Page 109 of Hidden Ties

“I thought you would order a margarita or some other girly drink,” he admitted.

She made a face at him. “I hate tequila. I’d rather have a cold beer than anything.” Interestedly, she stared around the restaurant. “My dad used to make his own. I was his taste tester. My mother and sister wouldn’t drink it if they had a gun pointed at them.”

“It sounds like you and your father are close.”

She turned her attention back to him. “We were.” Sadness filled her as she thought of those precious moments she had spent with her father. “Before he died.”

“I’m sorry.” Sympathetically, his hand covered hers lying on the table.

“Thank you. He passed away several years ago. At first, I couldn’t bring myself to drink a beer. Then my mother told me the last thing my dad would want was me not drinking one because I missed him.”

“Sounds like your mother is a wise woman.”

“Yes, she was.”

Kent closed his eyes tightly in a grimace then opened them warily. “I’m not going to mention any more of your family members. I keep putting my foot in my mouth.”

“It’s all right. I’ve learned to deal with my losses.”

“I don’t think any of us ever get over the loss of a loved one.”

“Very true.”

His kindness, and the comforting way he was looking at her, sent a warm glow through her body. After her father had died, she had to soldier on to make everything easier for her mother and Glory. When her mother had died, she had borne the grief alone, while Glory had Denny to lean on. When Denny had died, all the reasonability fell on her shoulders to help Glory. In each instance, she had buried her feelings, afraid if she loosened her barrier, she would break.

Being here with Kent, and the way he was looking her, blunted some of the ice she had encased herself in. Being with him was like walking out a door, wearing winter clothes, to find spring had arrived.

You’re being silly, Sage, she told herself.He’s just offering you a congratulatory drink. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Still, she didn’t move her hand away until the waitress returned with their beers.

He watched as she took a drink. “What do you think?”

“Not bad.”

Kent chuckled then took a sip of his own. The busy waitress looked as if she couldn’t care less.

“Bring us a wing sampler, Haley.”

“Sure thing.”

She was already speeding away, and Sage admired how she managed to carry the huge tray of drinks without spilling any.

“If I tried that, they would be on the floor.” She surveyed the busy bar while taking another drink of her beer. “I had no idea this place was so popular.”

“It’s happy hour. Buy one beer, get one free, and wings are half-price,” he informed her.

“Ahh … that explains it.” She raised the beer to salute him. “It certainly makes me happy,” she joked.

Kent raised his beer in return to salute her back. “I’m pretty damn happy myself.”

Sage paused with the beer halfway to her mouth. Explicitly, a warning chill went down her spine. Why was something telling her his reason for being happy wasn’t the same as hers? The warm, fuzzy feeling she had been feeling in his presence turned lukewarm. The prices at the bar might be happy hour, but falling for Kent Bryant might be more than her heart could afford.

FOURTEEN

Kent sat, watching the young woman sitting across the table from him. Sage was shy, yet every now and then, her vibrant and warm personality would slip past her guard. Her brownish-black hair was pulled tightly from a heart-shaped face. Was she aware her light blue eyes were windows to her soul? Every emotion she felt was easily discernable. He could see her wariness while also the attraction she was fighting.

Deliberately, he maintained the friendly, considerate vibe he had treated her to since he had met her. When she saw him at the office after he found her cleaning at Matthias’, he had read her fear he would recognize her.

While Sage wasn’t adapt at hiding her emotions, he was more than capable of hiding his. He made his living by never letting his emotions enter any aspect of his life. Women were kept at an emotional distance, even when they were having sex. There was no one he considered a friend. Having friends or a woman made you vulnerable. In his line of work, emotions would get you killed. Each person he allowed into his life had a purpose. Whether it was sex, expanding his network of useful pawns, or clients, they remained in a chosen category he assigned them and were never allowed to become more important than theothers. That was how he kept his emotions intact, which in turn kept him and them alive.