Just because people hear me laugh doesn’t mean my life is easy. Just because I have a smile on my face every day doesn’t mean something is not bothering me. I choose to move on with the negatives in my life and keep my head up instead of dwelling in the past.

Been there, done that. Wrote a book all about that shit.

Here lately, though, my mood has become septic. If the guys were around, they’d be all over this dark Lukas. Buttoning it down and tamping it out. For now, I can stew in peace. The only reprieve from the darkness is Sage.

As the starry night filters through the slightly opened drapes of the window, the haze off the moonlight reaches in like fingers, caressing, comforting me in my passionate state. It reminds me not to be unhappy because the latest round of sexual pleasure is over. At the present, my sated expression sends a shiver through my pleasured body, reminding me of the satisfaction that it happened. Again.

The old saying ‘Nobody said the road to heaven would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it’ comes to mind. It’s the truth. Sage Blackwood is worth every single torture I endure on a daily basis.

My breathing’s still moderately erratic, as sweat drips from my temples due to the blazing pinnacle release. I roll over onto my side; the memory foam mattress dips and molds to my substantial form, and a smaller arm collapses nonchalantly across my waist.

I prop up my head against my fist and ogle the naked body of my princess. Her breath is even and steady, red swollen lips slightly parted. Sated. Dark thick hair fans out in stark contrast to the white pillow beneath her perfect head.

As Sage sleeps, the movement in her chest captures me. I’m enthralled by the sight of her dark pink nipples, pebbling up from the cold. For shits and giggles, I pluck one taunt peek, and extract a slight squirm along with a rumpled headshake. It’s followed by a few nonsensical words tumbling from her lips, along with one of the cutest snort-snores my ears have ever heard.

Shock and awe thunder inside, while Sage peacefully sleeps beside me. For the very first time in the history of our non-relationship, I’m not being tossed out of the bed. For the first time, Sage has fallen asleep right alongside me.

For a time, I lie beside Sage and listen to the musical sounds of her soft snores. I hook a few stray locks fallen across her face and twist them around my finger. The soft silky-smooth hair slips from my fingers. Surprisingly, she doesn’t stir. Fascinating.

I gently crawl out of bed, careful not to make a sound, adjusting my prosthetic before I stand. Finding my pants where I tossed them to the floor, I collect my crack pipe.

The moonlight streaming through the window entices the senses, and I marvel at the beauty of the illuminated night. Concentrating on the view from here, I adjust the curtain, which allows more light into the room. Millions of diamond-shaped effervescent orbs cover the velvet darkness.

In the glow of the light enveloping the room, I’m absorbed by the sensation of standing in the middle of the universe, powerful, full of knowledge. Yet at the same time I acknowledge the insignificance of being a small spec in a vast cosmos.

Warmth spreads through my body, soliciting a soul-deep need to cherish the sleeping beauty lying in the bed. A primitive necessity to protect for safekeeping.

Automatically, the e-cig extends to my mouth, and I siphon a deep, long inhale. On exhale, the shroud of smoke briefly covers the pane of glass, leaving behind moisture in its wake.

Blindly, I reach out and draw an S&L in the condensation. What the fuck, Luc? I smudge the window and draw another long puff on my crack pipe.

Hearts and flowers, mushy shit. It’s a ball tamer. I’ve never been a hearts-and-flowers kind of guy. Nope, just not me. Respect for the women in my life? Of course. But invariably, I love and leave. Any woman who made it to my bed never left unsatisfied. Not only that, I dabbled in the sexual arts with many different kinds of women. A rainbow of colors: red, yellow, black, or white, I have no prejudice when ladies are concerned. I love them all. Loved them all. Until Sage.

My gaze travels back to her. What have you done to me, minx?

Unhooking my leg and propping it on the wall beside me, I crawl back into bed. The bed moderately sags from my weight, and an unconscious Sage snuggles closer to my chest. Guiding her head into the crook of my arm, I gather her pliable body until she’s so close, her breath tickles the skin of my chest.

I snuggle with Sage, my weary soul on the verge of seducing sleep. My thoughts roam, spawning a tingling pleasure pulsing in my heart.

Protect.

Peace.

Home.

Sage.

Presently, I’m standing in front of the coffee pot, pouring a cup of coffee, and I’m trying to wake my ass up. I’m pissed beyond reason; white dots blur my vision, and I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

I woke up to an empty bed. I woke up and Sage was gone. And not just gone to the bathroom or the kitchen. That would be too easy. Her suitcase was gone, and all her belongings with it.

