Stroke of Love (17 page)

“Yeah, I guess. I just…You picked up on that, right? I mean…he wasn’t even a little excited to see me.”
God, I sound like a needy brat
.

“Look at you! All jealous over a drawing. Is this the same Kate who hasn’t needed a man in forever? The Kate who runs an entire program in a developing nation far away from everyone she knows, without any help? Suddenly you’re lost without Sage? What’s up with that?” Luce started with a teasing voice, but her tone grew serious.

Kate stewed on the way into town. She didn’t even know what this thing with Sage was. A fling? A relationship? How could she know? They hadn’t defined it. She’d just gone along with her feelings—for once—and it felt good. But it also felt confusing as hell.

“Luce, I shouldn’t feel hurt that he wanted to draw instead of being with me, right? I mean, if I had to make a choice between seeing him and attending a meeting for the well, I’d still go to the meeting. It’s the same thing, right?”

“He’s just doing what artists do, Kate.”

Kate sighed. “Well, then, it’s probably a good thing I find out now rather than later. It’s also probably a good thing that I didn’t give in and let him make paintings to sell back in New York, or I’d never see him.”

“You know I love you, right?” Luce said as they walked into the cozy café. The interior walls were painted bright yellow, and there were several small tables. Three older men sat at a table near the back, three bottles of beer on the table and two empty plates. Their leathery skin was heavily wrinkled from the sun, and bags of fatigue hung heavily beneath their eyes. Luce chose a table off to the side.

“But?”

“This whole thing is kind of ridiculous. He should be painting and selling what he makes in New York to fund the community here. Who cares what it does for his career? I’m not saying he’d do it for his career, because he’s
definitely
not like that.”

They ordered drinks and dinner from a middle-aged woman in a dark skirt and blouse whom Kate recognized from the village, but she could not recall her name. She wore her long hair loose, and when she smiled, her yellow teeth contrasted sharply against her dark skin.

“So you think I’m being ridiculous? After all the crap you’ve seen that goes on here with celebrities showing up just to increase their own exposure?” She took a long drink. A margarita had never tasted so good.

“I just think that you should take whatever you can get.” Luce lifted her drink. “I mean, funding-wise and Sage-wise.” She winked.

On one level, Kate knew Luce was right, but on another level, allowing things that only furthered celebs public relations went against everything Kate stood for. She looked at her friend, her straight blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, no makeup on her face, her tank top hanging off her shoulder, and her eyes locked on Kate. Luce looked nothing like a New York public relations specialist, but at the moment, Kate hated that she sounded exactly like one. She’d been brought up to do the right thing by others, and when it came to the people of Punta Palacia, she felt a protectiveness that she took seriously.
And then there’s how I feel about Sage.

“You know I hate that we don’t have real volunteers out here, so how can you say all that?” She finished her margarita and ordered a second.

“I don’t know, Kate. You’re here.” She shrugged. “Why not make the most of whatever can help the people here? Even if some of it is a little…greasy. Does everything have to be squeaky clean?”

“In my world it kinda does. I feel like if I give in, I’m condoning that behavior.”

Luce narrowed her eyes and locked on Kate’s with a serious stare. “Listen, hon, whether you want to admit it or not, just being here and running a program that serves celebs condones that behavior.”

“Really? Oh God. That’s a horrible thought.”
Am I condoning their behavior?
Kate sighed. It was all overwhelming. “Do you think I’m hurting his career, too, or just not allowing him to make the most of it?” She covered her face with her hands. “Listen to me.
Just not allowing him to make the most of it?
Oh my God. Who am I to
allow
him to do anything? What has happened to me? Somehow I’ve become so attached to what I’m doing here that…that…”

“That you’ve forgotten how the real world works?” Luce asked.

“No. I’m just realizing that maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here in the first place. I’m compromising my own beliefs by catering to celebrities.” It hit her like a kick to the gut.

I allow the system to work the way it does. I assist it. I make it happen. What the hell am I doing?

