by Abby Gaines
“You like me.” He chuckled. “You hate how much you like me.”
Daniel jerked awake for a moment, said, “Sadie?” then subsided again.
“We’d better get him out of here,” Sadie said. “Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk.” Trey climbed off his stool gingerly and was relieved to find himself steady. “Where are we taking him?”
“His place… I assume he has his keys.” Sadie began to pat Daniel’s pockets.
Trey batted her hands out of the way. “No cheap thrills. I’ll do that.”
As it turned out, Daniel didn’t have his keys. He probably had one hidden somewhere, but Sadie didn’t fancy poking around outside his house in the small hours of the morning.
“We need someone who won’t mind being disturbed this late, and who knows how to revive a drunk,” Trey said.
Sadie raised her eyebrows. “Are you thinking who I’m thinking?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THEY GOT LEXIE out of bed, but instead of her looking a wreck, as Sadie would have, her blond hair cascaded fetchingly around her shoulders, which were covered only by the thin, silky straps of her nightgown.
Within two minutes she had coffee on the go and was mixing up what she called her Patent Hangover Prevention Tonic. An impressive multitasker, Lexie flirted like mad with Trey as she blended the drink, but it seemed he was too under the weather to respond.
When she went into the dining room to find a glass, Sadie followed.
“We should try to get some water down Daniel, too,” Lexie said, opening a cupboard in the sideboard. “And if he can swallow some ibuprofen, so much the better.”
“Did you sleep with Trey the other night?” Sadie asked.
Lexie pulled out a highball glass. “Wow. Total non— What’s that thing called when something doesn’t follow what went before?”
“Non sequitur,” Sadie said.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Lexie grinned. “You got my text, right?”
“I suspected exaggeration.” At least she did after Trey told her to.
Lexie chortled. “You got me. Nothing doing.”
Who knew relief could feel like the sun coming out after a hurricane?
“That’s got to be good for your new, sexually restrained lifestyle,” Sadie encouraged Lexie as they returned to the kitchen.
“I’m thrilled,” the other woman deadpanned as she shook a couple of ibuprofen tablets from a bottle. “Let’s see if we can get these down him.”
By 4:00 a.m. Daniel had swallowed coffee, water and pills in two back-to-back cycles—Lexie’s medication strategy bore no resemblance to the label on the bottle—and was restlessly asleep on Lexie’s couch.
Lexie “generously” offered to let Trey stay, too, since he wasn’t in any shape to drive back to Cordova.
Sadie refused. “I’ll take him to my place, then drop him at his truck in the morning so he can collect Daniel.”
Lexie’s wink said she wasn’t buying Sadie’s pragmatic approach.
DON’T BLOW IT, Meg told herself as she slicked gloss on her lips before checking her reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece. She knew what she had to do, and she would do it. Even if it killed her. Don’t be stupid—it’s not going to kill you.
“He’ll be here in five,” Sadie said.
Meg shot her a grateful glance. “Thanks for taking the morning off to stay with me.”
“No problem. Work’s no fun at the moment, anyway.” Sadie had her laptop set up on the dining table and was working on something incomprehensible “for relaxation.”
“When Daniel arrives I’ll stay out on the porch. You can call if you need me.” She glanced around the room, whose high ceiling gave an illusion of space that was destroyed as soon as you put half a dozen people in there. “Maybe I need a bigger house.”
Meg felt guilty—her stuff took up much more space than Sadie’s. She felt even worse when she thought about how non-soundproof those walls were. “I should move out, give you some space. Even if Daniel and I don’t get back together…” A sob took her by surprise, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
She expected Sadie to say Of course you won’t move out. I love having you here!
Instead, Sadie pushed her chair back and moved restlessly to the window, coffee in hand.
Sadie wants me gone, Meg thought, appalled. She’s sick of my irresponsible behavior, too. She glanced around the room, looking for something to straighten. But the bungalow was immaculate. Even the pile of laundry Meg had folded last night had been cleared away.
