by Joss Wood
Carrick felt Sadie’s hand slide into his and his bumping heart settled, then sighed. What was it about this woman that made him feel relaxed and energized and horny?
Carrick tugged Sadie toward the drinks table and after offering her a virgin mojito, he poured himself a whiskey. Sadie murmured her thanks and sipped her drink. “It must have been as scary as all hell, having the responsibility of a ten-year-old.”
It had been and Carrick didn’t mind admitting it. “It was, but what other choice did we have? Somehow, between us, at twenty, nineteen and eighteen, we made it work.”
“What about school and dating and, you know, having a life?”
Carrick thought back, able to clearly remember his sister as a little girl and the day-to-day grind. “We came up with a system. I dropped out of college to work full-time at Murphy’s. Luckily, we had an amazing management team who looked after the company until I was old enough and experienced enough to run it myself. Ronan and Finn finished college and joined me when they were done.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish school, Carrick.”
It wasn’t that big a deal. Yeah, sometimes he thought he might like a certificate on the wall, but he’d learned all he knew through workplace experience, books and the management team, and he thought he was doing okay. He hadn’t killed the company yet. In fact, they’d had one of their best years ever.
“You must’ve been out of your mind with worry when you heard about her accident.”
The worst night of his life. Carrick took a sip of his whiskey and stared down into his glass. He shuddered, remembering his panic, those anxious hours waiting to hear if she’d make it and meeting Levi for the first time. “Levi was the first person on the scene and he visited her while she was in the hospital. Somewhere along the way they fell in love.”
“But they are only getting together now?”
“They got engaged back then but Tanna was so young. She dumped him a few days before the wedding,” Carrick explained.
Sadie smiled at the happy couple. “I don’t think that’s going to happen again.”
“It had better damn well not,” Carrick growled. “The last non-wedding cost me a frigging fortune.”
“You don’t really care about the money.” Sadie slipped her hand into his and squeezed his fingers. “You’re an awesome brother, Carrick. I can see that she adores you.”
She bent her head to look down at their linked fingers. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. It’s been a long time since I attended a family gathering.” She looked momentarily embarrassed. “I travel a lot and I don’t often attend family gatherings. Well, except for Hassan’s family, obviously.”
Carrick saw the tenderness in her eyes, heard the soft note in her voice. And cursed when jealousy scoured his throat.
“And who exactly is he?” Carrick asked through gritted teeth.
Sadie sipped her drink and looked at him through long and dark and thick eyelashes. Yeah, that coquettish look was designed to melt irritation at fifty paces.
“Hassan is Prince Hassan Ramid El-Aboud. I was with him in Abu Dhabi when you asked me to consult on the Homer.”
With him? Was she with him naked? She needed to define with him and she needed to do it quickly. “Explain.” Carrick bit the word out.
“Well, there was talk about us getting married,” Sadie blithely replied, and Carrick felt the pressure in his head expand.
“He’s asked you to marry him?”
Sadie sipped her mojito. “Uh-huh...”
She was having his kid and was blithely talking about marriage to someone else? Oh, hell no! “Are you being serious?”
“Sure. His family loves me and I’ve been to two of his sister’s weddings and his parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary celebration. Hassan is the only son and he’s spoiled rotten. They can’t wait to marry him off.”
“And they’ve chosen you? An American non-Muslim?”
“His mom is British and they love me.”
“And have you told him that you are pregnant with my child?” Carrick demanded, trying to keep his voice low, but unable to mask his fury.
“Sure,” Sadie cheerfully told him. She lifted her shoulders and let them fall in a careless shrug. “Hassan’s fine with it. Excited, even.”
“You’re not going to marry him and he’s not raising my child!” Carrick roared and every one of his guests whipped around, their eyes wide.
Sadie gurgled with laughter. Carrick huffed. Well, that was one hell of a way to tell the world there was going to be another Murphy—God help them all—in eight or so months’ time. Lucky for them, their friends and family knew how to keep a secret.
Sadie’s smirk had him wondering what, exactly, she was up to.
“I...what...dammit.”
Sadie winked at Levi. “He can hand it out, but he’s not so good at taking it.”
Levi walked over to them and held out his big fist for her to bump and Sadie tapped her knuckles against his. Then she turned back to Carrick and shook her head.
“I was messing with you, Carrick, just like you messed with Levi earlier. And no, I’m not going to marry Hassan, not now, not ever. While his family does think I’m fabulous, they know, as do Hassan and I, that we will never be anything more than friends. You’re looking a bit pale. Would you like to lie down?”
He placed his hands on her cheeks, captured her face between his palms and laughed against her lips.
This woman, she was going to drive him mad.
Going to? Nope, it was already happening.
Seven
In the hallway of Carrick’s house, Sadie pulled on her coat and was winding her scarf around her neck when Carrick touched her elbow. She turned, and he pulled her to the side, dropping his head to speak in her ear.
“Stay.”
One word, so powerful.