SAGE GOT UP at the crack of dawn and went to Kate’s cabin. After she and Luce had gone into town last night, he’d tracked down Clayton and Cassidy and told them in no uncertain terms exactly how the rest of their trip was going to go down.
No more talking shit about Kate. No more shirking your responsibilities. You need to pitch in now that Penelope is gone. The people here deserve that much. Kate and Caleb deserve that much.
And by the grace of God, they had acted almost human and agreed. Sage had gone back to his drawing feeling more at ease, and he’d gotten so engrossed that by the time he’d set it down, it was well past two o’clock in the morning. He’d gone to Kate’s cabin, but she was already asleep, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. Even if he’d like nothing more than to sleep with her in his arms.

As he ascended the steps to Kate’s, he inhaled deeply. This walk toward an apology was nothing new to Sage. He’d gotten lost in his art enough times to know exactly what type of an asshole he was. He’d been told off by dozens of women for missing dates or showing up late. Hell, even his own mother had given him grief for missing family dinners, and she understood what it was like to be in the zone. He hated knowing Kate was now added to the list of women who’d felt scorned because of his art.

He saw Kate through the screen door, sitting on the edge of her bed in a pair of shorts and a black tank top and scribbling in a notebook.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How mad are you?”

She turned to face him, and the look in her puffy eyes drew him into the room. She set the notebook on the mattress. He knelt beside her, strangled by guilt. “Kate, I’m really sorry. I get caught up in my work. I can’t help it. It just happens.” He used to make up excuses, but Sage knew that excuses were worthless, and Kate, looking hurt and exhausted, deserved the truth.
This is who I am
. He was the guy who got lost in his art. He always had been, and she needed to understand that.

“I’m not mad.” She touched his cheek and her gaze softened.

“You’re not? Why not?”

She shrugged. “I just have a lot going on, that’s all.” She pushed to her feet. “You aren’t tied to me. You were doing your own thing. That’s fine, Sage. Really.”

“No. It’s not fine, and I’m really sorry.” He leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him quickly, pulling away well before he was ready.

“Kate?” Her eyes were burdened, shadowed, and he knew it was his fault. “I get caught up in my work, and I know it’s wrong and it’s hurtful.”

“Sage, it’s okay. I get caught up in my work, too. Or at least I used to.” She let out a breath and headed for the door. “Your supplies come in this morning.”

“Kate, wait. Can we talk?”
Don’t all women like to talk things through?

“Let’s talk on the way. I want to get coffee and be there when the truck pulls up.”

He bristled against the iciness in her voice and the distance between them as she hurried ahead of him. “Kate?”

She turned toward him and flashed a tense smile.

Shit
. He reached for her hand. “I’m really sorry, but don’t just brush me off. Please.”

“I’m not brushing you off. I just have a lot on my mind.”

That’s when he saw it, a fissure in her steely resolve that bubbled up and dampened her eyes. He closed the gap between them and drew her to his chest, feeling his own heart shatter when her arms remained hanging limply by her sides.

“Kate, I never meant to hurt you.”

She shook her head against his chest and finally lifted her hands to his waist. “I know.”

“You got to see the other side of me. The nonartist side, but when I’m in artist mode, it’s like my mind has tunnel vision. Everything else falls away, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. It’s not like that at all.”

“Sage.”

“It’s like nothing can penetrate the zone my mind goes into.”

“Sage?”

“I’ll understand if you want to ease up on seeing me.”
But I’ll fucking hate it.
“I know my flaws.”

She pushed away from him. “Sage.” She was breathing heavily, her brows knitted together, and her tone was definitely angry.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not mad, okay?” she snapped and shook her head. “I just realized that there’s a bunch of other stuff I need to get worked out. I understand that you get into the zone, or whatever it is that artists do. There is more to me than just you, you know. I have a life here, and work, and responsibilities.”

“I know all of that.”

“Well, I have things to deal with that are bigger than if you show up for a booty call or not.” She pushed past him and stomped toward the path that led to the mess hall.

“A what?” Sage caught up to her and grabbed her arm. He lowered his voice, his chest tight with anger. “A booty call? Is that what you think this is?”
What the hell happened between last night and this morning?