Meg swallowed. Surely Sadie didn’t want to get rid of her. Meg loved her other friends, Lexie and that crowd, but she didn’t need them, trust them, the way she trusted Sadie to be in her life through thick and thin.
“I’ll make coffee,” she offered.
Sadie looked up in surprise. “There’s a pot on the counter.”
“I’ll pour you another cup,” Meg said.
“I’m overwired as it is.” Sadie set her empty mug down on the dining table.
Meg darted forward and grabbed it. “I’ll take this to the kitchen.”
Sadie smiled. “Someone has ants in her pants.”
It was an old expression of Mary-Beth Beecham’s. Meg smiled. “Maybe I need a dose of cod-liver oil.”
Sadie smacked her forehead. “I knew I forgot something.”
For a moment the bond between them was so tight, closer than any sisters could have been. Meg hadn’t felt this close to Sadie in weeks. Maybe that was the problem.
“If Daniel and I get back together, I promise we won’t shut you out,” she said.
Sadie turned distant again. “You haven’t shut me out at all. Don’t be silly.”
Meg didn’t think so, either. In the past, she’d been as bad as every other girl she knew about temporarily abandoning her friends during the intense start-up phase of a new romance. But with Daniel, whom she owed to Sadie, she’d really tried.
“How’s your—” Meg racked her brain but couldn’t remember a single detail of Sadie’s work “—research thingy going?”
“My research thingy’s going okay, thank you.”
They never talked much about Sadie’s work because Meg didn’t get the scientific jargon and Sadie wasn’t big on layman’s terms. Maybe Meg should have tried harder.
I’ve been a really bad friend to Sadie, and she’s just figured it out. That’s why she wants me to leave. Meg chewed her lower lip, getting rid of the gloss she’d applied to look perfectly dewy.
She paced the room, thinking.
“Meg, could you keep still?” Sadie demanded.
Meg froze. She’d never heard Sadie impatient with her before. She eyed her friend, who looked tense, worried. Was something going on that she didn’t know about? That she hadn’t bothered to ask about?
She and Sadie had fallen into clearly defined roles early in their friendship. Meg had the glamorous life, the one that required endless gossip and dissection and speculation. Sadie just got on with her job, whether it was the job of being the smartest girl in school or a super biologist. She listened to Meg’s woes, admired her outfits and her boyfriends, and on the rare occasions she wandered into those areas herself, asked for Meg’s input.
“Sadie, I know you and Trey made out, but are you seriously seeing each other?” Meg asked. She was still hurt Sadie hadn’t told her about Wes Burns, that she’d been forced to hear it from Trey, of all people. But if Sadie didn’t think Meg was much of a friend, maybe she’d stopped telling her the important stuff.
“No!” But Sadie had turned pink. Something was going on. And she didn’t want to tell Meg. She’d probably told Lexie, with whom she’d forged a bizarre alliance.
Meg blinked hard…then jumped at the unmistakable sound of Trey’s truck pulling up. She touched her dry lips—did she have time to regloss? Doors slammed and a moment later heavy footfalls thudded on the porch.
She wasn’t ready. She’d been thinking about
Sadie so much, she hadn’t rehearsed what to say to Daniel. Now, thankfully, it came to her in a flash, a solution that would fix things with Daniel, and get her away from this awful tension with Sadie.
He walked in the door; she was vaguely aware of Trey behind him. She drank in every inch of Daniel’s beloved face. Sadie had mentioned he might be under the weather, but he looked as immaculate as ever in a perfectly ironed striped shirt and chinos.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Let’s go see your mother,” Meg said. “Right now.”
“Meg,” Sadie said, worried. “Are you sure?”
Daniel hesitated. “Don’t you think we should talk? Figure things out?”
“We’ll talk on the way. I want to see your mom. Please, Daniel.” Before I chicken out.
He turned back to the door, then stopped.
“Take my truck.” Trey tossed his keys.
Daniel caught them.
SADIE COULDN’T CONCENTRATE on her email for wondering how Meg was doing. She was afraid her friend had been hasty, rushing to the hospital. Daniel might have let her take it more slowly if he’d believed she was making a good-faith effort.
