Until Sage

  Aurora Rose Reynolds

  Copyright © 2017 ARR-INC.

  Kindle Edition

  Cover photo and Cover design by Sara Eirew

  Designs: Formatted by BB eBooks

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons or living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ Use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Until Harmony Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  About The Author

  Until Sage

  Until Him

  Dedication

  To Anjelisa

  You were beautiful, with dark hair, and a smile that lit up the world around you. You were far too perfect for this world and taken much too soon.

  May you always know how much you are loved.

  1/10/2002–5/18/2002

  To Elizabeth

  There are people in this world who show you what strength truly is.

  You, my darling, are one of them.

  Prologue

  Science says it only takes four minutes to fall in love with someone.

  I didn’t believe that was true, until I met Sage Mayson.

  Kim

  HEARING A thump, thump, thump, the steering wheel in my hands jerks hard to the left, making me squeak as my car swerves into the oncoming traffic lane. Getting the car back under control, I slow down as it bounces, letting me know I have a flat.

  “Great! Just flipping great.” I pull carefully off the road and onto the shoulder, flipping on my hazards as I put the car in park. Grabbing my cell from my purse sitting in the passenger seat, I curse to myself once more when I see the battery is just about to die. “You should have stayed in bed,” I mutter under my breath, but then I think about the baby blue suede bag I scored for seventy percent off from the underground sale I went to and remember instantly why getting out of bed this morning was so totally worth it.

  Scanning through the contacts in my cell, I find the number for AAA and press call then put the phone on speaker. “Thank you for calling triple A. Your call may be monitored. Please press one for—”

  The phone dies in my hand, and I let out a growl of annoyance. Dropping the now useless piece of crap into the cup holder, I check for traffic and then get out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Checking both tires on the driver’s side, I see both are good, so I move around to the back and drop my hands to my sides. The back right tire is not only flat, but shredded. There is no way I can drive on it without doing major damage to my car.

  Resting my hands on my hips, I scan the road to see if there’s anyone coming, but the street is completely dead. “Looks like you’re on your own.” I’ve never changed a tire in my life, so I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do, but hopefully I can figure it out.

  Going to the trunk, I open it up and pull out the bottom floorboard, where I locate both a spare and a jack. Taking out the jack, I set it on the ground then spend ten minutes trying to unlock the screws for the tire, which seem impossible to remove. Feeling tears of frustration burn the backs of my eyes, I lean into the trunk, resting my forehead on the edge of the spare tire. “This sucks.”

  “Need some help?” a voice asks from behind me. Startled, I jump up, bumping my head on trunk lid, and then quickly pull myself up to stand. Holding the top of my head, I spin around feeling lightheaded. “You okay?”

  “I…” Blinking, my mouth runs dry. “Um….” I stare at the guy in front of me, trying to get my mouth and brain to work in unison. Hot is the only word filtering through my head as I take him in. He’s probably six-two, if not taller, long and lean, with broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and skin that shows he’s a mixture of something beautiful. Smirking, his full lips tip up ever so slightly, making me realize I’m staring at him and still haven’t answered his question.

  Shaking away my sudden stupidity, I mutter, “My tire blew.”

  “You got a spare?” The deep timber of his voice slides over my skin as he steps closer, giving me a full dose of his presence.

  I was wrong; hot isn’t the right word. I don’t think there’s one in the English language to properly describe him. Long, thick lashes make his unusual gray-green eyes stand out. His jaw is angled, hard, and his nose crooks a little to the left, but even with that imperfection, nothing could take away from his beauty.

  “Yeah, I have a spare, but I can’t get it out of the trunk.” I give myself a silent pat on the back for putting together a full sentence without stuttering. As he comes even closer to me, I jump as his hand wraps around my hip, and he moves me to the side, away from the road.

  “Let me take a look.” His head disappears into the trunk, and two seconds later, he stands holding the tire I couldn’t get out moments ago.

  “How did you do that?”

  “You have to push down on the tire while you loosen the bolt.”

  “They should really print that on the tire or something,” I say, feeling my nose scrunch up, and he smiles, showing off a dimple in his right cheek that makes my stomach feel full and melty. Jesus, whoever this guy is, he’s dangerous to the world’s female population.

  Dropping the spare to the ground near the back tire, he grabs the jack and puts it in place. “Do you know how to change a tire?”

  “No,” I reply distractedly, watching the muscles of his arms flex as he takes a long thingy and starts unscrewing the bolts from the tire.

  “What was your plan then?” He pauses, looking up at me, and my eyes move to his.

  “What?”

  “If you got the tire out of the trunk, what was your plan?”

  “I was going to wing it,” I tell him truthfully, and his eyes close briefly as his head shakes side-to-side.

