by Susan Hatler
After stumbling her way down her overly-long pea-graveled driveway, she loped across her front porch, still slick from the earlier rain, slipped, and smacked her knee on the heavy oak door.
“This night sucks!” she shouted, glad the neighbors’ houses were far away and her hissy fit had gone unnoticed. She limped up the curved staircase and made her way to her bedroom. She loved her old room—her sanctuary—with its warm chocolate piquet duvet on a bed that faced a set of double-hung shuttered windows overlooking the hundred-year-old rose and herb garden below.
She opened the windows, lit a few candles, and within seconds the heady scent of cucumber and rose mixed with the fresh spring air, cleaned from the earlier rain. The gentle breeze billowed the silk curtains and made the glow of the candles wave and dance against the bedroom wall. Her heartbeat slowed to an even rhythm.
Comforted and slightly mollified, she plopped down hard on the bed. She reached inside the broken box that held all her Ethan memorabilia, and pulled out the advertisement for tonight’s auction, with Ethan’s latest head shot prominently displayed.
“Ethan,” she whispered, touching his picture with her fingertips. What had she expected? For him to swing her up in his arms, claim he’d always fantasized about her, too, then take her to bed? That was her dream, not his. He probably had expected a good time with old friends, herself included. It had been so long since the six of them had all been together as buddies, and she’d had to go run off in a pout.
Some reunion you gave him, she thought.
She ran her finger down Ethan’s picture again, pausing at his lips. She bit her lower lip and sucked in a quick breath, then closed her eyes. In seconds, she’d drifted away to the last time she had seen him in person, the day he left for college.
“Ethan, hurry up! We have to be at the airport in two hours.” Sadie’s brother Theo had been yelling, full of excitement and energy.
She sat on the wrought-iron swing at the edge of the veranda, watching three eighteen-year-old boys go crazy. Theo, Ethan, and Lia’s brother Jack had all been accepted to Harvard. Today was the last day she’d see them for who knew how long.
She drew a finger through the condensation forming on the iced glass of lemonade as she watched the gangly-limbed teenage boys gallop down the steps, aiming for the limo parked on the pea-graveled drive. She supposed it looked like she was watching all three, but her eyes were on one boy only: Ethan.
He was almost five years older, eighteen to her nearly fourteen years. Tall—over six foot four inches—Ethan’s height was enhanced by his silky, thick black hair that fell in curly waves over his dark green eyes. He reminded her of the Greek god, Eros. When he was happy his eyes glowed emerald; when he was mad they turned just a shade away from black.
The swing squeaked as she shifted her weight, the sound catching Ethan’s attention. He stopped his flight down the steps to the limousine to turn and look at Sadie.
Her face grew warm under his intent gaze. In the distance, she could hear her brother yelling again.
“I’ll be there in a sec,” Ethan called to Theo. “I need to say goodbye to Sadie first.”
She sat still, hoping Ethan would stay far enough away so he wouldn’t notice her trembling. He came close, anyway. Could he tell how much he affected her?
“Will you write me?” he asked, his dark eyebrows forming a question.
She managed a whispered, “Yes.”
Ethan leaned against the veranda railing, hooking one foot over the other. “You, Chessie, and my sister Lia may be the biggest twerps in the world, but you’re our twerps.” Ethan’s eyes glowed, radiating caring and kindness. “Don’t let anyone push you around, you hear?”
She nodded, almost unable to breathe.
Ethan eased himself off the railing to stand in front of her, then added, “Good. You girls hold a special place in my heart. Never forget it, Little Twerp.”
She froze as Ethan leaned in closer. She could smell him, could feel his breath on her cheek. Time passed in slow motion. Almost as if she were watching from somewhere outside her body, she saw him bend his neck, his lips coming closer to hers, his scent growing stronger, filling her senses.
Then his lips were at the corner of her mouth and he was kissing her, not exactly on the lips, but not on her cheek, either. Her breathing stopped when his lips touched the corner of her mouth and did not start again until after he had patted her on the head, bounded down the stairs, and dove into the limo, crashing into Theo. The last thing she heard was Ethan laughing and the beating of her own heart as the limo drove away.
Sadie shook her head. She supposed she shouldn’t be so angry, so hurt that Ethan hadn’t recognized her. After all, she’d changed so much. But it still hurt not to be known—it really did hurt.
***
Ethan knew he’d been an idiot. How could he have not recognized Sadie? He’d looked right at her, for Pete’s sake. The poor thing had looked so bewildered when he asked his sister to introduce them. Here he’d thought this was one of his sister’s hot new friends or a coworker. Instead, the woman he’d been hungering after was his best friend’s little sister—and his own friend. How was it he hadn’t recognized her when he noticed her in the crowd?
Hell, he’d spent nearly every day from age fourteen to eighteen at her parent’s house hanging out with her brother, having dinner with her family, spending nights in the spare room down the hall from hers, ditching her and the other Little Twerps when they got too annoying. Just because Sadie had grown up a little didn’t give him the excuse to not recognize her.
