by Sarah Curtis
Conversation halted as they got to their off-ramp and Dean had to work out how to get them into the stadium. They ended up making a full loop before finding the entrance. Once parked, they made the hike into the stadium.
“These are good seats,” Sadie said once they got situated.
Dean had to agree, they were just left of home plate and close enough to see the players’ faces.
“Your connections again?”
Dean threw her a smile. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
Sadie’s laugh—it was a sound he couldn’t get enough of.
“Peanuts. Get your Peanuts!” a vendor shouted.
“Do you want some?”
She debated for a moment. “If I get peanuts, I’ll need something to drink.”
“A problem easily solved. I saw a concession stand at the top of the stairs. What do you want? Coke, beer, water?”
“A beer sounds good.”
Dean flagged the peanut vendor and paid for two bags. “I’ll be right back.” He handed over the peanuts.
The line was long but fast moving, and he was making his way back to their seats in less than fifteen minutes. The place was filling up fast, and Dean noticed the empty seat beside Sadie was now occupied. And the guy sitting in it had his head turned her direction, talking to her. Dean’s jaw tensed when the guy subtly moved his body closer to her.
He got to their aisle and shifted himself in until he was standing directly in front of Sadie. He leaned over and spoke into her ear. “Scoot down a spot.”
She craned her neck back. “What?”
“I said, scoot over.”
She still looked confused. “Sit in your seat?”
“Yeah, babe, sit in my seat.”
“Why?”
His eyes slanted to the guy next to her. He was staring at them, but as soon as he got caught, his eyes quickly darted away. “Sadie, don’t argue, just do it.”
She must have heard something in his tone or seen something in his expression because she made to get up. He moved out of her way, and she took his seat. He sat in hers and handed her a beer.
She took a sip, and a full minute passed before she spoke. “Was there something wrong with the seat I was sitting in?”
He wasn’t surprised she’d broached the subject of his caveman behavior, only at the length of time it had taken her to do so. “Yes.” He took a sip of his beer while staring down at the field, not wanting to see the censure most likely written on her face.
“Do you care to enlighten me on what that may be?”
He internally sighed, knowing she wouldn’t like his answer. Placing an elbow on the armrest between them, he leaned into her, lowering his voice. “I didn’t want you sitting next to that fuckwad.”
She craned her neck to see around him, but he blocked her view. “Why the heck not?”
“He was hitting on you.”
Her brows rose. “He was not.”
“Trust me, he was.”
“Dean,” her voice grew lower but sterner, “the man asked me if this was my first ballgame. He was not hitting on me.”
“Sadie,” his voice was as stern. “Even if a man asks you the time or comments on the weather, he’s hitting on you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m sure you may think so, but I’m a guy so know it’s a fact.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out that little chin of hers. “Are you trying to tell me that if, right now, you had to know the time because there was someplace you desperately needed to be, and you didn’t want to be late, and you asked the nearest woman, you’d be hitting on her?”
“Yes.”
Sadie threw up her hands. “Why?!”
“Because it would be equally as easy to ask a guy. So that means I went out of my way to ask a woman.”
“That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard.”
Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact it’s true.”
“So is this going to be a thing? You getting all growly and bossy anytime a guy talks to me?”
He shrugged again. “That’s the way it is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s the way it is?”
“Darlin’, I’ll do and say things you won’t always understand, but I’ll always have a reason.”
“My previous boyfriends never acted like that.”
His body tensed, and she must have realized her error at bringing up that topic because she squirmed and cleared her throat.
He gave her a tight smile. “And notice, none of them are here.”
She pursed her lips and turned away to look down at the field. “The game is starting.”
That was her way of ending an argument she knew she couldn’t win. He’d give her that and time to absorb everything he’d said.
He gave her until the second inning before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. And she had obviously reached a decision because instead of stiffening in his arms, she laid her head on his shoulder.
Progress.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Dean made his way to the couch, flopped down, and pulled out his phone. Between the baseball game and telling Sadie the haunted house story, Cobi had been on his mind all day. He wanted to call him and touch base.
“Hey, bro,” Cobi answered after the second ring. “How’s things in sunny California?”
“Complicated.”
“Is the new job not working out?”
“No, so far that’s going okay. It’s just… I met someone.”
“Is it serious?”
“She’s my BOOM.”
“I know the timing could be better. But how is that a bad thing?”
“It’s Ray’s sister.”
Silence filled Dean’s ear before Cobi finally said, “Now I see why it’s complicated.”
Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
“What are you going to do? Your life isn’t exactly stable right now.”
“What else can I do but buckle up, enjoy the ride, and hope like hell Sadie doesn’t bail out the chicken exit.”
