31. Sage

31

Sage

T he combination of tart orange juice played on my tongue with the bubbly pops of champagne. It’d been a long time since I had a mimosa, and I was clearly missing out.

“I’m telling you, that horse is out of his mind,” Brandy said after a sip of her own mimosa.

“You don’t have to keep trying,” Lettie replied as the waitress set the basket of fried pickles down in the middle of the table.

“Do some horses just not want to be ridden?” Oakley asked. She and I were on the same wavelength with the limited horse knowledge.

“Can we get another round of mimosas?” Brandy asked the waitress, who nodded in response, then replied to Oakley. “ Some horses are straight assholes, and Lettie seems to pick the best of them.”

They’d invited me to a boozy brunch, and I’d almost said no, but Charlotte had popped up out of nowhere when Lettie was asking me at the ranch, offering to watch Avery so I could have a few hours with the girls.

“I like to pride myself with my choices,” Lettie retorted.

Brandy downed the last of her mimosa. “I wouldn’t get too cocky like that.”

“I can try to do it myself,” Lettie offered.

Brandy shook her head. “I’ll figure it out.”

Lettie snagged a fried pickle. “He had a bad past.”

“Clearly. It took me weeks to finally get a halter on him after I took the last one off.” Brandy set her glass down at the edge of the table for an easier reach when the waitress came back.

“That was your mistake,” Lettie said.

Brandy arched a brow. “Are you telling the horse trainer how to train horses?”

Lettie shrugged. “You should let me help you.”

A scoff sounded as Brandy picked up her own fried pickle. “And have your brother and Bailey on my ass? No, thanks. I’ve got it. He just needs more time to warm up, is all.”

Lettie nodded as she chewed, all of us digging into the basket. The waitress came back with the mimosas and I finished my other one off to hand her the empty glass. We were on drink number three, but Oakley was going slower than the rest of us because she was our designated driver. She was only allowing herself to have one on top of some food with it.

“So, Sage,” Lettie started.

I finished my bite. “Hmm?”

“I know it’s pretty informal, but—” She fished something out of her pocket, then set a little pink bow on the table in front of me. “—would you be my bridesmaid?”

A breath of relief passed my lips. “I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant and having a girl.”

Brandy burst out laughing as Oakley giggled. “Lettie can barely take care of herself, let alone a baby,” Brandy managed to get out.

The champagne was working its way through us, it seemed.

Lettie lifted her chin. “I take care of myself just fine.”

“Need I remind you of when you came back—” Brandy started but was cut off with a yelp passing her lips as I presumed Lettie kicked her under the table.

Lettie had a history of anemia and was quite forgetful, but I was curious what Brandy meant.

“Anyway.” Lettie turned her attention back to me. “What do you say?”

I smiled. “I’d love to.”

It felt nice to be a part of their group and have this time to hang out with them. I didn’t realize how much I missed having girl friends until now.

“Perfect. The wedding is this fall. ”

Brandy’s eyes almost burst out of her head. “This fall? And you’re telling us the date now?”

“Well, I don’t have a set date yet,” Lettie admitted.

“Then how do you know you’ll be doing it this fall? Don’t you have to book places?” Oakley asked.

Lettie took a large gulp of her drink. “Bailey wanted the fall, and I didn’t want to wait another year. We’re doing it at the ranch.”

My smile widened, the champagne twirling around in my head. “That’ll be perfect.”

“I hope so. I think we can get everything sorted by then, but I’ll need your guys’ help.”

We all nodded.

“Of course. Anything,” I said.

Brandy raised her glass. “To Lettie Cooper.”

We all raised our own, clinking them together.

“To Lettie Cooper,” we said in unison.

And then we sipped.

***

“How many individual pieces of hay do you think are in a hay bale?” Brandy asked, her words slightly slurred.

Oakley was driving us back to the ranch, where we planned to continue our boozy brunch in the comfort of home. We felt bad that Oakley couldn’t indulge as much as she wanted to, but Lennon would pick her up later once he was off work, so she had nothing to worry about once we got to the ranch.

“A fuck ton,” Lettie tossed back with a giggle.

“Like how many fuck tons?” Brandy questioned.

I’d stopped after four mimosas, which was probably too many, but Lettie and Brandy both had five. Brandy, I came to learn, was a lightweight, but that clearly did not stop her from indulging.

“Hmm, maybe a thousand?” Lettie replied.

“We could count one,” I said, the effects of the champagne making it hard to resist joining in on their debate.

“As much fun as that sounds, I do not feel like counting hay while I’m planning to get buzzed,” Oakley said. “The other day, I had to count an entire bag of dog treats because one of the customers didn’t believe that there were seventy-two in each bag.”

“You should’ve made them count it,” Brandy said.

Oakley glanced in the rearview mirror at Brandy in the backseat. “I wish I would have.”

