A SEAL's Kiss. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ to your friends. So...where’s the hot rock-star boyfriend? Why weren’t you here a week ago? And why do you look so bummed?” Clearly out of breath, but not questions, AnaMaria filled her lungs and looked like she was going to keeping going.

      Sage held up one hand before the other woman said anything else and shook her head. This was a sitting-down sort of conversation, so she glanced around.

      “Let’s chill,” she suggested, waving her hand to indicate one of the small tables in the corner.

      “I don’t think the Seattle scene is really me,” she admitted when they were settled. She ran her fingers over the smooth satin tablecloth, letting the fabric cool her stress. “I thought I wanted something intense, you know. The rock scene, music, the passion of it. But I’m not finding what I need there.”

      “Dave wasn’t passionate enough?” AnaMaria asked, scooting her chair closer and leaning her head in, making it clear that she was ready to hear any and all naughty details.

      And oh, the details they were. Sage pressed her lips together, then shrugged. Why not? She hadn’t come away with much from the relationship, she might as well have fun now.

      “He was passionate about his music. So much so that he could only get it up if his tunes were playing in the background,” she dished, leaning close to offer a wicked smile and a wriggle of her brows. “And mirrors. He liked doing it in front of mirrors.”

      AnaMaria’s mouth rounded into an O.

      “Well, that’s kinda sexy, right?” the redhead asked, her cheeks as bright as her hair now. “At least, I’ve heard it is.”

      It was all Sage could do not to hug her close. For a woman married well over a year to a pretty hot cop, AnaMaria was awfully sheltered.

      “The mirrors—plural, by the way—were always angled so he could focus on just him.” It’d been sexy the first time. Interesting the next few as she watched him flex and preen. Sorta like watching her own personal porn film. But the novelty had faded fast.

      “Mirrors? Oh my.” Looking baffled, and a little intrigued, AnaMaria waved to the passing waiter, indicating she wanted whatever appetizers he was passing out. When it turned out to be stuffed mushrooms and bacon-wrapped scallops, Sage took a plate as well.

      “But he was deep in the rock scene, right? You said you couldn’t wait to bask in the creative energy and grungy vibe,” AnaMaria asked after a few bites.

      Sage’s lips twitched, wondering if it’d taken her friend all that time to find a safe response, or if she’d been trying to envision a guy who preferred sex with himself.

      “In the four months we were together, he joined and left five bands, went through twelve tubes of eyeliner and had to be talked out of jumping off our first-floor balcony three times.”

      “First-floor...”

      “Balcony,” Sage finished, taking a glass of champagne from another passing waiter. “He liked the drama, but wasn’t a fan of anything physical. Like pain. Or work.”

      “Except sex with mirrors,” AnaMaria intoned, grinning before sipping her own champagne.

      “Exactly,” Sage agreed, figuring it was better to laugh through the pain. It was that or cry.

      Was it too much to want a guy who was dedicated to what he did, had that deep passion for life—and the ability to please a woman without using strange kink? If he just had that, she’d put up with all of the negative qualities. Because if she was learning nothing else on this quest she called life, it was that everyone came with negatives. The trick was to find people who had more positives to balance that out.

      Too bad she wasn’t having much luck on that score. She drained her glass in a single gulp, the bubbles hitting her fast.

      “Sage, I want you to meet someone,” Nina said, her words as bright as her excited smile. The brunette slid into an empty chair and helped herself to a mushroom from AnaMaria’s plate. “He’s really cute, smart and single. You’ll love him.”

      “How’d you know she’s single?” AnaMaria asked, shifting her plate farther out of reach. “Just a week ago she was sharing the awesomeness that was her rocker-boy.”

      “He’s not here, is he?”

      “So? That doesn’t mean anything where Sage is concerned. She never brings guys home. Even when she says she will, she finds a way to avoid it.”

      “You’re right,” Nina said, her tone contemplative as they both turned searching looks on Sage. “Why do you think that is? Maybe she’s ashamed of us?”

      “More likely she doesn’t want her guy to know she comes from such a normal upbringing.”

      “Or perhaps she knows you’ll make inappropriate comments and embarrass us all,” Sage interrupted, rolling her eyes.

      “There is that,” Nina acknowledged with a big smile, taking her next bite off of Sage’s plate. “So? What do you say?”

      “To what?”

      “To meeting this guy.”

      “A fix-up?” Sage asked, cringing.

      “Not a fix-up. A date while you’re home. What?” Nina said, her expression as innocent as she could make it. “Were you going to hide at your dad’s the entire visit?”

      “I hadn’t really thought about it.” She hadn’t actually thought past where she’d snag some work to buy herself a plane ticket back to Seattle. Even though it was time to move on, she still had to pack up.

      And figure out where she wanted to go next.

      “So, give Jeffrey a chance while you’re here. A date or two. What’s the harm? You might find out you like him.”

      “What’s he do?”

      “He’s a doctor.”

      AnaMaria laughed at the horror on Sage’s face.

      “Um, no, thank you,” Sage said, waving both palms in the air to indicate the end of that train of thought.

      “Why not? You’ve already tried the Indian chief. You might as well give a lawyer and a doctor a try.”

      “He wasn’t a chief. He was a fire dancer,” Sage muttered. “And I’m not interested in professional guys. You know that.”

      “I don’t see why not,” Nina muttered before launching into a soliloquy about this guy’s glowing traits.

      Barely listening, Sage’s eyes cut across the hall to her father, who was drinking scotch and chatting with the groom’s father. As usual, it was weird to see the Professor without a book in hand. Her earliest memories were of him reading to her. She’d spent her toddler years after her mother had died playing at his feet while he worked at his desk, at home or at the university.

      Her every memory of her father was colored by his dedication to learning. His avocation for amassing and honoring knowledge. A worthy goal, and something she was very proud of him СКАЧАТЬ