shot her a look that said she was stepping outside the serious line, and had better behave. Sage was tempted to ask if he’d spank her if she didn’t.
But she was afraid she might like his answer a little too much.
“If this is going to work we have to see it as a mission,” Aiden said, his words clipped and his tone cool. Official, she realized, leaning forward and clasping her hands together in anticipation. She’d never seen Aiden in military mode. This should be fun.
“Are you listening?” he asked, giving her a narrow look, his dark eyes assessing her seriousness.
As tempting as it was to tease him, Sage managed to keep her expression sincere. After all, she wanted this to work more than anything. Well, except for seeing him take command. That, she was really looking forward to.
“Of course I’m listening,” she said, gesturing with a finger wave that he keep it coming. “We’re on a mission. Of course, I’ve never been on a mission before. Unless you count those two months I belonged to the Commune of the Sacred Light up in Seattle and tried to convert the pescatarians to pork. You know, the other white meat.”
“I thought chicken—” Aiden cut himself off with a shake of his head, then gave her a chiding look. “Do you want us to successfully pull off this fake engagement or not? Either you call the shots, or I do.”
The tight knot that’d tangled her heart and guts so miserably the last week loosened for the first time. Not just because Aiden was home and taking charge. But because finally, here was someone who could actually distract her enough to keep from worrying every single second.
Diving into the distraction, she debated suggesting they share the shots, preferably out of a tequila bottle. But she figured that’d go over about as well as the pork idea had. Although Aiden probably wouldn’t threaten to roast her over a barbecue like the gang at the commune had. Who knew living on just seafood could make hemp-wearers so bloodthirsty.
“Call away,” she instructed, waving one hand regally as she leaned back on the couch and got comfy. Better him than her. She wasn’t so good at the making-rules thing. Mostly because she never cared about following them. But rules and Aiden? Peanut butter and jelly.
Something he was clearly aware of, since rather than looking surprised, he instead gave a nod to indicate he’d expected nothing less. Mulling with his chin low, he got up from the chair. He paced two steps to the right, clasped his hands behind his back like a general plotting a coup, paced two steps to the left, then faced her again.
“Okay, then, here we go. The obvious goal of the mission is to offer peace of mind to the Professor.” He waited for Sage to agree, which she quickly did, then gave an answering nod. “Which, to him, is the concept of both of us being settled and happy. Marriage, as he’s hinted at from time to time over the last decade, is his ultimate goal.”
Say what? Her father had dropped plenty of hints to her over the years. Hints she’d laughed at. But he’d tossed a few at Aiden, too? To the same reaction? She frowned. It was one thing for her to think they were totally unsuitable and the idea of them as a couple was funny. But she was oddly insulted that Aiden felt the same.
Then it hit her that this mission, as Aiden was calling it, was something her father really, really wanted. It was so important to him, and it might be the last thing he ever asked of her.
Suddenly all of the other things he’d ever asked bombarded her. That she come home for Christmas. That she get a degree. The three weeks he’d spent nagging her to see a dentist to make sure her tongue piercing wasn’t going to ruin her teeth. The concern he’d shown over the guy she was dating. Any guy, she realized. He’d been concerned about them all. To the point that, somewhere after her twentieth birthday, she’d stopped letting him meet them. All because it’d been easier than worrying about making her father happy.
What did that say about her? And how much longer did she have to worry about his happiness? Her chest too tight to pull in a deep breath, Sage bit her lip and tried to keep from crying.
“Sage?”
She took a shallow breath, trying to get air to her lungs. The pain was too much, though. She debated putting her head between her knees. But while she wasn’t averse to a head between her knees, she didn’t want it to be her own. Nor did she want to explain why it was there to Aiden.
Because that’d be admitting fear. Admitting that she didn’t believe that smiles and positive energy and this crazy scheme were going to be enough to pull her father through.
“Sage?” Aiden asked again, stepping over to lean down and peer at her face.
“I’m okay,” she croaked.
“What’s wrong?”
Unable—unwilling—to explain, she shrugged and waved at Aiden to keep barking out rules.
He narrowed his eyes, stepping closer as if he were going to offer comfort. Then, since he probably didn’t figure mission leaders were supposed to hand out hugs, he frowned instead and gave her a nod.
“If we’re going to succeed, we both have to be completely committed to whatever means necessary to fulfill said mission.”
Blinking back the tears that were burning her eyelids, Sage sniffed and forced herself to focus on Aiden instead of her morbid thoughts.
A good choice, since he made for a great view. He was so cute, all serious and intense. Unable to resist, Sage widened her eyes and asked, “Will that include night-vision goggles, matching camo outfits and secret passwords?”
“Maybe,” he said without even a hint of a smile. “But more to the point is that we both agree that we’ll give this one hundred percent. If you want the Professor’s mind at ease, it’s going to take focus and effort.”
Sage frowned. Neither of which he seemed to think she had. Needing a few seconds to process that, she leaned back, tucking her feet under her. The nubby fabric of the sofa scraped gently over her bare toes, contrasting with the silk of her skirt.
“This isn’t a whim, Aiden. This isn’t an experiment or a fun lark. This is my father.” She paused, as much to swallow the tight ball of fear in her throat as for effect. “I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to bring him comfort and to keep him from worrying. So if Mission Marriage is the answer to his peace of mind, consider me in.”
He gave her a look so intense and searching, she felt like he’d just scanned her every thought, delved into her secrets and checked her pockets for loose change.
If he could package that, TSA would pay a fortune.
Sage shifted, angling her feet under her butt to keep herself from getting up to run from that look. Or, more to the point, from discovering what he’d found. Or worse, what he hadn’t.
As usual, he didn’t say.
Instead, he shook his head, then instructed, “Let’s call it Mission Engagement. Neither of us is crazy enough to think we’re marriage material.”
Sage blinked a couple of times, trying to process that kick in the gut. She wasn’t marriage material? As in, he didn’t think she was marriageable? Or was she simply not what he wanted in marriage?
Not
