He wouldn't have to explain...
Maybe when Sage was back to full strength, he'd backpack for a couple of months. He could travel, only coming home a week or two before the baby was due to be born.
But then, he thought as he lowered Sage into the back seat of the waiting taxi, he'd miss seeing Sage's tummy grow with life, would miss the ultrasound scans, the doctor's visits. Could he do that? Could he leave?
He so badly wanted to say yes, to be convinced that she would be fine, but uncertainty twisted his stomach, his gut instinct insisting that he wasn't going anywhere, that he was going to see this process through.
So no Delhi or Djibouti then. That was okay, Tyce thought as he took the seat next to Sage. He could deal.
Much later that afternoon Sage's eyes fluttered open and she pulled in the familiar scent of her apartment... She was home, in a bed. Rolling over, she yelped. Every inch of her body was sore, from the back of her head to her shoulders, her damned tailbone, her legs. Her wrist throbbed. Glancing down at her cast, she sucked in an astonished gasp. Her plaster cast was no longer white but filled with miniature portraits, all wickedly accurate. Linc, Jaeger, Beck, Jo, Connor-God, Connor's picture looked so like him, his patrician face wearing a huge smile. Tyce had sketched her nephews, her niece. Her brother's partners. She could see that they'd been drawn quickly but, quick or not, they were fantastic. It was another reminder that Tyce was phenomenally talented...
"I was bored."
Sage's eyes shot up to see Tyce leaning against the half wall that separated the spare bedroom from the rest of the apartment. Uncomfortable with Tyce carrying her up the narrow staircase to her bedroom, she'd told him she'd be fine in the spare.
She immediately noticed the smudges of charcoal on his white T-shirt and faded jeans. Sage traced the outline of Connor's face with her finger, happy to see that the lines didn't blur. "They are fantastic. How did you seal them to stop them from smudging?"
"There was a tin of clear lacquer under your workbench." Tyce shrugged. "Thanks to your obsession with framing photographs, I managed to get them all."
"They are amazing. How long did they take you to do?"
Tyce shrugged. "Not long. I would've been quicker but you kept distracting me."
She distracted him? How on earth? "I was asleep when you did this!" she protested.
"You've always been beautiful but I'd never watched you sleep before. You're simply stunning," Tyce said, sounding utterly sincere.
Sexual awareness arced between them and Sage pushed her fingers into her hair, thinking that it felt odd to wake up with someone in her home. She felt a little self-conscious, a tiny bit awkward but, mostly, having Tyce in her apartment made her feel protected, cared for. Safe.
Safe? Not possible, Sage thought. She hadn't felt safe for years, not truly safe, not since before her parents were alive. She was misreading what she was feeling; she had to be because safe wasn't something she expected to feel, would allow herself to feel, ever again.
Either way, it was time she stopped.
Sage rolled onto her back and winced, using her good arm to push up. In a flash Tyce was at her side, strong arms helping her up the bed so that she could lean against her headboard. He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water and two pills. "Acetaminophen-they'll take the edge off."
"Thanks." Sage took the pills, threw them into her mouth and chased them down with a long pull of water. Right, it was time to take back control. She needed her home back, some distance between her and whatever she was feeling for Tyce.
"I appreciate you bringing me home from the hospital, for watching out for me, but it's time for you to go."
Tyce just lifted one dark eyebrow in response. "No."
Sage glared at him. This was her apartment; he was here only because she allowed it. "Tyce, I don't like having people in my space, in my face."
"I don't either but-" Tyce shrugged "-tough." He pointed at her stomach. "In less than six months we're both going to have a new person in our lives-a very demanding creature if I understand the process correctly. So maybe we should try to, and get used to, the notion of sharing space so that we don't die from shock."
Sage's mouth dropped open. What was happening? She was trying to push him away but he wasn't budging. This wasn't how this was supposed to go! When she pushed people away, most people were polite enough to give her the distance she needed.
Not Tyce.
Then again, she was quite convinced that God broke the mold after Tyce was born. One of him, she was pretty sure, was all the world, and she, could handle.
What could she say to make him leave?
"I'm going to be around for a few days so...you might as well get used to it."
Crap.
Tyce continued speaking, utterly at ease. "So, while you were sleeping, I answered what felt like a million calls from your family." Tyce took her empty glass and placed it on the bedside table. He sat down on the side of the bed, lifting his knee up onto her comforter, and resting his hand on the far side of her leg. His other hand gripped her thigh. "I don't normally talk to that many people in a month, let alone in an afternoon."
She was trying to keep up with the conversation, she really was, but his hand on her leg turned her brain to mush.
Sage could feel the size and shape, the heat of it through the covers and her yoga pants. If his hand moved a little up, and a little in, he'd find her happy spot-
Aargh! Really?
Sage mentally gave herself a head punch and pulled her focus back to their conversation. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. You were never chatty."
"Oh, I can mingle and make small talk when I need to, although it's very dependent on whether I want to. I don't often want, or need, to."
"And, let's face it, people like your surly and brooding attitude. It's, apparently, sexy," Sage muttered.
"Only apparently?" Tyce murmured, leaning forward, his eyes on her mouth. Sage's breath caught and held as he moved closer and her heart rate inched upward. He hovered just above her, prolonging the anticipation, and then his mouth met hers in a kiss as seductive as it was sweet. There was passion in his kiss, but it was banked, restrained. This kiss was designed to give comfort, to rediscover, to seduce.
It wasn't a kiss she'd received from Tyce before and Sage didn't know how to respond. She wanted to urge him to deepen it, to take more, to stoke the fire but she also didn't want the sweetness of this kiss to end. It was pure seduction, totally charming. And over far too soon. Tyce lifted his mouth off hers and leaned back, his black eyes glinting in the low light of the room. Sage was surprised to see the fine tremor in the hand he put back on her thigh.
"Seeing you fall... You scared the crap out of me, Sage."
Her words had deserted her so Sage just nodded, unable to drop her eyes from the emotional thunderstorm in his eyes. It was the first time she'd seen Tyce without his reticent cloak, his barriers. There was so much emotion in those dark depths that it made her breath hitch, her heart rate accelerate.
Her hand lifted to touch his face. She longed to run her hands down his big biceps, to pull his shirt up and feel the definition in his chest. She wanted to crawl inside him, explore that steel-trap mind, his creative genius, peek into his soul. Tyce made her forget to keep her distance; he tempted her in ways that petrified her.
It was time to step back... Way back.
"So, the phone calls," she said, her voice curt.
At her prosaic words, his shields came up. "Everyone said they would come over tonight to check up on you, so instead of them arriving in dribs and drabs, I told Linc to tell them to come around after work and to stay for dinner."
Sage nodded, resigned. Sure, they were worried about her but she knew that her brothers wanted another chance to check up on Tyce, to see if he was treating her right and to, possibly, drop another threat or two in his ear.
One day they'd wake up and realize that Tyce marched to the beat of his own drum and didn't really care what they thought.
Sage ran a hand over her face, pain pounding through her head and her tailbone and her arm in symphony. "They'll want food and I don't have much in the fridge. I'll have to order in."
Tyce squeezed her thigh to get her attention. "I made a chicken casserole and there's more than enough for everybody."
Sage frowned at him. "You cook?"
"I do."
"Since when?"
"Since I was a kid and the only way to get a good meal into my stomach, and more important, into Lachlyn's, was to learn," Tyce shot back and immediately looked annoyed that he'd allowed something so personal to slip.
Sage knew that he didn't want to pursue this conversation but since he'd opened the door, she was going to walk through it. She was just...doing a background check on him, she told herself. Finding out information about her baby's father.