Page 63 of Till The Cows Come Home
Sage nodded in agreement, delivering a kiss to each of their temples before backing from their embrace.
“I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” she promised, before collecting my hand in hers, leading us out the door. We loaded into the truck, driving silently as we made the short trip to the farm to collect her car, and as we pulled into the driveway, I could feel Sage’s hand become rigid beneath mine. And when I looked over at her, I could have sworn she was holding her breath, her eyes glued to the wreckage.
“Breathe.”
As the hushed demand escaped my lips, Sage’s chest rose.
“I’ll follow you to your apartment if you want?”
“Please,” she mumbled, gripping her wheel tightly as she settled into the front seat of her own car.
I closed her inside, following behind as she slowly pulled away, undoubtedly taking a long last look at the rubble that was soon to be cleared.
I parked in the spot next to Sage, following her up the steps into her apartment, and as I flicked on the lights, she began surveying the space, tears welling as she looked around.
“What’s wrong?”
Before she answered, she continued looking around until she came upon a note taped to the fridge, her eyebrows furrowed as she consumed the words. I waited until she finished, relieved when a small smile trickled across her face.
“Ruby,” she whispered. “She cleaned my apartment.”
Sage opened the refrigerator, peering inside.
“And shopped for me at the market.”
I looked over her shoulder, quickly noticing all of Sage’s staples nestled perfectly inside.
“Good, that’s one less thing for you to worry about. Now why don’t you go shower? I’ll make us something to eat.”
“You don’t want to come with me?” she questioned, looking up at me with those dangerous blue eyes.
“Sage, I’m digging my heels into this floor to prevent myself from following you. I’d love nothing more than to cherish every part of your body that's been neglected these past few days, but we have a lot to take care of, starting with you. The second your needs are met, I’ll submit to your every desire. Whatever you wish.”
She smiled, making her way to the bathroom, and when I heard the shower run, I made my way to the kitchen, pulling out the items I needed to make a few sandwiches. I didn’t have it in me to make anything elaborate, instead settling on quick and easy. Turkey, pepper jack cheese, lettuce, and tomato balanced on top of two mayo slathered slices of bread. After compressing the bread a bit to hold in the ingredients, I sliced the sandwich diagonally before plating it alongside a pile of strawberries. It took me a few minutes to repeat the process for myself and then I carried the plates to her room, setting one on each nightstand before retrieving a bottle of wine and a couple glasses.
The notepad sat heavy in my chest pocket, and as I waited, I pulled it out, rereading the things Sage had suggested before she knew I was serious. The wheels in my head turned, and I clicked my pen a few times, sorting the logistics of how I was going to make it happen.
Sage emerged from the bathroom, toweling her wet hair, happily stopping at the plate I’d set to take a bite.
“What are you going to add?” she mumbled, mouth still full of food.
“I was hoping I could bounce some ideas off you.”
She smiled, dressing herself before snuggling into the spot next to me. And for the next few hours we drained the bottle of wine, carefully planning how every one of our dreams were about to become a reality.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sage
Iwoke as I did every day since the accident, pulse skyrocketed, bolting upright in my bed, gasping to catch my breath as I attempted to orient myself. Today though, a light peeked through the crack of my bedroom door and my acclimation was swift, the smell of pine and coffee grounding me to reality, telltale signals that I was no longer alone. I inhaled deeply, willing my heart to slow while sucking in the familiar sent with each round of breaths. My grip on the sheets loosened and as I regained my composure, I swung my legs over into my slippers. I was no longer going to deny myself the simple things I loved, which meant finally allowing myself to seek comfort in the one person who could give it to me.
I padded across my room, squinting my eyes as I opened the door just enough for my body to squeeze through. Miles didn’t notice me and I could see the eraser of a pencil sticking from behind his ear, along with his entire body, which was hunched over whatever he was working on at the table. As silently as I could, I approached him, sliding my arms over his shoulders, snaking my arms down his chest.
“Good morning,” I whispered into his ear, smirking at the low grumble of pleasure that escaped his throat.
“Morning, pretty girl,” he whispered back, turning his head slightly to deliver a quick peck to my cheek.
My focus shifted slightly from his affection to the littering of papers strung across my table.
