All About Sage (A City of Sails Romance Book 2) Read online




  ALL ABOUT SAGE

  A City of Sails Romance

  Joanne Hill

  ISBN 978-0-9941166-6-6 Kindle Edition

  © 2016

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except for review or promotional purposes. This is a work of fiction and liberties may have been taken with some details.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR NOTE

  CHARLOTTE’S WISH EXCERPT

  PROLOGUE

  The Fletcher–Taylor wedding, possibly Auckland’s society wedding of the year, was held in the grounds of one of the city’s most exquisite private residences, overlooking the Waitemata Harbour in the eastern suburbs.

  Tears slid down the cheeks of Sage Lockwood, bridesmaid slash matron-of-honour slash best-friend-of-the-bride, as Robyn Taylor said ‘I do’ to Jack Fletcher. Jack took Robyn in his arms as the minister pronounced them husband and wife, and Sage blinked hard. Something stabbed her bluntly in the chest as everyone cheered and clapped. In a few minutes they’d sign the register. For now, Sage took a moment, moved away from them, and took a deep breath.

  “So you cry at weddings, huh?” a voice said next to her.

  Sage stiffened, took a different kind of deep breath, and lifted her chin. “No. I don’t actually.” Good lord, the man smelt amazing, and looked amazing, too. As Jack’s best man, Ethan McGraw was taller and bigger and even more enigmatic. And that aftershave? No doubt a dab of the stuff cost enough to feed an impoverished family for a month.

  Just the kind of man you’d rather not know.

  Sage watched out of the corner of her eye as he moved around to face her. He stared, and she stared back. She could handle him. She organised protests, waved placards at top officials, had stood on the steps of parliament and demanded an overhaul of the Resource Management Act.

  Justice was her middle name. She knew how to handle rich jerks like Ethan.

  His hand suddenly went to her chin, and cupped it. “You’re a liar,” he remarked bluntly.

  She shook his hand away in disgust, even as she felt the touch of it still there. He had such big hands. No doubt they could do a lot of damage which, she suspected, they once had. He was ex-military. He looked capable of violence, even though she’d never seen any sign of it.

  “Just because,” she said, “I have a tear in my eye, it does not mean I cry at weddings. It means I’m happy for Robyn and Jack. I’m happy for the children.” Her gaze slipped willingly over to the children, to Jack’s eight-year-old son Eric, and Robyn’s twins, five-year-old James and Ruby.

  Ethan looked disbelievingly at her, and then followed her gaze.

  “Yeah,” he said finally. “If I was the type who wept at the drop of a hat, I’d be joining you. Jack deserves a woman like Robyn. She’s terrific.”

  A strange surge of jealously went up Sage’s spine and she tamped it down. “Agreed,” she said. “And Robyn deserves a man like Jack. I bet he’s a terrific lover.”

  As soon as she said it, as soon as she saw the expression on Ethan’s face, she wished the ground beneath her would open up, pull her in, and never let her out. What the hell were you thinking?

  Ethan turned slowly, a mix of shock and amusement on his lean, tanned, entirely too-handsome face.

  “You have a thing for Jack?”

  Sage froze. The last thing she needed was for Ethan to think she had any ‘thing’ for anyone.

  “He’s an attractive man. It’s an observation,” she qualified. “I mean, his ex-girlfriend was voted the sexiest woman in New Zealand the year before last, wasn’t she?”

  Ethan’s face rapidly darkened and Sage mentally patted herself on the back. Smart move. Get Mr Macho’s mind off her ridiculous comment and on to Charlotte, Jack’s former girlfriend; the one who had left Jack and run off with ex–All Black, Brad Randell. Brad, Ethan and Jack had been friends before that. Ironically, Jack had forgiven Brad, but Ethan appeared to be having trouble.

  Note to self. Is not the forgiving type.

  “Hey, Ma.” Sage turned as her daughter Harriet came over, a smile on her face. She held up a bouquet. “I caught it.”

  They’d thrown the bouquet already? Sage turned to where Jack stood, his arm around Robyn as people snapped photographs. Eric and the twins were in adorable outfits – designed, of course, by Robyn for her new James and Ruby fashion label. Society photographers were taking pictures. Robyn had decreed that all publicity – within reason – was good publicity, and as long as there were photographs of the clothes, she had no problem.

  “I think Robyn was going to throw it to you,” Harriet said, “but you were busy. Hey, Mr McGraw.”

  “Call me Ethan,” he said. There was a knowing look on his face and, call Sage paranoid, but she was sure it was aimed at her. “So your mother was keen on catching that bouquet for herself, huh?”

  “No,” Sage retorted. “I was not.”

  “So what’s the story, then?” Finally, he looked at her. “You were planning to catch it for a friend?”

  Sage clenched her fists and Harriet said, “She didn’t want to catch it at all, and she is never getting married again. Robyn wanted her to get it, but...” She brought the exquisitely arranged white and pink roses to her nose. “I got it. So I guess, mother, if there’s going to be a wedding around here, it’ll be mine.”

  “Are you dating?” Ethan inquired.

