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“What is it?”
“Something new. Something we don’t offer. Something profitable.”
“Something Daire approves of?”
It’s unsettling how well Sadie knows my family dynamics. “Daire doesn’t know about it yet. It’s not ready, but it will be soon.”
She turns to me again, her face bright, her hazel-green eyes sparkling. “Easton. That’s great. I’m so happy for you. You found your calling.”
That word. She’s been saying I need a calling and trying to get me to meditate so the universe can tell me what it is. “It’s not a calling. It’s a business venture.”
“That you’re passionate about?”
I nod.
“It’s a call?—”
I press my finger against her sensual lips and stare into those wide, knowing eyes. Trouble indeed.
Her lips part, and her tongue darts out to the corner of her mouth, grazing my finger.
My dick stiffens. I jerk my hand away. “What was that?”
“I had a piece of egg on my lip.”
I shove from the couch and stalk to the kitchen.
“Easton. Why are you upset? I’m celebrating you. I’m so proud. And I did have a piece of egg on my lip. I swear. I wasn’t trying to be gross and lick your finger.”
Gross? I scoff. Only sweet little Sadiecakes would think I’d find her licking my finger gross. “I’m getting food, that’s all.” And putting some much-needed distance between us. Physically and mentally.
The women in my life know how I like sex. They know nothing about my personal life, my goals, or anything beneath the surface. Sadie knows me. At some point, I let down my guard, and she was able to breach my walls. I can’t recall the exact moment when it happened, only that it did, and it’s scary as fuck. She doesn’t know all my secrets, though. Some things are better left unknown.
Chapter 5
Sadie
“You’re upset.” I walk to the counter that separates the living room from the kitchen. “I can tell by your expression and quick escape.”
His posture stiffens, and he stands taller, like he’s using his height to distance himself, too.
“You’re mistaking hunger for upset.” He scoops the rest of the eggs from the pan to a plate and refills a near-empty coffee cup.
I’m not mistaking anything. He’s closing off, the way he does. When we talk, usually at night on the phone, or when he’s been drinking, he opens up to me. I don’t think he remembers everything he says, but I do. I love the parts of him he hides behind flirting and acting like he doesn’t care about anything.
Easton cares. He’s here for example. I think that’s why I called him. Deep down, I knew he’d come. Everleigh would have come too, but she doesn’t need to upset or over-exert herself right now.
I didn’t call Dash because I wasn’t sure he’d come. Even though he should still care enough to show up. We just broke up the other day. We’ve been together for almost a year, reconnected from high school when we dated for almost two years. I’m quite certain he was going to ask me to marry him on our vacation in two weeks to Napa. And I would have said yes, had I not realized—a bit late, I admit—that I want more than a man who puts his work and friends above his girlfriend/future wife.
Easton sips his coffee—I think to hide his frown.
Compelled to comfort him, I round the counter and give him a hug from behind. I bury my face in his long-sleeved shirt and inhale his masculine scent, my hands locked around his waist.
His entire body hardens like stone.
“It’s okay to show feelings, especially to me. I like that side of you. And I never judge you. I wouldn’t dare. You are who you are and are allowed to live life how you choose. You’re the most fun person I know, but you’re more than that. You’re important. A dear friend. And whatever this business venture is, I’m sure it’s brilliant, like you.”
He doesn’t relax, but he doesn’t move away.
