Wilde For You (The Wilde Sisters Book 3) (9 page)

Luke took her hand, which had been waving through the air. “Everything is perfect.”

“Excuse me. Are you Luke’s…friend?”

“I’m Sage Wilde. You must be Mrs. Riley. I’ve heard so much about you. Happy birthday.” Sage slipped her hand from Luke’s to shake Doreen’s.

“I hear you’re the one to thank for my party.”

“I helped organize it, yes. My job was to listen to Luke and make sure the party was catered to you and your likes.”

“Really?” His mother turned toward him with a twinkle in her eye. “What were your special touches, son?”

Tapping his hand against his leg, Luke looked around the room. “Did you like the mashed potato martinis? Those were pretty good, huh?”

“They were, but you would have suggested baked potato with butter, salt, and pepper.”

He bounced on the balls of his feet and tried to scrutinize the room through Sage’s eyes.

“He knew your favorite colors were purple and yellow.” Sage to the rescue. “And while Luke couldn’t tell me the names of flowers, he definitely knew what you would and wouldn’t like.”

“I’m just giving my boy a hard time,” she said, lightly tapping his cheek. “I’m glad he had enough sense to call you, but he should have told you I’d be mighty happy with a houseful of family and close friends and just enough bread and water to fill our bellies.”

“To tell you the truth, Mrs. Riley—”

“Please. Call me Doreen.”

“To tell you the truth, Doreen, Luke’s first choice was potluck at your place, but he came to his senses and realized that a woman who has touched so many lives and accomplished so much in only sixty years deserves the best.” Luke smiled, his heart clenching. She was damn good at her job.

“And so he called you.”

Rather than reply aloud, Sage smiled sweetly. It was half professional, half all-knowing.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on a few things in the kitchen.” Sage turned and glided through the room, ignoring Luke.

“Luke Robert Riley. When were you going to tell me?”

“The point of a surprise party is not knowing until you arrive.”

“Not the party, dummy.” Doreen smacked his arm. “When were you going to tell me you got the girl pregnant?”

He opened his mouth and shut it before any sound came out. How much information should he divulge?

“You’re going to marry the girl.”

“You’re getting married?” Graham snuck up behind him and pounded Luke on the back. “Congratulations, man. Is it the hot party planner girl?”

“I’m not getting married,” Luke said between gritted teeth.

“You got the woman pregnant. You do the right thing.”

“You got Sage pregnant?” Lucy laughed as she joined the conversation. “Oh, this is good. I’m no longer the fu—” she looked at their mother and corrected, “messed up one.”

“
I
didn’t get her pregnant,” he growled. His family had circled around him. Luke tugged at the collar of his dark blue shirt; the thick line of sweat dripping down his back would be evident in seconds.

“Someone else got your girlfriend pregnant? Ouch.” Blake cringed and smirked over the top of his beer.

“Are you kidding me? All that’s left is—” Luke stopped when Rachael joined the group.

“You all better not be talking about me behind my back. I’m not a poor helpless girl, but I don’t want to deal with any of my crap right now.”

“Not you, Rach. It’s Luke. He’s getting married.” Graham smirked.

“His girlfriend is pregnant.” Lucy laughed.

“But it’s not his kid,” Blake finished.

“Holy crap, Luke. And I thought I had problems.” Rachael, the only sweet sibling, stood on her tiptoes and hugged him. Luke welcomed the hug, but needed to rectify the situation.

“A, I’m not getting married. B, the baby isn’t mine. C, it’s a long story, so shut the hell up—sorry Ma—and mind your own business.”

His brothers and sisters slapped him on the back, calling out congratulations as they laughed and walked away. “Luke.” Oh, he knew that tone. It meant come clean now or forever hold your peace.

Taking his mother’s hand, he led her to a quiet corner and pulled out a chair for her. He pulled out another chair and sat close so no one could overhear. “Yes, Sage and I are dating. I knew she was pregnant before we got together but it’s not what you think.” Doreen wasn’t one to interrupt. She played the silent role extremely well. Having six kids and a revolving door of temporary foster kids taught her how to get the most information out of someone. Sit, wait, stare. So she did.

