Too Hard to Forget (Romancing the Clarksons, #3)

by Tessa Bailey

Peggy watched Belmont and Sage exchange a “good morning, oh, center of my gravity” look, and that was all she could take.

But she skidded to a stop on the carpet when she found Belmont and Sage moments from a kiss. Oh yeah, if she’d lingered near the elevators a minute longer, she would have walked in on a much different scene, because Belmont looked prepared to devour their darling Sage. And while they weren’t touching, Sage was clearly prepared to allow said devouring, if her shuddering breaths were any indication. Belmont didn’t even glance toward the door when Peggy barged in, merely continuing in his attempts to draw Sage’s essence from her body with the force of his will. Or that’s how it looked anyway. Whoa. Just whoa. Sage snapped out of her trance, bounding backward so fast, she disrupted everything sitting on their shared nightstand, mumbling apologies to no one in particular. “She doesn’t feel well,” Belmont shouted, still not looking at Peggy. Peggy set down her purse on the closest bed and approached the situation with the caution of a hostage negotiator. “Okay, big guy.” She ran a quick look over her friend and deduced that, no, she didn’t look as healthful as usual. Her usual glow was subdued, her skin slightly ashen. It occurred to her that Belmont had been planning to heal Sage with a kiss, which was a little too heartbreaking to explore just yet. Maybe ever.

“When I don’t feel like myself,” he murmured for Sage’s ears alone, but Peggy heard anyway, “it helps when I hold you. It could work for you, too, maybe.”

Peggy eased closer to the pair, intending to intercept the laser-like intensity Belmont was laying on her best friend, but Sage moved faster, sliding her arms around Belmont’s waist, laying her head on his chest and holding. Tight. Belmont rocked back on his heels, eyelids falling like metal garages to conceal his blue eyes, so different from the rest of the Clarkson siblings. He made a sound that could only be described as utter, broken bliss, before wrapping his brawny arms around Sage. “Please feel better,” Belmont said quietly. “Please stop hurting.” “I will. This is already helping,” Sage whispered back, her breath hitching when Belmont lifted her off the ground, burying his face in her neck, his back expanding with deep inhales.

Pain the invitation to her wedding had wrought three years earlier when it had been forwarded by the post office two weeks after the nuptials date…and he’d broken his hand trying to punch through a brick wall.

Alice’s head tipped back, her face turning red as she saw Belmont for the first time. “Who i-is that?” “That’s your bodyguard.” Peggy nudged her brother with an elbow. “Bel?” He nodded at Alice and stepped aside, indicating she should lead the way. “After you.” “Whoa,” Alice breathed. “I wouldn’t mind him being one of the bigger and better things ahead.” A beat passed. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Laughing, Peggy gave Alice a side hug and sent them on their way.

“You’re making my chest hurt.” She dropped the fork onto the plate with a clatter. “What?” Elliott’s gaze cut away, clearly having surprised himself. “The way you’re sitting there…the sun making your skin glow.” He sat up straighter in an abrupt movement that dipped that mattress. “Looking at you makes me want to forget everything else and never stop. Every time I’m with you, I come closer to giving in. Setting aside my responsibilities so I can spend more time looking and listening to each and every damn word out of your mouth. Every time.”

Just as Peggy came to her feet, ready to go after Sage, Belmont stepped out from the Tate house’s shadows, pulling Sage into an embrace. It stopped Peggy from moving. Stopped time from moving. Sage’s journey would always lead back to Belmont, wouldn’t it? Where would hers lead?