MINUTES LATER, NICK and Sage exited the hospital annex. Looking prettier than ever in a summery pale peach dress that brought out the healthy hue of her cheeks, Sage stepped out into the bright sunlight.
Sage shot him a sidelong glance, as determined as he was wary. “I know you don’t agree with my plan, but—” her lower lip slid out in the stubborn pout he knew so well “—you heard what Dr. Johnson said. It will be all right for me to go with you, providing I don’t show any signs of early labor, and am checked by one of the obstetricians in his office the morning of departure, and get plenty of rest while I’m there.”
She came closer, inundating him with a drift of perfume. “He’s also going to give us the name of an obstetrics group and hospital close to the Galleria mall, and fax our records over in advance, so if anything does happen while we’re in Dallas, we’ll have someplace to go.”
Nick knew all that, but it didn’t stop him from worrying. “I do
n’t want you to put yourself or the baby in jeopardy,” he countered, all too aware how life could change in a heartbeat.
She winced as she stopped next to his pickup truck, and paused to rub the small of her back. “I’m not going to do that. I am, however, going to be at your side on what could be the biggest day of your life.”
The three biggest days of his life had already happened. The first time they’d kissed and made love, thereby going from friends to lovers in one lightning moment, the day she had asked him to father their child and the day she had agreed to marry him.
Nick opened the door to let the heat out. Then reached over and massaged the tight muscles she’d been working on until she relaxed in blissful relief.
Sage smiled in the soft contented way she always did just after they’d made love.
His body reacted in kind. He wanted to make her his, then and there.
Sage smoothed a hand across his chest. She looked up at him cajolingly. “Besides, if I were going to go into early labor, wouldn’t you rather I be with you, then two hours away by car?”
She had a point.
One he could not argue.
He had missed the ultrasound and he was sure as heck not missing the birth.
Just as important, this was what she wanted.
“Okay,” he said gruffly, “you’ve convinced me.”
She stood on tiptoe, wreathed her arms about his shoulders, and kissed him soundly. “Come back to my apartment,” she whispered with a seductive smile, “and I’ll let you convince me to do whatever pleases you, too.”
She wasn’t kidding, Nick found out a short time later.
They’d barely shut the door behind them, when she had toed off her flats, unzipped and shimmied out of her dress. Her pretty pink nipples tented the soft cotton fabric of her bra and her matching panties hit just below the enticing swell of her belly.
She came closer, already undoing the buttons on his shirt. “You can say no, you know.”
He laughed at the notion as the blood pooled low. “Not much chance of that, sweetheart,” he told her hoarsely, taking her hand and putting it over his fly.
Wanted--Texas Daddy Page 13