“Sage’s sister can’t have kids. I don’t know the medical lingo, but her uterus can’t carry a baby so Sage offered to be a surrogate. The baby is her sister and her husband’s; Sage is just carrying it. Them. She’s having twins at the end of the summer. Crazy, huh?”

Doreen’s eyes filled and spilled. The woman never hid emotion. Luke picked up a linen napkin and dabbed his mother’s cheeks. “If I had a sister,” she started, taking the napkin from Luke and wiping the tears herself, “and she offered to carry my baby, I’d…I don’t know. I can’t imagine. What a wonderful, beautiful gesture. I hope Sage’s sister realizes that.”

“I hope so too. Sage shrugs this off as if anyone would have done the same, but I doubt it. She’s not one who likes to call attention to herself so please don’t make a big deal about it, okay?”

Luke knew it would be a big deal to his mother. The reason she adopted so many children was because she couldn’t carry her own child. Already Sage went to the top of Doreen’s favorite people list.

And she was pretty high up on Luke’s list too.

***

Sage

“You seem…different.” Rayne spread peanut butter on a piece of whole grain bread and added slices of banana.

“I’m pregnant.” Sage grabbed the rest of the banana, eating it in two bites before shucking the peel in the trash.

“It’s not that.” Rayne cut the crust off the sandwich and placed it on the tray to Olivia’s high chair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sage dipped her finger in the jar of peanut butter and licked it clean.

Laughing, Rayne pulled the jar out of Sage’s reach. “Want me to make you a sandwich?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Mm-hm.” Rayne made two more sandwiches, put one on a napkin and slid it across her kitchen counter to Sage, and took a bite out of the other one. “Me either,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I think you like being pregnant.”

“Hell no. I’m hungry all the time. I have to pee every four seconds. I don’t fit into any of my clothes and I get heartburn every night.”

“But the sex is great.”

“Yeah. That’s for sure.”

“Ha! I knew it. You’re in love.”

Sage choked on her sandwich and looked around for a drink. She swiped Olivia’s sippy cup off her tray and sucked down piss-warm water. “What the hell are you giving your kid? This is disgusting.”

“It’s watered down apple juice. I don’t want her to inherit Trent’s sweet tooth.”

“See. This is why I’m never having kids.”

“About the guy.”

“There is no guy.”

“So you’re having sex with a woman?”

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“And you have a glow.” Rayne poured two glasses of water and slid one across the counter to her sister.

“Don’t you dare say it’s a pregnancy glow. That’s all bullshit. My hair is growing faster and I have zits again.”

“No. The glow I see is not from pregnancy. It’s the same look I had when I fell for Trent. The same look Thyme gets around Grayson. Who’s the guy? The firefighter?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Sage picked up her water and drank half the glass before setting it down. “It’s just lust. He’s hot. He wants sex. I want sex. No strings. No relationship.”

“Does he know that?”

“Of course. We established ground rules and a timeline.”

“A timeline? I can see you making one, but he agreed to one too?”

Sage shrugged and crumpled her napkin. “I’m getting bigger every day. Pretty soon I won’t be able to walk. Having sex is definitely going to be off the table. When it’s over it’s over.”

“So he’s just in it for the sex?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re just in it for the sex?” Rayne ran a cloth under the faucet and wiped Olivia’s face and fingers, gently kissing her nose before lifting her from the highchair. “Have you gone out to dinner with him?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re going out on dates?”

“No. Yes. Rayne, don’t make something out of this. I typically meet a guy for drinks before sleeping with him.”

“Does sexy firefighter sleep over?”

“No,” she lied.

“Trent never slept over either. He’d leave at three in the morning. That was his way of making sure I didn’t think we had a relationship. But he went to work at four a.m. so in my book I considered it sleeping over.”

Sage didn’t respond but pondered over her sister’s words. When Luke worked normal hours he’d come by straight from work. Most of the time she was already in bed asleep. Some nights she’d wake and they’d have sex, other nights she never woke up until her alarm. Having early morning appointments, she’d get up, shower, and leave, Luke still naked and sleeping in her bed.