  “Come over here.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m gonna teach you how to change your tire.”

  “Oh.” I take a step toward him. Apparently not close enough, his big hand wraps around mine, and he tugs, forcing my feet to move until I’m practically standing between his bent knees.

  “Now, you always want to loosen the bolts before you get the car off the ground, it makes it easier to remove them once the car’s in the air.”

  “Okay.” I nod, and he smiles again, making me feel like a giddy schoolgirl. This is getting ridiculous. I have never been affected by anyone the way he’s affecting me.

  “All right. I’m going to loosen the bolts then we’re gonna raise the car. Got it?” Nodding, I watch the muscles in his arms flex as he loosens each of the bolts. “Then you use this to pump the jack.” He takes the long thingy in his hand that he loosened the bolts with and uses the flat end of it, sticking it into the jack that he starts pumping. “Once you get the tire off the ground about two inches, you stop.”

  “Okay,” I agree, watching him pull the long thing back out of the jack once the tire is off the ground.

  “After you get the bolts loosened and the car in the air, you remove the bolts completely,” he says as he starts to remove them.

  “Can I try?”

  “Absolutely.” He lets go of the handle, and I take over and try with all my might to turn the bolt, but nothing happens. “Let me help.” He gets close, too close, placing his hand next to mine on the handle. “Push on three.”

  “Okay.” I bite my lip when his body cocoons mine, and his scent of dark, warm amber seeps into my senses.

  “One… two… three.” I push with him, and the bolt spins. “Good job. If you’re having problems getting them loose, you can always stomp it.”

  “Stomp it?” I turn my head to look at him, and he grins.

  “Step on it. Use your body weight to force it to move.”

  “Oh, got it.” I nod and move away from him to get the next bolt off without help, but the last one isn’t as easy. I start to do what he suggested, but he stops me with his hand wrapped around my bicep.

  “You have heels on.” His eyes drop to my three inch wedged espadrilles. “And I’m here, so you don’t need to break your neck.” He leans over, and with one flex of his muscles, the bolt spins. Pulling off the tire, he grabs the spare and puts it on then sets all the bolts. “This time, we do the opposite. Tighten them as much as we can then drop the jack and tighten them up the rest of the way,” he explai
ns, and I spend the next five minutes watching him tighten all the bolts then drop the jack, allowing the car to lower to the ground before tightening the bolts the rest of the way.

  Stepping back when he stands, I notice a thin coating of sweat covering him. The sun has hit its peak, and it’s about twenty degrees hotter out than it was this morning when I left my apartment. Lifting the bottom of his shirt, he wipes his face, giving me a glimpse of his abs. That’s when I notice the dirt and grime from his hands has transferred to his shirt, a shirt I know by the tiny U on the pocket would probably cost eighty dollars, if not more. “Oh, no.”

  His eyes drop to where mine are looking. “What?”

  “Your shirt, it’s ruined,” I point out, and he shrugs.

  “It’s all good. Where are you heading?”

  “Just about fifteen minutes down the road into town. I think there’s a mechanic there that’s not far from my place.”

  “All right. I’ll follow you in.” He picks up the jack in one hand and the tire with the other, like it weighs nothing at all, and carries them back toward my trunk. I stare after him, wondering what I should do.

  “That’s not necessary.” I follow after him. “I’m sure you have things to do,” I say as I open my door and reach in to grab a twenty from my bag sitting on the passenger seat. Slamming the door, I go to where he’s bent over the trunk. As soon as he stands, I hold out the bill toward him. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t stop.”

  His eyes drop to the bill in my hand before meeting mine once more. “I’m not taking your money.”

  “Please, take it,” I push, holding it out farther in his direction.

  “No.”

  “Your shirt is ruined because of me. At least, let me give you this for helping me out.”

  “I don’t need your money.” He moves around me and opens the driver’s door. “Get in. I’ll follow you to town.”

  Holding his stare for what feels like forever, I finally give in when I see I’m not going to win. Putting a little stomp in my step for not getting my way, I watch his eyes crinkle in the corners and his lips twitch. Sliding behind the wheel, I turn the car on and look up at him when I put my hand on the door handle.

  “Don’t drive over twenty.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little bit bossy?”

  “Can’t say they have.”

  “Hm.” I tug the door but he doesn’t move, and when I look up at him, he’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure something out. “Um…” God, I just realized I don’t even know his name. “Sorry, what’s your name?” I ask, and his eyes meet mine.

  “Sage. Sage Mayson.”

  “That’s a cool name. I’m Kimberly, um… but my friends call me Kim.”

  “Kimberly,” he repeats, and the way my name dances off his tongue makes my heart double beat in my chest. “Wait for me to pull out before you pull off.”

