One Hundred & Fifty-Five
Oliver’s [POV]
Death by Celine Dion was an actual thing. Who knew?
I would, by the end of this night.
Worst of all, the evening had started so innocuously. Well, after the blowjob that nearly blew my damn head off. But once I’d gotten out of the hot tub, wrung out my shorts, and slipped into the shower to clean up, my mind started to clear. Some. I was still revved up, almost to the point that I would’ve sworn I hadn’t come.
And I had. Incredibly. Right into the waiting mouth of the most gorgeous pain in the ass, I’d ever known.
She was waiting for me when I got out of the shower. Not knowing what exactly her idea of dinner consisted of, I’d gone with a slate-gray suit and vest, sans tie. She had on a slinky navy sheath that hugged her curves, and her still-wet hair hung in long, curling waves down her back. My fingers had tingled at the sight of it. Fisting it had felt way too damn good. Natural.
As would taking a palm to her tight little ass.
Her smile had been saucy as if she’d been let in on a big secret. Knowing. Yet she didn’t have a clue of all the pleasures that awaited her.
Assuming I didn’t kill her before the end of the night.
We ate at a swanky restaurant called Caribou, and she was her usual self with everyone who helped us the maitre d’, our server, and the manager who walked around making sure everyone was happy with their food. Yet she barely spoke to me. She ordered salmon with a small green salad, and we shared an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms and lots of awkward silence.
Were regrets setting in already?
For dessert, she selected a piece of cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry glaze, big enough to share. I wasn’t huge on sweets, but they looked delicious. I was about to dig in when she let out a small sigh.
“Celine Dion is who I listened to when I found out my parents were selling the bed-and-breakfast. She helped heal me.”
I would’ve laughed at the healing part if she didn’t seem so serious about it. One point for keeping my damn mouth shut for once. I continued slicing off a thin wedge of cake before transferring it to my plate.
“How did she do that?”
“I had no warning. Well, a little warning. I came home on summer break, ready for another summer of helping everyone, and my parents sat me down in the great room and told me they had exciting news. I thought maybe we’d been featured in one of the big touristy magazines or something.” She rested her cheek on the back of her hand and dipped her fork into the puddle of glaze that had accumulated on the plate. But she didn’t eat. “They didn’t even ask me or let me down gently, or hell, even gives me a chance to put some funds and resources together. It was a done deal. They were selling the bed-and-breakfast and retiring to travel, and wasn’t that so wonderful for me? I’d be truly on my own.”
“But it wasn’t wonderful. You didn’t want to be on your own.” When she didn’t reply right away, I gestured with my fork. “Eat your cake.”
She startled at my stern tone, though she complied without hesitation. No balking whatsoever. She hadn’t minded my dominance in the Jacuzzi, which fascinated and intrigued me. I wouldn’t have guessed she had a submissive tendency in her body.
Surprise, surprise. There was something there. A fledgling, untried part of her she likely hadn’t had a chance to express.
I hoped to find out more about that side of her. Not now. Now we had a much thornier topic to discuss.
“No, I didn’t want to be on my own. My life had been about my family and working at the bed-and-breakfast every spare moment. I’d hoped one day to make it my own.”
That dovetailed with what Ally had told me, but it was always better when it was corroborated from the horse’s mouth.
“Did you inform your parents of that?”
Sage dragged her fork through the curls of ganache, spearing one and then delicately eating it off the tines. I was certain she wasn’t trying to be alluring. It was as natural as her innocence.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.
Completely intoxicating.
“I thought they knew. It wasn’t as if I’d hidden how much I loved the hospitality industry. I minored in it in school. My free time was theirs for years. I loved the work, so it wasn’t a hardship. And I was good at it too.”
“But they never asked you if you wanted to take over, and you never told them you wanted to. You also never want back to school.”
“Why should I? I’d gone to school for interior design and hospitality, and now the bed-and-breakfast was gone. Or it was going. By then, they already had prospective buyers. I didn’t have a business background to raise that kind of capital on my own,” she added as if guessing my next question. “Besides, they didn’t think I could do it alone. Maybe they were right.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
She jerked a shoulder and set down her fork. She’d eaten a few bites after my directive, but she’d swiftly slowed down again. “I’m sure it doesn’t make sense to you. You’ve never struggled with your confidence.”
“That’s not true. But even if it were, I know I can ask for help. There are people I can turn to. Options always exist.”
Even as I said the words, they rang hollowly in my ears.
Me, ask for help? I’d never asked anyone for anything. Couldn’t. It was as if my vocal cords froze up when I made a request that required someone to do something for me out of the kindness of their hearts.