  Harriet sighed. “No. But maybe I will be now. Maybe Mr Right has got a thing for me and I don’t even know it.”

  “You’re only seventeen,” Sage reminded her.

  “And you were pregnant with me when you were nineteen,” Harriet reminded her back.

  She felt Ethan look at her with interest. He had no doubt done the maths.

  Not to worry. She didn’t look older, she didn’t look younger.

  She tossed her blonde hair back and instantly regretted it. She was turning into a bimbo. “I better go and see the happy couple.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Ethan said.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Panic rose in Sage’s chest. Good grief. If he stayed physically close to her for much longer, she might do something stupid.

  Like sniff him. Or kiss him.

  There’d already been that one ‘moment’ months ago, and the memory still haunted her.

  “I’m best man.” Ethan shook his head. “It’s my duty to see if Jack needs me for anything. I have a responsibility.”

  “As do I,” Sage said, though for the life of her she couldn’t remember what these supposed responsibilities were.

  “Shall we?” He held out his elbow in an entirely old-fashioned way.

  She stared at it, debated whether to risk taking it.

  “Oh, for the love of...” He moved away. “You can take your time, but I have a best friend who just got hitched and I want to say congratulations. But you?” He waved his arm around in the general direction of the guests. “You just do your own thing.”

  He stalked off, and Sage shivered.

  “Mother.” Harriet snorted disapprovingly. “Why don’t you go with him?”

  “What do you
mean, go with him?”

  Harriet blinked. “You know. Go and say ‘hi’ to Jack and Robyn and be a proper bridesmaid.”

  How did one explain to one’s own daughter that the man she had been partnered with made her feel more alive than she had in a long time?

  She thought of Barry. She’d dated him for six months on and off. He was tall and skinny with long hair he wore in a man-bun. He rode a bicycle and took public transport, was vegan, played the piano accordion and wrote impassioned blog posts on endangered species and climate change.

  Ethan had military cut hair, owned both a gas guzzling truck and a huge motorbike, filled out muscle tees to perfection and ate inappropriate amounts of meat. If he was musical, it was probably cranking up Metallica.

  He was also the most anti-everything-she-stood-for man she had ever met.

  “I’m going,” she told Harriet.

  She glanced at Ethan. His arms were around Robyn. Robyn’s arms were around him. Maybe he liked Robyn. Really liked her.

  “Then go,” Harriet ordered. “Anyone would think I was the mother and you were the daughter.”

  Sage sighed as she made the trek back to where her best friend stood, glowingly happy. Sometimes she wondered if there hadn’t been some bizarre, cosmic shift and in fact, Harriet was quite right.

  Nothing, she thought, as Ethan turned to her, his gaze unsettling and direct, would surprise her.

  The reception was informal, with finger foods and deserts, waiters serving champagne, and a jazz trio playing softly in the background.

  Sage spent some time talking with Mrs Parker, Jack’s housekeeper, who was running through the details of a murderer who had appealed to a higher court for a retrial.

  “So how do you know Robyn?” Mrs Parker asked when she’d finished listing the reasons why he was so clearly guilty and wasting taxpayer money on a joke retrial.

  “We’re neighbours. She rented the house next door to me when her marriage broke up. We’ve been neighbours for just a couple of years but it feels like forever. We’ve become—” She held up her fingers knotted together. “Like that.”

  “I see.” Mrs Parker nodded sympathetically. Stands of her wild grey hair escaped from her bun. “You lose your friend and you end up getting new neighbours. Good luck with that.”

  Sage exhaled. Once Robyn had given notice to the landlord, the house had gone on the market. It had sold in a surprisingly short time, but then, houses priced at the lower end of the market were the type for first home buyers or investors looking to rent out. Robyn’s place qualified. It needed a lot of work.

  Now she’d be living in luxury on Auckland’s North Shore, in Jack’s mansion.

  “You’ll miss her a lot, won’t you?” Mrs Parker observed.

  A lump settled in Sage’s throat. “I will. I already do.”

  She noticed Ethan talking with Harriet, and wondered what state secrets Harriet was passing on. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing. Not that she cared what her daughter told him. She didn’t care what he thought of her. Didn’t care what he thought about anything, full stop.

  Harriet suddenly stood on tiptoes, put her arms around Ethan and hugged him. She looked around, spotted Sage, and grabbed Ethan’s hand to drag him over.

  “Mother, you’ll never guess, you will never guess,” she said.

  “I’m sure you’re quite right.” Sage avoided looking at Ethan but she sensed him frowning. It was disconcerting. All the times she’d gone out with Barry, she’d never sensed anything.

  “Ethan’s moving in,” Harriet announced. “To Robyn’s.”

  For a moment Sage pictured him at Robyn’s new place, Jack’s mansion, and wondered why Ethan moving in there when he already owned his own place somewhere.

  The expression on Harriet’s face began to ring alarm bells and confused, she clarified, not looking at Ethan, “You did mean he’s moving into Jack’s place in Takapuna, right?”

  Harriet rolled her eyes. “No, not to Jack’s. To Robyn’s place. Her old house. He’s going to be our neighbour.”