They’d fallen into a routine since his mother’s party. She kept busy during the day and when their schedules allowed, they’d go out to dinner. Or breakfast. Or lunch. Or have a quickie in between appointments.

“Our relationship is purely sexual. I’m not in love with Luke, nor am I falling in love with him. I don’t do love. I hate love.”

“You’ve met his family,” Rayne said as she wiped the highchair clean.

“Only because he hired me to plan the freaking party. I’ve never seen any of them since.”

“Why do you do this to yourself, Sage? You deserve happiness.”

“I am happy.”

“No. You’re content. Why do you hold yourself back? Your heart. Your soul. Whatever the heck you want to call it. Why do you keep part of yourself off-limits? If you hold yourself back you’ll never fall in love.”

“I didn’t come here for psychoanalysis. Not everyone wants the marriage, the two-point-five kids, and the yuppity house.” Sage tossed her napkin in the trash, gave her niece a gentle noogie, and gathered her purse and keys.

“I’ve always been honest about what I want and what I don’t want. And so has Thyme. So what is it that you want, Sage?”

And that was the million dollar question. For years Sage thought she knew. To be independent. Have a career. Not depend on anyone else for her happiness. But she was slowly realizing that she wasn’t happy without others in her life.

“Hot, steamy sex,” she lied and bolted out the door.

Chapter Eight

Sage

Sage’s heartbeat matched the numbers on her speedometer as she drove to Luke’s house. All of their sexual interludes had taken place at her condo. Her territory. Somehow her pregnancy hormones had taken over all logical thought and she’d agreed to dinner at his house.

Pedro, her GPS, told her to turn left on Turkey Hill Road. The road was long and winding past farms separated by fields and woods, some small, some sprawling. Pedro warned her of an upcoming turn on to Meadowbrook Lane, so she slowed and took note of the Dead End sign.

Ironic? Symbolic? Sage was in no mood to make a big deal over nothing. Pedro announced her destination on the right and she pulled into a long dirt driveway, noticing the quaint log home in the distance. Very private. Not what she expected. Not what she felt comfortable with. The house could scream family or bachelor. Only the inside would tell. She hoped for the latter.

Luke stood on the farmer’s porch, a black long-sleeved t-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and biceps, a dishtowel hanging over one shoulder, a combination of rugged and domestic. Rustic outdoorsmen weren’t her type, but there was something about him that made her lady parts scream and her heart clench, and it scared the hell out of her. She’d need to remain in control. Of her heart. Of her soul. Of whatever it was that Rayne was talking about last week.

After turning off the ignition, she carefully slid her keys into their designated spot in the side of her Dolce and Gabbana purse, unplugged her charging phone and slid it into the side pocket, and swiveled her legs to the left. Pretty soon she’d need a fork lift to help her get her out of her car. Or one of those easy chairs that elderly people used to help them up. Grasping onto the door, she pulled herself up and smoothed her chocolate pencil skirt.

Her growing belly didn’t fit into any of her tailored slacks but she could pull some of her skirts up over her stomach. Granted, they made the skirts a few inches shorter, but she’d never been a modest woman.

The end of March brought warmer temperatures, melting snow, and muddy driveways. Not leaving the front porch, Luke leaned against the railing, his bulging arms crossed over his chiseled chest, a knowing smirk on his face. Sage looked down at her teal heels and took in the gravel, pockets of water, and thick mud.

“I’d offer you a hand, but I know how you feel about being a damsel in distress,” Luke said from the porch.

Gucci platform pumps may not have been the shoes to wear out to the country, but she had back-to-back-to-back appointments in Portland—where the streets were paved—and didn’t have time to change. The fact that she may have dressed this morning with her date in mind more than her appointments didn’t need to be revisited.

“I didn’t know you lived on a farm. I would have worn my rain boots.” Not that she’d have worn her pair of red Kate Spade rain boots. She didn’t like to wear them in bad weather and chance them getting dirty.

Luke laughed and stepped out from the porch. “Need a hand?”

“No. Thank you very much. I can walk on my own. I’m not an invalid.”

