Cocky Secrets (Cocker Brothers #29)

5. Sage

FIVE

Sage

A half hour before the clock strikes noon, I stand in the shadow of the last giant oak tree, the one closest to our gate, gathering my wits and courage. My bicycle is leaning against its sturdy trunk as I pace, sun high and casting hard shadows over the property. I slipped away without anyone noticing. As everyone is enjoying their day of rest, they couldn’t be bothered with thinking about me.

The thrill of adventure is buzzing in my veins, but it’s laced with a bit of fear, too. I’ve never painted anyone naked before, though it’s something I’ve longed to do. I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking anyone in our club. It would be too weird, to have asked, though I’d have been thrilled to give it a try.

To be given permission by Bear is an honor, one I don’t take lightly. His smile lingers in my mind, a vivid memory that demands to be translated onto canvas. Will I do him justice?

Why wouldn’t I?

I was born to paint.

Remember that, Sage.

Remember it!

I glance past our gate at sprawling fields of uncut grass that stretch out as far as the eye can see. Alice’s property is closest but not visible from here. The kids came home earlier this morning. Everyone is occupied. This is my moment of escape.

I didn’t bring the electric clicker so as not to arouse suspicion should anyone hear the sound of our gate opening. With my paint and brushes tucked safely in my backpack, I mount my bike and prepare to pedal to his home, slowly unlocking and opening the clunky pedestrian gate. It’s old and creaky but when you open it slowly enough it doesn’t make a sound. Just one tiny inch at a time. That’s the way to do it. Nice and easy.

Awkwardly I start to walk my bike through its narrow escape, but hear the rumble of engines disrupting the air’s serenity. I turn my head, heart sinking as I see the familiar figures of my brothers riding up on their motorcycles. They’re a whirlwind of energy, doing zigzags around each other along the long driveway, dust billowing in celebration.

Oh, why am I just on a bicycle!

I couldn’t possibly ride away fast enough for them not to see me! And the old oak’s trunk isn’t large enough to hide these wheels were I to attempt it as a hiding place. Dammit! Their arrival is an unavoidable storm rolling in!

“Hey, Sage!” Luke calls out, voice booming over the sound of their Harleys as they come to a halt. Neither are wearing helmets, long hair free and hanging to their lower backs. Atlas, with his devilish grin, hops off his bike and leans against it, arms crossed. I can feel their eyes incinerating me, a mix of unabashed curiosity and mischief.

“What’s with the secret bike ride?” Luke asks, tilting his head slightly. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Atlas grins, “You look like you just got caught.”

I hesitate, heart racing as I weigh my options. Should I tell them the truth? Should I reveal my secret plans to paint the stranger? Maybe they’d understand. I could leave out the naked part, say it’s just a model who is used to being painted. Someone from the local college. I could say it’s a woman! But no, I can’t. I know they’d mock me, or worse, insist on tagging along to meet her, to make sure it’s safe, and find out there is no her, but instead a very sexy him .

I take a deep breath and give them a casual smile. “Just going for a ride, you know? Exploring,” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Luke raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Exploring? Why didn’t you bring your clicker? Looks more like you’re making a getaway.”

“Where’s the fire, sis?” Atlas pushes, a playful glint in his eyes. “Come on, Sage. You can’t just leave us hanging like this. We want to know where you’re headed. You know we can’t let you ride off alone.”

A wave of frustration washes over me. They’re blocking my escape, their presence a barrier between me and my mission. It may not be to save lives as theirs are, but it’s mine! “It’s nothing, really. Just some fresh air,” I insist.

“Fresh air?” Luke echoes, arms crossing, a detective unraveling a mystery. “You’re hiding something. What’s really going on?”

I glance down to my bicycle, heart sunken. I can feel the weight of my backpack pressing against my back, a reminder of the opportunity I must protect. “I just wanted some peace and quiet,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “Can’t a girl enjoy a bike ride without being interrogated?”

Luke shrugs, distrust dancing in his eyes. “Sure, but it’s more fun when we’re in on the adventure. We were just about to head to the lake. Why don’t you join us?”

“No!” The word escaped my lips before I could stop it. “I mean… I really want to be alone today.” What a lie.

Luke and Atlas share a glance. “Come on, Sage. We’re just looking out for you,” Luke says, his tone softening. “We don’t want you riding that thing by yourself.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s too slow if someone wanted to grab you.”

I frown, the reality of life’s dangers unwanted to my psyche. “I ride it often enough on my own when you guys aren’t here!”

Wrong thing to say, by the looks in their eyes. Luke, the leader of the two, shakes his head and Atlas, the more dangerous, growls, “That ends now.”

I gasp, “What!?”

“No more riding your bike alone,” Atlas says for both of them as if they’re my keepers. Only problem is, I know that if they were to tell Dad, it would be an order sanctioned. There is no ‘if’ here anyway. I can see it on their faces. They will tell him! I know it in my gut. There goes my autonomy!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I snap. “Melody took the car and Mom and I need to eat! Who’s going to get food for us when all of you are gone for who knows how long! It’s not like you keep a schedule we can rely on! You think Italian food grows on these trees?!” No matter that I never actually got the Italian food, but they don’t need to know that!

Luke’s tone softens. “We’re just looking out for you, Sage. You don’t know the things we see. Look, we’re going to the lake. Come with us. Hop on.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“Don’t be mad at us,” Atlas grins. “Come to the lake.”

“I was going to go paint,” I sigh, motioning to my backpack, leaving out the most important part: I’m going to paint a naked man you’ve never met. Oh, and he’s a policeman.

If they paid more attention to my art they’d know I don’t have a canvas with me, but they’re not thinking that far ahead. Or maybe they believe I have a tiny one tucked away in here. How cares? I hate them.

As if it’s final, Luke says, “Good. You’ll paint the lake.”

“I’ll go back home. You go to the lake.”

Atlas smoothly counters, “Then we’ll all go back home.”

I snap, “Why all of us?!”

“So you don’t sneak out when we’re at the lake,” Luke explains with a knowing smile.

Atlas grins. “You think we’re stupid?”

You’re too smart is what you are. I grind my teeth, mind racing, so angry as I glare at my overprotective brothers. “Fine,” I finally say, the word heavy on my tongue. “But just for a little while. I’ll ride with you to the lake, and then I’m going back to my painting. I don’t want to paint the lake. You have to give me a ride back.”

“Deal,” Luke says, his grin widening as he revs his motorcycle. Atlas mounts his and follows suit.

Sadness washes over me as I close the pedestrian gate, climb off my bike, and prop it against the ancient oak tree. Tears of frustration tug at my heart. I can’t let them see how much they hurt me with this, how much they extinguished my fire of inspiration. I’ve painted that damn lake a hundred times. I want to paint a naked man today! I want to see his vulnerability as he waits for me to define him by way of brushstrokes and colors!

I climb on Luke’s Harley, lace my arms around him, rest my head on his back in defeat. As we ride toward the lake, the wind whips through my hair, a feeling I normally adore. But I can’t shake disappointment’s hold. My blank canvas, both of them, remain far away, untouched, my vision of the handsome stranger fading with each frustrating, passing moment. I steal a glance at Luke and Atlas, their laughter ringing through the air as they enjoy their favorite pastime — riding motorcycles for the fun of it — and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to reclaim my escape.

What must Bear be thinking? When noon rolls round and I’m not there? Did he look forward to this as much as I did? As if that’s even possible.