Harlequin Superromance August 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: What Happens Between FriendsStaying at Joe'sHer Road Home

by Beth Andrews

  “Sure,” he said, unable to think of a good reason to keep his nephew in the shop with him while he worked. Max ran off, calling the dog while Sadie followed more slowly. “Don’t let him run into the road,” James told her as she reached the door.

  “I’d never let a dog run into the road.”

  “I meant Max.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, blinked innocently. “Oh? I thought I’d have him play in traffic, but if you say not to, well, then...” She shrugged and sashayed out the door, her hips swaying under her long skirt.

  James hoped like hell she was kidding. Hoped even more the kid made it back alive.

  To be on the safe side, he crossed to the window, relieved when Sadie led boy and dog down the knoll to the far edge of his parents’ backyard. Couldn’t tear himself away as Sadie said something to Max that had him laughing, Elvis running around them. A breeze picked up, lifted the ends of her hair, molded that skirt to the roundness of her thighs, the slight, feminine curve of her stomach.

  His mouth dried and he swallowed. Hard. He’d touched her there, had skimmed his hands over her legs, had trailed his lips across the incredibly soft skin of her belly. Had tasted her.

  And now, after finally telling her what was in his heart—only to have her rip that heart from his chest and grind it under her heel as she walked away—he was still mooning over her like some goddamn love-struck teenager.

  The more things changed, he thought, deliberately turning away, the more they freaking stayed the same.

  He called the distributor and ordered doors and windows for a job they were starting next week, then returned a few customer calls, all the while pacing the small confines of the office. All the while avoiding that window.

  Sliding his phone into his pocket, he glanced at her desk and cringed. What a mess. How did anyone work that way, with files stacked haphazardly and papers scattered across the surface? It was enough to make his hands shake with the need to straighten those piles, to organize the papers.

  Though Sadie was messy, that disorganization didn’t seem to affect her work. As much as he hated to admit it, she’d done a good job for Montesano Construction. It shouldn’t piss him off even more.

  But it did.

  He slid to the right, glanced at her computer. The screen was blank. Frowning, he rubbed his fingertips together, reached for the mouse only to snatch his hand back. Whatever she’d been looking at wasn’t his business.

  Except, it was. Sort of. As her boss’s son and part of Montesano Construction, he had every right to know what she’d been doing on a company computer. More than that, it was his responsibility...no, no...more like his duty to—

  The hell with it.

  He moved the mouse, bringing the monitor to life. A website popped up.

  Amtrak’s website.

  She was checking prices, he noted, feeling as if some silent, invisible vortex had sucked the breath from his body. Checking to see how much it’d cost to take the train from Pittsburgh to Napa Valley.

  As always, she was planning her escape.

  Good. That was what he wanted. Her gone. Out of his life, out of his thoughts. Out of his dreams. He wanted to be free of her, once and for all.

  Cursing viciously, he swiped his hand over the mouse, had it flying off the desk to hang by its wire. Damn her.

  He went outside. Found Sadie and Max laughing like loons at Elvis, who was showing off, leaping into the air, waiting for Max to throw the ball.

  “Ten more minutes, Uncle James,” Max called, spying him walking across the parking lot. “Please?”

  “Ten minutes,” James said, stepping up beside Sadie. She stiffened. He ignored it. “Then we have to head to practice.”

  “Practice?” she asked.

  “Hockey practice. Eddie’s finishing up with the bookshelves in the living room at Bradford House so I told him I’d take Max to practice, get him fed after.”

  They watched boy and dog, the silence tense and uncomfortable. It never used to be that way, James thought as he stuck his hand in his pocket to stop himself from touching a strand of her hair that blew in the wind.

  This was their new normal.

  He hated it.

  But he wouldn’t do anything to change it. He’d always been the one to make things right—with his friends and family. To make things comfortable. Easy. Peaceful. It was past time someone else took over that role.

  He glanced at Sadie’s profile. A small smile played on her mouth as she watched Max and Elvis; the sun caught the pale strands in her hair. She was beautiful. So beautiful it hurt to look at her. To realize he still wanted her.

  That he might always love her.

  “When do you leave?”

  As soon as the gruff words left his mouth, he cursed himself for even asking. For caring enough to ask.

  “What?” she asked, squinting as she looked up at him.

  “You were looking at train tickets on the office computer. When do you leave?”

  “I was just pricing them,” she muttered. “Seeing if it would be worth it to sell my Jeep....”

  “But?”

  She sighed, tucked her hair behind her ear. “But Phoebe says I’ll need a vehicle out there and seeing how high the cost of living is in California, I’d be money ahead to keep the car I have. So it looks like I’ll be here a few more weeks at any rate.”

  She didn’t sound happy.

  “Jesus, you make it sound like a prison sentence.”

  “It’s no fun being somewhere you feel trapped.”

  Trapped. That was how she felt being in Shady Grove. Being with him.

  Son of a bitch.

  “I could already be gone,” she continued, crossing her arms, her tone petulant, “out of your hair and your life. You can blame Mom for me still being here.”