“You gonna tell her?”
“I can’t.”
“That’s risky, bro.”
“I have no other choice. It’s not like I can just walk away.”
“No, not if she’s your BOOM.”
Silence descended again, each in their own thoughts until Cobi chuckled. “Well, it’ll be a good story to tell your grandkids.”
Dean tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “From your lips to God’s ear, brother, Sadie gives me that chance.”
Chapter Five
A powerful machine between his legs, a warm wind racing through his hair, and his girl pressed flush against his back—life didn’t get much better.
Sadie had the whole weekend off, and he planned to utilize every second of it. Between her work and his, he hadn’t seen nearly as much of her as he would’ve liked the past two weeks. He found he was very greedy when it came to his time with her. When Dean had asked Sadie what she wanted to do, Solvang, a small town in the Santa Ynez Valley, had been her quick response, and he had later learned it was one of her favorite places to visit.
Dean leaned into a turn as he sped them down Pacific Coast Highway, or PCH as he’d learned the locals called it, feeling Sadie’s grip on him tighten. They were an hour into their journey down California’s scenic coast and still had about three to go until they reached their destination.
Sure, they could have shaved about two of those hours from their road trip by taking the congested freeways but choosing to travel California’s most beautiful motorway had been a no brainer—they were in no rush.
When they reached Malibu, Dean turned his bike in the direction of Corral Beach and found a shady spot to park and stretch their legs.
“It’s beautiful.” Sadie had taken off her helmet, and Dean watched, fascinated, as she ra
n her fingers through her hair while gazing at the ocean.
He came up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. “You’re beautiful.”
She twisted her neck, smiling up at him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Looking at her, her hair shining in the sun, her green eyes glowing, her lips plump and ready for the taking, he might have said those words before, but he didn’t mean them as he did now. “Sadie…” He paused, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them. Not yet. She was gazing up at him expectantly, and he knew he had to say something. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She glanced down at her sneakers. “I’ll get sand in my shoes.”
“Problem easily enough solved.” He scooped her up and started running for the shoreline, her laughter following in their wake.
Having never been to Solvang, Dean wasn’t sure what to expect, but the quaint little Danish-themed village wasn’t it. Cruising down Main street, he took in the brightly painted, cottage-style architecture that lined the street. They even passed a pretty damn authentic-looking windmill.
He felt Sadie squirming behind him and knew she was antsy for them to reach their hotel so she could go out and explore. He navigated the streets and a few minutes later was pulling into the parking lot of the bed and breakfast they’d booked.
“Did you know this place was across from a vintage motorcycle museum?” Dean asked as soon as they’d gotten off his bike and Sadie had removed her helmet.
She tipped her head to the side and tapped her chin with her index finger. “Oh, really? No. I had no idea.”
She ruined the charade by laughing, and he swung an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the inn’s entrance. “You know that’s the first place we’re stopping, right?”
That made her laugh harder. “Of course it is.”
Another first for Dean was staying at a bed and breakfast. They were shown to their suite, and Sadie oohed and aahed over every little detail. He was just happy she was so pleased.
“Dean, come look!”
He followed Sadie’s shouted excitement into the bedroom.
“There’s a door that leads right into the garden.” She was standing in the open doorway, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Doesn’t it smell like heaven? Oh, and look,” she pointed. “A butterfly.” She turned to him, her smile so damn bright, it was contagious. “Do you see it?”
He made a show of peering outside before moving her and slamming the door shut, pushing her up against it. “You know what else I see that’s even more interesting?”
Giggling, she shook her head.
“You.”
Her expression turned serious. He’d stared at her countless times over the past few weeks and memorized every one of her features, but now, right at that moment, he could swear he was seeing her for the first time.
The real Sadie.
The woman he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he was in love with.
“Oh, my God, this is so good. You should’ve ordered one.”
Sadie was doing him in, licking yet another ice cream cone. For his sanity, he needed to break her of the sweet and chilly habit.
They were sitting on a bench in the shade, resting their feet and having a snack—as Sadie put it—in preparation for shopping.
Dean hadn’t known one needed to prepare to shop, and the thought that one did, he had to admit, left him feeling a bit apprehensive.
They’d already visited the motorcycle and Hans Christian Anderson Museum—where Dean had learned it was the only such place in the USA that celebrated the Danish author—and toured the historical Mission.
“I think after shopping,” Sadie examined a map of the town she’d procured from their hotel, “we should go back to our room, drop our loot, and change for dinner.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “This place serves authentic Danish cuisine and is right down the road from the inn.”
He raised his brows. “You’ll be hungry so soon after your snack?”
“I’m always hungry for Medisterpølse and Frikadeller.”
“What and what?”
