by Abby Gaines
It was coming from down the hall.
They froze.
“It’s Meg,” Sadie hissed. “I thought she was flying today.”
Already he was rebuttoning her shirt. Sadie traced her lips with her thumb, hoping her lipstick had disappeared entirely, rather than being a smudged mess. Trey ran his hands over her curves, smoothing her shirt, and she squawked.
“It’s a bit late for prim outrage, cupcake.” He stepped away from her just as Meg walked in.
The whole scene looked incriminating as heck, Sadie thought, kicking ineffectually at the cushion on the floor. There was no way Meg wouldn’t guess—
Her friend was walking like a zombie, catatonic.
“Meg?” Sadie took a step forward. “What happened?”
Meg stared at Sadie, her eyes wide with shock.
Oh, hell, she’d seen them.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Sadie said, at the same time Trey said, “Don’t even begin to think there’s anything going on, because there’s not.”
Gee, thanks.
“Daniel…” Meg said slowly.
Sadie’s heart lurched. Her friend’s tone implied her next words would be is hurt. Or is dead.
“…broke up with me.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“SWEETIE, THAT’S awful,” Sadie said, even as relief flooded her that Daniel was okay.
Meg sank onto the couch.
“What the hell happened?” Trey loomed over his sister. “What did you do?”
“Quit hassling her.” Sadie shoved him, trying not to think that her hands had just been on him, wanting more of him. Wanting all of him. She knelt before Meg, clasped her knees. “What happened, honey?” She shot a look at Trey. This was how you asked the question.
He rolled his eyes.
Meg pushed her hair off her face; she’d been asleep, Sadie realized. “He—he said I don’t take responsibility, and I expect the world to fall into place around me.”
“That’s not true,” Sadie said crossly, if not honestly. Because even if it was true, Daniel had no right to dump Meg so close to the wedding.
Daniel dumped Meg.
It was as if Sadie hadn’t fully comprehended that the first time. Now, realization burst over her like Fourth of July fireworks.
Daniel is free.
Sadie sank back onto her heels. He’s free.
No no no no no. Not while Meg was sitting right in front of her, brokenhearted.
Then Trey’s hands were on her shoulders, not at all tenderly, as he manhandled her aside. He plunked himself down next to Meg, slung an arm across her shoulders. “It’s a tiff,” he said. “You’re both under pressure with the wedding coming up. It’ll blow over.”
Meg shook her head. “It won’t.”
Sadie cleared her throat. “I’ll bet right now Daniel’s regretting what he said.”
“You keep out of this,” Trey ordered, his voice harsh.
“I behaved stupidly.” Meg buried her face in her hands. “Badly. I lied to Daniel and he caught me.” She emerged to look at Sadie. “That call we made to him last night, on your cell? The phone didn’t switch off properly and he heard you and me talking.”
“What?” No mistaking the menace in Trey’s voice.
“I thought you turned it off,” Sadie said faintly.
“I apologized, but there’s more than that,” Meg said. “Stuff I can’t see how we’re going to fix. He despises me.” She clutched Trey’s hand.
“Meggie, he probably doesn’t despise you,” Trey said uncomfortably.
“He doesn’t,” Sadie assured her. “He said idiotic things in the heat of the moment. All guys do that.” She was drawn to Trey’s gaze, read the message there loud and clear: when he’d said he would miss her…the heat of the moment.
Got it, she transmitted back, then ignored him in favor of Meg. “I’ll bet Daniel will turn up in the morning with masses of flowers and a world-beating apology for being such an idiot.”
“He won’t.”
The conversation went around in circles, with nothing seeming to improve Meg’s perspective.
Sadie’s sympathetic words were punctuated by awful thoughts. Such as—it would be safe to date Daniel as soon as Meg found someone else, which probably wouldn’t take long. And to save any awkwardness, it would be best if Meg moved out—a move that was probably overdue anyway.
“Sweetie, go to bed. I’ll bring you some cocoa,” Sadie said at last.
Meg hugged her, then wandered from the room, looking lost.
