Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

For her to tell the world she was mine?

She wasn’t. Her being in my bed most nights since we’d returned home—or me in hers—didn’t change that.

Still, born from tattered cloth. And besotted by incredible sex. I could only be blamed for so much.

“You’ve been working a lot lately.” Seth dumped more cream in his coffee. I was waiting for him to start ordering the cream pitcher with a dab of coffee in it. “Staying late at the office a lot, coming in later the next morning. If you’re going to be tied up with paperwork while you have Laurie, we’d just as soon have Sage help out instead.”

My gaze lit upon the woman in question as she stopped to help the couple at the next booth, the Gundersons.

“I’m sure if I’m unavoidably detained with work, Sage would be willing to assist me. Wouldn’t you, Sage?” I lifted my voice just enough for her to glance my way as she poured Mrs. Gunderson’s coffee.

That was another one of my addictions—finding ways to get Sage to make eye contact with me. I sure as hell couldn’t stop watching her, so it only seemed fair she repay the favor.

She nodded at me, indicating she’d be over in a moment. I frowned. She was rubbing her back again. Did she have ibuprofen in her locker? I could always run to the drugstore and pick up some if she didn’t.

Hearing my own thoughts, my frown only grew. Christ, I sounded whipped. As bad as Seth.

I could not be as bad as Seth.

Could I?

Ally glanced over her shoulder at Sage then returned her attention to the table. “I’m worried about her,” she said in a low voice.

So what else was new? But I didn’t say that. Perhaps she knew something I didn’t. Being inside of Sage every night definitely didn’t make me privy to the inner workings of her mind. If anything, I’d say she was working hard at not sharing more of herself with me than her body.

Not that I’d noticed overmuch.

Jesus, I was going to need a journal like Sage if I didn’t kill this shit fast.

“Why is that?” I drank more coffee. At this rate, I’d have to settle for texting Sage one-handed from the urinal.

“She just seems awfully tired and out of sorts lately. She’s quiet when she comes over.”

Of course she was quiet, since she had to hide her life. Her choice, but somehow it didn’t feel that way. It felt as if the decision she’d made had only partially had to do with her own desires, and her need not to be second-guessed by my family. Perhaps her own as well.

“Maybe she’s depressed,” Seth said equally quietly, keeping an eye out for Sage’s arrival from the nearby booth. “She’s been different since Vegas.” This he delivered with a beady-eyed stare that hadn’t intimidated me when I was ten and certainly did not now.

“She doesn’t seem depressed to me. I’d almost say she’s been ebullient when in my presence.” She approached the table, coffeepot in hand, her eyes narrowed on my nearly empty cup. I finished it off and grinned. “Isn’t that right? Look at that smile.”

She rolled her eyes and held out a hand for the cup. Forgetting our shtick, I took the pot from her and poured my own, returning it to her as I noticed Seth closely watching the proceedings.

Damn nosy bastard. That was a trait I absolutely did not share with him. I always stayed in my own lane.

“Who says I’m depressed?” Before anyone could answer, she set down the pot and rubbed the small of her back. “I think you’ve got me confused with the obsessive caffeine junkie seated across from you. Though he’s not depressed so much as clearly needing a jolt. Or three hundred,” she added pointedly as I again picked up my coffee.

Truth be told, I would probably need a detox program after this lunch. Water for me from now on.

“You just seem a bit different lately is all.” Ally rested her hands on her enormous belly and flashed a wan smile. “Then again, everyone seems different to me. Damn hormones. I’m ready to get this baby out.”

“Me too. We have a lot of time to make up for if we go for that nine we talked about.” Seth winked and she whacked him in the shoulder.

“Not nearly hard enough,” I told her, leaning across the table. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

“Children,” Sage said, her voice reeking with fatigue. “Save the schoolyard skirmishes for somewhere else. I’d hate to have to toss all three of you out.” She cocked her head at me. “Well, I’d hate to toss two of you out. The other I wouldn’t miss.”

With that, she flounced off, but it felt false. Sage without a smile was like summertime without the sun. Her big green eyes had been flat, listless. As if she was going through the motions.

We hadn’t been sleeping a lot lately. A few hours a night at most. There never seemed to be enough time to explore each other in all the ways we wanted. I had to believe she was experiencing the same urgency I was, since her needs were as omnipresent as my own.