by Sarah Curtis
He pulled into the parking lot and drove around to the emergency entrance, finding a spot for his bike under the shade of a tree. The automatic doors swept open, blasting an air-conditioned breeze into his face and whipping his hair. He shook it out of his eyes as he scanned the emergency room. It was busy with almost every seat in the waiting area filled. A bad time to talk to Sadie. She’d most likely be running like a chicken with its head chopped off.
He strode past the information desk, barely acknowledging the guy sitting behind it and shoved through the double doors just as someone was coming out—perfect fucking timing—and made his way back to where he’d most likely find Sadie. He usually didn’t like to bother her at work, but right at that moment, he didn’t give two fucks whether he pulled her away from an emergency or not. He wanted answers and an explanation for the letter she’d left for him.
He spied her at the nurses’ station and stopped a moment to take her in. Her head was bowed, reading what he assumed was a patient chart. Her hair was swept into a bun at the top of her head, leaving the slope of her neck bare. He lost count of the amount of times he’d seen her style that way, twisting the thick, brown mane and securing it with a band.
She licked and bit her lower lip—something she did in deep concentration. Dean found himself mesmerized by the action though he’d seen that move more times than he could count, too.
One of the other nurses spotted him, giving Sadie a nudge. Her head jerked up, and he got her eyes—the green of them so bright, he could see their brilliance even from where he stood.
A furrow appeared between her brows before she came around the desk, heading his way.
“What are you doing here?” She was careful to keep out of his personal space, standing a good foot away.
He hated it.
“I think you know why I’m here. We need to talk.”
She glanced around before answering. “I’m busy. Besides, I’ve said it all in my letter.”
That fucking letter. “Don’t you think it only fair I get a chance to respond?”
Her expression softened, conflict lining her features, before it hardened again, resolve taking its place. “Actually, I don’t. And do you want to know why? Because of what I saw last night.” She turned on her heel and hastened out of his reach.
Fuck! He’d only been one place the night before—a dive bar on Ellis. Why the hell she’d been there, he could only guess. He didn’t need to guess at what she’d seen and knew he had his work cut out if he wanted her to forgive him. He would do it, though. Had to. He needed his girl back.
Starting to follow her, he stopped short when she disappeared behind a door marked Authorized Personnel Only. That normally wouldn’t stop him, but he’d made enough of a scene. Already people stared, and he didn’t want her to get into trouble and jeopardize the job she loved. Besides, they could both use a little time to cool off. He knew he could. She wasn’t going anywhere. He could wait—again—though his patience was growing fucking thin.
He walked over to the nurses’ station and the woman who sat behind it. “What time does Sadie get off?”
She hesitated, her eyes everywhere but on him.
“Listen,” his eyes flicked to her nametag, “Shelly. I want to apologize, but how can I do that if I can’t talk to her?” Shelly’s eyes finally landed on his, and he smiled. Throwing out the southern charm, he drawled, “Help a guy out?”
Her shoulders deflated, and she whispered, “Three o’clock.”
He broadened his smile into a grin and gave her a wink for good measure. “Thanks.”
By two forty-five, Dean was camped outside the exit door of the hospital. He’d checked in with Ray, letting him know he was off the clock and not available to work that night. He had more pressing shit to deal with—a five-foot-two firecracker to be precise.
He saw her before she spotted him through the glass, her step faltering before she threw her shoulders back, jutted her chin, and walked with purpose through the sliding door. She didn’t stop as she passed him, and he tagged her wrist, spinning her to a halt.
“Let me go.”
“Won’t do that, baby.”
She yanked her arm, but it was useless. He had a firm grip.
“I have nothing more to say to you, Dean.”
“That’s okay. I’ll do all the talking. All you have to do is listen.”
“Go to hell.”
Dean’s nostrils flared. “Don’t like hearing such ugly words coming from such a pretty mouth.”
“Fuck you.” She gave her arm another useless tug.
He tugged back, slamming her chest to his front. He dipped his face close to hers and gritted out between clenched teeth, “Enough with the cussing.”
She rolled her eyes but otherwise kept her mouth shut. Even though she was purposely trying to push all his buttons, he let it slide. He was supposed to be getting back into her good graces, and he didn’t think throwing her over his knee would accomplish that goal.
“You need to hear me out.”
“I don’t need to do anything. No explanation will excuse you from what I saw.”
She could only have seen one thing. “Darlin’, it’s not what you think.” But fuck him if he could explain what it was.
“Really? Then enlighten me.”
He studied her face. Her eyes—usually so bright—were darkened in anger. Cheeks flushed. Lips pursed.
He had nothing, no excuse he could share with her other than, “It was nothing.”
“Well, it wasn’t nothing to me.”
“Sadie, listen—”
“I have been listening, but you’ve yet to say anything I want to hear. And until you do, I don’t want to talk to you.”
In a move he wasn’t expecting, she twisted her wrist followed by a sharp tug. Not pausing for a second after getting free, she turned on her heel and ran, flat out, across the parking lot.
