Page 21 of Her Christmas Wish
“Yeah, full bred,” Harper said, climbing fully up on the porch to sit in the empty chair. “I never saw myself for such a big dog, but she’s the most gentle, kind being I’ve ever known.”
A note in her voice gave Gray the impression that perhaps Harper had known a particularly unkind being at some point, but he let it pass. Offered the woman a beer instead.
And spent the next half hour feeling like a normal guy enjoying a few relaxing moments after a good day’s work.
As she got up to leave, Harper seemed open to a repeat experience. Gray opened his mouth to offer—she was not only beautiful, but also an accomplished choreographer and dancer—but then he shut his chin without saying anything more than that he’d probably see her around.
He’d enjoyed his time chatting with her.
He’d enjoyed Aggie more.
And didn’t want to even consider the idea that seeing Sage Martin again, feeling her presence down the beach, had anything to do with his reactions.
At. All.
Chapter Seven
Sage had seen them, of course. Even before Leigh had seen Harper’s Aggie and had darted up the beach toward the huge gentle dog.
Scott, who’d been on his way home from his nightly exercise with Morgan, had grabbed up Leigh, pretending to eat her neck, making her squeal, and had brought her back to the porch where Sage had been standing.
She’d gone out when Leigh had seen Scott and Morgan through the sliding glass door and had run out to give the corgi a hug.
The little girl had grown up on the beach, seeing her uncle and his dog most evenings. Sage couldn’t expect, overnight, to have the child suddenly confined to the cottage. Or even to try to do so.
But when Scott had asked if she had a problem with Grayson bunking in his spare room, she’d pictured him in the cottage.
Not out on the beach.
To his credit, he hadn’t stepped off Scott’s porch.
There was absolutely no reason why Grayson Bartholomew couldn’t relax with a beautiful woman.
And as a human being, Harper was one of the best.
Sage had it all worked out satisfactorily in her mind, except for the part where seeing Gray with Harper was ripping at her.
“Are those cookies I smell?” Scott asked, depositing Leigh on the porch and waiting to follow the little girl back into the cottage, Morgan beside him.
“Chocate chip!” Leigh said. “Mommy maked them. Even afore dinner!”
Bringing up the rear of the small procession, Sage smiled, with a twinge of guilt mixed in. She’d started the cookies to keep Leigh’s attention inside. The little girl loved to help. And lick the bowl.
Sage hadn’t accounted for the minutes after the bowl was licked and the cookies were cooling. Which was when Leigh had been staring longingly outside and had seen Scott.
She fed her daughter the “sketti” leftovers she wanted. And then, while Leigh sat in her booster chair, spooning as much spaghetti sauce on her lips and chin as she was getting into her mouth, Sage collected and started chopping the myriad vegetables she’d be combining into a salad for herself. Some nights just felt like she couldn’t stomach anything but pure health food.
She didn’t ask Scott if he wanted to stay. He had a houseguest. And she didn’t want to know about their dinner plans, or lack thereof.
Didn’t need to hear any of the details of Gray’s private life.
Her twin didn’t take the hint and leave.
Scott leaned back against the counter, his gaze mostly in the direction of Morgan, who was on duty around Leigh’s chair, scarfing up anything that dropped. “You have something you want to tell me?” he asked.
She couldn’t stand there looking him in the eye. She was using a very sharp knife. Had to keep her focus on the blade and the veggies between her fingers. “No.”
“Anything you probably should?”