Sage checked out. Fuck!

“What’s up, brother bear?”

A familiar voice interrupts my unpleasant brooding. I welcome the sight-for-sore-eyes, Oliver Bishop lumbering into the room. A goofy, sloppy, happy-as-fuck grin plastering his face.

“Hey, Ols. You made it back,” I grumble, but mosey over for a man-hug shake.

“Yeah. We got in about three hours ago. Didn’t wanna wake anyone up. How’s everythin’ around here? I see you survived.”

His presence lifts my crappy mood.

“That I did. But I’m zonked, man. It’s been a rough week,” I grunt before realizing I may need to revise. “Not any trouble here, per se, Ollie. But there’s trouble brewing elsewhere. I hate to say this, you’re here just in time for the meeting in about twenty minutes. Conference call with the teams.”

“C’mon, Luc. I jus’ got here. Can’t it wait for a little while? Maybe ’til tonight? I haven’t had much sleep. And jet lag is a bitch.”

“No can do, brother from another mother. The honeymoon ended when you walked through the door. We’ve got some nerve-wracking shit going down, and we need everyone in on it.” The vague details catch his attention. “Mustaf resurfaced.”

“No, fuckin’ way. You certain?”

“It’s not a hundred percent, but everything points to a yes, Ols,” I confirm his suspicions.

“Well, fuck a duck,” Oliver sighs. “Ok, give me ten minutes to shit, shower, and shave.” Oliver smirks, a hint of amusement lacing his voice.

“Move your ass, soldier,” I holler. “Not a minute past, knob-head. Go. Go. Go.” I chuckle.

His reminiscing of basic training days deserved my witty response. I’m so damn glad he’s returned.

“Good to see ya, too, Luc,” Oliver counters. He pivots around to leave the kitchen, and his gait slows. Oliver does an about-face. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten our talk that’s comin’, Lukas. After the meetin’, you and I are havin’ that convo.” The determination in Oliver’s eyes projects the sincerity of his words, and he exits.

“If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me. Monkey-nuts. Not going to get out of this one, I’m afraid,” I mumble to the empty room.

Tensions and tempers flare during the conference call. The topic: Mustaf. Cal’s ranting about tying Mustaf to a tree with honey smeared all over him, and MacGyver’s pansy ass getting sick from Cal’s description has my head splitting wide-open from the stress of the situation. No viable plan has emerged. Most of us are trying to wrap our heads around the connections.

“Fuck. I still don’t get how it’s possible. Mustaf is in cahoots with the Cabriccis? All along, the motherfucker has been right under our noses,” Keagan’s voice booms over the speaker.

My up close and personal view of the video screen projects Keagan’s baby bottom head tense, turning blood red as each second ticks off.

“Mac and I are working on digging up those answers, Keagan. We’ll get to the root of the matter, man. Mac’s already found a few ‘books in the library.’”

Oliver croaks and spews the soda from his mouth all over the table. “Fucker. Don’t ya mean needle in a haystack?”

“When in Rome, youse guys,” I snigger, and laughter rumbles off the walls.

“Alright, ladies, rein it in,” Keagan smothers his laugh. “Back to the task at hand. I’ll make contact with Santiago again. Find out if there’s anything more in the wind. Matilda called me yesterday. I have a feeling she may know somethin’ that could help. Gotta call her back to make necessary arrangements for security. Sage, priority one,” Keagan commands.

“I’ve got a few connections in Jacksonville and Miami. Maybe they can shed light on the bullshit haunting the family,” Shannon interjects, trying to help calm the room.

“That’ll help. We all need to have eyes and ears open, twenty-four-seven,” I instruct.

“I know a guy. I’ll make contact and see what he knows, too,” Beauty pipes in. “He may know someone who has firsthand knowledge on Mustaf’s whereabouts and business.”

“I’ll put out feelers. We’ll catch the boyo; if those fuckin’ scumbags are out there, we’ll find ‘em,” Grady jeers.

I’d swear sparks were flickering from his fingertips over the vid.

“Thanks, guys. Keep us informed. Remember, even the smallest detail could be important. We’ll add security detail for the entire family again. Solely focused on Sage,” Keagan insists. “Let’s tear it down to the basics, fucktards.”

“Hoorah,” the chant echoes around the space, decreeing the tremendous badge of honor each man of Trident Security carries. One that’s forged by war, struggle, and strife.