“I don’t know what I think, Sage.” She turned to walk away.

“Hell no, Kate. You’re not getting off that easy.” They stood in the narrow path with giant green leaves surrounding them, streaks of the rising sun’s warmth sneaking through the tall foliage. At any other time it would feel romantic. Now it felt claustrophobic.

“What do you want from me, Sage? I’m in the midst of life-changing things here, and somehow I’m supposed to make all the right decisions for everyone, and…and…” Tears sprang from her eyes. “And it doesn’t really matter what I do, because AIA might pull out anyway, and then the people here will be left with nothing. And I’m screwing up your career by not allowing you to paint, or sculpt, or whatever it is you want to do and sell in New York.”

He reached up and brushed the tears from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. The pieces of her broken heart were falling into a more understandable puzzle. “You’re overwhelmed. I was just the icing on the cake.”

“I am not,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Goddamn, she was cute, but Sage knew better to say
that
aloud. That’s when he remembered his mother’s advice.
Telling a woman to calm down, or that she’s overwhelmed, or that a few pounds don’t matter are all cause for a fight or an emotional meltdown. Don’t go there, Sage
. Too late.

“I’ve handled more than this.” She glared at him.

Afraid of saying the wrong thing and knowing Kate could handle anything she was dealt, he simply wrapped his arms around her and held her. She struggled against him, but he didn’t relent. Even angry and overwhelmed, she needed love. She turned in to him, her body rigid. He scooped her up into his arms and guided her legs around his waist.

“Don’t get any dirty ideas. I just want to hug you.” He flashed a flirtatious smile.

She laughed under her breath, allowing him to hold her. His cheek found hers, and with one hand beneath her and the other wrapped tightly around her back, he whispered, “You were never a booty call.”

Only then did the rigidity leave her body.

“I’m sorry, Kate. I’ll make more of an effort to be in tune to what you’re going through. But please don’t shut me out.”

Kate pressed her cheek to his and placed her hand on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be sorry. Just be you. I lo—like all of you. Mad. Sad. Happy. I’ll take my knocks for letting you down. I deserve them. Hell, I’ll even take the brunt of you feeling angry at everyone else, but just remember who I am after you come out of your anger, and I’ll try to do the same.”

Sage knew that promising and doing were two entirely different things. He had faith in himself to try to not fall into oblivion when he was working on his artwork, but he didn’t have faith that trying would lead to success. He’d tried before and failed.

He set her back down on the ground. “Tell me what I can do to help with what you’re dealing with.”

“Just…” She let out a loud breath and looked away. “I don’t want to be one of those needy women, but can you just try to let me know if you
think
you’re not going to see me when you say you are?”

Sure, but I’d be lying. I never know when I’ll fall into the zone.
When he looked into her eyes, he knew he wanted to be the man she needed him to be. He didn’t know how to get from here to there, but he wanted to try.

She met his gaze, and he placed his hands on her cheeks. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I’ll try my best to be more thoughtful, but I need a safety net.”

She smiled. “A safety net?”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Yeah. I know myself, Kate. It’s not like I enjoy letting people down, or coming across self-centered when I’m in my own little world. I need to know that if I fail, you won’t walk away. You’ll help me through.”

They began walking down the path.

“So let me get this straight. When you forget to show up, I’m supposed to…what? Come get you and remind you that you forgot about me?”

He smiled down at her. “That would be great.”

She smacked his arm.

“What? Not good?”

“Not even fair,” she said.

“Okay, then
if
I forget, you can be as angry as you want, but just don’t give up on me.”

She was quiet for a long time. When they took a seat at the table by the door in the mess hall, he said, “I’m worth it.”

She cranked her mouth to the side and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m kinda cute, I’m pretty talented, and best of all”—he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it—“I’ll try to anticipate your needs.”

“You are cute, and you’re wicked talented, but the other thing? You had no clue what I was upset about this morning, so I don’t think so. Nice try, though.” She leaned across the table and kissed him. “Okay. I’ll help you through it, but I expect you to be worth it.” She raised her eyebrows in rapid succession.