Her Christmas Wish (The Cottages on Ocean Breeze #1)

Chapter Eighteen

T here was no way Sage would have agreed to ride with Gray to the function on Saturday night if Scott hadn’t been the one to tell her that Gray had said something about driving her. Her brother had been vague, but when Gray’s text had come in, with Scott right there, she’d look churlish, or worse, cause more of an issue than she wanted to deal with, if she refused.

They’d been alone together plenty of times in the weeks Gray had been back in her life. Mostly in her office with its soundproofed walls and the door closed. Just the two of them in a car, with Gray having to focus on his driving, could hardly pose a threat.

Even to a libido out of equilibrium.

Still, as she put on the sleek, slim-fitting long black sheath, leaving her hair wavy and long around shoulders covered only by spaghetti straps, and stepped into three-inch glitzy black heels, she was aware that Gray would be the first one to see her that night. And took a second long glance in the mirror, turning to get side and back views as well. Assessing her sexiness.

And then, not.

Maybe it was natural to want Gray to eat his heart out. To see what he could have had, even ten years later, if he’d been...

What?

Someone he wasn’t?

How fair was that?

And more to the point, how could she possibly say she’d loved the man if her love had only been good for as long as he’d been what she needed him to be, not who he was?

And she had loved him.

More than a decade later, she still had no doubt on that one. Head and heart in complete agreement.

Leigh had left earlier in the day, and Sage had been quite pleased with all she’d been able to accomplish with the unusual freedom. From housecleaning to casework, she’d managed to complete more tasks on her list in half a day than she normally got done in an entire weekend.

Including be ready a good ten minutes early, with nothing to do but pace. And think about the last time Gray had come to the door to pick her up for anything.

That night just forty-eight hours before the big day she’d spent an entire year anticipating. Or a whole life, if she considered her girlish and teenaged dreams of her wedding day.

He’d rung the bell of her apartment, and when she’d pulled it open his back had been turned to her. She should have known then.

No. Rehashing stopped with closure. That was part of the deal.

With nine minutes more to wait, she heard her text sound, and grabbed her phone out of her clutch as though it was an oxygen mask to a suffocating person.

As tight and tense as her chest was feeling, she was finding it kind of hard to draw an easy breath.

I’m heading down now. Meet you outside.

He wasn’t coming to the door to get her.

Like any other rideshare, he was merely going to wait out front.

Drawing strength from the reminder, Sage slid the long, thin strap attached to her clutch over her shoulder and locked up.

The night was going to be fine.

She just needed to relax.

Gray was sure that Sage’s looks had stunned him in the past. He had no specific memory of the sight of her literally taking away his breath.

But as he watched her move around the carpeted floor, from table to table of black-coated men and gorgeously adorned women after her speech, answering questions, smiling, generally passing out confidence and security, instilling trust, he had a moment where he could hardly draw in air.

He’d always found her beautiful. And way too sexy for his own good. Her petiteness perfect for his own shorter stature. Letting him stand a good manly eight or nine inches taller than her.

His penis, as usual, had spent the night growing taller by her, too. By her. Across the room from her. Watching her sincerity reach the audience of seasoned investors...

And that smile, with lipstick under bright lights making it harder to ignore—he’d lost count of the times he’d been thankful for his buttoned suit coat.

Not that he didn’t have himself under control. He wasn’t walking around like some kind of letch. But the sudden infusions that quickly dissipated would have been a bit awkward if anyone else knew about them.

A guy couldn’t help what he couldn’t help.

While the night had been designed so that there would be no business transactions taking place at the event, with a designated web address printed on business cards and passed out to every attendee to express interest, Gray had several people come up to him at various points, wanting to meet him and shake his hand.

To tell him that they were interested in his concept and in doing business with him.

Sage’s firm was setting up a specific investment program, as opposed to selling stocks, that would pay initial investors back with percentages of profit sharing in addition to interest.

Gray lost track of how many hands he shook. His face started to get stiff from smiling. But he didn’t tire, for one second, of Sage’s continuous conversation, rehashing different aspects of the night, all the way home.

