But before she went to Tyce, she had to mend a blown-up fence. Sage pulled out her phone. She held her breath, knowing that the chance of her call being answered was slim to none.
“Hello?”
“Lach?” Sage heard her voice break as she used Tyce’s pet name for his sister. “I’ve really messed up. Firstly, I’m sorry that I ignored your call—I’m not very good at letting people in and I got scared. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Okay,” Lachlyn replied, her tone cautious.
“You are so like Connor, Lachlyn. It’s taking some time to get used to.”
“I can’t help that,” Lachlyn said, her voice cool.
“I know,” Sage replied. “Just give me some time, please? I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”
“So am I, Sage.”
God, she’d never considered the situation from Lachlyn’s point of view, she’d never thought about how hard it had to be to step into a family and wonder if they’d like her, even love her. Sage had been so selfish, so caught up in her own drama.
These Latimores certainly had a way of making her see herself clearly.
“I can forgive you for hurting me, Sage, but I will never forgive you if you hurt Tyce. If you ask me to pick a side between you and your brothers, or Tyce, I will, always, always pick Tyce. Do not doubt that.”
Sage appreciated the sentiment and she respected Lachlyn’s loyalty to her brother.
“I’m going to head to his studio to apologize.”
“That’s not a good idea and he won’t appreciate it. Give him some time and space to deal with his anger,” Lachlyn suggested.
“Okay.” Sage rubbed the back of her neck. “I am sorry for earlier, Lachlyn. And I need you to know that it’s not my intention to hurt Tyce.”
“Really?” Lachlyn sounded skeptical. “For someone who is acting unintentionally, you’re doing a damn fine job of doing just that.”
* * *
The next evening, Sage stood in the doorway of the sitting room of The Den holding Ellie. She looked across the space to the Ballantyne women. Piper and Cady sat on the Persian carpet on either side of Amy, and Tate sat on the big leather couch close to them. Each of them held a book containing fabric swatches but only Amy was flipping through hers and cursing like a sailor. There were four books of open fabric samples on the carpet in front of her and another five on the coffee table. From her position in the doorway, Sage could only see minuscule differences in the shades of cream.
Sage rubbed her cheek against Ellie’s curls and cuddled the little girl closer. Linc had bundled her into her arms as soon as she stepped into The Den, telling her that Shaw had accidentally emptied an entire bottle of bath bubbles into his bath.
Accidentally-on-purpose, Sage was sure.
“What are you doing?” Sage asked the women.
Four heads swiveled around and Tate crossed the room to her, giving her, and Ellie, a warm hug. Ellie deserted Sage by tumbling into her mom’s arms.
Sage greeted everyone and gestured to the books. “What are you trying to decide? Can I help?”
“The exact shade of cream for the reception tablecloths.”
Behind Amy, Cady rolled her eyes, and Sage hid her smile. There had been murmurs of Amy turning into Bridezilla but only when they were very, very sure that Amy wasn’t around. Amy, as Linc and Beck’s PA, was the power behind the Ballantyne throne.
“Jules told me that I am driving her mad with the wedding arrangements and she’s threatening to kidnap me and take me to Vegas.” Amy pushed out her bottom lip. “I just want it to be perfect.”
Sage bent down and gave her a hug. “You’re overthinking it, honey. Choose one—they are all pretty much the same.”
Amy glared at the books. “I will. After I look through the books on the floor once more. How are you?”
Sage shrugged, thinking that there was no point in lying. “Horrible.” Sage plopped down into the corner of the couch and rubbed the back of her neck. “I really messed up. Again.”
Four sets of sympathetic eyes rested on her face and, for the first time ever, the words tumbled out of her as she explained what a complete idiot she’d been and how she’d hurt Lachlyn. And Tyce.