  “Irene?”

  “I asked her for a loan. Promised I’d pay her back, offered to have legal papers drawn up, but she wouldn’t give me so much as one cent.”

  “That must’ve been rough.”

  Her gaze flew to his, startled and suspicious. “What do you mean?”

  “It must’ve been rough,” he repeated. “You swallowing your pride and asking her for money only to be turned down.”

  She blushed, lowered her head. “Yeah, it pretty much sucked. But that’s okay. I’ve always made it just fine on my own. I’ll continue to do so. And don’t worry, I’ve already called the employment agency about finding a replacement for me. You won’t be left hanging.”

  He snorted. She always left him hanging. Always left him wanting more than she was willing to give. He wanted to blame her for it—and did. To a point. But he was honest enough with himself to admit he shouldered part of the blame for expecting too much from her.

  For keeping his feelings to himself all this time.

  They fell back into silence. After a few more minutes, James checked his phone. Opened his mouth to call to Max.

  “Is this as weird to you as it is to me?” Sadie asked before he could speak.

  “This?”

  “This.” She waved between them, her brow lowered, her movements agitated. “This. You and me not talking. It’s—”

  “Weird,” he put in. “So you’ve said.”

  “Not just weird but...wrong.”

  “It’s the way I need it to be.”

  “Right. The way you need it to be.” Her voice was quiet. Sad. It killed him. “Never mind that I miss you...that I miss us. That I’ll be leaving and I’m—” Snapping her mouth shut, she shook her head.

  “You’re what?” he asked hoarsely, telling himself it didn’t matter, that she didn’t matter. Knowing he was a liar.

  She met his eyes, her chin lifted in a look of complete defiance. Of strength. But whe
n she spoke, her words were low. Unsure.

  “I’m scared,” she said, surprising the hell out of him. “Scared our friendship really is over. Terrified of living the rest of my life without you in it.”

  He was, too. But there was no other way. “You’ll get through it,” he said, not unkindly. They both would. “Finish up, Max,” he called to his nephew.

  Max waved to let him know he’d heard. James hesitated. Everything inside of him screamed at him to leave before he gave in to his need to comfort her, to try to make things right between them. But, as always, walking away from Sadie was impossible.

  “No matter what’s happened between us,” he said, pitching his voice so his words didn’t carry to Max, who threw the ball for Elvis again, “I wish only the best for you, and I...I hope you’re happy. Wherever you go.”

  Not looking at him, she nodded. Swallowed visibly.

  His truck keys in his hand, he turned.

  “My mom thinks I’m trying to live my dad’s life,” Sadie blurted before he’d taken more than a step.

  “What?”

  “She accused me of not accepting his death, of trying to hold on to him by...I don’t know...following in his footsteps, I guess.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.” She frowned. Shrugged irritably. “I don’t know. Maybe. And if I am,” she asked quietly, “is that so wrong?”

  He was too stunned to speak. He’d always thought she moved from town to town, job to job, for the thrill of it. Because she loved nothing more than the next challenge, a new adventure.

  For so long, he’d been confident he knew Sadie better than anyone else. That he understood everything about her—what made her tick, why she lived her life on the run. Her thoughts and fears and hopes and dreams. But now he wondered how much of that was true and how much was just his wishful thinking brought on by his feelings for her.

  “You’re following in your father’s footsteps,” she continued. “I don’t see anyone holding that against you.”

  “I’m not sure the two are the same.”

  His father was a community leader, a well-respected businessman. More importantly, he was a good family man, a loving and devoted husband and father. From what little he’d heard, Sadie’s dad had been a charming jack-of-all-trades who’d dragged his family from town to town, state to state, in search of his next big break.

  James frowned. But then, he’d always been more than happy to pretend as if her life hadn’t started until she’d moved to Shady Grove, to think that the only father she’d ever had was Will Ellison—because that was the only father James had ever known her to have. Sure, Sadie had told James stories about Victor Nixon, but they’d been the tall tales of a child, offered when she’d first moved here. As they’d grown, Sadie had talked less and less about her dad, sharing only the occasional, casual remark about him.

  “What was he like?” James asked. “Your father.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  A lie settled on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said. But this was Sadie. She may have hurt him, may have broken his heart, but she still deserved the truth. “Because I never asked before,” he admitted quietly. “And I should have.”

  * * *

  SADIE STUDIED James, his gaze warm—like it used to be when he looked at her—his expression honest and open. What it must be like to be that free with one’s emotions. To be able to share your thoughts and feelings so easily.

  The idea of it terrified her.

  “I’m sure you’ve asked me about him,” she said.

  “Possibly.” Though he didn’t seem to believe that. “Indulge me anyway.”

  She couldn’t. She rarely shared her memories of her dad with anyone. Those memories belonged to her, her and her mother. They were special. Private.

  They were all she had left.

  But more than that, worse than that, they weren’t as clear as they should be. Each year they dimmed, fading like a brightly colored painting left out in the sun.

  As if reading her mind, James shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “I need to get Max to practice anyway.”