Closing the door to her car, she walked on tiptoe, locating the least messy route to the front door. Before she made it to the first step her ankle gave out and she tumbled forward. Two strong arms stopped her fall as she banged her head off a wall of steel. Superman to the rescue. Again.

“Easy, honey. Are you okay?” Luke’s hands gripped her arms as he pushed her back so he could assess the damage.

“Your driveway sucks. You should have it paved,” Sage huffed and pulled out of his grasp.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Of course I’m fine. People trip. They deal with the embarrassment and move on.” Sage drew her hand up his chest and pulled the kitchen towel off his shoulder. “Now tell me, handsome. What’s for dinner? Or did you want to start with dessert?”

Luke studied her, his eyes smoldering as his dimple made its grand entrance. “You’re going to have to work a little harder for dessert, sweetheart.” He took her hand and guided her up the steps to his humble abode.

Oh, tonight will be fun.

His house was a blend of bachelorhood and family. A giant stone fireplace ruled the living room, giving it a rustic feel, and a flat screen television was mounted above the mantel that was filled with pictures of his various brothers and sisters. The kitchen had a lived-in feel to it. Luke knew his way around the black granite counters and stainless appliances. There were gadgets in a jar by the stove that Sage couldn’t begin to name.

They enjoyed a meal of foreplay. Sage slid her bare foot up Luke’s leg while they ate a spinach, cranberry, and walnut salad. Luke trailed his hand and lips up and down Sage’s arm while she tried to gracefully sip her French onion soup. And Sage upped the ante by puckering her lips and seductively blowing on every bite of mashed potato and roasted chicken, even though the food was no longer hot.

They occasionally broke the mood by laughing over stories Luke shared from the fire station. She asked him questions, he elaborated with funny anecdotes.

“So what about you? What’s your funniest work story?” Luke continued to touch her. His leg brushing her knees, his hand toying with her hair, which she could now push behind her ears. Unlike her sisters, Sage never found touching and hugging important. More so an obligatory thing to do when her sisters shared good news or bad, or during a romp in a man’s bed. Foreplay was never necessary, a nuisance Sage didn’t have time to plan into her busy schedule.

Yet even with their often conflicting schedules, Luke never missed an opportunity to flirt, to play, to build up the sexual tension until they were both ready to explode. She could tell he didn’t mean for his touches to be sexual right now as they talked about family and work, yet every time his hands slid across her body, whether it be her breasts or her kneecaps, she had an uncontrollable desire to strip his clothes off and lick a trail from his lips to his abs. And even further south. Something she never had the desire to do before.

“I don’t have stories to tell. I work alone and deal with clients who are planning events.” She sipped her iced tea and changed the subject. “Is it time for dessert yet?”

“So tell me your favorite childhood memory.”

They were nonexistent unless you counted the times she busted Thyme coming in late on a school night. “I’d rather make some memories in that big bed of yours.” She stood and reached for Luke’s hand, but he pulled her down on his lap.

“Or we can have dessert at the table. That works for me too.” Sage slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Normally she didn’t have trouble coaxing his mouth open, but Luke’s lips remained closed, his eyes open, watching her. He didn’t break eye contact when Sage pulled back.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Talk is overrated, cowboy.” She slid her hands under his shirt and felt him flinch.

“Tell me about your sisters.”

“Sorry. They’re both happily married.”

“I’m not interested in
them.
I’m interested in
you.
And your sisters are a large part of your life.”

Sliding off his lap, Sage straightened her skirt. “We agreed on sex. Not emotions, feelings, and…this.” She waved her hand over the table and at the leftover food on the counter.

“I don’t remember that agreement. I remember asking you out a dozen times and getting rejected.”

“Exactly. I don’t want
out
, I want sex. Before I can’t have it anymore.”

“Why won’t you be able to have it anymore?” Luke stood, trapping her between his enormous lumberjack body and the counter.

“Have you seen me lately?” She placed her hands on her stomach.

“Yes, I have.” Luke’s hazel gaze remained locked on hers as he lifted his hands to cup her face. She couldn’t handle the smoldering look he gave her. It didn’t scream
sex
like previous looks. It screamed
relationship
and
heartbreak
.

“Luke, I—”

A loud knock on the front door sounded seconds before it opened.

