Page 66 of Warming His Bed

“I guess so?” I’d been too wrapped up in my own self-righteous indignation to notice any clues she might not be okay. “Is there a reason she wouldn’t be?”

The woman muffled a small sob before choking out her answer. “It’s not… It’s not my place.” She let out a sad laugh. “I’m practically her mother-in-law, but I’m not technically family, and I don’t even know you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

I was too numb to be offended. Mother-in-law?

A million different crazy scenarios played out in my mind. Was she jilted at the altar? Did she do the jilting? Was spending a few weeks in a small town sowing her oats with one of the locals, some low-rent alternative to a Vegas bachelorette weekend? Going it alone so no one from her real life would know what she was up to?

She didn’t strike me as a cheater, but what the hell did I know?

There was no way I was about to ask this woman to deny my suspicions. I couldn’t handle another direct blow after the sucker punch Sadie had unwittingly delivered.

“I’ll tell her you called.” I hung up the phone before she could tell me anything else I didn’t want to hear. I dragged in a shaky breath as my throat closed in on itself.

Before I could spiral too far out of control, my phone vibrated.

Brody: WTF did you do?

Brody: Sadie’s at the Tipsy Elk drinking by herself and throwing off some major “don’t talk to me” vibes.

The next message was a picture of Sadie hunched over a drink at the bar, throwing Brody some strong side-eye. Paul was in the background, leaning against a wall behind the bar with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in her direction. A prickle of nausea hit me along with something that was not quite déjà vu at seeing her drinking away her sorrows at the Tipsy Elk, tonight of all nights.

I needed to make sure she got home safe.

Brody: Surprisingly, she was not interested in discussing what a dumbass you are.

I was up and had my keys in my hand, saying a small prayer of thanks I hadn’t touched the scotch, before I even finished scrolling through his texts. Stepping out onto the porch, I kept reading.

Brody: She forgot her phone. Don’t worry, I called her an Uber.

A car pulled up the street and stopped in front of the house as I closed the front door. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and shook my head.

Sadie’s timing. I wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or some kind of giant cosmic joke at my expense.

The back passenger door of the tiny gray Honda shot open, and she burst out of the car. She made an abrupt stop, tipped over to one side, then grabbed the open door for balance. After taking a moment to steady herself, she shut the door and gave the driver a little wave, then turned to head up the walkway with slow, focused movements.

She made it past the brick pillars at the end of my front walk before she stopped, bent over the hedge, and emptied her stomach.

I shot Brody a quick message and let him know she made it home. As much as my instincts were screaming that I should rush over and rub her back or hold her hair or some shit like that, I wasn’t confident she wouldn’t kick me in the nuts if I got too close.

Drunk Sadie was uncharted territory.

I gave Clyde, the semiretired guy driving the Honda, a two-fingered salute to let him know I’d make sure she made it into the house and ambled down the front steps as he pulled away.

“Hey there, champ. How ya feeling?” I shot for jovial, but it fell a bit flat.

She stood up, turned to face me, and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Oh, are we back to joking around now? That’s great.”

Despite the slight slur to her words, the sarcasm came through loud and clear.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“No thanks.” A pained look crossed her face as she stared past me and up at the front door. Was she replaying our fight from this morning? “I could use a little more fresh air. Can we sit outside for a while and talk?”

Talk.

That sounded like the kiss of death. I was relieved she was safe, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit around talking about my feelings. What the hell was I even supposed to say that wouldn’t have her turning her back and walking away?

Or maybe that was what the talk was about. Maybe I’d already dug my own grave this morning with the way I forced her out.

“Sure. Let’s sit out back.”

Feeling like I was about to face the firing squad, I led her around the back of the house.

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