“I hope you know how special she is,” Mrs. Simpson remarked as soon as we were on the sidewalk.
I knew this was coming.
So I was prepared.
“I know how special she is.”
“I know men like to believe they can do everything on their own. And men like you, like my husband, like to believe that they shoulder the lion’s share of life’s strife. Men like you who are strong, protective, fierce sometimes can forget that a lioness is vicious in her role to provide for her pride. Do not forget the strength your lioness possesses. She will instinctively fulfill her role and in doing so she will feed your soul. She will strengthen you. She will hunt for and find your demons and she alone will banish them. She will soften your heart and in doing so she will protect it with the same ferociousness she hunts. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Mr. Turmel?”
Fuck.
I was wrong. I was not ready.
Still, I answered, “I understand.”
“Strong men need stronger women. But do not forget there is a fragility that needs to be cared for. She will forget. She’ll go to battle day in and day out. She will strive to be the strength you need. She will need to be reminded, sometimes daily, sometimes multiple times a day, her worth does not come from winning battles. It will come in the form of deeds. Big and small. She will judge her worth on her victories and she will scoff when she fails. It will be up to you to remind her worth comes from the inside, what she gives the world—a smile, a kind gesture, thoughtful words, caring about those around her. Sometimes those are not reciprocated and that’s okay. True kindness isn’t given with the thought of getting something back in return. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I pushed out.
“Good. And lastly, you were correct; my husband gave me more than I needed during our lives. He did that because he loved me. He did it because I gave the same to him. He did it because he knew I need it to heal deep hurts. There are times when a marriage is unbalanced, the same is true in a courtship. One takes, the other gives. The scale will never be truly equal. It’s not meant to be leveled, it’s meant to be forgotten, so forget it now. Take what you need from her now while she is struggling while your instincts are telling you to wrap her in cotton and hide her away. It is only in hardship when a woman or a man can prove their mettle. Teach her how strong she is by laying what’s been holding you back at her feet now while she is in the midst of turmoil. Our Sadie will not let you down. She will rise up to the occasion and she will shine. You will give her that even as you are taking what you need. Do you understand?”
Christ.
Not once in my life had someone so easily read what was weighing on my mind.
But her advice was a day late. I’d already laid out what had been holding me back. Though my need to protect Sadie from what was going on around her was spot on. And Mrs. S. could say what she wanted, but she felt the same way.
But her point was made, and I understood.
“Last night, I told Sadie why I was holding myself back. And she now knows how I feel about her. But, yes, I understand what you’re saying, and I appreciate you sharing your wisdom with me, and I will not forget what you’ve said.”
“How do you feel about her?”
Nosy.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. With Sadie’s parents in Florida and her brother being a monumental douche it was good she had someone looking out for her.
“I enjoy spending time with her.”
“Men.” She ridiculed and lifted her chin in what was meant to be patronizing and she didn’t care that I knew she was mocking me. “It is okay to express your emotions. It does not mean you have a small penis.”
My step halted, the muscles in my neck contracted, and I had to adjust before I tripped and took the old woman down with me.
“Please don’t ever say penis in front of me again,” I begged.
“I wouldn’t think a man of your size would be easily affronted.”
Was she referring to my height or my size?
I violently shook that thought out of my mind before I could contemplate it any further.
“And I wouldn’t think a woman with your class would say penis,” I volleyed.
“Silly, silly, man. You mistake class with experience.”
I wasn’t thinking about that either.
“This conversation is over.”
“Prude.”
I looked down into a pair of eyes that had turned hazy with years. A gentle, wrinkled face that had once been line-free and youthful. She was no less beautiful at ninety than I suspected she was in her twenties, though her beauty was now the true kind that came from within. At thirty, she would’ve been a knockout. High maintenance all the way. Then and now.
“I’m going to have a talk with Letty about the types of books you’re reading.”
“If you think my experience comes from the pages of a romance novel, Mr. Turmel, you are mistaken. There is nothing in those books that could begin to compare to what my handsome husband gave me. There is a reason I am partial to the plundering Vikings in those historicals. There is nothing more exquisite than a predatory man on the hunt when his intentions are pure of heart. I simply wish in your marauding you’d come up with something more fitting than my woman. Perhaps when you conquer you should refer to her as your prize, seeing as that will be what she is. A prize—and if you’re lucky and cherish your spoils, she will be that for the rest of your life. Then you will be well and thoroughly loved as well until it spills over for you to share with the next generation.”