“Cocoa?” Trey asked.
“That’s what my mother serves for comfort.” Sadie glanced around the kitchen. “I hope we have some.”
WHICH WAS HOW TREY ended up at the Save-A-Lot buying cocoa at ten o’clock at night.
By the time he returned, he’d figured out how to deal with Sadie. First up, he wasn’t even going to think about kissing her again. Or doing anything else with her. This thing he had for her, this inexplicable desire, was just a symptom of his burning need to get out of town. It wasn’t as if he was hurt by her obvious continued interest in Daniel.
Which she hadn’t been able to hide when she realized Meg and Daniel were over.
He watched as she made the cocoa, squinting to read the instructions on the pack, then measuring scoops of the brown powder with scientific precision. She even measured the milk before pouring it into the mug.
She stuck it in the microwave, setting the time to one minute, thirty seconds.
“Meg likes her drinks hot,” Trey said gruffly. “Better give it another thirty.”
“It says one-thirty on the pack.” She waited until the microwave binged, then tested the cocoa. Then she put it back in the microwave for another half minute.
“That accident with my cell phone,” she said, “when Daniel overheard Meg and me. It was an accident.”
“Right.” Actually, he believed her. He’d coaxed more details out of his sister, and it seemed Meg had meant to turn off the phone, but failed. Probably due to the cocktails Sadie had plied her with, but that case wouldn’t stand up in court.
Through the semi-opaque microwave door Trey watched the mug revolve slowly.
“Maybe the fact they broke up means they weren’t meant to be together,” Sadie said.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”
She pressed her lips together.
“I guess you’ll be going after Daniel now,” he said, needling her. Jabbing himself.
“I’m not a vulture.” But she didn’t meet his eyes.
“No one died—it’s just a breakup. And you want him.”
She didn’t deny it. Trey shouldn’t be surprised—he knew how she felt about the guy. But coming right on the heels of that kiss they’d shared…a kiss that had spun his head around and left him wondering which way was up…even thinking about the possibility of not leaving town just yet…
He was furious.
AFTER A HALF DOZEN BEERS, Trey’s ex-brother-in-law-to-be—something about that sounded wrong, but Trey’s brain was too fuzzy to figure it out—was no longer so buttoned-down perfect.
In fact, that last song Daniel had sung—with only minimal input from Trey, but quite a bit of help from the fat guy sitting at the far end of the bar—had been positively bawdy.
Sadie wouldn’t find her precious Daniel so perfect right now, Trey thought. And was slightly amazed that even the quantity of alcohol he’d consumed tonight hadn’t dulled his anger.
She’d kissed the hell out of him, then lit up like a Christmas tree at the thought of Daniel being a free man.
But he needed to put that resentment aside—what did it even matter who Sadie kissed?—if he was to accomplish his goal. Which was to inspire Daniel to get Meg back.
His sister was miserable, his mom was panicking. How was Trey supposed to leave town with them in such a state? If Daniel would just forgive Meg for her transgressions—the biggest of which was her not visiting Daniel’s mom in the hospita
l, for Pete’s sake; how hard could it be?—they could get this engagement back on track.
Right now it looked impossible, but Trey would do it. Sadie had underestimated him if she thought she had a clear road ahead. Ditto if she thought that kiss meant anything to him.
“You’re sounding paranoid,” Daniel slurred.
Damn, he’d said some of that out loud. “Ignore me, buddy—it’s the beer talking.” Trey held up a finger to tell the bartender they wanted another round.
A minute later the bartender came over with the drinks. He took Trey’s proffered twenty. “You’ve had a request,” he said to Daniel. He pointed at a group of old-timers in a booth the other side of the room. “For ‘Danny Boy.’”
Daniel blinked. “That’s m’name.”
“Really?” The bartender looked at Trey for confirmation. “Shouldn’t be too much of a challenge, then.”
Daniel took a slug of his beer. “D’you know how that song starts?” he asked Trey.
“Badly,” Trey said. “I hate that song.”
“It’s beautiful,” Daniel protested. Except it came out beaufitul.
