Sadie opened her eyes as the morning light shone through the bedroom window. She stared up at the wood-beamed ceiling above her, then ran her hands across the soft flannel sheets. Her hand hit something—or, more accurately, someone.
Max Brody.
She closed her eyes and let it all wash over her: the night before, and the passion they had shared—on the couch and in this bed, well into the early hours of the morning. She had asked herself over and over if this was the right thing to do—but in the end, it had felt perfectly natural. And this morning, she felt happy, with no regrets.
She watched Max for a moment as he slept, then eased out of bed, sliding on a pair of his slippers and a robe.
As she headed to the kitchen to make coffee, she saw her phone, still turned off. She picked it up and looked down at it. Her finger hovered over the power button.
She could handle this, right? Turning her phone on and seeing the messages there? Now that she and Max were so close—in every way—theycould handle this together, couldn’t they? She turned the phone on. It took a moment, but soon the screen came to life—and, as Sadie had expected, began to fill withunanswered texts. Some of them were from Amalia, but most of them were from Cruz.
Hey, girl, we’re just doing some holiday cleaning at the studio and your master tapes are here. Should they go in the garbage, or are you ever coming back?
Just kidding! I’d never throw them away, of course. ;-) But I’m getting a little worried. You okay? Get eaten by a Grizzly? Send an update on Operation Bring Brody Home ASAP, plz.
Sadie sighed and put her phone down. The coffee had finished brewing. She filled two mugs and went into the bedroom. Max’s face was so peaceful. She almost hated to wake him—but they needed to talk. About the future that waited in Nashville—and their obligations. It was strange, though. It all felt like the last thing she wanted to deal with now.
Maybe she could delay reality, just a little while longer? She put the coffees on the end table and dropped the robe, climbing back into bed beside Max and tucking her body against his. Max didn’t even open his eyes, just sighed and moved against her, too, kissing her softly at first and then with more urgency until they were twisted and tangled in the sheets.
“You sure do know the right way to wake a man up, Sadie,” Max said to her later, with a smile.
“There’s coffee,” Sadie said, leaning up on one elbow. “But I think it’s gone cold...”
Just then, Patsy leapt on the bed and wriggled her way between them. She stood staring at them, her little tail waggingas if to say,Okay, I’ve left you two lovebirds alone long enough, now where is my breakfast?Sadie laughed and scratched Patsy’s adorable ears, marveling at how at home she felt here. How, in this moment, she, Max, and Patsy felt like a little family.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” Max said, climbing out of bed and pulling on some boxers. They were emblazoned with little red candy canes.
Sadie leaned against the pillow and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of Max in the kitchen filling Patsy’s dish with her special freeze-dried kibble.
“Your phone is lighting up like a Christmas tree,” Max said, startling Sadie as he walked back into the bedroom and tossed her phone on the bed.
Sadie picked it up and looked down. Her heart sank and she felt a flash of guilt. There were even more messages from Cruz now, coming in fast and furious:
I’ve been thinking about it and you were right that Max’s only true talent is the one he comes by genetically. He’s Holden Brody’s son and that means you still need him, but I swear once you’re done with him you’ll be a star in your own right. I’ll make it happen for you. You have my word, and it’s obviously worth a lot more than the prince of Nashville.
Sadie winced. She remembered that conversation with Cruz on a particularly bad day, when her frustration over Max refusing to respond to her calls or texts had reached its peak. She had spoken out of anger; she hadn’t really meant those things,and had tried to explain that to Cruz afterward. But Cruz was the kind of person with a selective memory. The texts were incriminating. It was possible he wanted them to be.
Bing.
Send me an update!!
Sadie looked up from the screen and met Max’s eyes, but he looked away from her—and she knew.
“Max, I...”
“No, no, don’t bother apologizing. Those are your personal texts; I shouldn’t have looked.”
“You know what Cruz is like,” she began. “But still, it’s no excuse. I—”
“This isn’t necessary,” he interrupted. And there was no mistaking it—his tone was now icy as a glacier. She shivered and pulled the sheet up, covering herself.
“We should talk about this,” she said, but he just shrugged and turned away.
“What’s there to talk about? Besides, it’s obvious you and Cruz have been doing enough talking.”
“Please, Max. Just hear me out. I came out here to drag your ass back to Nashville, yes. I was upset with you—and I know you were upset with me, too. We left things on a bad note. But I found something very different here than I expected to. This week, you and I have—”
“I said it isn’t necessary.” Max’s tone was so abrupt she felt as if she’d woken from a dream. “You don’t need to make a big production out of this, Sadie.”
