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“See ya, Ranch Girl.”
Chapter twenty-six
"It is if you're a seventeen-year-old boy."
The clouds started rolling in around noon, and by four the rain had started. J.T. wanted to go check on Joey and Finn. But first he had to go see Sage. Sawyer’s fight started at five and she was going to need him to sit with her until she got a text or call from Sawyer when the fight was over.
He drove to her house and parked close to the porch, figuring the rain would be falling harder by the time he left. When he stepped onto the porch, Sage opened the door.
“You’re here.”
“Of course.”
She took his arm and pulled him inside, then hugged him. “He said it should be over quick.”
“Let’s hope.” He took off his wet jacket and hung it by the door, then followed Sage to the kitchen. “Do you have a beer?”
“Have a seat. I’ll get you one.”
He sat and looked at the box in the middle of the table, then opened the lid. “Do you have a craving for muffins?”
She set a bottle of beer in front of him. “No. It’s emergency rations for when the power goes out.”
He opened the bottle and took a sip. “Can you spare one? I haven’t had dinner yet, and I’ve been helping Dad sandbag the pond all afternoon.”
“Just one. And not blueberry. That’s my favorite.”
J.T. handed her a blueberry muffin, then took a banana nut for himself. “How’s Xander?”
“He’s fine.”
J.T. looked at her for a moment. “Do I need to worry about him?”
“No. We’re friends. Not even that, really. He’s just the guy who owns the bakery.”
“And is raising five kids.”
“Exactly why you don’t need to worry about me ever having any interest in him.”
J.T. sighed. “Okay.” He took a bite of his muffin and checked the time on his phone. “Ten minutes.”
“I know. I really hate this.”
“I know you do.”
“Each time I hate it a little more.”
“But Sawyer loves it. And he’s thinking seriously about going pro.”
“Don’t remind me. Those guys will be really good. And it won’t be just three rounds anymore.”
“Not to mention he needs to move to a much bigger city.”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
At five o’clock, Sage got to her feet and started pacing around the kitchen. Five minutes later, she stopped and leaned on the back of the chair. “He’s not doing well.”
“How do you know?”