“Am I in as bad shape as you?” Trey puzzled aloud.
“Pretty close,” the bartender said.
Trey groaned. He really needed to wrap this thing up, and he couldn’t do that until Daniel agreed to go after Meg. An agreement Daniel needed to remember in the morning.
Daniel was humming experimentally, making sure he could nail “Danny Boy.”
Trey took a controlled swig of his drink. “The trouble with Meg,” he said, “is she’s spoiled.” He planned to lay the blame for that on his parents, then appeal to Daniel as the man to help Meg overcome her flaw.
“Not spoiled,” Daniel said. “Irresponsible.”
Irresponsible sounded a lot harder to get past than spoiled. “Yet sweet and generous,” Trey said quickly. “And kind.”
“’S true,” Daniel agreed. “So why can’t she come see my mother in the hospital?” he asked the bartender.
“Beats me.” The guy sounded as if he might have heard this question a few times tonight already. Trey vaguely remembered the subject coming up.
“She said it’s ’cause her brother died in the hospital,” Daniel said.
Trey jolted on his bar stool. “She said that?” Meg gave the impression nothing worried her, especially not decade-old memories. He felt vaguely disturbed at the thought of his sister still having that much of a reaction to Dad’s and Logan’s deaths.
“She can’t go into a hospital,” Daniel said. “Any hospital.”
“Seriously?” Those memories probably flitted through Trey’s mind every day, but they didn’t stop him functioning.
“When your mom had a stroke…” Daniel prompted him.
Now that he thought about it, Meg had told Trey she couldn’t rearrange her work schedule. Maybe it was more that she wouldn’t.
Sympathy mingled with irritation. Obviously she had a problem, but why shouldn’t she snap out of it the way everyone else had to?
Daniel’s humming had grown louder, and now he swiveled his bar stool around and broke out into the opening lines of “Danny Boy.”
Ugh, that song was maudlin.
Two verses later, the fat guy at the end of the bar was blowing his nose, looking emotional at Daniel’s rendition.
“The thing with women—” Trey had used the time to process his thoughts “—is sometimes they act crazy.”
Daniel nodded as he sang about flowers dying and warm dreams.
Didn’t Sadie act crazy ninety percent of the time? Trey never knew what she was going to do next. Which was weird, when she was so sedate.
Not, obviously, when she was kissing him. That wasn’t sedate at all.
“A guy’s gotta get past a bit of crazy,” Trey said. He could imagine Sadie’s reaction to the idea that women were nuts, so guys had to tolerate them. If he’d still been on speaking terms with her, he’d have been tempted to call her and run that line by her. Just for fun.
“Meg said she wouldn’t come to the hospital if I got smashed in a road accident.” Daniel took a break between verses to air his grievance.
“Ouch.” That sounded bad, even for his irresponsible sister. Sadie wouldn’t let a guy down like that.
“Sadie would come to the hospital,” Daniel said.
For a second Trey thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud again. But no, it seemed Daniel’s mind was headed the same direction by sheer coincidence. “Uh, yeah,” Trey said, disconcerted.
“Sadie is very caring.” Daniel swung his stool back around to the bar, his musical turn forgotten.
Yeah, she cared too much for her best friend’s fiancé. Trey grunted.
“I wish I loved Sadie,” Daniel said.
“Well, you don’t.” Trey rammed his fist into his jacket pocket before it accidentally punched Daniel in his self-absorbed head.
“Hard to believe she and Meg are the same age,” Daniel said. “Sadie’s a lot more mature. And she’s smart. I like that in a woman.”
“Meg’s smart, too,” Trey said. “More street-smart than book smart, but that’s important.”
Daniel nodded. “My parents don’t like her,” he said with beer-fueled honesty. “They’re intellectual—” intellekshul “—snobs. The air-stewardess thing…”
“Do you know how hard it is to get into that job?” Trey asked. “They probably get more applicants than medical school.”
“Prob’ly,” Daniel agreed. “Tell my mom that.”