She spoke of unusually high percentages of attendees who expressed interest, about next steps, mentioned that the comedian Marissa had hired had done a great job pulling in the audience with investment jokes.

Purely professional, and still, in the glow from the streetlights under which he drove, she glowed. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to sparkle.

So much so that he wanted to ask her if she’d like to stop at the place up on the hill, just above Ocean Breeze, for a nightcap. But didn’t want even a hint of impropriety. Of him taking advantage of the moment or putting her on the spot.

He didn’t want to ruin what was easily one of the best nights he’d had since he’d left her world all those years before.

“You want to stop for a drink?” Sage asked as he pulled onto the road that would take them down the cliff, past the elegant Rockcliff Restaurant and Bar, to Ocean Breeze.

With the invitation coming right on the heels of his own thought, he didn’t give any consideration at all to refusing. “Sure,” he told her, made the turn, parked and walked around to open her door for her. As he’d done countless times in the past.

She’d already let herself out.

Taking the reminder in stride, he walked beside her, not close enough to touch, and didn’t have to worry about getting the next door for her as there was a uniformed employee trusted with that task.

The bar, a quietly lit place with light walls and upholstered booths, with a few matching table and chair sets scattered about, was surprisingly busy. Making it easier to slide into a booth across from Sage and relax. She ordered a glass of wine—not her usual spritzer—and he asked for a scotch. What the hell, they were celebrating.

Even if the evening ultimately produced no money, they’d thrown one hell of a party, attracting the attention of respected people, without any snoops getting wind of it. Might be just for the one event, but he felt as though he was alive again. In the world he’d spent so many years building.

He’d gotten some of his confidence back.

And he had her to thank for that.

The wine calmed some of the adrenaline coursing through Sage after the great evening. It relaxed a bit of the excitement generated from signs of early success based on attendee comments and reactions, and Sage hadn’t felt so personally successful in a long while.

Surprised by that, she took the second while Gray was in the restroom to check herself on the thought. Ran through a mental checklist of professional landmarks, happy clients, awards...but couldn’t find a single standout. Nothing that made her feel even half as alive as that night had done.

No, it was thoughts of Leigh that did that. The little girl’s happiness, her development. The odds they’d helped her beat together. Those were her highs.

But...she was more than a mother. Leigh was growing up fast already. Asserting her independence in all kinds of ways. And if Sage’s whole world was just her child, it wouldn’t be good for Leigh. Would it?

Shaking her head as she saw Gray coming back toward her, Sage determined not to ruin the night with her usual ruminations. There’d be time later, when she was herself and not coming off a high with a glass of wine added in, to assess her future success as a mother. And a person.

“You looked like you were having deep thoughts,” he said as he slid back in across from her. His gaze held hers, filled with interest. And...warmth.

She shook her head. Nodded when the waiter passed by and asked if she’d like another glass of wine. She had the whole night to herself. Didn’t need to worry about being responsible for anyone else. And looked back to see Gray still watching her.

Like maybe he was seeing her for the first time. And she wondered, if they’d met in their current lives, if things would have been any different for them.

And had a flash of the story he’d recently told her about growing up. His lack of attachment to things. Wondering what else he might not have shared.

Thinking of her strong desire to be a mother—the elephant that was always in the room between them—a desire partially born from her closeness to her own female parent, she asked, “Did you ever know your father?”

Even as the words slipped out, she braced for his pullback. The way he had of straightening his shoulders, his head rigidly held on top of them...and hadn’t realized until that second that that had been his tell.

And the thing that had stopped her from ever pressing for more. He’d stiffen, pull back and...

But he wasn’t stiffening. “I never even knew for sure who he was,” he told her, slowly moving his stir stick around the full glass of scotch that had just been delivered. “My mother was in high school when she got pregnant with me. All I ever knew was that no one but Grandma stood by her. Mom had a hard time with it all. Working at the restaurant. Raising me. By the time I was old enough to demand answers about my father, she was gone, and Grandma swore she didn’t know.” While Sage’s heart broke, digesting things she’d never guessed, Gray paused, and then said, “I sometimes thought it was a blessing when my mother was killed in the car accident when I was ten. She always seemed so tired...”