  “Aye, aye, captain,” I say, and his lips tip up and he shakes his head before pushing my door closed. Watching him out my side mirror as he walks back to his car, I study the way he moves. It’s like he’s in control of every single muscle in his big body. His shoulders are back, and his stride is long. If I were walking next to him, I would have to double my steps to keep up.

  Seeing him open his door, I move my eyes from my side mirror to my rearview mirror and notice his car for the first time. His isn’t a car at all; it’s a Cadillac SUV, the exact one my dad drives, only Sage’s is black. And not a shiny black. No, it’s a matte finish, so I know it’s custom. Sage doesn’t look much older than me, so the ride could be his parents’, but if it’s not, now I really wonder who the hell he is and how he can afford something like that. I know my dad paid an arm and a leg for his, because I heard my mom bitching nonstop about how much it cost when he came home in it.

  Hearing a horn, I snap out of it and pull onto the road, speeding up until I hit the twenty mark on my speedometer then slow down. The normal twenty minutes it would take me to get back to town takes me over thirty, and when I pull up outside the mechanic shop, I shut the car down and watch Sage pull into the spot right next to mine.

  Getting out, I grab my purse and the shopping bag from the backseat then head toward one of the open bays. Sage is talking to a guy with dark, almost black hair that is a little long and tattoos covering every inch of skin not hidden by his white shirt, which is spotted with black grease and dirt.

  “Gareth, this is Kim,” Sage introduces as soon as I get close.

  “Hi.” I give him a smile, and he lifts his chin a fraction of an inch in greeting.

  “You got keys?” he asks.

  “Yep.” I hand them over, and as soon as I do, his eyes go back to Sage.

  “It’ll be done in about forty minutes.” My teeth snap together, and my hand moves to my hip.

  “It’s actually my car,” I point out.

  Gareth looks at me and repeats, “It’ll be done in about forty minutes.”

  “Wow, aren’t you just Mr. Wonderful?” I grumble under my breath, and Sage chuckles next to me while Gareth smiles, and if I hadn’t experienced Sage Mayson’s smile this morning, Gareth’s would for sure take my breath away.

  “You need to keep this one,” Gareth mumbles before walking off, and I wonder what he means by that, but I obviously don’t stop him to ask.

  “How about coffee?”

  My head swings Sage’s way at his question, and something strange fills my chest. I would normally say no to any kind of anything with a man who looks like him. A man who looks like he has the ability to break your heart with one smile. But there is something telling me that if I pass up his invitation, I will regret it for the rest of my life.

  “Sure.”

  “Good.” He smiles gently then startles me by placing his hand against my lower back, leading me over to his truck. As soon as we’re at the passenger side door, he swings it open. Taking my bags from my hand, he waits until I’m inside before handing them back and shutting the door behind me. Letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, I look around.

  The car smells like him, and the inside is just as clean as the outside; there isn’t even a little dust on the dash. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see him open the back passenger door then watch him take off his shirt and toss it inside before reaching in and grabbing a new one, putting it on before slamming the door closed.

  “Oh my,” I breathe, turning to face forward, hoping he didn’t see me checking him out.

  “So you live around here?” he asks as soon as he opens his door.

  “Yeah, just a few blocks over off Lowery in the Hamilton subdivision,” I say as he slides his tall, lean frame behind the wheel.

  “That’s a nice area.”

  It is nice, and I will never be able to afford a house in that subdivision. The only reason I can afford my one bedroom apartment there is because my landlords, Mr. and Mrs. Dennison, take a huge chunk of my rent off each month so that I can help them out with babysitting when they need a night out or just need a break from their four kids. They’re adorable but total hellions.

  “Do you live with your parents?”

  “No.”

  “Houses in that subdivision are close to a mill.”

  “I know,” I agree as he studies me like he’s trying to figure out how I can afford to live in that area.

  “Where do you work?”

  “Are you a cop?”

  “No.”

  “You should be,” I inform him, and his lips twitch. Letting out a sigh, I roll my eyes when I see he’s not going to give it up. “I rent an apartment above a garage from a doctor and his wife who live in the subdivision. I help them out with babysitting, and they give me a break on rent each month,” I rattle out quickly then pull in a breath and let it out. “Is there anything else you need to know right now?”

  “I want to know everything.” He turns away from me to face the windshield. “But I’m thinking that will all come with time.”

  My breath leaves on a whoosh, and my heart starts to pound against my ribcage as I watch him back out of the parking spot. I don’t know if he meant to make that statement sound like we would be spending time together or not, but it did, and the thought of getting to know this man has my stomach filling with butterflies and my palms sweating.