  For a second, Sage’s mind went blank. Slowly, she looked at Ethan. He stood watching her. Waiting.

  She swallowed hard. Focus, Sage. Focus.

  “You’re doing what?” she said finally.

  Harriet didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Ethan bought Robyn’s house. He’s going to renovate it and live in it at the same time. It’s a project.”

  The fact suddenly hit home and Sage nearly staggered.

  No. He couldn’t be. It was impossible. It could not be happening. She could not have this...this...Neanderthal living next door to her.

  “You’re doing what?” she said again.

  “I bought Rob’s house,” he told her smoothly.

  Harriet had let go of his hand to take a flute of champagne from the passing waiter, and Sage knew she should tell her she was too young.

  Instead, she stared into Ethan’s blue eyes. Amazing blue eyes. Probably contacts.

  “Why?” she asked.

  His eyebrows arched with amusement. “It’s called property investment. I’ll live in it for a couple of months, fix it up, then sell it.”

  “You’re doing all the work,” she said disbelievingly.

  “Not all. I draw the line at climbing on the roof and replacing the iron. I’ve got no death-wish for electrocution either.”

  “So what is you living in it all about? Why would you do that when you’ve got your own place?”

  “Avoids travelling time. Plus I’ve got friends coming up. They’re—” He stopped abruptly.

  Probably ex-military, Sage surmised. SAS even. Jack had been very vague about Ethan’s background.

  He continued. “They need to use my place, so it works out. I can stay in the house, patch it up, and then flick it off.”

  There was a feeling rising through her. Boiling blood. The last time she’d felt it this strongly had been when the local council transport planners had mandated that heritage pohutukawa trees be removed for a new motorway extension when it was clear to anyone with half a brain they could be retained. In the end, the trees had been saved, thanks to her, Barry, and the Save Our Pohutukawa campaign.

  She doubted Ethan gave a damn about pohutukawa trees.

  And she doubted anything was going to save her from this...this...whatever the heck this situation was.

  “Why that house?” she asked finally.

  He took a glass of champagne from another passing waiter, took a sip, appeared to consider the taste. Seemed satisfied with it.

  “Because,” he said, looking her in the eye, “it was a good price. It has a lot going for it.” He took another sip. “And I could do with the challenge. Something to do,” he added, then his mouth tightened. As if he regretted saying that. Admitting that.

  “What is it you do, anyway?” she asked, curious. “For a day job.” All she’d known was that he was now in property development, but she hadn’t been sure if he actually worked on projects or just paid other people to make him money.

  “I have a number of enterprises. I like challenge.”

  Vague. Typical.

  “And renovating properties is one of those portfolios?”

  He looked straight back at her. “It is now.”

  She stiffened. “So you’ve never done this before?”

  “Not to this extent. I normally start from scratch with bare land. But don’t worry. I’ve got Jack assisting on the architectural side and Robyn’s got ideas on what to do inside. Given she’s lived there for the past two years and has an eye for colour and design, she’s happy to help.”

  Sage glanced across at Robyn. Her best friend. Her blissfully happy best friend. Robyn caught her staring and waved.

  She waved back, and the minute Robyn looked away, Sage scowled. So Robyn had known Ethan was going to buy the place? And hadn’t told her?

  To be fair, Robyn had been tied up with the wedding, and as soon as the announcement had hit the papers, her business had taken of
f, with orders for the clothing collection she could only have dreamt of a few months ago. But even so…

  A sense of panic began to trickle through Sage, settled on her chest, settled inside her. As if her life was beginning to slip away.

  What if the bouquet was right and Harriet did get married and moved away? Robyn had left—Robyn who had been her sanity these past couple of years. And now? Now that... Ethan was moving in next door, and she didn’t know for how long. He might say it was a few months, but it could be years. It was his house. He could stay there as long as he damn well liked.

  My equilibrium is shot, she thought, and earth shifted underneath her in a very unsettling way.

  “Steady.” Ethan reached out and gripped her upper arm. He looked at her closely. “Have you had too much to drink?”

  “No.” She felt so out of sorts she didn’t even have the energy to retort. Woozy, she grabbed his arm and said, “I don’t know. Something just came over me.”

  She was eye-level with his chest. She looked up to his face. He was looking down at her. The air between them seemed to disappear.

  She sucked in a breath. The air can’t vanish, she told herself with forced calm. They were outside. There were trees everywhere. A harbour right in front of them. The air can’t vanish.

  And now there was a look on Ethan’s face. In his eyes. She had the strangest thought it matched her own. Total confusion.

  Then it vanished, and he dropped her arm. “You okay now?”

  She reached for a glass of champagne from the ever-passing waiter.

  Ethan gestured to the glass. “Should you be drinking any more?”

  She stared in disbelief at him.

  “Relax,” he said. “I’m kidding. I haven’t seen you drink even a drop.”

  He held his own glass out to her. “But since you are now, let’s make a toast.”

  She felt more normal. This was normal. This was life. Two mature – she mentally choked on that word – mature adults toasting their best friends.

  “To Jack and Robyn,” she agreed.

  His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t thinking of the happy couple. I was thinking of toasting our new status. As neighbours.”