Novels by Sage

He saw him.Didn’t react. Not right away.Just sipped his coffee on the front porch like he did every Sunday morning, legs stretched out, Eden’s oldest muttering something about Lego pieces inside, and the girls squabbling over which animal mug to use.But his eyes?They never left the silver pickup parked three houses down.Dusty.He sat behind the wheel like a man watching a movie he used to star in—smug, bitter, and just far enough away to pretend it wasn’t intentional. Like maybe he thought he was invisible. Like maybe he didn’t realize that Callum knew exactly what it looked like when someone was pretending not to watch.Callum didn’t move. Just studied him from over the rim of his mug, letting the burn of the coffee keep his temper down.This wasn’t the house Eden shared with Dusty. That place was gone—left behind with everything else she’d peeled off like old skin. This one was hers. Quiet. Small. Full of mismatched furniture, burned pancakes, and kids who knew how to make chao

He parked three houses down this time. Not because he thought Eden would notice—she never looked past her own porch anymore—but because Callum’s truck was still in the driveway, and Dusty didn’t like what that did to his pulse.His hand rested on the steering wheel, thumb tapping in a rhythm he couldn’t quiet. The dome light of his truck was off. Engine cold. Windows cracked just enough to keep the windshield from fogging.He’d told himself he came to check on the kids. Told himself he was just making sure they weren’t being dragged into some mess. Eden was erratic these days. Unstable. Emotional.She didn’t know what was best for them.But even as the lie formed in his head, Dusty could hear Eden’s laugh echoing across the years. Not the brittle one she used now—the real one. The one from back before things got complicated, before everything became a negotiation. When she used to sit cross-legged in his T-shirt on the front porch and sing to the babies in their sleep.He scrolled bac

The light slipped in through the cracked curtain, soft and golden, like it had been waiting for permission to touch them.Callum lay beside her, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting just inches from her bare back. He hadn’t moved since she’d drifted off. Not really. Just watched her sleep like he was memorizing her in a language he didn’t want to forget.Eden stirred as if sensing the weight of his gaze, her lashes twitching before her eyes blinked open slowly. Her face was still marked with sleep—peaceful, but furrowed in the middle like waking up was confusing.“Hi,” she said, her voice still warm from dreaming.“Hey.” His voice was softer than usual, barely above a whisper.They laid like that, facing one another in the hush of morning. Not touching, but not apart either.There were things hanging in the air between them. Words like Are you okay? and Was it just comfort? Words like Do you regret it? or worse—Do you need space?Eden didn’t ask any of them. Neither di

Chapter Eighteen: Come to MeEdenIt was 2:04 a.m.The city outside was asleep, and the suite was still—except for her.She sat on the edge of the couch in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and underwear, the faint glow of the streetlamp pouring through the window and brushing her legs with soft light.The email had been gnawing at her for hours.She couldn’t sleep.Couldn’t stop seeing her name on something dirty. Something Dusty.And for once, she didn’t want to carry it alone.She opened her messages and scrolled until she found his name.Eden:Come to me. I need you. Now.Her fingers hovered. A breath. A heartbeat.Then she hit send.He answered in less than sixty seconds.Callum:Are you okay? What happened? I’m on my way.She stared at the screen.She hadn’t meant to scare him.But part of her had needed to know… that she wasn’t alone.That she could reach out and someone would come running—not with excuses, not with guilt, but with certainty.She wrapped her arms around her knee

EdenIt was quiet.Not just in the suite, but in her chest. Her bones. The way her breath moved in and out without catching anymore. It had been six days since the knock. Six days since Dusty. Six days since Callum stepped through her front door like a damn storm in a tailored suit and put himself between her and her past.And now… it was quiet.Her mornings started with coffee and Callum’s name lighting up her phone. Her days were slow but purposeful—finalizing the bakery paperwork, testing out icing recipes with Katie, helping Beckett build a cardboard fort that spanned the entire living room.Maggie had started calling Callum “Coffee Man.”He pretended to hate it.He absolutely did not.Eden stood at the sink, hands covered in flour, staring out the window like something might rise over the rooftops and announce that life was finally hers again.“You always this focused when you bake?” Callum’s voice interrupted her thoughts.He leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, forear

EdenThe suite was quiet except for the faint blue glow of the hallway nightlight. Maggie’s soft breathing came from the back room. Katie had sprawled out on the couch with her favorite blanket tangled around her. Beckett had finally stopped talking in his sleep.Eden sat on the floor in the kitchen, back against the cabinets, legs curled beneath her.The message still lingered in her mind. She hadn’t replied. Didn’t need to. Dusty didn’t send threats for conversation—he sent them for control.Her thumb traced the side of her phone. She’d told Callum about it, and his deep, calming voice had anchored her. He said he’d stop by in the morning.Now it was nearly midnight.The knock came soft at first.Three taps. Slow. Deliberate.Her heart jumped into her throat.She rose carefully, trying not to wake the kids, and padded to the front door of the suite. She didn’t speak. Just stared at the frosted glass panel beside the frame.A silhouette stood still, unmoving.Her phone buzzed in her