Well, in his justification, she had actually grown up quite a bit. Mick Calhoun was right—Sadie was hot. So much of her had changed—her height, her hair, her…boobs. Although, he laughed to himself, one thing hadn’t changed. When she’d stomped her foot and glared at the other bidders, she’d shown her infamous Sadie Courant attitude. At least she still had that.
He shook his head. It still didn’t seem real, his fantasy woman from the auction turning out to be Sadie. Just earlier in the day he’d talked to her on the phone, had laughed at something funny she’d said when she called to apologized for being too late for dinner.
Ethan stepped slowly up the stairs to Sadie’s front door. He’d watched her run from him at the auction, figuring she had headed home. After apologizing to all their friends for being such a dipshit and not recognizing her, he’d headed outside in time to see her take off running down the path that followed the creek, headed toward her house. He’d followed, walking the half-mile to The Cottage.
Built during California’s Gold Rush in the 1850s by Theo and Sadie’s great-great grandfather who’d made a fortune on gold mining, The Cottage had been deceptively named. He’d always considered the place a mansion. On ten acres at the edge of town, it was an opulent two-storied giant of a house. Sadie and Theo had grown up living at the estate, with its cultivated lawns, fountains, and five gardens. Who the hell needed five gardens? With a billiard hall, horses in the stable, an Olympic style pool and an outdoor dance pad, The Cottage seemingly offered everything. At least, to Ethan, who hadn’t a penny to his name and a father who spent what he did have on rot-gut alcohol, Theo and Sadie seemed to have it all.
His knock on the door was met with silence.
“Sadie?” he called, peering in the mullioned windows adjacent to the oak door, looking for signs of life. After ringing the doorbell and still hearing no response, he walked around the house to the side garden.
The glow of candlelight coming from opened windows on the second floor indicated Sadie was home, just ignoring him.
“Sadie!” This time he called out with more determination.
“Go home, Ethan,” she yelled back, her voice choked with emotion.
“I just want to talk, to apologize for not recognizing you. Can’t you let me in for a minute?”
“I don’t want to see you.”
He could understand how miserable she felt, but he was beginning to feel like
a bit of an ass standing under her window hollering out apologies. “Sadie, just let me in.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he demanded.
“Bite me.”
His jaw hardened. That was it. He’d flown in from New York to be in her stupid fundraiser, humiliated himself on-stage, walked a half mile in the middle of the night, and she was basically telling him to eff off? No way was she going to get away with being such a pill. So he hadn’t recognized her—so what? She should be proud of how well she’d grown up, not hiding her head in the sand like an embarrassed ostrich.
Fine. If she was going to behave like a child, he’d treat her like one.
Muttering cuss words under his breath, he grabbed the thick trunk of ivy winding its way up the trellis adjacent to Sadie’s window and began the long trek upward. Sadie may be the drop-dead gorgeous blonde he’d had a hard-on for all night, but with this major pout, she was proving she could still be every bit of a twerp.
The ivy made a faint scratching sound against the wall, bringing Sadie to the window. She leaned against the windowsill and looked down at him. “You idiot. What are you doing?”
Ethan spat out an ivy leaf that had made its way to his mouth. “You won’t let me in and I need to talk to you. I don’t want to do it by yelling at you from your porch.”
“You’re going to kill yourself.”
“Nope. Theo and I used to sneak out this way to go party. This ivy trunk won’t go anywhere.” He pulled himself until he could grasp both sides of the window casing and motioned with his head for her to move out of the way.
“Oh, great. You petty criminals used my room as an escape route.” Sadie’s sarcasm sounded loud and clear, but she backed up and gave him space.
One more strong pull and Ethan’s head and shoulders were in Sadie’s room. He inched his chest across the window frame, pausing partway through. “Here, give me a hand. I used to have a much smaller body.”
“Some cat burglar you’d make.” Sadie reached out, grabbed the back of his white linen shirt, now spotted with water drops and spider webs. With strong hands, she hauled him the remainder of the way into her bedroom.
He bent and dusted off his tuxedo trousers, which had gathered enough leaves and detritus on his way up to start their own forest. A mess formed on the polished hardwood floor. Now, without foliage on his clothing, he stood and gave her a grin.
Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. “How come I never knew about this escape route? Why didn’t I ever see you guys sneak out this way?”
“You were usually over at Chessie’s, but sometimes you were here. You tended to sleep like the dead, so we never had to worry about getting caught.”
“You were here when I was sleeping?” Sadie’s voice sounded small, a contrast to her earlier snark, catching him by surprise.
Ethan cocked his head. Vulnerability wasn’t something he usually associated with Sadie. “Yeah, I used to watch you sometimes. Theo said I was weird, but I thought you were cute. You were so feisty and fiery when you were awake, but like a little angel when you slept. You always had your cat curled up beside you and your headgear on—” Ethan stopped when he noticed tears running down Sadie’s cheeks. “Hey, what’s up, kiddo?”
She shook her head and spread her arms wide. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He stood still, perplexed. He’d been ready for a fight, not tears. What the heck was he supposed to do now? When her gaze dropped to the floor, he figured he’d better do something, and quick. He came closer, then sat down on her bed and pulled her down beside him. The tears were running full bore now. Something tugged at his heart, the same feeling he always got when his little sister would cry. Except there was no way he was feeling like a brother right now. Even with tears streaming down her face, Sadie still was amazingly sexy.