  “I don’t remember much.” Her words kept him there, talking to her. Listening to her. “Not nearly as much as I wished I did. And of the memories I do have, I’m never certain if they’re real, or a figment of my imagination. Was he really as tall as I remember? As handsome? Or am I projecting onto him the person I want him to be?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know for sure?”

  Inhaling deeply, she nodded. “I know he was funny. Fun. He could juggle and was great with animals, horses especially. He grew up privileged but felt stifled by the responsibilities that came with being part of a wealthy Southern family. The expectations.” Money, he used to tell her, does not buy happiness. “He left home when he was seventeen and never looked back, preferring to make his own way in the world.”

  Preferring to be free.

  “He met my mother one night at a club in Raleigh,” she continued. “He was working at a horse farm there, Mom was attending the University of North Carolina and had gone out with some friends. He asked her out, she said no. It took him weeks, but he finally wore her down. Two months after their first official date, they were married and had moved to St. Louis where I was born.” Sadie stared at James’s parents’ house. “He loved R & B music, made pancakes every Sunday morning and was so claustrophobic he couldn’t even ride in elevators.” She smiled. “I remember clinging to his back like a monkey when I was five or six as he carried me up the nine flights to our apartment.”

  “In St. Louis?”

  “No, we left there when I was a few months old. This was in Baltimore. Or was it D.C.?” She shook her head. “After that, we only took apartments that were on one of the first three floors.”

  “How many times did you move before you and your mom came to Shady Grove?”

  “A dozen at least, though I only clearly remember living in Baltimore, D.C., Memphis and Tallahassee. I thought we were going to stay in Tallahassee for good. My mom did, too. But Dad had a lead on a construction job outside of Baton Rouge. I remember them arguing about it when they thought I’d gone to bed.” It was the first—and last—time Sadie had ever heard her parents fight. “When I got up the next morning, Dad was gone. He’d wanted an early start so he’d left without even telling me goodbye.”

  James touched her shoulder, let his hand linger there for a moment before trailing down her arm, his fingertips cool against her skin. She wanted to grab his hand, to press her mouth against his palm. She wanted, more than anything, to hold on to him in any way possible.

  Except she was afraid it was already too late. She’d already lost him.

  “We got the call about the car accident the next day,” she said. “Two days later we had a private, graveside service for him in the morning. That afternoon we were on our way up here. As we crossed the Florida state line I started crying.” Sobbing, really. She clearly recalled her body racked with so much grief she couldn’t take a full breath, had felt as if she was drowning in her sorrow. “Because even though we’d just put Dad’s body in the ground, even though he was never coming back, all I could think was that we were leaving and he wouldn’t know where to find us. That he’d be looking for us, searching for his family. His home.”

  “You were just a kid,” James said. But he didn’t offer her the comfort of his touch again, no matter how hard she wished he would. “Death’s hard enough to understand as an adult.”

  Her hair blew in her face; she let it go, let it hide her for the moment. “Eventually I stopped thinking he was looking for us. I missed him, but I also got used to him not being there anymore. Life kept moving, kept right on going, day in, day out. By the first anniversary of Dad’s death, Mom was already remarried and pregnant with Charlotte.”

&n
bsp; “You seemed happy. I remember how excited you were that you were going to have a little brother or sister—no matter how many times I tried to warn you having younger siblings wasn’t as much fun as you thought it was going to be.”

  “It was fun,” she insisted, though it’d taken some getting used to, not having her mom’s full attention. But Charlotte had been such a sweet baby, Sadie had fallen in love with her immediately. “Life was good. Mom was happy. And Will never treated me like anything less than his own daughter.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “He is. One of the best. He’s not my dad—God, I don’t think you could get two men who were more different.” Except maybe James and Victor. “But he’s been a really good father to me.”

  “And that made you feel guilty,” James said, knowing her well. Too well. Able to see things she’d rather keep hidden.

  “It was part of it. But it wasn’t just loving Will, it was everything. We’d gone from living this gypsy existence, no ties, no commitments except to each other, to being surrounded by family and friends. Tethered to this town in ways I’d never experienced before.” She and her mother hadn’t just been welcomed into the community, they’d been absorbed by it. Irene had slipped seamlessly back into her life in Shady Grove with her parents and brother, her friends.

  “It changed even more drastically when Mom and Will got together,” Sadie continued. “No more secondhand clothes and sneaking out of town in the middle of the night because we couldn’t pay rent. We had it all. And I loved it. I loved having a stepfather who could afford to buy me everything I wanted. I loved our big, fancy house and the security of knowing that if I asked for some toy or a new dress, I could have it. I was living a life my father would’ve hated, the type of life he himself had walked away from.”

  James bent and picked up a small rock, tossed it onto the weed-choked bank to his right. “That was his choice. What he thought was best for him. It’s okay to want something different for yourself.”

  She wondered if he was talking about her...or himself. All of Montesano Construction’s employees knew about the tension between James and Frank. It hurt that James hadn’t confided in her about his problems with his father, that he wasn’t happy with his place in the company.