Sadie sat back from her keyboard, unsure how she felt.
If Meg and Daniel got back together now…well, that would be it. Sadie would have to choke the life out of any lingering hope, and throw herself wholeheartedly into her role as maid of honor.
She sat very still, waiting for the impact to hit her. There it was…regret…impatience…envy that her friend would have found a lasting love.
Not total devastation. How odd.
“I’m thinking this is a good opportunity to sow grass seed,” Trey said, sticking his head around the front door.
“What the—?” Sadie whirled around. “Don’t sneak up on me!”
“Where did you think I was?” he asked, bemused. “Daniel took my truck.”
She pressed a hand to her frantically beating heart. Trey’s gaze followed. “I forgot.”
“What were you thinking about with such utter concentration?” he asked. “The starving people of Africa?”
“Uh, not exactly.” She clicked out of her email. “What were you saying when you snuck up on me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Grass seed. I don’t have anything else to do until Meg gets back. I might as well sow some.”
“Sure,” she said.
Twenty minutes later Trey’s truck pulled up outside. As Sadie watched through the window, Meg emerged. Which left the truck empty.
She hurried outside and down the porch steps. “What happened?”
Meg started to explain, but at that moment Trey came around the side of the house. He’d taken his shirt off. Whatever Meg said was lost, though Sadie was vaguely aware her friend was still talking.
Sadie hadn’t seen him bare chested since…forever. Even though she’d had her hands inside his shirt the other day, she was totally unprepared for this perfect storm of broad shoulders, defined chest, flat abs tapering to lean hips. A light sheen of sweat made him look like a poster model for a soft drink, and damned if those advertisements didn’t work, because Sadie’s throat was suddenly dry as a dust bowl and she needed…quenching.
“Sounds like you really screwed up,” Trey told his sister.
Sadie snapped out of her trance. “Don’t talk to her like that!” What had she missed? Bad news, going by the shrunken look on Meg’s face. Sadie put an arm around her friend. “Ignore him, sweetie. Tell me all about it.”
“There’s not much more to tell,” Meg said.
Great, she’d revealed some fiasco and Sadie had been so busy ogling Trey, she’d missed it.
“Well…” Sadie said.
Meg closed her eyes. “You think Daniel’s right, don’t you? You think I’m selfish.”
“Okay, so maybe this didn’t go so well,” Sadie began tentatively.
“I threw up all over the hospital lobby!”
“Uh…”
“That’s way worse than didn’t go well.”
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said.
“Like I said, I ran out. I couldn’t stay.” Meg scrubbed at her cheeks with her palms.
“Surely Daniel can understand you have a genuine fear,” Sadie said.
“The last thing he said was, ‘If you walk out of here now, that’s the end for us.’” Meg rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m going to my room.”
“You seemed distracted,” Trey said to Sadie after Meg left.
Damn his powers of observation. “I had a late night, thanks to you dragging Daniel to a bar. So shoot me.”
“That’s not why you were distracted,” he said.
She blushed. He must have seen her eyeballing his naked torso.
“This is your big chance,” he said.
What, to jump him while he had his shirt off?
The idea had merit.
“You said you wanted to be sure they weren’t going to get back together,” he said. “This is about as certain as things get.”
“You mean…Daniel?”
Trey shook out his fingers at his sides. “Looks like he’s all yours.”
And Trey clearly didn’t feel the slightest jealousy. Infuriating, after Sadie’s violent feelings toward Lexie. Did he really think she could participate in that incredible kiss with him, then move right on to Daniel? Okay, so she’d entertained the thought herself. But she’d quickly realized it wasn’t that simple.
Apparently, for Trey, it was that simple. She spun on her heel and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Trey called.
“To get my hair colored and my nails done,” she snapped.
“There’s nothing wrong with your hair,” he said.
Nothing wrong. Jerk!
“And to buy new lingerie,” she said.