He reached over and pulled her head onto his shoulder, gently rubbing her back. He tugged a tissue from the box on her night stand, then wiped away the tears glistening on her cheeks.
“Try me,” he said, his voice quiet.
“It’s just that, well—” She hiccupped, then the words came out in a tumbled rush. “I haven’t seen you in twelve years and you didn’t even recognize me but I have your face forever burned in my memory and I got soaked in a convertible and I only got to have one martini and I crushed my—never mind.”
“Um, Sadie? I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you.” Ethan put his arm around her, pulling her close. “You’ve got to understand, it was smoky in that room from the dry ice, and I swear, in real life you don’t look a lot like the pictures I’ve seen of you over the years.” He nuzzled her hair. “And you’ve got to remember, the last time I saw you in person was when you had a mouth full of braces, glasses a mile thick, and a head of massively curly hair.”
Sadie choked out a laugh as Ethan stroked her hair back behind her ears. She let out a short laugh. “And was all of fourteen years old.”
“True. Back then you were stick-skinny and rather flat-chested. And here you are now: silky smooth hair, no braces or glasses, and a good four inches taller in those heels you had on. Plus, you have boobs. I definitely can’t remember boobs on the Sadie I used to hang out with.” He fought the desire to stare at her cleavage, and instead sucked in a breath of her perfumed scent.
She smiled and peeked down. “I’ll have you know I grew them myself.”
Ethan laughed, then cupped her chin and turned her to face him. “It is good to see you again, Sadie. It’s been too long.”
A wry smile formed on her lips. Her eyes shifted downward, looking away from him. “I know I’ve changed,” she said slowly. “It just never dawned on me that I changed so much that you wouldn’t even recognize me right off the bat.” She let out a shuddery breath.
He could tell she was working hard to regain control, embarrassed by her earlier bout of tears. He stroked her shoulder with his thumb, encouraging her to continue.
Sadie leaned her head against his shoulder, her hands twisting together in her lap. “Even though you’ve been living so far away, we’ve still been connected—talking on the phone and emailing each other. Texting. I thought you’d be so happy to see me. Instead, you walked up to me at the auction like I was a complete stranger.”
Ethan nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. No amount of apologizing would make this right, but he needed her to forgive him. “In a way you are a complete stranger. You went from cute little kid to absolute knockout and I wasn’t around to witness the transformation. Everyone said you’d grown up and come into your own, but I guess I never got what they meant. I thought you just got your braces off.”
With tears finally at bay, Sadie let out a low and throaty laugh. “I think that everyone expected me to lose the glasses and braces and get a better hairstyle, but what surprised people most were the boobs.”
Ethan stole another appreciative look at her breasts, then thought better of it when his body responded. Now was the time to make up for the years of ignoring Sadie, not the time to try and get her into bed. He still couldn’t reconcile Sadie, the knock-kneed girl he’d known as a kid, with the embodiment of perfection sitting by his side. How he had been the only one not to have seen Sadie’s transformation? Surely over the years Lia would have told him what a knockout Sadie had become. Of course, Lia probably assumed he’d known all along. After all, who would be so wrapped up in their own life that they missed out on the lives of their friends?
Apparently him. He’d been so focused on developing his career that he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the world around him. His sister had lived in an abusive marriage and Sadie had grown boobs, all while he fought to pave his way in a business that demanded more than just his time. A business he’d been eager to take a break from to come back home. Back home to see Lia, and to find Sadie.
The same woman wiping her tears off on his shoulder. He chuckled. She’d done the same thing when she’d fallen off her bike when she was ten and he’d carried her, crying and bl
ubbering, into the house for a bandage. Some things never changed, including Sadie using his clothes to dry her tears.
“What did you mean by the rest of what you said?” he asked. “The stuff about the car and the martini and some mystery thing you said you crushed. Explain.”
“Oh,” she said, then paused. “Well, my plane was delayed, and then the frigging top on my convertible broke so I got soaked on the way up from the airport. I hated that I had to miss dinner with you, and Chessie sloshed one of my martinis all over the floor.”
“I should have given you one of mine,” he said. “Your brother just about force fed them to me. Truthfully, I was just hungry. I was after the olives.”
“Yuck.” Sadie crinkled her nose. “A real martini. I like the girlie kind, the ones with sugar on top.”
“Yeah, that you would,” Ethan said. She snuggled against him, her movement sending ripples of want and need through him. Although his mind kept lecturing him about her being off-limits, his body argued back. He wanted this girl sitting beside him. No—not girl, he corrected himself. Woman. Sadie was all woman now. And the same woman he’d been so drawn to in the crowd. Apology over, he’d probably better say goodbye and make the half-mile trek back to his B&B.
Ethan shifted to get up, but paused in mid-motion, an unfinished thought in the back of his mind. “What else happened? What was it that you crushed?”
Sadie rolled herself back on the bed, fists covering her eyes. Even under the soft candlelight, Ethan could tell she blushed.
“Sadie?” Ethan nudged her side.
She cringed.