So, I commanded and cajoled, and if that didn’t work, slyly threatened. I’d honed those skills through years in the real estate business. My father tolerated no fools and put up with no weakness, including from his sons. Especially from his sons.
“It all seemed so overwhelming, so I shut down. They offered me a small piece of the selling price for school, and I invested it.”
“You have no intention of going back to school.”
“Didn’t I just say that? Why should I? I don’t need to have stage rooms in my daily life. I work in a diner. And the education in hospitality I’ve already received is more than adequate to deal with my customers.”
“You also have no intention of touching that money.”
Her defensive posture matched the flare of annoyance in her eyes. “They sold something I loved. No, I don’t want the money. I have no use for it. I do fine at the diner.”
My default reaction was to laugh. Snidely, as my father would have. The sound rumbled in my chest and her head lifted her soft, wary gaze hardening. So I shoved it down.
I wasn’t my goddamn father, and my father wouldn’t have tolerated such rudeness toward Sage in any case. The senior Hamilton had always loved her. I’d once believed it was because her family was made up of well-to-do, salt-of-the-earth types who pleased his Puritan soul. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
It might’ve just been the magic of Sage Evans, making friends out of foes everywhere she went.
“Tell me how Celine healed you.” Not saying it sarcastically was a challenge and a half.
Jesus, being a nice person was difficult.
She sniffled. Her eyes didn’t look wet, thank God, but there was the emotion behind the gesture. “You don’t care.”
“Yes, I do care, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
She took another bite of cake, but she wasn’t getting nearly the pleasure from it I’d expected. I’d rather been looking forward to watching her enjoy the types of cuisine she didn’t get at home. Instead, she’d been glum, and it probably had to do with my hasty dismissal of Celine not blowing me in the hot tub.
Small favors, I supposed.
“I have trouble letting my emotions out sometimes. My dad’s a real stoic type, and my mom is so emotional that she used to make me vow not to be like her. So I stuffed down everything. Watching Titanic and listening to ‘My Heart Will Go On’ loosened the logjam.” She gestured with her free hand at her chest. “In here.”
Rather than say something I was certain would not help, I made a humming noise and forked up more cake.
“Winning this trip and tickets to see her, well, it seemed like kismet. I was fine with going alone.” She tipped back her head and glanced at the ceiling. “Fine, I was hoping to meet someone who might enjoy her too. There have to be men who are comfortable with their sensitive sides, right?”
“Sensitive sides, sure. Guys with sensitive sides who will make your eyes roll back in your head and listen voluntarily to Celine?” I shrugged. “Few and far between, princess.”
The sweet name just slipped out, as it had earlier. But all at once, a change seemed to come over her. She straightened and her eyes cleared, and she smiled in that same sexy way she had back in the hotel room for a brief instant that had made me think she’d forgotten all about the Celine nonsense.
“You know, you’re right. I’m putting far too much importance on this.” She leaned forward, and like the lech I was, my gaze dipped to the plunging vee of her dress.
God, she had some rack on her. Now that I’d seen them completely bare, I was even more riveted by them.
Christ, stop acting like you just got out of prison. Eyes up. She’s speaking to you.
“I’ve never had a nickname before, except my mom. She calls me a few things, but sweet pea is her favorite.” She smiled so shyly that my goddamn heart lurched. “I like a princess.”
I shifted toward her across the table, extending my arm so I could rub my thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Missed a dab of cake, princess,” I said deliberately, drawing my thumb back to suck it into my mouth.
She watched the movement avidly, her breath rushing out between her parted lips.
“It’s okay if you don’t like Celine. Maybe you could gamble while I’m at the show?” she asked breathlessly.
I had to smile. She was giving me an out, but she wasn’t missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity even if I wasn’t interested. She was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for.
So much more alluring.
“I will admit she’s not my favorite, but she’s extremely talented. If you’d like to go, we’re going.”
“We are?”
The glow on her face was worth enduring anything. Even a warbler with an annoying accent. “Absolutely.” I inclined my chin toward her plate. “If you finish your cake.”
She dug into it eagerly, and just watching her eat was a pleasure unto itself. She was so lusty in everything she did at least when she stopped letting fear rule her.
I couldn’t wait to see her blossom even more.
Once she’d finished her cake and I’d paid the bill after a scuffle, since she wanted to use her dining allowance from the radio station we went outside to catch a ride to The Colosseum.
“No, never mind riding. It’s such a beautiful night. I want to walk.” Sage clasped my hand, lacing her fingers with mine as she gazed up at me. “Okay?”
Saying no to her was going to become a problem, I could already tell.
Instead of an answer, I squeezed her hand and waved off the waiting car.