“I want to save art, Noah, not steal it,” she once told me, almost a year ago. She hasn’t been to the holding room at The Underground since the time I brought her there. She doesn’t want to know what’s there.
She’s never tried to change me, to make me stop and I think I fell in love with her more because of that. Because she loves and accepts me just as I come.
Sayer did, however, make me anonymously donate the paintings we still had from when Baron stole from the Haven Harbor Museum over ten years ago.
She’s back to painting too. Her old bedroom here is now her art room. She’d spend an entire day in there if I wasn’t here to drag her out.
As for Harlow, I haven’t heard a peep since banishing her from the city. I haven’t cared to keep track of where she went or what she’s doing.
As long as she doesn’t cross city limits, I don’t give a single damn at what Harlow Brooks is doing. But if one day Harlow gets cocky enough to come back, she’ll get all seven layers of Hell raining down on her.
“How’s my breakfast coming?” Sayer asks, dragging me out of my thoughts.
I look away from the stove, over my shoulder, seeing her slide into one of the barstools. “You could help, and it’d be done faster.”
“I don’t cook. I drink wine.”
And don’t I know it. I had a pretty well-stocked wine collection before she moved in and she went through more than half of it after only six months of living here.
“Well, go open a bottle,” I tell her. Every Sunday with breakfast we have bellinis.
“Any special request?”
“No. Just pick whatever.”
She nods, looking dejected as she makes the drinks.
What’s wrong with her?
I’m about to ask when she hands me a drink and presses a kiss to my chin. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She smiles and with it the reassurance that everything is fine and I’m being paranoid.
She goes back to the island. Waiting. Grumbling that she’s going to shrivel up and die if I don’t feed her soon.
Finally, her French toast is done. And her face lights up like the city’s skyline as she cuts into the bread. She’s bringing the fork to her mouth when she stops, eyeing me. “What?”
“What?” I parrot back.
“You’re staring at me.”
“Am I not allowed?” I lift a brow.
“Not when I’m trying to eat. Not like that.”
“Like how?” I ask, even though I already know.
“Like you want to eat me.” Her cheeks turn slightly pink with her words and I feel my grin turn wolfish. That’s exactly how I’m looking at her.
“I always look at you like this.”
“I know, but it’s really distracting right now.”
“Why?”
Without a word, she puts down her fork and slides her hands into her hoodie pocket. When she takes them out, there’s something in her hand.
She drops it on the bar between us.
A little velvet black box.
My head snaps to hers. “Snooping in my office again?”
She shrugs, only slightly guilty as I open the box to reveal a beautiful, yet subtle diamond on a simple silver band. The perfect ring to sit on Sayer’s finger. Beautiful, yet understated. Big enough for it to shine a kaleidoscope of colors when it hits the light but small enough to not draw everyone’s attention.
The room is silent, save for my beating pulse as I stare at the ring. I bought it two weeks ago and hid it in my desk drawer. Deep in the back.
I look to Sayer for an explanation.
She shrugs again. “I was looking for a pen.”
I snort, shaking my head, otherwise not saying anything.
“Well?” she prompts.
“Well, what?” I ask.
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” She bats her eyelashes.
I level her a look, letting her see all the emotion I usually keep hidden as I grab the box and slide off the barstool. She watches me with elation, adoration.
“Nope.” I snap the lid closed and shove the box in my sweatpants pocket.
“What?” She jumps off her stool and follows me around the kitchen.
“I’m not asking you.” I go to the sink and start washing the dishes I used to cook.
“What do you mean you’re not asking me?” She doesn’t sound too happy and I look up to find her glaring at me, hands firm on her hips.
“I mean I’m not asking you today.” Maybe tomorrow. But definitely not right now. One of my favorite things is to surprise Sayer and she’s already ruined part of it by finding the ring.
I’m going to propose to her when she doesn’t see it coming because for the last several months, it’s the only thing I can think about. Her. Us. Our future together.
One day I’ll get to call her my wife and maybe expand our family from cat children to real children.
Sayer has opened my eyes to a life I never knew I could have. One full of love and companionship and all these things that didn’t fit into my cold and orderly life before she came back to town and brought chaos with her.
Not liking my answer, she grabs the hose on the sink, spraying me with hot water. “Oops.” She sounds like it was anything but an accident as she backs away from me with a smile.
Without looking away from her, I wipe a droplet away. “Is this any way to treat your future husband?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to say yes now.”
I raise a brow at her, water dripping down my bare chest. “That so?”
She shrugs, backing out of the room. I start after her and she takes off in a run to the stairs.
Laughing as she does.
I chase after her because I know what it’s like to live without Sayer in my life and it’s not a feeling I ever want to go back to.
Hearing me approach, she picks up her pace, which causes her to trip on one of the last steps.
I grab her before she can hit the ground, twisting her in my arms and holding her tightly to my chest.
“Got you,” I growl into her skin as I bury my head in the crook of her shoulder.
Her nails dig into my back. “Never let me go, Noah Kincaid.”
“Don’t plan on it, Sayer Brooks.”
Break Line (a surfer sports romance)
I can’t believe we’re here. At the end. The acknowledgements. For so long I didn’t know if I’d ever get here with this book. Under the Lies is by far the hardest book I’ve ever written. It tested me, pushed me, broke me, stole from me, but in the end it made me stronger. It put me back together. And I couldn’t have made it here without these amazing people.