“So you don’t share your parents’ views?”
“Of course not.” Daniel drained his beer. “Hell, I only went to medical school because I couldn’t live with the icy disapproval at home if I didn’t. My folks set high standards pretty much across the board.”
“Sounds tough,” Trey said.
Daniel shook his head. “Turns out I love being a doctor. And I like being organized. I like to get things right. But I know I can take it too far. That’s why Meg’s good for me. Was good for me.” He belched, which Trey figured in the Wilson family was probably a disinheritable offence. “Sadie’s too similar to me.”
“Are you going to go after her?” Trey asked.
“Sadie?”
“Meg,” Trey said through gritted teeth.
“In the end, you’re going to have good and bad times,” Daniel rambled. “What matters is choosing the right person to weather them with.”
“And Meg’s right for you,” Trey suggested heartily.
Daniel looked confused. “Sadie…”
“Is mine,” Trey said. Where the hell had that come from?
Daniel’s eyes widened. “Uh…” Then he turned bug-eyed. “Here she is now.”
Trey turned very slowly on his stool. Sure enough, Sadie stood in the doorway of the bar, exasperation in every line of her body.
She saw them, and her blue eyes sparked. “I can’t believe this,” she said, hands on hips. Her stance thrust her curves out enticingly, and damned if Daniel didn’t notice, going by the way his gaze dropped. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. And what do I find? While Meg is at home devastated, you—” she jabbed a finger at Daniel, which made a nice change from Trey “—are out having a good time.”
Trey thought about the songs he’d had to listen to and concluded no one was having a good time.
“This is your fault.” Sadie rounded on him. “Don’t you care that your sister is brokenhearted?”
“Sure I do. I’m here to help Danny boy woo his bride back,” he said grandly. Unfortunately the words came out slurred.
She rolled her eyes. “Meg’s flying out to Buenos Aires tomorrow afternoon,” she told Daniel. “She’ll be gone three days. If you want to fix this fast, tomorrow morning—” she glanced at her watch “—this morning is the time. And the good news is, she’s agreed to talk to you.”
Daniel blinked. “She’s agreed?”
“You hurt her,” Sadie said. “She doesn’t owe
you anything.”
That concept proved too difficult for him to grasp.
“Okay,” he mumbled. He rested his forehead on the bar.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sadie asked, alarmed.
“He’s drunk, cupcake.” Trey put an arm around her waist, pulled her to him. Mmm, she felt so good. Lucky he was drunk, because sober he was too mad at her to do this.
“So are you,” she said. He noticed she wasn’t pulling away. “We need to get him sobered up in time to see Meg.”
“Why do you want him to talk to Meg? This could be your big opportunity, cupcake.” He decided not to tell her Daniel had been singing her praises. Yeah, he was a jerk.
“Meg’s my best friend,” she said. “I can’t bear to see her so unhappy.”
“So you’ll give her another shot at your man? Kinda masochistic.”
“I always told you I would only go after him if things didn’t work out between them,” she said.
“You’re a good woman, Sadie Beecham,” he drawled.
“You make me sound like an ancient spinster who cooks up her secret apple-pie recipe for the church bake sale.”
“I can see that in your future, now that you mention it.”
She thumped his shoulder. Not lightly.
“Ouch. I’m glad you’re not in better shape,” he said. Then he eyed her shape with blatant appreciation.
She grimaced. “Not only are you drunk, you’re drooling. You need to polish up your act.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I should be more like Daniel.”
They both stared at Daniel, lying with his left cheek mashed into the bar, which pushed his mouth into gold fish lips. While they watched, he emitted a damp snore.
Sadie gave a snort of laughter. “You definitely need to be more like him.” She shifted against Trey, a delightful friction down his right side.
“You’re sexy when I’m drunk,” he said.
“Jerk,” she said pleasantly.
“You don’t have to be over Daniel to sleep with me, do you?” he asked. “Because if it’s just sex, I don’t have a problem with the rebound thing.”
“There’s one little standard I insist upon,” she said sweetly. “I have to like the guy.”