I wondered about the rubric Mrs. Simpson used when deciding between calling me Reese and Mr. Turmel. I did this as an evasive maneuver so my mind wouldn’t accept that a sweet old woman would say things like plundering Viking or predatory man. Nor did I want to think about Mrs. S. talking about me conquering Sadie and cherishing my spoils. Though I was going to cherish the fuck out of her, and part of me cherishing her would be me doing filthy things to her body so one day she’d extol the exquisiteness of the predatory man who loved her so hard he did so in both deeds and orgasms.
“Sadie’s more than a prize. She’s everything.”
“Proof you can teach an old dog new tricks. I take that to mean you’re falling in love with her.”
I waited for the wound in my heart to start leaking poison. The toxicity of that word was so ingrained I never thought there would come a time when I could hear it directed at me again. And I never thought I’d ever consider feeling all that word entails—not ever again.
But the toxin didn’t spill out and pollute my blood. The nausea didn’t come.
“I won’t fight against it,” I admitted.
“Very well. That’s a start. Now open the door like a gentleman. I must get to work.”
Thank fuck.
I walked Mrs. S. in, escorted her to the checkout counter, waved to Letty, and got my ass out of there before I was sweet-talked into moving boxes. Though Letty’s idea of sweet-talking came in the form of a demand.
When I got back to Treats, I was pleased to see there was still a steady stream of customers even though the morning rush was over.
I made my way to the counter where a very bubbly twenty-something greeted me. “Hey, Reese, Sadie said for you to go on back.”
“Thanks.”
“No probs.”
Probs?
Fuck, I was getting old.
Sadie was basically in the same spot I left her in a few hours before, except there were now fresh-out-of-the-oven cupcakes covering the stainless-steel worktable instead of muffins.
“Those smell good, baby.”
“They’ll taste better after they’re frosted,” she said and pushed a naked cupcake my way. “But you can have one now if you want.”
I snatched the treat off the table, peeled back the pastel green paper, and took a bite.
Lemon.
My favorite.
I chewed, swallowed, and shoved the rest into my mouth.
Throughout this Sadie watched—eyes dancing, a bright smile on her lips.
Damn, she was gorgeous.
“Good?”
“Delicious.”
I didn’t miss the way her chin dipped at my compliment or the way her smile got bigger.
“We got a problem, Sadie.”
Her smile vanished and her shoulders hunched forward. “What now?”
“Not sure I can find more hours in the day to hit the gym,” I started. “Means I’m gonna need an alternate way to burn off the copious calories and sugar I’ll be consuming when you bring home the leftovers from your case.”
Her lips twitched.
“I think maybe we might be able to come up with an at-home workout plan.”
Yeah, we would.
“I got the cameras I need, are you gonna have a problem with me working out front when you have customers? I won’t make a mess, but I’ll be drilling. Didn’t think about it before but if you’d rather I wait, I’ll come back later.”
Sadie’s nose scrunched.
“You care,” I muttered. “No worries. Is there a time when you’re not busy?”
“Between two and three is usually dead. A few stragglers here and there. But I don’t pick up again until after three, then until close is busy again.”
The doors were open from seven to six—eleven hours with only one of those hours being slow.
If that motherfucker hadn’t taken her money, she’d have no worries.
“I’ll be back at two,” I told her. “What were you and Mrs. S. talking about?”
To my surprise, Sadie didn’t make me work for it.
She told me everything they’d spoken about right down to Mrs. S. scolding her about not telling Letty and Brooklyn.
“She’s right about Letty and Brooklyn,” I told her.
“I know. I was going to go over to Smutties once I get the cases full for the afternoon rush.”
“Good.”
Sadie bit her bottom lip and fidgeted with a spatula she was using to scrape the sides of a bowl of what looked like chocolate frosting. Though Sadie didn’t do something as simple as plain old chocolate so I knew it would be flavored. From experience, I’d guess raspberry.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“She covered my rent,” she whispered. “The rent I owed plus six months in advance.”
Shit. Maybe that wasn’t enough to get her caught up.
“If you still need money, my loan’s still on the table. I’ll float you whatever you need to get back on your feet.”
