Page 47 of Under the Ink

Probably a bad idea. “Nah. I’m just gonna head to my room and hit the hay.” And take a long shower—or maybe a bath. It had been a few days since they’d stayed in a hotel and she wanted to enjoy every second of alone time.

“Aw, c’mon, Naomi. We got tomorrow off—so let’s have fun tonight. You can sleep when you’re dead.”

The way he tilted his head was absolutely adorable—and she didn’t get the feeling that he had any sinister plans involving the bottle. In fact, by this point, she’d started to feel like Sage was a friend out here in the wilderness.

Wilderness… That was an almost funny concept. She was enjoying the hell out of this job now, and Sage was part of why.

Was she starting to think of him as more than a friend?

No way.

Yeah, he was good looking, funny, and nice—but they would never be more than friends.

Ever.

Still…what would it hurt to have a little fun? Naomi rarely drank around people. Ginny was the only exception and even those times were rare. If she didn’t drink too much—and kept an eye on her bottle—it’d be okay.

“All right. Fine. Let’s go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good deal. And we’ll make sure to keep a little brandy stocked for our parties from now on.”

“No, that’s okay.”

After they walked out of the room, Sage tossed his empty bottle into the trashcan. In the hallway, it was much quieter, so he lowered his voice. When he did, he spoke in a fake British accent, the corners of his lips pulled down, his eyes half closed. “Your secret’s safe withme, dahling. I’ll never tell.”

“Like brandy’s afahn-cydrink?”

Sage laughed, apparently amused that she was joining in his fun. “Isn’t it?”

She’d never thought of it that way before. All she knew was that, when she was in middle school, she’d gone to a slumber party—and after the parents of the girl had gone to sleep, all the young ladies had raided the liquor cabinet, taking mostly small sips of everything available. Naomi had discovered back then that she hated most alcoholic drinks—but brandy she could tolerate.

It had since become akin to love. If a person could feel that way about strong beverages.

Again with the accent: “Don’t people use it as anaperitif?”

Naomi couldn’t help but continue laughing. “I don’t know. What’s an aperitif anyway?”

“Oh. I actually know this one. It’s like if you drank your appetizers instead of ate them. Like a liquid appetizer.”

“No way.”

“Okay, so I’m stretching it. Theyaredrinks before a meal—but if they substitute for a starter? I couldn’t tell ya. All’s I know is if you can have a liquid lunch, you can have a legit liquid appetizer.”

“So where are we going?” Naomi asked as they left the hotel and stood on the sidewalk. Once more, she could swear she felt the pulse of the city beneath her feet…and, damn, was it energizing.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a liquor store right there, right at the end of the block.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Just trust me.”

Those were famous last words—andtrustinghim would be no small feat for Naomi. But instead of saying so, she simply nodded. “Lead the way.”

After they’d taken a few steps, Sage asked, “I know it’s probably bad form to ask, but I gotta know: do you like our band?”

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