by Jami Alden
Sadie slammed her hand down on the table. "I'm the girl who just spent twenty thousand dollars to cover the missed loan payments, the one who totally uprooted her life so I could come help out while Dad recovered."
Pete's lips clamped closed. He didn't say anything, but at least he had the decency to look ashamed.
"When do we need it done?" Dylan spoke for the first time.
"Three weeks," Sadie said.
"We'll get it done."
For the first time since this whole mess had blown up her face, she felt a slight tingle of hope.
She, Pete, and Dylan sketched out a game plan and division of responsibilities.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Jim protested as they talked around him.
"Your doctor said you shouldn't have any more stress," June said gently.
"To hell with what my doctor says. You think I'm going to have any less stress, sitting on my duff all day, doing nothing to help clean up the mess I made?"
Sadie looked over at her father, saw the frustration and shame burning in his dark eyes. He was a man who never questioned himself, was always sure of every decision.
She remembered growing up, being hurt by some of those actions, those decisions. How she'd wished to see her father eat his words, to have to admit that he was wrong.
Now that it had happened, she didn't feel at all vindicated. She just felt sad and sorry. "Assuming your doctor says it's okay, we could use your help around the barn and meeting with the buyers," she said.
Suddenly the thick tension in the room was too much for her to bear. She declined June's offer of dessert and headed for the front door, feeling like an anvil was crushing her chest.
She leaned against one of the thick columns of the portico and inhaled deep breaths of air scented with hay and horses. The sky was streaked with pink the tops of the mountains glowing under the evening sun.
She'd missed this, living in San Francisco. The mountains, so huge and forbidding but also giving her a sense of security. The sky so clear and blue it almost hurt to look at it.
What if they couldn't save it?
We'll take car of it.
Dylan's voice, so strong and sure, popped into her head. For some reason tears stung her eyes and wouldn't stop flowing no matter how hard she tried to swallow them back.
Sadie didn't know if it was the arguing with her dad and Pete she was crying about, or the fact that the only person who seemed willing to follow her lead without question was Dylan.
"Look at you, kicking ass and taking names." As though she'd summoned him, Dylan appeared on the porch next to her. "I kind of like this tough side of you."
Sadie gave a watery chuckle followed by a sniff and turned to face him. "It's all an act. Don't believe it for a minute."
###
Dylan had faced down Taliban warriors shooting at him with AK 47's, but that wasn't nearly as scary as a crying Sadie Thornton.
Going on instinct, he pulled her into his arms and gently patted her back. "Hey, now, what's this about?" he asked, trying to keep his focus on comforting her, rather than on how good she felt pressed up against him, her head resting trustingly on his shoulder.
His eyes drifted closed at the feel of her arms twining around his waist. His hand drifted up her back, fingers coiling in the thick curtain of hair spilling over her shoulders. How easy would it be to tip her head back, bend his mouth to hers.
A loud sniff against his chest brought him back from the edge. "Sorry," she said in a muffled voice. "I'm not usually this emotional about stuff." She tipped her head back and gave him a wobbly smile.
"You know what you need?"
"To win the lottery?"
He laughed and couldn't resist giving her another squeeze. "You need to take a break and get your mind off of all of this."
"Oh yeah, what do you have in mind?"
His brain flashed to an image of her, spread out on his bed while he did all manner of distracting things to her naked body. He shoved it out and took a step back before she could feel the effect the all too vivid image had on the lower half of his body.
"I was thinking a drink and a decent meal might be a good start."
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I don't feel like going into town, not when I'm such a mess."
To the contrary, even with her face blotchy and her eyes red from crying, she still looked beautiful. He kept the thought to himself. "I've got you covered."
He took her hand in his and led her on the short walk to his cabin. He dropped her hand as he opened the door, resisted the urge to snatch it back up almost immediately.
He walked over to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of vodka. "I don't have any tonic, but I'm pretty sure there's some OJ in here." He rummaged around the refrigerator until he found the carton. "Unless you want it straight?"
Sadie shook her head. "That tough girl stuff is all for show," she said with a laugh.
He poured a generous amount of vodka in two ice filled tumblers and topped it off with the juice.
She took a sip and gave a little gasp. "If this doesn't mellow me out, nothing will."
"I guess I better get you something to soak it up."
"It's okay, you don't have to," she said as he turned back to the fridge.
"Can't have you accusing me of getting you all liquored up so I can take advantage of you." He mentally cringed as soon as the words slipped out.
"I know you'd never do that to me," Sadie said.
Did she sound almost forlorn? Nah, he thought as he pulled out packages of deli meat and cheese.
"Besides, who says you'd need liquor?" she said under her breath.
He pretended not to hear. No matter how many nights he'd fantasized about her, what Sadie needed right now was a friend. Not random sex with him that would just complicate her life further.
Since when have you ever worried about how a woman would feel after you fucked? She's obviously willing. And so are you.