She turned onto the dirt driveway that led to the Bronsons’ ranch as Brandy and Lettie went on about different shades of pink for the dresses, somehow getting on the topic of wanting to tie-dye them. Thankfully, we weren’t making any final decisions while drunk, because tie-dye did not seem like Lettie’s style of choice.

Oakley pulled to a stop and shut off the car. “Uh oh.”

“What ‘uh oh’?” Brandy asked, looking out the window .

Lettie leaned over Brandy to get a better look outside. “That ‘uh oh,’” Lettie answered, pointing in the direction of the barn.

I looked out Oakley’s driver window and swore I felt my heart sink. But just as quick as it sank, it started beating fast. Too fast.

I didn’t hesitate, opening the passenger door to swing out of the car. Coming around the hood, I beelined it for Callan where he was standing with his back to the barn. Where a woman was standing too close to him, her chest practically touching his.

Any buzz I had fueled my confidence as I approached the two of them. Callan wasn’t flirting with her, and he definitely wasn’t entertaining whatever it was that she was doing. He looked uncomfortable, shrinking in on himself.

If he didn’t have the guts to tell her off, then I would.

“Excuse me,” I said, pasting on a sweet tone right along with my clearly fake smile. “Hi.” I smoothly squeezed in between them, forcing the woman to take a step back.

Her mouth popped open as irritation coated her features. “We were in the middle of a conversation,” she squeaked out, disbelief lacing her tone.

Conversation, my ass.

“You’re standing a little too close to my boyfriend. Actually.” I paused, lifting a finger. “ Way too close. And you need to leave.”

“ Boyfriend ?” she exclaimed, her voice now rising in pitch.

“Mhmm, so maybe stop harassing him, take the message, and leave him the fuck alone.”

Callan’s chest was to my back in an instant, both hands on my shoulders.

The woman blinked in shock. “He’s my son's instructor.”

“Do you corner all your son’s teachers like this?” I asked, cocking a brow as I set my hands on my hips.

Callan’s fingers dug into my shoulders, gently holding me back like I’d swing at her.

I would.

“This is ridiculous,” the woman said, taking another step back. “I’m never bringing my son back here.”

I smiled. “Oh, your son is welcome. But you’re not.”

“What?” she squeaked, as if it was crazy that her son was innocent in this. Like she did no wrong.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” I asked, my tone overly sweet. “Get the fuck off this ranch, and if your son wants to keep coming for lessons, have his father bring him.” I gestured to the ring on her finger. “I’m sure he’d love to know the reason why his son might have to quit riding lessons.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her cheeks red with rage. She turned on her heel, almost losing her balance in the dirt, then yelled for her son. “Christopher!”

“Coming, Mom!” Christopher shouted back, then emerged from the barn shortly after.

They got in their car and peeled out of the drive, and then my eyes landed on the other car, where Oakley, Lettie, and Brandy all had their faces pressed to the glass. They all tossed me a thumbs up and a huge smile .

Callan turned me around, but before I could apologize, he crashed into me with a kiss. His touch was hungry, his lips devouring. Every buzz from the champagne turned into the buzz of him lighting my skin like a match.

“Say it again,” he mumbled into my lips as he kept kissing me just as deep.

“Say what?” I questioned, wishing he could take me right here.

“That I’m your boyfriend.”

I pulled back, my lips parted.

I guess I had said that.

“Is that— Is that okay?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if I stepped over the line by saying that, but all I knew in the moment I said it was that I wanted her to feel shitty for making Callan feel uncomfortable. Then, when I saw the ring on her finger, I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. She deserved the worst for cornering him as if she didn’t have a man of her own at home.

“Baby, being your boyfriend is all I want. It’s more than okay.”

My head swam with the effects of him and the booze, and I couldn’t help my smile as I said, “You’re my boyfriend.”

He smiled right back. “Damn right I am.”

His lips met mine again, and I knew behind me that the girls were watching, but I didn’t care. I wanted the whole world to know that Callan was mine and I was his.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I pulled away and asked, “Why didn’t you tell her to leave you alone? ”

He shrugged, but I could tell he knew. “I’m not very good at confronting people.”

“What?” He was joking, right? “You punched my ex just last week. I’m pretty sure you’re too good at confrontation.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I can’t just punch everyone I don’t like, Sage.”

This time, I shrugged. “You could.”

He frowned, though he was clearly fighting a smile.

“You’re damn good at standing up for other people, but you need to put that same amount of effort and care into yourself, too,” I told him.

“I know. So do you.”

I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t about me. “So do it.”

His hands found my waist. “Fine.”

“Fine,” I bit back.

Then we both grinned.

“But what if I want you to stand up for me again?”

I chuckled.

“It was pretty hot. I’ll admit it,” he said.

“Well, don’t get used to it. Next time, maybe I’ll be the one throwing punches.”

He let out a fake cat growl and I laughed as he pulled me closer to him, sealing our lips together with another kiss.

I got the feeling that life with Callan Bronson was going to be pretty damn sweet.

It was a good thing I had a sweet tooth.