“It’s not that,” she whispered. “I should be able to start building back up. I’ll talk to her about a payment plan. And really, it was the back rent that was killing me. If I can stretch that out over a few months, make small payments, it will help huge.”
“Okay. So what’s got you tweaked?”
“Mrs. Simpson paid it.”
She said that like it was morally imperative I understood but I wasn’t tracking.
“She likes you.”
“She more than likes me.”
Ah, I got it.
“Yeah, Sadie. She cares about you. So do I. So do Letty and Brooklyn. Rhode, River, Wilson, hell, all the guys. None of us would let you fall. Not individually, not collectively. One way or another we’re gonna pull you through this.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Or maybe it was the right thing.
Sadie bowed her head and her shoulders trembled in big racking shakes.
I moved around the table, pulled the spatula out of her hand, tossed it on the table, and scooped her up.
By the time I made it to her office, Sadie’s face was shoved against my neck, my skin was wet, and she was shuddering.
I spun her office chair around, planted my ass in it, and prayed it didn’t collapse under our weight. I gave her a few minutes of silence before I spoke.
“I take it you’re finally seeing it.”
She nodded her head but didn’t speak.
“That’s good, baby. Real good.”
I waited longer. Then, because she’d opened her eyes to the people around her, I decided to push.
“I want you to think about moving in with me.” I felt her body jolt, then she went solid, but I soldiered on. “If you don’t want me there, I’ll go stay at Asher’s place. But I want you at my cabin.”
“Reese.”
“Don’t answer me now, just think about it. You need to save money while you’re getting back on your feet. You can stay there a month, three, six, whatever you need.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
Christ.
Mrs. S. was a miracle worker.
“Thank you.”
There was another bout of silence. This time I didn’t try to fill it. I simply sat in a too-small chair, holding Sadie in my lap, thinking about how good she felt.
How right.
Then I let my mind wander to something Mrs. S. had said.
Our Sadie will not let you down.
I let that wash over me, allowing those words to replace years of cynicism. Not every woman was my ex-wife. Not every woman cheated.
Sadie deserved a clean slate, she shouldn’t pay for someone else’s mistakes.
Fuck, we deserved a clean slate.
Both of us.
Starting new, starting fresh, starting now.
“I need to talk to my parents,” she mumbled, misery clear in her tone. “They’re not going to be happy I’ve kept this from them.”
I bet they won’t be.
Since she hadn’t asked a question there was nothing to say so I gave her a squeeze.
“Should I tell them about Josh?”
I couldn’t think about how fucking good it felt she was asking my opinion about what to tell her parents or I’d be swept away with emotion. It wasn’t because I was asked my opinion; I get asked and give my input daily. But my team asking me about a case and Sadie asking me were two vastly different things.
“No. One thing at a time. Wait to tell them about Josh until I have more information for you to give them. Besides, there’s nothing they can do for Josh. He’s made his choice.”
“Okay.” Another beat of silence. “They’re gonna be so pissed I didn’t tell them sooner.”
“Probably. And you’re gonna have to give them that. They love you. You’ve been struggling and they’ve been living their life in Florida, they’re gonna feel some parental guilt for that. They’re gonna be upset you didn’t give them the opportunity to help you. But in the end, they’ll get over it. They’ll understand.”
She nodded and pushed her forehead deeper into my neck.
“Thank you for listening.”
Shot. To. My. Heart.
“Anytime, Sadie, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I dropped my lips to the top of her head and left them there.
Lemon and sugar with a hint of vanilla.
In the quiet of her office, Sadie in my arms, breathing her in, I felt the undeniable connection that had already clicked into place, lock.
Sadie could call this off tomorrow, she could end us before we really had a chance to start and walk away. The thought terrified me. Down to my bones scared the shit out of me. If she left, she’d take a piece of me. A piece that was far bigger than the one the woman I’d married had taken. It wouldn’t be my trust she’d shatter—it would be my heart. It wouldn’t be my manhood that would take a hit—it would be my soul.
I lied to Mrs. Simpson at least in part. The truth was I wasn’t going to fight falling in love with Sadie—I was going to actively pursue it. I was going to drag her along with me until she was in just as deep as I was. Then I’d do what I’d never done before and beg her never to go.