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Blackthorn Ridge

Page 222

by Alessandro Ingenito

He huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. I’m always happy.”

Sage made an undignified little sound and pressed her forehead into his sternum. Behind them, Annie and Mary Sue both choked on simultaneous snorts of laughter.

“What? I am!” Cal protested, voice rumbling under her cheek.

Michael just stared at him and shook his head like Cal had announced Pokémon was “just a game.”

Sage didn’t care. She climbed him like a jungle gym, the way she always did, and he caught her effortlessly, arms wrapping tight around her, big hands cupping her ass like they belonged there. She buried her face in his thick neck and held on, breathing in cedar, hot chocolate, and the faint warm trace of butter from the kitchen. His heartbeat was steady against her.

Perfect.

From the great room, Mary Sue cleared her throat — that very specific, I see what’s happening, I love what’s happening, but I have eggs to consider throat-clearing.

Cal didn’t move.

Sage didn’t move.

“Hollandaise needs you, son,” Mary Sue said dryly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He still didn’t let her go. He kissed the top of her head, then her lips, and she kissed him back, soft and slow and smiling.

She thought she heard Mary Sue chuckle as she walked past them toward the stove.

“Never mind, you two. I’ll do it.”

SAGE

“Where is Izzy?” Sage asked as she leaned against Cal and ate a bite of salmon Benedict.

“I thought she…I thought…omg this is so good…” she said as she took another bite and moaned looking at Cal who was looking away trying not to react.

Fuck he makes the best food.

The whole family was just settling around the long breakfast table.

“Oh…umm…she stepped outside to call the pilot—“ Michael stopped as the dining room doors opened on a swirl of leather and designer perfume.

Isabelle swept in like she owned the morning — tailored black coat draped dramatically over one arm, silk blouse tucked into slim trousers, hair and makeup flawless even after a night of emotional mascara meltdowns. She had her phone pressed to her ear, voice crisp and professional.

“Excellent Captain. Please remind Kelly that Mr. Barrington needs gluten free peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chocolate almond milk for⁠—”

She stopped dead in the archway between the great room and kitchen.

Her eyes locked on Sage.

Sage, still tucked against Cal’s chest, glowing like she’d swallowed starlight.

Sage blushed as she waved awkwardly.

Isabelle’s mouth fell open. The pilot’s tinny voice kept talking — “Ms. Sanderson? Hello? Kelly has stocked the larder and The Gulfstream will be ready whenever you and Mr. Barrington—” but Isabelle simply hung up without a word, staring at her best friend like she’d grown a second head.

The entire table went quiet. Even Brutus lifted his massive head from the rug.

“Oh.My.God,” Isabelle breathed.

Then she freaked.