“Anyone home? Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know you had company.” Lucy sauntered into the kitchen, a devilish grin on her lips.

“The black car in the driveway didn’t give you a clue?” Luke turned and scowled at his smiling sister.

“Smells good.” She picked up a lid on the stove. “Date night chicken and French onion soup. Mind if I have the rest?” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bowl before Luke could respond.

“Lucy. I have company,” he growled.

“I know. Hey, Sage. How’s it going?” Lucy got a spoon out of a drawer and made herself at home at the table. “Don’t let me interrupt. Carry on.” She waved her spoon as if dismissing them and started slurping her soup.

Sage burst out in laughter. “God, you’re priceless.” Ignoring the intruder, she picked up the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked.

“I’m cleaning up. You cooked. I clean. Only fair.”

“Aww, how sweet. And domestic. I didn’t peg you as the type,” Lucy said from the table.

Again, the girl’s audacity made Sage laugh. Lucy reminded Sage of herself at the age. And even today.

“Lucy,” Luke warned.

Sage patted Luke’s arm. “I’ve got this,” she whispered to him, handed him the dishrag, and joined Lucy at the table.

“So what’s your problem?” Sage asked.

“Me? No problem. Just wanted something to eat. Luke always has extras.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t you have other brothers and a sister to pick on?”

“They’re no fun.”

“They poke and prod and try to psychoanalyze the giant-ass chip on your shoulder, right?” Lucy stopped slurping and put her spoon down as Sage continued talking. “But Luke just takes your shit and doesn’t try to change you. So you’ve taken on the role of protector. Trying to ward off all the girls. I bet you scare most of them.”

Lucy leaned back in her chair, tipping the front legs off the floor. “Now you sound like you’re trying to shrink me.”

“Nope. I’m not asking what your problem is. I don’t really care. I’m just calling you out.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Make yourself at home. There’s leftover chicken in the oven. Luke and I are going to his room to have dessert.” Sage walked over to Luke and grabbed his arm, pulling him down the hall.

“His room is upstairs!” Lucy called from the kitchen.

Sage stopped and looked at Luke, a smile tugging at his lips. “This way.” He chuckled, leading her through the kitchen again and around a corner to stairs that she didn’t see when she entered the house.

They didn’t miss the laughter coming from downstairs or the front door opening and closing shortly after.

“I’ve never heard Lucy laugh like that before.”

Sage ignored Luke and lifted his shirt over his head. While he pulled his arms out, she worked on his zipper.

“I think the two of you will get along pretty well.”

She didn’t want to get along with Luke’s sister. She wanted sex, not a family get-together. Once Luke was naked she pushed him backwards and he fell on the bed. Sage stood between his legs and whipped off her shirt. She attempted to shimmy out of her skirt, only her belly was in the way.

“Dammit.” She pulled the stretchy fabric over her belly, moving her hips to the left and to the right in an attempt to look halfway seductive.

“Need help, sweetheart?”

“No,” she barked.

Luke sat up and rubbed his calloused hands up her legs, cupping her butt under her skirt. “Come here.” He pulled her closer, her knees bumping into the bed. “Closer,” he whispered, bringing her face down to his, and stilled her with a slow and sensual kiss that made her knees buckle. In a move so gentle and graceful, he swept her on to the bed, rolling on top of her, using his elbows to brace himself above her body so he wouldn’t crush her. Still, her belly brushed his.

Sage looked down where they touched, belly-to-belly. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re beautiful.” He trailed kisses down her neck, through the valley between her breasts, and settled on her bump. “Gorgeous.” He circled her belly with kisses and went lower, causing every nerve ending in Sage’s body to spark.

***

Luke

Luke was still trying to catch his breath when Sage sat up and started dressing. “Where are you going?” He reached out to grab her hand but she moved too quickly.

“Home.” She strapped on her bra and slipped into her blouse.

“Stay.” Luke sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I have a chocolate cream pie downstairs.”

“I’m good with dessert sex. No need to pack on any more pounds than necessary.”

She ran her fingers through her growing hair and smiled at him. “Thanks for dinner. And for this.” She nodded toward the bed.