That shut him up.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AFTER SADIE REVERSED her car out of the driveway, Trey worked like a demon under the broiling sun. Hoeing, sowing, watering. Sweat poured off him as if he was in the seventh circle of hell.
His own personal hell.
He’d lost his mind. He’d been around Sadie so much that her craziness had finally infected him and now he was acting like a lunatic.
How else to explain the consuming turmoil of his thoughts? He couldn’t stop thinking about her buying new lingerie and prettying herself up—which she damn well didn’t need to do, and if Dr. Daniel thought she did, then that just showed what a fool he was.
Trey had never even seen her old lingerie. And he wanted to. Hell, he wanted to see her oldest, rattiest lingerie, just long enough to get it off her.
No point wasting money on new lingerie that would be needed only fifteen milliseconds.
Except…he wasn’t going to get to see it, new or old.
Dammit. He dug a spade into the soil, narrowly missing his booted toes. He swore loud and long.
“Trey? You okay?” Meg had heard his cussing from inside. It wasn’t like him to swear extensively.
“I’m great,” he snarled.
She blinked against the sunlight—she’d been face-down in a pillow the past two hours, and now the day dazzled her. “How’s the garden going?” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me—I can’t concentrate.”
“Heaven forbid you should have to listen to anything you don’t want to,” he muttered.
“You’re such a jerk,” she said. “My whole future just fell apart, so excuse me for not wanting to hear about some stupid plants.”
“Even if those plants and others like them put you through college?”
“Don’t guilt-trip me,” she said.
“You’re not the only one whose life isn’t going exactly as planned,” he said, “so if you want me to join your pity party, forget it.”
“No, you forget it,” she said. “I’ll call Mom, someone who cares about me.”
“You mean someone who won’t tell you to your face what a selfish, childish pain in the butt you are.”
<
br /> Her face turned hot. “Why don’t you hurry up and leave town?”
“I would love to leave town,” he roared. “But Mom asked me to stick around for your wedding and now I’ve been hand-holding your boyfriend back into liking you, all because you’re so pathetic you can’t go and see a dying woman in the hospital.”
Meg froze. “She’s not dying! What have you heard?” Poor Daniel, she had to get to him right now. She had to—
“I don’t know if she’s dying,” Trey admitted. “But neither do you.”
“Believe me, I want to visit Angela. I can’t explain this thing to you, this problem I have, because I don’t get it myself. All I know is I have an extreme, involuntary reaction to hospitals.”
“I knew this would happen,” Trey said bitterly. “I knew you’d screw up this engagement, because you’re such a child, and I’d be the one mopping up the mess. Sadie never had to worry.”
Meg had no idea what he meant about Sadie. “I don’t need you mopping up my mess.”
“Because you’re so good at doing it yourself,” he jeered. “You haven’t dealt with your own problems since you asked me to beat up Jem Garner in sixth grade.”
He’d done it for her, too. Logan had dismissed the hurt she’d felt when Jem called her ugly, but Trey had obligingly thumped the twerp. Then taken the punishment from Dad later. It was only now that Meg saw the irony of Trey getting a whack on the backside for hitting another kid. Her own role in that event hadn’t been heroic. She’d felt bad for getting Trey into trouble, hadn’t been able to face him. So she’d hung around Logan for the afternoon. Leaving Trey isolated.
“You know, Meg,” Trey said, “you’ve always had it easy. I know, you lost Dad and Logan…” He held up his hands. The gesture had bugged her for as long as she could remember—it said she was unreasonable and he wasn’t. “But so did I. Unlike you, I had to take responsibility for a business and for my mother and my sister, when I was nowhere near ready. All I’m asking is that you take responsibility for yourself, instead of expecting everyone else to bail you out or make allowances.”
Why did she even try to explain? “Forget it,” she said. Halfway back to the house, she turned around. “You know, Trey, you used to be kind of a cool brother. You were always bossy and a pain, but whenever I needed someone to tackle a bully, or to tell it like it was, or to stand in my corner…I always called on you, right from when we were little kids.”
