mailbox—was a real Southern gentleman.
The name sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place it—perhaps he’d done business with her father. He was at least third-generation Virginian, she guessed. Idly she wondered what EJ’s initial stood for—most likely his father’s name and his grandfather’s, as well. The initials probably allowed him to be referred to without confusion, a common convention.
EJ’s friendly green eyes—almost the exact same color as hers—shifted from Ian to Sage. He was freshly shaven, crisp and cool regardless of the heat in khakis and a white cotton shirt. He was barefoot, his sandy brown hair neatly cut. He wore a musky aftershave that was pleasant and not overpowering.
Sage ran a hand self-consciously through her messy hair—she must look like a street rat in comparison, though he didn’t give one glimmer of noticing, behavior befitting of a real gentleman. EJ smiled and shook Ian’s hand, stepping back to invite them in.
“EJ, I was hoping you might have time to help me out with something. Something…delicate.”
EJ’s brow creased and he nodded. “Of course. I’ve just fixed a late breakfast—are you two hungry? There’s plenty. I got a little carried away at the market this morning.”
“Sounds good.” Ian locked glances with his friend. “Are you alone?”
“Millie’s upstairs getting dressed. She’ll be down in a few minutes, but she’ll be delighted to see you.”
Ian slanted a skeptical smile, and Sage wondered who Millie was but didn’t ask. Ian guided her ahead of him, his hand impersonal at the small of her back. Sage knew it was a gesture meant to move her where he could keep her in sight, not affection of any kind, but still his touch warmed her skin.
They followed EJ into the kitchen, not saying a word. She wondered what Ian was going to tell EJ about her. She walked to a beautiful cherry dining table, admiring EJ’s taste, and he motioned for her to sit.
“Let me get some food and we can talk.”
Ian sat directly across from her, looking tired and stressed. His blue chambray shirt was rumpled, his gray eyes a little bleary. The sensuous mouth that had brought her such pleasure last night was set into a firm line. He didn’t make eye contact with her but glanced around the kitchen instead, making small talk as EJ carried some trays from the granite counter to the table.
The two men sat at the corner of the table, and Sage sat directly across, observing. Ian appeared rough-hewnset against EJ’s more refined, gentlemanly manner. Ian’s stone-colored eyes were cold next to the warm ocean-green ones of his friend, but just looking at Ian made her heart race.
The way his black hair fell over his forehead begged her to push it back with her fingers. She knew what he felt like, what he tasted like, and she knew being with him would be heaven with just a little bit of hell mixed in for spice. The memory was still sharp and made her intimate muscles clench slightly as she observed the angles of his face, more distinct with exhaustion, but she remembered how they’d softened when he’d made love to her.
Sage smiled to herself. Soft-spoken, refined gentlemen never had been her preference, much to her mother’s dismay. EJ reminded her of her father a little bit—they had the same aura of the well-bred. Ian was more of a mystery, more of a challenge.
She sighed, thinking of her family more in the last ten minutes than she had in the last week. They’d moved from Norfolk two years ago, wanting to be close to her sister, who had just had twins in Charleston. Sage hadn’t seen them in a while; she wasn’t allowed out of the state.
She missed them sometimes but didn’t know why. Just the sense of something familiar, something she belonged to even though she didn’t exactly fit their mold. Of course, she’d never really tried.
She hadn’t dated many boys and she’d gone out of her way to find ones her parents would be shocked by.That
The name sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place it—perhaps he’d done business with her father. He was at least third-generation Virginian, she guessed. Idly she wondered what EJ’s initial stood for—most likely his father’s name and his grandfather’s, as well. The initials probably allowed him to be referred to without confusion, a common convention.
EJ’s friendly green eyes—almost the exact same color as hers—shifted from Ian to Sage. He was freshly shaven, crisp and cool regardless of the heat in khakis and a white cotton shirt. He was barefoot, his sandy brown hair neatly cut. He wore a musky aftershave that was pleasant and not overpowering.
Sage ran a hand self-consciously through her messy hair—she must look like a street rat in comparison, though he didn’t give one glimmer of noticing, behavior befitting of a real gentleman. EJ smiled and shook Ian’s hand, stepping back to invite them in.
“EJ, I was hoping you might have time to help me out with something. Something…delicate.”
EJ’s brow creased and he nodded. “Of course. I’ve just fixed a late breakfast—are you two hungry? There’s plenty. I got a little carried away at the market this morning.”
“Sounds good.” Ian locked glances with his friend. “Are you alone?”
“Millie’s upstairs getting dressed. She’ll be down in a few minutes, but she’ll be delighted to see you.”
Ian slanted a skeptical smile, and Sage wondered who Millie was but didn’t ask. Ian guided her ahead of him, his hand impersonal at the small of her back. Sage knew it was a gesture meant to move her where he could keep her in sight, not affection of any kind, but still his touch warmed her skin.
They followed EJ into the kitchen, not saying a word. She wondered what Ian was going to tell EJ about her. She walked to a beautiful cherry dining table, admiring EJ’s taste, and he motioned for her to sit.
“Let me get some food and we can talk.”
Ian sat directly across from her, looking tired and stressed. His blue chambray shirt was rumpled, his gray eyes a little bleary. The sensuous mouth that had brought her such pleasure last night was set into a firm line. He didn’t make eye contact with her but glanced around the kitchen instead, making small talk as EJ carried some trays from the granite counter to the table.
The two men sat at the corner of the table, and Sage sat directly across, observing. Ian appeared rough-hewnset against EJ’s more refined, gentlemanly manner. Ian’s stone-colored eyes were cold next to the warm ocean-green ones of his friend, but just looking at Ian made her heart race.
The way his black hair fell over his forehead begged her to push it back with her fingers. She knew what he felt like, what he tasted like, and she knew being with him would be heaven with just a little bit of hell mixed in for spice. The memory was still sharp and made her intimate muscles clench slightly as she observed the angles of his face, more distinct with exhaustion, but she remembered how they’d softened when he’d made love to her.
Sage smiled to herself. Soft-spoken, refined gentlemen never had been her preference, much to her mother’s dismay. EJ reminded her of her father a little bit—they had the same aura of the well-bred. Ian was more of a mystery, more of a challenge.
She sighed, thinking of her family more in the last ten minutes than she had in the last week. They’d moved from Norfolk two years ago, wanting to be close to her sister, who had just had twins in Charleston. Sage hadn’t seen them in a while; she wasn’t allowed out of the state.
She missed them sometimes but didn’t know why. Just the sense of something familiar, something she belonged to even though she didn’t exactly fit their mold. Of course, she’d never really tried.
She hadn’t dated many boys and she’d gone out of her way to find ones her parents would be shocked by.That
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