Dean watched her go, but he was far from giving up. He needed to give her time to cool off. He knew his girl, and she could be stubborn.
He got on his bike and started it, gunning the throttle as it roared to life then waited until Sadie backed from her parking space before making a move to follow. He might be willing to give her space, but he was keeping a close eye on what was his.
Dean hated the quiet of his apartment. He should check in, see if Ray needed him, but he didn’t feel motivated to do it. He took a swig of beer as he flipped through channels faster than his eyes could comprehend what was on the TV screen. He wasn’t paying attention anyway—his mind focused on what he could do to get Sadie back.
His phone rang, and he leaned forward to nab it from the coffee table.
Cobi’s name lit the screen.
Tapping the accept button, he brought it to his ear. “Hey, man, were your ears burning? I was just thinking of calling you.”
There was a deep chuckle before his friend’s voice filled the line. “What’s up?”
“I fucked up.”
“Tell me.”
“Sadie.” He didn’t need to say more. Cobi got it.
“Fuck.”
Dean sighed into the phone. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
Dean spent a few minutes filling him in.
“You need to explain things to her,” were Cobi’s sage words of wisdom.
“You know I can’t.”
“Hiding shit from your girl. That never works out well.”
“Yeah, I’m discovering that. Tell me what to do.”
“Besides coming clean? Hell if I know, brother. I’ll talk to Hadley. Maybe she can help.”
“Yeah, all right. Just don’t wait too long. I’m desperate.”
“Get used to the feeling.”
Dean hung up, cutting off Cobi’s chuckle and tossed his phone on the couch cushion beside him. Leaning back, he took another swig of beer. He thought if anyone would know how Dean could get Sadie back it would be
Cobi, seeing how hard he had to work to win Hadley’s trust. Dean chuckled, remembering. However, Cobi hadn’t given Hadley much choice. He’d just moved her in with him. But that wasn’t an option for Dean with Sadie.
At least not yet.
Dean picked up the remote and resumed aimlessly flipping through stations, but his thoughts quickly returned to his girl.
He’d get her back. He had to.
Because anything else wasn’t an option.
Chapter Ten
Dean
A hand hit Dean’s shoulder, and he ducked out from under the hood of the Toyota he was working on to find Ray standing beside him.
“You ready for the meet with the boss tonight?” he asked.
Dean grabbed the rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands. “Sure.”
“Just like that, no hesitation?”
Dean shrugged. “We’ve been over it already, and you know I have your back.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll pick you up at your place. Eight o’clock.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Things okay with you and Sadie? Saw her at Ma’s last night. You weren’t there.”
Not wanting to air his dirty laundry, Dean kept his reply to a minimum. “She’s mad. I’m working on getting her over it.”
“Well, if you need help with that, man, let me know.”
Dean nodded but didn’t say anything, not wanting to get into it. He knew Sadie loved her brother, but he also knew he was the last person she’d take advice from. He glanced at the clock on the wall—one-thirty. After he finished the oil change he was working on, he’d head out to see Sadie before going out with Ray. She’d dodged him all weekend, and that shit needed to stop.
Dean realized Ray was waiting for a response. Guess he needed to verbalize after all. “Sure thing, but I think I got it covered.”
Ray nodded. “Just saying. I know my sister. She’s got a stubborn streak a mile long.”
“Yeah, we’ve met.”
That got him a laugh, and bonus, an end to the conversation. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you tonight.”
He lifted a chin Ray’s direction, stuck the rag back into his pocket, and got back to work.
He had a date with one stubborn woman.
The location app showed Sadie at a coffee shop down the street from the hospital. Her radio silence was turning him into a stalker. If he weren’t so fucking frustrated, he would laugh at the irony.
Pulling into a metered spot along the curb, he got off his bike and fed the machine his credit card. His long strides ate the distance to the coffee shop as he passed a bookstore but faltered and came to a stop when his eyes caught on a display in the front window of a flower shop. Perfect.
A lyrical tinkling sounded overhead as he opened the door. Tipping his head back, he saw an old-fashioned brass bell—a throwback from an era gone by.
With the first breath he took, his nose was assaulted with too many scents. He didn’t know much about flowers other than chicks liked them and they smelled good, but as he glanced around and could only distinguish between the roses and daisies, he realized his education was lacking more than he’d thought. There were flowers he wouldn’t be able to name even held at gunpoint.
A middle-aged woman appeared from the back, a smile on her face and a greeting on her lips. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’d like a rose. Single. Red.”
“Certainly.” She turned to a cooler along the back wall. “Wanting to tell someone you love them?” she asked, sliding open the glass door.
“Pardon?”
She turned back holding a perfect red rose. “A single red rose signifies you love someone. The meaning dates back to the Roman goddess, Venus, who was the goddess of love.” She smiled, holding out the flower. “Thornless, so she won’t get pricked.”
He took the rose while reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
She waved him away. “No charge. I’m a romantic at heart. Bring her by to meet me one day. That will be payment enough.”