You, yes you, thank you for picking up this book. For taking a chance on it and me. Whether this is your first book by me or you read BL before. I can’t tell you how much it means for you to read my words, especially these words. Thank you for reading. And if you’ve been waiting for another book from me since BL, thank you for being patient.
Jessica and Lacey. The dedication doesn’t even begin to cover how much you two mean to me. It’s hard to put into words. But I’ll try. You’re the two people who have read every version of this story and still talked to me after. Because of you (and my sheer stubbornness), I didn’t give up. You wouldn’t let me give up. Thank you for being the friends I’ve needed, for putting up with all of my crying phone calls, for putting up with my weirdness and just always being there. The two best friends a girl could have. I love you each to pieces. Never leave me. Seriously. You’re not allowed.
Kandi Steiner. You’re a ray of fucking sunshine and I don’t know if I have all the words to thank you, to tell you how much you mean to me. You’re an inspiration, a force to reckon with, and someone whom I’ve looked up to for years. To now call you my friend and the belief you have in me means so much. More than words can touch. So thank you, for your support, for the laughs and the talks. For the small adventures we’ve been on. For the writing ret
reat on the beach and listening to me talk and whine about this story, I’m sorry I’m such a picky eater! Thank you for reading Lies and loving my words. But most of all, thank you for your friendship. I cherish it deeply. LOVE YOU TO PIECES!
Jeannine Allison. I don’t even know how our friendship really started but now I can’t go a day without talking to you. I could go on and on and on about how much you mean to me and how I treasure our friendship but I’m just going to say this: I TOLD YOU YOU’D LOVE HISTORICAL ROMANCE!
Alex. You’re a pillar when I need someone to lean on, the reason when I don’t see logic. The steady when I feel myself slipping, always telling me I can do this. You’re one of my favorite people. One of the strongest and most caring hearts that I know (don’t argue with me, deep down you know you have a sweet and kind soul). You make me laugh harder and get me in ways that no one understands. You’ve put up with my annoying ass for four years, so how about we go another four? And maybe four more after that? ‘Cause, you know, I’m a barnacle and you’re stuck with me. And because this isn’t sappy enough…I love you, frat boy. Thank you for being you and thank you for everything.
To my amazing editors. Becca Hensley Mysoor and Ellie McLove. Holy shit, I love you both. So much. Becca, thank you for giving this book (and me) the ass kicking it needed. You completely saved it. Saved me. You’re a magical, magical human who has a gift. Thank you for being on my team! Ellie! Oh my goodness. Working with you has been a dream. Thank you for being amazing. Thank you for making this book polished and as perfect as possible. Your feedback has been tremendous and I can’t wait to work together again! Thank you for loving this story (and not firing me lol).
Once again, a huge thank you goes out to Letitia Hasser of RBA Designs and Stacey Blake of Champagne Book for making my books beautiful from the inside out. You two inspire me, leave me in awe and clamoring for our next project together.
To my PR team, Enticing Journey. You’re a dream to work with. Thank you for always making my cover reveals, releases, and tours run as smoothly as possible!
To my amazing betas. Mary, you’re a gem I never want to lose. Thank you for always building me up as I try to tear myself down. Jaimi, you’re my favorite coworker to bother and get food with. Thank you for taking the time out of your hectic life to read UTL and help me shape the final product. Rachel, your insight saved this book. Thank you for pushing me to get this book just right.
Michelle. Oh Michelle. I’m so glad you came into my life. 2018 was such a crappy year, but you are a bright spot. You are my history loving, wine drinking, National Treasure obsessed soul twin. My weirdness digs your weirdness. And I’m so glad to know you.
My family and friends! I’m sorry I’m awful on deadlines. I love you. Forever.
To all my author friends who have made my heart grow so much. Your friendships, your knowledge, your love, your support, they mean so much to me. Thank you for welcoming me with open arms, for believing in me, Krista & Becca Ritchie, Staci Hart, Autumn Grey, R. Scarlett, Giana Darling, Jessica Florence, Jordan Bates and so many more! I love you all to pieces.
To my favorite little coffeeshop with the cutest pup. I’d never been one for writing outside of my apartment/bedroom/parents house before last summer when I needed a change of scenery to make this book work. I went to this coffeeshop I had only been one time prior and it was everything. Exactly what I needed. Thank you to Kelly and all the fabulous baristas who cheered me on, let me talk plot and rant, and gave me shit for never being done. Well, I did it! And here’s too many more projects written in the cutest bunkhouse.
And lastly to the readers, the bloggers, the bookstagrammers, and the book lovers. Thank you for everything you do. For the love you have for books and authors and this community. You make it go round and I’m forever thankful and grateful for you picking up one of my books. You all are rock stars and I’m your biggest fan.
(p.s. if I forgot anyone, know I love you too!)
Sarah E. Green is a Florida girl through and through; she thrives in warm weather and hides from the cold. When she’s not writing at a cute café, you can either find her on the beach, marathoning tv shows, reading, or drinking all the wines and hard ciders with some of her favorite people. She’s a lover of history, mythology, and fluent in sarcasm. She’s a romantic at heart and is always thinking about what HEA to write next.
Follow her on Facebook
Follow her on Instagram
Join her reader group
Under the Lies Page 33
