Page 2 of Falling for Gage


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“If he has one.”

“Right, if he has one.” Someone bumped into her, and she took a small step toward me and I caught her clean scent: lavender, lilies, and grass. It was pleasant and so very her.

I’d gone out on one date with Haven a couple of years back before I’d found out she had it bad for Travis Hale and vice versa. I’d happily—and easily, truth be told—stepped aside and I was glad they’d ended up together. Nothing permanent would have come from dating Haven, not to mention, Haven and Travis were clearly madly in love, had formed a little family, and seemed to have found everything they didn’t even know they wanted out of life.

Good for them.

Meanwhile, even though I’d determined years ago that it was time to settle down, I still hadn’t met the right woman.

Maybe she didn’t exist.

Except I didn’t want to consider that. Not only for myself, but because my parents expected me to pass on the Buchanan name. If I didn’t, our family legacy would be no more. That responsibility fell to me and me alone.

“Hey,” Haven said, drawing me back to the present, “do you want a kitten in about eight weeks?”

“My condo doesn’t allow pets.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Well, spread the word for us. Otherwise, we’ll have several more barn cats, I guess.”

“Also, I’m moving to London in a couple months.”

Her eyes widened. “London! For work?”

I nodded. “We’re opening a hotel in Westminster.”

She frowned. “Oh. I see. Well, I know you already travel a fair bit, but Calliope won’t be the same without you. However…” She reached out and patted my shoulder. “I get needing a change of scenery.” She tilted her head, studying me, her expression slightly troubled as though she knew something about me I didn’t. But then she smiled. “I wish you all the luck in finding just what you’re looking for.” She paused, chewing at the side of her lip for a brief moment. “Sometimes, it’s closer than you think.”

“Gabe,” the barista called, a young blond kid who was obviously a seasonal employee.

“Gage,” the owner, Peggy, corrected over her shoulder with a wink and a smile in my direction. That was the thing that made my hometown of Calliope different than Pelion, which was right across Pelion Lake. Whereas they were almost exclusively small-town, we were a mix between small-town and tourist mecca—at least during spring break and throughout the summer season. And there were undeniably more upscale areas of Calliope, including the gated community where my parents lived, in which I’d grown up. I found Pelion charming and appreciated that they’d made the choice to preserve the quaint nature of their town, but I’d always preferred the variety of traditional and modern offered in Calliope and the fact that there was a little bit of everything.

I picked up the drink as the kid muttered, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I turned back to Haven. “It was great to see you. Tell Trav I said hi and good luck with the hunt. If he’s looking to form a posse, I might be able to make myself available on Monday after I get back from the weekend golf trip I’m going on with some college buddies.”

Haven laughed. “That’s very kind of you, Gage. Have a fun weekend.”

I lifted my cup in a toast and moved past her toward the door, exiting the crowded coffee shop and heading to my car.

I turned the ignition, cranked up the AC and sat there drinking my coffee for a minute, staring out the windshield again and bouncing my knee. I caught myself and stilled my leg, giving my head a small shake as I attempted to move my mind toward the work I had on my agenda that day. God, why did I feel so damn restless? I’d thought taking the next step on my career path and moving to London would help dispel the feeling of general agitation I’d been experiencing for the last year or so, but it’d really only increased the sensation. I had to figure that was due to a mild case of nerves at such a momentous impending change, but it was still distracting as hell and the only thing that helped was making a conscious effort to ignore it. Surely it’d get better once I was settled in my new home.

In my rearview mirror I saw Haven exit the coffee shop with her drink in hand and turn in the other direction toward the old-fashioned, turquoise blue pickup she drove with the Haven’s Gate logo emblazoned on the side. You couldn’t miss that thing, that was for sure. I pressed slightly on the gas just to hear the purr of my Audi, but rather than bringing me the satisfaction it always had, emptiness loomed inside.

I’d built my life around luxury cars, tailored suits, exclusive memberships, and the like. Those things spoke of who I was and the life I wanted. I was about to leave this small, lakeside town behind for the sophistication of London. In recent years, I’d only grown more established in my career, and I was about to make a move that would increase my success, and my wealth. I stood on the precipice of everything I’d ever worked for and all my father had dreamed for me and all I felt was…stuck. It made no sense.

Haven’s truck bumped past me and she grinned and waved out the window. I tipped my chin, watching as the bed, filled with cheery flats of flowers, moved away. I brought my fingers to my lower lip, realizing that instead of smiling back at Haven, my mouth had tipped into a frown.

I sighed and, once again, emptied my mind as best as possible, pulling away from the curb and heading to the office where I had back-to-back meetings.

I was glad I had a packed schedule today and tomorrow, but a short break from the rigmarole would help me get my head back in the game. The upcoming guys’ weekend would be good. No—the guys’ weekend would be great.

CHAPTER TWO

Rory

The bevy of starstruck women let out a collective squeal as my uncle tossed the ice from the glass in his right hand and caught it in the empty one he was holding in his left, that slow, one-sided smile causing his dimple to appear. The squeals melted into delighted sighs. I pressed my lips together, working to keep my expression neutral. I had plenty of practice resisting the eye roll that still naturally threatened such blatant reverence. Such a simple bartender move and still they swoon like lovesick puppies.

I wiped down the table that had just been vacated and picked up the tray of empty glasses as another chorus of “oohs” came from the bar. I gave my head a small shake. Easy tricks aside though, I could see why my uncle received so much female attention and adoration. He did bear a striking resemblance to Elvis Presley in his heyday.

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