He moved off to say goodbye to his other guests, and Sadie stared at his broad back, needing to go but wanting to stay. If she didn’t follow his friends and family out the door, there was a good chance she’d end up in Carrick’s bed again and the line between sex and affection, desire and, well, not love but liking, would become more blurred.
She could not, would not, fall in love with Carrick. She’d fallen in love once before and it had hurt like hell.
She could do friendship, she could do sex, she could do coparenting, but handing her heart over was a step too far. But the more time she spent with Carrick, the blurrier that line became. And those lines were smudged enough already because she was starting to believe that Carrick was nothing like the guy Tamlyn and Beth had portrayed him to be.
There...
She’d admitted it. And it scared her half to death because it felt like she was ripping down a barrier between them, an essential means of protection.
She really should go. But instead of walking through the door, she shrugged out of her coat, hung it up on the hook and tucked her scarf back into the side pocket.
She wasn’t going anywhere...
Not tonight anyway.
Sadie walked back down the hallway. As she passed the dining room, complete with a sixteen-seater table and chairs and an elegant chandelier, she saw the gilded frame of a massive painting hanging over the fireplace. Unable to resist the lure of an exceptional piece of art, she slipped inside the room and walked past the tall chairs to stand in front of the painting, her eyes flying over the image of Madonna and child.
She didn’t recognize the artist, but she did recognize the style, Venetian, possibly eighteenth century. In the style of Caravaggio...possibly by one of his followers because there was no way that Carrick Murphy could have a real Caravaggio on his dining room wall.
Could he?
Sadie heard the tread of masculine feet and when they stopped at the door, she turned her head to look at Carrick. She jerked
her head at the painting and gave him a wry smile. “I’m debating whether this is a real Caravaggio or not.”
Carrick smiled. “Not. It’s by one of his apprentices, we’re not sure which one, but we’re sure it’s not by the master.”
“It’s still amazingly emotive.” Sadie pointed at the face of the Madonna, her face suffused with love for her newborn child. “She’s beautiful. They both are.”
“The mother-child bond,” Carrick said, coming to stand next to her, his hands in the pockets of his black pants. “It’s a universal theme.”
Sadie placed her hand on the back of one of the tall dining chairs and kept her eyes on the serene face of the Madonna. “Do you remember your real mom?”
Carrick tensed, but he eventually nodded. “A little. I was six when she died and I remember her reading a book, something about a bear hunt.”
The book had been a favorite of hers, too.
“I remember her perfume, that she loved to hug, how pale she was when she got sick.”
“How did she die?” Sadie asked him, keeping her voice soft and nondemanding.
“Cancer,” Carrick replied. “She was diagnosed in January and was gone by April.”
Sadie winced; that was very quick indeed. “And when did your stepmom enter your lives?”
“I was eight,” Carrick replied, his expression softening. “She gathered us all up and made us feel... I don’t know how to explain it, safe? Loved? Complete?”
“My dad, he tried but he wasn’t very good at the day-to-day practicalities of raising us. He didn’t know how to deal with three heartbroken, confused little boys.” Carrick’s expression was pure guilt. “I shouldn’t say that. He did the best he could while dealing with his own grief.”
“You weren’t criticizing your dad, Carrick, just stating a fact.” Sadie soothed him, placing her hand on his biceps. Carrick covered her hand with his and squeezed her fingers.
“Raeni had this enormous heart, and a deep capacity to love. We were so lucky Dad met and married her.” Carrick looked around and grimaced. “It’s pretty cold in here. Let’s go back to the reception room. Or the study.”
Sadie followed him out of the room and touched the frame of a sketch hanging opposite the door. “I’d love a cup of tea, actually.”
Carrick changed direction and led her down the hallway to the expansive gourmet kitchen, its surfaces covered with glasses and dinner plates.
Sadie winced at the mess. “Shall we pack your dishwasher?”
Carrick filled the kettle and put it on the stove. “My cleaning service will deal with it the morning.” He opened the cupboard and frowned at the boxes of tea. “I have about ten different types and I’m not sure why since I never drink the stuff.” He motioned her over. “Pick your poison.”
Sadie decided on chamomile and watched as Carrick tossed water over the bag. He held her cup and gestured for her to follow him and she did, scooting around the island and heading for a small nook situated just off the kitchen. He placed her cup on the coffee table and gestured to the wide, comfy-looking blue-and-white-striped sofa. On the wall opposite was a widescreen TV. Sadie sat down, and Carrick slumped down next to her, kicking off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.
“I’m so happy Tanna is coming back to live in Boston and that she’s going to marry Levi. It’s a long time overdue.”
“I think things happen when they are supposed to. Maybe the timing was wrong for them back then and right for them now.” Sadie picked up her cup and wrapped her hands around its warm surface. “You said they met and fell in love while she was recovering from her accident?”
Carrick leaned back, shifted down in the sofa and rested his head on the back. “Yeah. She was nineteen and she had some pretty extensive injuries.” His green eyes were haunted. “That night was probably one of the worst of my life. And the months after that weren’t any fun, either. Tamlyn helped me get through that horrible period.” He pulled a face. “She was pretty amazing, to be honest. She kept me from going off my head.”