Holding back tears, Sage stayed front and center with Gray. Right there, in that moment, she knew real closure. And a strange kind of opening, too.

Not only had he never known his father, he’d also watched others suffer for his father having deserted them. Maybe not the reason Gray didn’t want to be a father. But the fact that he’d never witnessed, firsthand, what being a father was all about—good or bad—brought clarity to something she’d never been able to understand.

Gray’s leaving her—hadn’t been about her.

He’d said that, of course, but everyone usually did in a breakup situation. Or at least did commonly enough that it was understood that it didn’t mean anything.

In his case...maybe it had.

And while it didn’t change their past, or their future, didn’t change the people they were—a man and a woman with very different needs—knowing still made a difference.

Sage’s eyes brimmed with warmth, but no pity, as Gray finished talking. Normalizing what could have quickly turned into a derailing of all they’d been working to build.

“I was super close to my mom,” she told him. “She was lovely, and kind. Always busy doing something for someone. And involving me in it somehow. Teaching me how to live a good, happy, giving life without my even knowing it was happening.” Her gaze took on a faraway look, leaving Gray more alone than he’d been, and wishing he could travel to that place. That he’d known her mother.

And then she was back. Looking him straight in the eye, as though calling him to attention. She’d had his attention from the moment she’d stepped back into his life again.

“I was just starting puberty when she died...” Her voice trailed off. Before he could find any kind of right words, she started up again. “Dad expected me to pick up the reins, and I could. I knew what to do, in some of her volunteer work, and, of course, at home. It’s like I became my own mother. And there was comfort in that...”

The parental relationship she was describing, the mothering...he knew exactly what she was talking about. Recognized it. From her dealings with Leigh. And he settled inside.

Leaning a bit forward, she continued, “It’s like I was keeping the best part of my life, Mom’s warmth, her love, alive, right there, every day...”

Sage blinked. Gave her head a brief shake.

And then with a frown said, “What am I doing? I’m so sorry, Gray. I didn’t mean...”

Frowning right back, Gray leaned forward, too. “What? Didn’t mean what?” He’d barely started in on his second drink, but felt like he’d passed out or something. Regaining consciousness having missed something huge. Except that he’d been sitting right there. Still sober enough to drive.

“You...” She shook her head. “You tell me how hard it was at home. Your mother...always tired. And I jump in with the perfect mom story. Oh, my God.” Her eyes widened, looking aghast. “Is that what I did to you in the past? Was I this callous to you? Shoving this great upbringing, this privilege, at you?”

“No.” He said the word with force. It needed to be there. And took her hand across the table, looking her straight in the eye. No blinking. Head-on. “You were, are, one of the most sensitive, strong, caring women I’ve ever known. You didn’t shove, Sage, you shared. Any privilege you might have had, knowingly or not, was as much mine as yours when we were together.”

Moisture filled her eyes. She blinked. Nodded. But her chin had that telltale tremble.

“It’s not your fault, Sage,” he told her then. Words coming forth out of his need to own up. Man up. “You were right a little while back, when you realized that I’d withheld...certain aspects...of things. You seemed to think it was because of something you did or didn’t do, but it was not. I very carefully, very consciously, showed you the me I wanted you to know. I didn’t ever lie to you. I gave who I was when I knew you. But I chose to shed a lot of things. And since I’d shed them, I didn’t share them.”

Great job. Couch it all, still. Couching the couching. Manning right up.

“It wouldn’t have mattered how much you nagged me. I wasn’t going to give you any more. Because in my mind, I’d left the past behind. The last thing I was going to do was dredge it back up again.” Feeling the warmth of her soft fingers in his, he let go.

Sat back and said, “But I see now why being a mother is such a huge part of you.” And saw, too, that some things were never going to change.