Page 87
“YOUR EYEBROW SAID PLENTY!”
Silence. Then, muffled from the kitchen, and barely audible, a laugh.
A real one.
Sage stood in the hallway surrounded by scattered pillows, chest heaving, cookie crumbs on her shirt, and the sound of Cal’s laugh settling deep into her bones like warmth from the fire. She pressed both hands over her mouth and grinned so hard her face ached.
The rich aroma of garlic, basil, and simmering tomatoes greeted Sage as she came downstairs, freshly showered and wrapped in new black fleece sweats that had a little cowgirl symbol embroidered on the hip. Goth girl goes country, she thought with an amused snort, her damp hair curling at the ends.
Cal was plating dinner in the kitchen, moving with that quiet confidence of his. He’d changed into a soft, worn navy henley that stretched across his broad shoulders and thick chest, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms corded with muscle and marked by old scars. His silver-threaded hair was slightly tousled, and the warm kitchen light caught on the faint stubble along his strong jaw. A dish towel was slung casually over one shoulder. The sight of him — this vast, capable man quietly creating something beautiful — made something low and warm flutter deep in her stomach.
A Caprese salad glistened with fresh mozzarella, ripe tomatoes, and fragrant basil, drizzled in rich olive oil and aged balsamic. Beside it sat twirls of pasta in a bright homemade marinara, finished with real imported Parmesan, and thick slices of golden garlic bread.
Sage paused at the edge of the kitchen, a small, disbelieving smile on her face. “Okay… so the cooking thing. That’s actually real? You’re not just ordering out to impress me?”
Cal shrugged, that half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he set a full plate in front of her. “Nah, I keep a couple chefs hidden in the barn for special occasions.”
Sage shook her head, laughing softly.
“Besides, you needed something better than cookies for dinner.”
She sat down, fork already hovering — then caught herself and set it down. She held her hands out toward him just as he reached for hers.
Cal’s eyes softened. He took her hands in his warm, firm grip, bowed his head, and said a simple, quiet grace.
“Father, thank You for this food and for Sage.” He paused, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Also, please let her know that not sharing cookies is frowned upon. Amen.”
“Hey!” Sage protested, eyes wide. “You’re not allowed to say stuff like that to God!”
He squeezed her fingers once before letting go, looking innocently amused. “Why not?”
Sage stared at him. “You know… ‘cause it’s God. You’re supposed to be all… I dunno… English.”
“English?” Cal repeated slowly, one eyebrow lifting.
“Yeah, like ‘God Save the Queen!’” She took a big bite of pasta and immediately froze as the flavors hit. “Oh my God… Oh my God.”
Cal kept his face perfectly straight. “He’s my God too.”
Sage put her fork down for a second, staring at her plate in disbelief. “This is ridiculous. How… why… you shouldn’t be allowed to cook this good.”
Cal took a large bite, chewed thoughtfully, and nodded. “Mmm… okay… why?”
Sage laughed, bright and helpless. “Nevermind…”
The meal was incredible. She ate like someone who had been starving for more than just food, making soft little sounds of appreciation that made Cal’s smile deepen with quiet satisfaction.
Afterward she insisted on cleaning up, waving him off when he tried to help. “You cooked. I’ve got this.”
He didn’t argue. He poured himself a mug of hot chocolate and stepped out onto the porch with Brutus huffing contentedly beside him under the falling snow.
A little while later, Sage stepped out onto the porch with her own mug of hot chocolate, the warm ceramic soothing against her palms. The snow had stopped, and the stars were beginning to peek through breaks in the clouds. Brutus huffed contentedly at Cal’s feet.
They stood in comfortable silence for a long while, the night air crisp and quiet. Sage stared up in awe at the sheer volume of stars scattered across the dark sky.
I can’t believe I’m here… I don’t understand any of this except…
She looked at Cal, so solid and large in his chair.