He nodded, making a mental note to buy more flowers from her in the near future. “Thank you.”
She smiled again. “Go. Get the girl.”
Leaving the shop, he silently added back to the end of the woman’s sentence.
He needed to get his girl back.
The coffee shop was packed, but even so, he had no trouble instantly spotting Sadie through the glass door. She was a ray of bright sunlight in an otherwise gloomy interior. Her head was tipped back—he’d caught her mid-laugh.
And fuck him, she wasn’t alone.
Sitting across the table from her was a guy dressed in scrubs. Handsome. Distinguished. Too fucking old for her.
Seriously. What the fuck?
Seeing red, he yanked the door handle and stepped into the shop. The aroma of coffee—pungent and strong—hit him first, followed by the chatter of voices. Not stopping to let his eyes adjust to the gloom, he weaved his way to Sadie, elbowing through the line waiting to order. The rose, forgotten, dangled at his side, the stem clutched in his fist.
He clamped a hand on the back of Sadie’s neck.
Startled, she craned her head around. “Dean!”
“Sadie,” he responded, not looking at her, his eyes only for her friend.
“What are you doing here?”
Dean pulled his eyes away from the douche and turned them on Sadie. “Who’s the guy?”
Her cheeks pinkened right as she whisper-hissed, “Now’s not the time to be jealous. It’s embarrassing.”
He gritted his teeth and parted his lips in what he hoped passed for a smile. Lowering his voice, he repeated, “Who’s the guy?”
They had a few second stare-off before she pursed her lips and finally gave in. “Dean,” she indicated a hand across the table. “Dr. Stan Warren. Stan,” she waved in Dean’s direction, “Dean Keller.”
He didn’t extend a hand to Stan, keeping it planted firmly on Sadie’s nape, but he did add, “Her boyfriend.”
“That’s debatable at this juncture.”
A growl slid up his chest, and he vocalized it by demanding, “Come with me outside.”
“I’m busy.” She shot him a glare and a tight smile of her own.
He leaned in close to her ear and spoke so only she would hear. “Come with me now, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and really embarrass you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she spoke as softly.
“Darlin’, the mood I’m in, do you honestly want to test it?”
Guess she didn’t because she directed her next words to the dickhead across the table. “If you’ll excuse me a moment.”
Stan, who until that point had been silent, replied, “Of course.”
Dean released her neck as she stood, moving his hand to the small of her back, leading her to the door. The din of voices was exchanged for the sounds of traffic as they stepped outside.
Sadie was the first to speak. Stepping to the side of the door, she crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “Unless you’re ready to explain what I saw the other night, we have nothing to say to each other.”
Dean took the step separating them and held up the rose.
She looked at it, up at him, then back at the rose before grudgingly uncrossing her arms and taking it, bringing it to her nose. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
So fucking sweet. Even when pissed.
She waved the rose in front of her. “But this doesn’t change anything.”
He reached out, cupping her jaw in his hand, tracing the soft skin on her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve missed you.”
She exhaled another gust of air. “That doesn’t change anything, either.”
She sounded dejected, defeated, and he fucking hated that. “Who’s the dickwad?”
“Stan is a colleague. He’s an orthopedic surgeon.”
“Stan wants in your pants.”
Her nos
e crinkled. “He wants no such thing.”
“Babe, he sure as fuck does. No more coffee dates with that asswipe.”
“You have no right—”
“I have every fucking right. You’re still my woman.”
“And as I’ve already said, that’s debatable.”
“It’s not fucking debatable. There’s no doubt in my mind you’re mine.”
“In your mind.” She stressed her point by jabbing a finger into his chest.
He snatched her pointer in his fist and brought the tip to his lips. “You will always be my girl, Sadie. I’m not letting you go.”
“This conversation is leading nowhere.”
He took another step closer, forcing her back against the brick wall. “I mean it, Sadie, no more coffee dates.” He dipped his head closer. “Or any dates, for that matter.” He cupped her face in his hand and ran a thumb along her cheek. His voice came out gruff when he said, “I can’t stomach the thought.”
Her eyes softened, and her body lost its stiffness. “It wasn’t a date. I was already here. Stan asked if he could join me. He’s a colleague. It would’ve been awkward if I’d said no.”
His temper cooled a little at that revelation, and he was able to see past the red haze of jealousy enough to sound calm when he said, “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
“No.” Determination replaced the softness in her eyes. “What I saw hurt me—a lot. Until you’re ready to explain, I can’t see you again. No surprise visits to my work. No popping up where I am. Nothing. Please, Dean, my heart can’t take it.”
A tightness entered his gut. At that moment, he felt the distance between them.
And he didn’t like it one fucking bit.
Chapter Eleven
Dean
The warehouse Ray drove them to was in a commercial district on the outskirts of Huntington Beach. Dean paid close attention out his side window as Ray pulled the car around back to enter a darkened alley. He stopped and cut the engine when he got to a closed, metal, roll-down door.