Dylan ignored the little voice as he retrieved condiments and a loaf of bread. It was true. He'd never given much concern to how his sexual partners might feel when he made it clear that he didn't want much of a relationship beyond the bedroom.
But Sadie made him feel different. Lust, hell yes, he was seething with it. But he also genuinely liked her. That, combined with the memory of the funny, awkward girl who'd followed him with her adoring gaze back in high school made him feel something more, something new.
Like he wanted to protect her.
Especially from himself.
He turned around to find her looking at him, challenging him to respond to her whispered declaration.
"I've got turkey and some swiss cheese. What else do you like?"
Disappointment flashed in her eyes as she answered. "Light mayo, heavy on the mustard, and lettuce and tomatoes."
He quickly assembled the sandwiches, put them on a couple of plates and brought them over to the low table in front of the couch. He switched on the TV as she settled in next to him.
He scrolled through the channels, trying to focus on the titles in the guide and not how small the couch suddenly felt.
"Ooh, the Avengers!" Sadie said as the movie title appeared next to one of the movie channel.
"Really?" he said, pleasantly surprised as he scrolled down and pressed the enter button. The action exploded on the screen as the small cabin echoed with the sounds of Thor and Iron Man duking it out in a German forest.
He turned down the volume a couple of notches and turned to find Sadie, rapt. "I would have figured you more for a rom com girl, or that Nicholas Sparks shit."
Sadie waved him off, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Who needs the Notebook when I can have Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans on the same screen. Talk about a chrissandwich!"
He forced his jaw to unclench telling himself there was no reason to get all bent out of shape at Sadie joking about a threesome. "Who?"
"Thor and Captain America? I'm pretty sure Deck has worked with
both of them."
Probably, not that Dylan would remember. He was usually more interested in the actresses his brother got to train. "That guy?" he said, sneering at the screen, "In his cape and that stupid long hair?
Sadie ignored him and took a bite of her sandwich.
Dylan was quiet as he worked on his own turkey and cheese. When Sadie gave a little gasp and shifted in her seat at a shot of Captain America, he couldn't resist commenting. "What's up with them all wearing leotards?"
Sadie polished off the first of her sandwich and washed it down with the rest of her screwdriver. "I imagine it's to make them more aerodynamic when they fly through the air. All I know is I like the way it shows off... everything."
Dylan snorted, gathered up his empty plate, and the two empty glasses—perhaps flexing more than necessary—and headed to the kitchen to refresh their drinks.
Sadie took the refill and thanked him.
"This feels like it could turn into a gay porn any second."
She punched him in the arm. "Shut up. Look there's Scarlet Johannsen. Equal opportunity eye candy."
He chuckled and settled back against the cushions. He let go of his anti-Chris crusade and they watched quietly, sipping at their drinks.
All the while, he was acutely aware of Sadie's presence on the couch next to him. The warmth of her body emanating from her skin. How good she smelled. How easy it would be to turn, lay her back against the cushions.
The space between them shrank, and he could feel her thigh pressing against the outside of his. His mouth went bone dry and he wondered if Sadie was actually making a move.
And if she was, what was he going to do about it?
Her palm slid over his thigh, the touch searing him through the worn fabric of his jeans, making his cock jerk behind his button fly.
Holy crap, she was making a move.
Like a scene from a cartoon, he could feel an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.
Don't mess around with a nice girl like Sadie, said the angel. You'll only hurt her.
Sadie's a grown woman who knows what she wants. Who are you to deny her that? said the devil.
What about your friendship?
Oh, that's right. She'll be really friendly after you reject her. Girls love to be turned down.
Her palm shifted further, her fingers curling into his inner thigh.
Jesus Christ, why did she have to keep pushing it when he was trying so damn hard to do the right thing? Why did she have to make it impossible for him to resist?
As though with a will of its own, his hand found its way to her knee and slid up. His fingers pressed against the supple muscles of her thigh, his blood pounding thick and heavy in his groin at the thought of stripping away the tight jeans and running his fingers over her bare, smooth skin.
Christ, how could he be this turned on at such a casual touch? He took a deep breath, tried to get himself under control.
If he was going to break down and give Sadie what they both so badly wanted, he was going to make damn sure it was good enough to be worth any heartache she might feel down the line.
He turned, reaching out to cup her cheek as he bent his head to hers.
His lips hovered above hers, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. Hers parted, and a soft sound escaped.
Not the gasp of delight or moan of anticipation he was expecting.
A snore.
So soft and delicate he would have called it cute if he was in a mood to find anything cute at that moment.
She was sound asleep. Completely unaware of their hands on each other or the fact that she'd cozied right up against him.
Completely unaware that he'd already mentally stripped her naked and was thinking of exactly how he was going to position their bodies for maximum pleasure on the limited surface of the couch because he wasn't sure he could make it to the bedroom.
Not for the first round anyway.