Sadie ignored the flash of jealousy dancing along her nerves. “I’m glad she was there for you.” And she was; nobody should go through something so horrible on their own.
“Funny to think that we were all with our wives back then, although none of us were married,” Carrick said, his voice rumbly with exhaustion. “Ronan was with Thandi, Finn with Beah. They’d met a few months before. Within the year we were all married. And none of our marriages worked out. Raeni would’ve hated that. She’d hate to know that, ten years on, we’re all emotionally scarred, and all so damn scared of getting it wrong again.”
“Aren’t we all?” Sadie murmured. “Getting divorced dents your confidence big-time.”
Carrick rolled his head to look at her. “You were married?”
“Yep.”
“How long did yours last?”
“Three years,” Sadie said before raising her cup to her lips.
Carrick half turned, his attention on her. “What happened?”
Sadie wanted to push away his question, to change the subject because she hated talking about Dennis, explaining how she’d failed. She should never have said yes. Not to dating him, sleeping with him, to their engagement and certainly not to their marriage.
But she could tell Carrick; she was sure she could. And maybe then he’d understand why she’d believed what she’d heard about his past.
“I was warned about him,” she softly admitted, telling him the secret that no one else knew, not even Hassan. It was something she’d intended to take to the grave but here she was, telling Carrick.
“Who warned you?”
Sadie put her cup down and bent to pull off her strappy heels. Pulling her feet up onto the edge of the sofa, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “Back then I was working for an art gallery on Charles Street and I was locking up when I saw this woman waiting for me. She asked me if we could talk and I said okay, so we walked to a coffee shop across the road.”
Carrick placed his hand on her knee and Sadie felt some of the knots in her neck unraveling.
“What did she say?”
“That he was abusive and controlling and that he wasn’t a nice guy,” Sadie answered. “She was with him for a few years. She thought they were going to get married but he made promises he never kept.”
“Did you believe her?”
Sadie shook her head. “He wasn’t like that with me, not then. I mentioned it to Dennis and he said she didn’t take their breakup well, that he never made her any promises and that she was a bit unstable.”
“And you loved him and wanted to believe him.”
Yeah, she had. “And he was the perfect boyfriend. On our honeymoon he was the perfect husband. It was only when we returned to the city that things started falling apart.”
“She told me not to marry him, and she was right. I should’ve listened to her,” Sadie added.
“A stranger who just appeared out of the blue and started talking trash about your man?” Carrick lifted his eyebrows. “If you had a hint that he was a bastard, then I’d say yeah, you could’ve listened to her, but at that time he was making you happy. Why would you believe her?”
She’d told herself the same thing, in a hundred different ways, but it felt so good to hear her own rationalizations coming from his lips. “Because I didn’t believe her, and because nobody believed me when I said my ex was abusive and controlling, I tend to over-believe what women say about their men.”
Carrick sat up slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. “So that’s why you instinctively believed everything bad you heard about me?”
Sadie nodded slowly. “Have you ever not been believed, Carrick?” Then Sadie remembered that he’d never explained his view of his marriage. He simply didn’t put himself in the position of needing to be being believed or questioned.
Sadie plowed on.
“I told my family. They said I was exaggerating. My dad said I was being melodramatic and my mom agreed. The day after I told them how bad my marriage was, how awful Dennis was to me, my dad accepted tickets to watch a Red Sox game with him. I told my sister, only to later hear that she and my mom had long conversations about me, trying to work out how they could get me to see a psychologist. They staged an intervention, saying I was obviously troubled. And not thinking straight.”
Carrick stared at her, horrified.
Sadie rested her chin on her knee and Carrick gripped her ankle. Sadie instantly felt calmer and more grounded. “I told some friends, but somehow my words always got back to Dennis and the abuse intensified. Our friends started to shun me, my own friends didn’t believe me and my family wanted me to get psychological help. But I still went back to them. I still kept trying to drink from that well. And every time they dismissed my feelings, every time they defended Dennis, I felt like I was reexperiencing the emotional abuse.”
“I’m so sorry, Sadie.”
“I haven’t spoken to any of my family since the divorce,” Sadie admitted.
Carrick’s hand briefly tightened on her ankle. “Your choice or theirs?”
“Both, I suppose. I never contacted them after the papers were signed and they’ve never reached out, either. I’ve heard that Dennis still stays in contact with them, that he’s a frequent visitor to my parents’ and siblings’ houses. He spent last Thanksgiving with them.”
“He hijacked your family. And your friends,” Carrick said, and Sadie heard the anger in his voice. He met her eyes and she saw the buzz of fury in that light gaze. “Seriously, the guy needs to have his features rearranged and I’d be happy to do it.”
Sadie smiled. Call her bloodthirsty, but she’d love to see that.
Carrick’s expression turned pensive. “Maybe you should reach out to your family, Sadie. Check in to let them know you are fine.”
She’d thought about doing that, especially since she had a child on the way, but she was scared. Didn’t she have a right to be? She’d been disappointed by her family so often that she didn’t want to admit she was pregnant from a one-night stand and going to be a single mother.