Page 58 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

EIGHTEEN

I’m exhausted from little sleep but also pumped full of optimism. I’m excited to tell Sadie about Duke and see Max outside of the hikes, something we’ll hopefully do more often after I confess who I am Monday. I probably should’ve called, told Sadie I’m stopping by, but it was early and I was on the buzzed side of eager.

So here I am, driving down her street, checking the house numbers, my heart knocking a nervous beat. When I spot number thirty-seven—a blue Victorian home with white trim—on this quiet residential street, I’m seriously moved.

Sadie did this. Earned a living on her own. Fostered a beautiful relationship with her grandmother and used her inheritance to build this picture-perfect life.

Except.

Is that . . . ?

Sadie didn’t mention that Joseph was still in town, but that’s definitely his muddy truck parked on the street. Or maybe he came back so they could plan for that video meeting with Sarah Lim next week.

I park across from his truck and squeeze my steering wheel, practically crushing it. For coworkers who run an online business, he demands an awful lot of face time. I know seeing art in person is different than looking at images online, but is it really necessary?

He comes out of the front door, and I duck. He has an overnight bag in hand, as well as a large tube slung over his shoulder, likely filled with rolled artwork. The door closes before I glimpse Sadie, and I sink lower. Except screw that. I have no reason to hide. There’s no one else on the street. If Joseph has his sights set on Sadie, it’s time he learns he has competition.

I hop out of my ozone-depleting Camaro and slam the door. He glances at me but doesn’t seem to recognize me from when he picked Sadie up at the hike. Must be the missing yellow gym-bro shirt. I opted for a threadbare gray V-neck tee today. It shows off my harder lines without suctioning to my chest. While I’m not as handsome as this guy, with his strong cheekbones and model lips, I’m taller and thicker and am happy to flex my arms as I lift my sunglasses on top of my head.

I nod to him. “You work with Sadie, right?”

He closes his trunk and studies me. “You’re the witness protection ex, right?”

Okay, then. If Sadie gave him that background, the pair must be close. “I am.” I cross my arms, giving him a prominent view of my biceps. “I thought you left.”

“I did. Then I came back. There’s been some ongoing work, and I hate online chats. Plus it’s always great to see Sadie and Max. You have a fantastic kid.”

Now I have to add nice to Joseph’s list of attributes. “I do, thanks to Sadie.”

He leans on his car and crosses his arms too. Unlike me, his stance doesn’t read like Big Man Posturing. More like he’s settling in for a friendly catch-up chat. “She’s an amazing woman. Smart and kind. Incredibly creative. Considering what she’s been through, losing you the way she did, it’s a wonder she’s built such a strong life for her and Max.”

Maybe not so friendly. “I know exactly how incredible she is and how rough my disappearance was on her.”

He taps his fingers on his elbow and flexes his jaw. “I’m sure you do, but sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in reconnection. Don’t forget what she gave up when you left. How long it took her to find her feet and fight for herself.”

I stand taller, not liking his insinuation or the undercurrent I’m sensing. “You want Sadie.” No point beating around the GQ Joseph block.

“You misunderstand.” He kicks off the car and gives my arm a friendly-ish slap. “I want what’s best for Sadie. Make sure you put her first.”

His vagueness doesn’t sit well. He also didn’t deny his feelings. He probably thinks he’s what’s best for Sadie. Not as far as I’m concerned. E returned that ring for a reason. My brother sees what I do: that Sadie and I are meant to be. We have an adorable son together and undeniable history. I’m not going down without a fight.

Joseph gets in his truck and drives away. I scrub my hand over my head and get ready to do what I came here to do. Tell Sadie exactly what kind of put-her-first man I plan to be.

A doorbell ring later, Sadie opens the door. “Did you—oh, Des.” She startles and presses her hand to her chest. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

I can’t tell if that was a disappointed oh, Des or a genuinely surprised oh, Des, and I hate that I’m back to feeling unsure around her. Insecure. Goddamn GQ Joseph.

“Sorry to show up unannounced. Just wanted to talk and thought it was better to do it in person.” She moves back, inviting me in. Once inside, I look past her, into the sunlit house, taking in the soft yellow paint brightening the hallway. “Max here?”

“He’s outside sketching. Did you want to talk to him?”

“I’d love to see him for a bit, but I also wanted to see you.” Checking that Max isn’t in visual distance, I take her hand, run my thumb over the bumps of her knuckles. “How has Max been at home lately?”

“So much better,” she says, her voice softening. “Jasmine invited him over again this afternoon, and he’s been way more upbeat.”

“Good.” I nod a bunch, suddenly more nervous about Monday’s big talk, unsure why. “That’s really good.”

She stares at our linked hands a moment and grazes the tips of her fingers over my palm. Something hot and fluttery tugs under my navel. I stretch my hand wide, let her explore the edges of my fingers, the creases between my joints. Unable to resist, I explore her hand too—the velvet softness of her skin, the pads of her fingers and crisscrossed lines of her palm.