He let out a pained laugh and pushed away to the other end of the couch. She murmured in her sleep and slid over onto her side, so her head rested on the opposite armrest. She curled her long legs up on the cushion beside her, her sock-clad feet pressing into his outer thigh.
He gently lifted her ankles so her legs could stretch across his lap, wincing as she brushed against his still rock hard dick, which hadn't yet received the message that there would be no action tonight.
Chapter 8
Sadie startled awake, unsure of where she was. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light cast from the single lamp in the corner, she realized she was still on Dylan's couch. She sat up, wincing as her neck protested, and reached for her phone, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. It was after 2 a.m. She wondered what time she'd passed out, and hoped she hadn't done anything embarrassing like drool on Dylan's arm.
A fleece blanket was draped around her shoulders, and she felt a little tug in her midsection at the thought of Dylan tucking it around her. She pulled it off and folded it neatly before she pushed herself off the couch with a jaw-cracking yawn.
She let herself out as quietly as she could, casting a yearning glance at Dylan's closed bedroom door. For a few seconds she let herself imagine him in there, his big, muscled form stretched out beneath the sheets. Did he sleep naked?
She'd never know, she acknowledged as she closed his door softly behind her and made her way across the drive. Not unless she was willing to blatantly throw herself at him. And even then, she wasn't confident he'd take her up on her offer.
He'd been impervious to the signals—subtle though they might have been—she'd attempted to send out earlier. But let's face it, she thought, Dylan had never been one to wait for a woman to send out signals. If he wanted, he went for it.
From what she's observed back in high school, he'd rarely been turned down. She didn't imagine things were any different now.
Sadie prided herself on being a smart girl. She could do the math.
Still, as she slipped between her own sheets, she couldn't stop herself from spinning a fantasy about what might have happened if she'd been a little bolder. If, instead of falling asleep next to him, she'd climbed on his lap and demanded he show her all the ways he'd improved since that first time with Debbie Fleming.
Or what if she'd crept into his room, stripped naked and climbed into bed with him? Run her fingers down those washboard abs until they closed around his rock hard cock?
Which, she'd heard from enough sources was long and thick and expertly wielded by its owner.
He'd wake up, startled at first. Then he'd whisper her name.
I was hoping you'd come.
He slid his hands up her back and pulled her down until her bare breasts pressed against his hair-roughened chest. His mouth took hers in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. his hands were everywhere, cupping and stroking her breasts, squeezing her nipples between his callused fingers.
Then lower, sliding between her legs, finding her hot and wet and more than ready to have his big, thick cock deep inside of her.
His fingers found her clit, stroking, circling—
She came with a jolt and a muffled cry, reality settling around her. She slid her own hand from beneath the waistband of her panties and curled over on her side.
###
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Dylan teased her the next morning over coffee. Her cheeks heated, not because she'd passed out on his couch, but because she couldn't get the vivid image of herself, her hand busy between her thighs as she imagined him touching her.
She dropped her gaze as though afraid he'd somehow read her mind. "Sorry about that."
"No need to be sorry. You can crash on my couch any time."
Though that was far from the ideal scenario in which Sadie ended up sleeping at his cabin, later that evening she took him up on his invitation to once again join him at his place for some real food.
It quickly became a pattern. After June cleared the dishes, they'd head over to Dylan's for edible food
and a drink or two.
Some nights they'd watch a movie or a TV show, but often they lingered over their second dinner talking. She was surprised at how well informed Dylan was on all sorts of subjects. Not only was he a confessed news junkie, but there was always a book out on the coffee table, which changed every couple of days. In the few nights since she'd been coming over, he'd read everything from the latest best seller, to military history, to an old classic.
One night after she'd helped him polish off a pan full of stir-fried chicken and vegetables, she wandered over to his coffee table and picked up his current read, War and Peace. He only had hundred or so pages to go. "You're really reading this?"
"It's not like I'm reading it in the original Russian," he replied with just the barest edge in his tone. "My grasp of English is pretty solid."
"I didn't mean it that way," she said hastily and set the book back on the table. "It's just funny, how things have changed." She turned to him with a smile. "Back in high school, I was supposedly the smart one," she said, making little air quotes with her fingers. "But now you're way more informed about current events and politics than I ever was, not to mention more well read. I can't remember the last time I read anything serious."
He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as he mixed their drinks. "You get a lot of down time when you're deployed. We get boxes of books, out of date magazines and newspapers, and I pretty much read everything I could get my hands on."
He walked over and handed her a vodka tonic and took his place on the couch as Sadie settled on the opposite end.
"I never really thought of that. I was always worried you were getting shot at all the time."
"You worried about me?" His full lips quirked in that sexy half smile that never failed to make her tingle all over.
"Of course, we all worried about you, Damon, and Deck, like we worry about all the military boys in town," she said primly, not about to admit that while she had worried about Dylan's brothers, Dylan's was the name she'd anxiously looked for every time the local paper listed the names of Montana residents killed in action.