The sun hangs low on the horizon in the Ozarks, beginning its decent behind the mountains. I’ve settled outside, the large open deck a preferred spot, smoking my e-cig. The forefront of my mind: Sage. She’s colonized every part of me. Permanently.

In the last hour, I’ve called Sage about ten times, and voicemail picks up. Sent her about a hundred text messages, too. Yeah, I’m like a lost puppy trying to find his owner. Can’t be helped. The green fiber of my existence roars with the need to hear her voice. To assure the Hulk she’s safe.

Her plane touched down in Lakeview early morning, before lunchtime. She answered once and then went silent again. I pace the expansive area, pounding out the aggravation. There’s no reason for her to still have her phone off. Unless she’s trying to avoid me or someone. Her perky little ass requires attention when I get my hands on her, and I will. My reflecting turns heated, daydreaming of the possibilities.

There has to be a way to make her stay, a way to keep her from running.

“Luc.”

Oliver’s hands firmly grip the rails, shoulders tense. His mouth is formed into a thin line, and I shudder from what’s coming.

“Time to tell me what’s goin’ on, Jolly Green. And I’m not talkin’ about the mission,” Oliver huffs a bark.

“It’s nothing, Ols. Piss off. I’m not in the mood for talking right now.”

“Not an option, bro. I already know what’s goin’ on. Just need you to acknowledge it,” Oliver reveals, and the proficiency of his skill emanates.

Of course, he does.

“Look, Luc. I get it. It’s foreign. But, man, you’ve walked through the pits of hell and came out on top. Made your way back to the land of the livin’. You can do this.”

“I’m not talking about this with you, Bishop. Forget it.” My face is pinched, giving him a fuck-you look. I’m not going down this road.

“Really? So, in other words, Sage doesn’t mean jack shit to you? That’s what your sayin’, Lukas?” Disappointment laces his tone.

“Low blow, bro,” I scoff.

“Huh. A poet, and ya didn’t even know it,” Oliver bites back. Then continues on with his tirade, “Tell me somethin’, Luc. How do you really feel about her? We can all see what you’re too stubborn to admit. The shit’s gotta end, man. It’s been too many years between ya to waste another minute. Too much water under that bridge, and it’s gonna wash away real soon. Unless you do somethin’ about it quick.”

Oliver takes a deep cleansing breath of the crisp afternoon air and rolls his shoulders back. The fucker is right. Shithead.

I just don’t know where to start. Commanding in the bedroom, check. Obsessive, compulsive, I’ve got that down pat. She knows I want her.

“I’ve never…I mean, man, I don’t know how to talk about the sappy shit. I’m a bufflehead, Ols.”

Oliver laughs. “Yeah, you are. But me neither, Luc. Fallyn’s changed a lot for me. And all I do know is, I wouldn’t change the life I’ve found with her and Harper for nothin’. Yeah? I want you to find the same happiness, brother.”

“I hear you. It’s just, every step I take toward her, she takes four steps back, Ollie. It’s like quicksand in the desert; the more I move, the more it pulls me under. I can’t seem to solve this puzzle. Not this time.”

“Nah, you of all people will figure it out, Lukas. It’s better to know how to learn than to know it all. Ya feel me?” Oliver pauses to gather his thoughts. “But piece of advice. Sage is as stubborn as the rest of the Blackwood women. Time to take the bull by the horns. Enough waitin’ around for her to decide, bro. Make that woman yours. Stat.”

Could it be that simple? Go all Neanderthal on her ass, ‘Unga-munga,’ beating my chest, grabbing her by the hair of her head and drag her back into my cave. I chuckle.

“Catch ya later, Luc. You gotta lot of decisions to make,” he finishes, offering his hand, and we shake.

Oliver disappears into the house, and I’m left alone, overloaded. My heart palpitates, running a marathon in my chest. A strange warmth explodes in the pit of my stomach and causes a severe case of cotton mouth. Electrical currents flow, generating excitement.

His words echo in my ears. Make that woman yours. With sweaty palms, I attempt to swallow, inducing a little discomfort of burning and tingling. I clear the lump, and a slow smile forms.

It’s time to control the relationship, and not just in the bedroom.

This could be the most important game I’ve ever played. We’ve played together.

Rolling my shoulders and rigid neck in order to loosen the tension, I close my eyes tightly and sigh.

My eyes spring open wide as realization hits me like cement shoes wrapped around my legs and feet, on the verge of plunging into the ocean.

Forever gone.

Forever changed.

The player, pushing up daisies.

Bases loaded. Grand slam.

I’m in love with Sage Blackwood.