She laughed. “Danish sausage and meatballs.”
A crude joke balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained from voicing it. Instead, he said, “Sounds good.”
Ice cream gone, she stood, tossing the cone in the trash.
“Why do you order ice cream on a cone when you never eat it?” Not to mention, if she ate it out of a cup with a spoon, he wouldn’t have to watch her licking it all the damn time.
She thought about that for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. I just always have.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.” Taking her hand, he scanned the street. “Where to?”
“We’ll go down one side and back up the other.”
They strolled at a leisurely pace, popping in and out of quaint stores selling Danish-themed merchandise, but it wasn’t until they came to a clock shop that Sadie lost her shit. At the sight of hundreds of clocks lining the walls, Dean was a bit in awe himself from the sheer magnitude of them surrounding him.
“Dean, look at this one.” Sadie waved him over. “Isn’t it adorable?”
Dean leaned in to view it better. They all shared a similar theme of a wooden structure in the shape of a cottage house, but each had a different animation. The one he was looking at had a Danish woman holding her skirt as four dogs circled her feet.
She breathed a wistful sigh. “One of these days, I’m going to walk into this store and actually buy one.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
“I love them all, but if I had to pick only one?” She executed a spin on her toe and stopped, pointing with authority. “That one.”
Dean walked to the one depicting a woman sitting on a log with a small boy and girl sitting at her feet while she read to them.
“When the cuckoo chimes, a fairy comes out, waving a wand. I like to think she transports them all into the book so they can have a great adventure,” Sadie said from behind him.
He reached over and took the clock from the wall.
“What are you doing?”
“Buying you the clock.”
She placed a staying hand on his arm. “Dean, that clock is almost seven-hundred dollars.”
“That’s why credit cards were invented.”
He made to move, but she stopped him again. “Dean, no. I can’t let you do that.”
“Sadie, answer one question. Do you love it?”
She hesitated. “Well… yes.”
“In that case, I want you to have it to enjoy now instead of someday.”
A shine hit her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. Her throat worked before she whispered, “Thank you.”
She might have spoken softly but that didn’t lessen the impact of her words. He cupped her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Anything for you.”
“I can’t believe how full I am.”
The sun had fallen while they ate, and with no lights, the street they walked down was dark. It was also quiet. Lack of traffic made the scraping of their shoes along the pavement and the constant chirps from crickets seem especially loud.
“You did eat your weight in sausage.”
“I did not!”
“Heard the waiter tell the people sitting next to us they were all out because some crazy woman ordered the lot.”
A laugh burst from her, and she smacked his arm. “He said no such thing.”
He shrugged, barely managing to keep a straight face. “Just repeating what I heard.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it because I didn’t want to embarrass you, but seeing as you threw it out there, I couldn’t help but notice how many meatballs you put away.”
“Food envy,” he deadpanned.
“What?” she asked amongst a chuckle.
“You noticed because you secretly wanted my meatballs.”
She stopped wal
king, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”
He tsked. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“You’re the one who put it there.”
Dean took her hand, and they started walking again, the silence stretching. But it was a comfortable silence only broken when their B&B came into view.
Sadie looked up at him and smiled. “I had a really good time today. Thank you.”
He lifted their joined hands, kissing the back of hers. “It’s me who should be thanking you for sharing this place with me. I understand why you love it so much.” Dean unlocked the door to their room and followed Sadie in.
She stopped in the center of the living room and looked around. “How’d I miss there wasn’t a TV? Is that even a thing?”
Dean recalled there hadn’t been one in the bedroom either. “We’ve had a long day and need to get up early. We should probably turn in.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He trailed her into the bedroom where she grabbed her overnight bag and headed for the bathroom, closing the door. Dean kicked off his boots and drew his tee shirt over his head, leaving his jeans on but emptying his pockets, throwing his wallet, phone, and their room key on the dresser.
He went to the back door, opened it, and leaned a shoulder against the jamb to stare out into the garden. He heard the sink run for a moment before the door opened. He turned, seeing Sadie standing in the doorway.
His heartbeat tripped before picking up speed. The light from the bathroom silhouetted her curves through the oversized tee shirt she wore, and swear to Christ, it almost brought him to his knees.
His eyes tracked her as she moved to the bed. She stopped, fingering the quilt. “What side of the bed do you want?”
It took his brain a moment to catch up, stuck in a fantasy of Sadie’s legs wrapped around him. He stood from the jamb. “I don’t have a preference.”
“Okay.” She flipped back the quilt and climbed in.
Closing and locking the door, he flipped the light switch before hitting the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later and made his way to the opposite side of the bed, shucked his jeans, and got in, adjusting the pillow as he lay down.