What Happens Between Friends (11 page)

And though she’d asked him to help her with that, she was perfectly capable of doing so on her own.

He picked up a metal toolbox. “Good luck.”

“Wait,” she cried as he headed toward the door.

He turned, sighed as if she was just too much to deal with when he was the one making this so difficult. Raised his eyebrows in question.

“Jamie, I...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“So you said.”

“I said it, but obviously you don’t believe it.”

His expression softened, making him look like her old friend, the person she could always go to, the one person who’d always fully accepted her. “I know you mean it, Sadie. That’s not what this is about.”

“What is it then? Punishment?”

“No,” he said, sounding appalled. “You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did, but what am I supposed to think when you’re standing there, obviously still mad at me?”

“I’m not.” The way he said it made it seem as if he was surprised by that fact. “I’m not.”

Relief and hope bloomed inside of her. “So you forgive me? We can forget the other night, the other morning, ever happened and go back to how we were before?”

They could. She knew they could. Hadn’t she known he’d never stay angry with her for long, that they’d be able to work things out?

“I forgive you,” he said slowly. “I have to—not for you, for me. But, no, we can’t go back to how we were.”

His voice was incredibly gentle, and she even detected a hint of regret there. But not enough to overcome the resolve in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said, unsure of which emotion to focus on, which was the right thing to feel. Sadness, yes, but also frustration. Anger. “If you forgive me, then why does anything have to change between us?”

“I forgive you because we have a history, a past that means a lot to me. Because, no matter what, no matter how much I may not want to, I still care about you. I’ll always care about you.” He lowered his voice, stepped closer and her heart picked up speed. “But I can’t be your friend anymore, Sadie. I can’t be your friend because I’m in love with you.”

“Do you have to keep saying that? God! You are not in love with me,” she said, her voice rising despite realizing at any second someone could come into the room. “You’re confused. If you’d just give it some time—”

“I know my own heart,” he said, not sounding angry, just as if he was stating a simple fact. “I’ve been in love with you for most of my life, and it’s not going away. It may never go away, but that doesn’t mean I have to torture myself by being your friend. It’s not enough for me. Not anymore. And it’s not fair of you to ask me to pretend it is.”

Her blood went cold. He was right. He was absolutely right. But doing the right thing for him meant she’d lose him. “I don’t know if I can let you go,” she whispered.

“You have to. You don’t have a choice. You’re going to have to find someone else to take care of your problems, to hold your hand when your life turns upside down, because I can’t do it. Not anymore.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“A
LL
I’
M
SAYING
is that most men don’t have two beautiful women bringing them cookies and cupcakes.” Sitting on James’s deck railing, Leo grinned, bit into a cupcake. “I mean, I do. Women go crazy over us firefighters. But mere mortals like you?” He shook his head. “Not normal.”

“Don’t you have a fire truck to wash?” James asked.

“Nah. We let the rookies wash ’em. Makes them feel useful.”

James sighed and tipped back on the rear two legs of his chair, sipped his beer. He’d told Eddie he was grilling steaks if he and Max wanted to come out to his house, but when they’d arrived, they’d had Leo in tow.

Which usually wouldn’t be a problem except he hadn’t stopped ragging on James about Sadie and Charlotte.

Out in the yard, Max threw the tennis ball over and over again for Zoe. Neither one of them ever seemed to tire of the game.

“You’re in denial,” Leo said, polishing off the cupcake and reaching for another one. “He’s in denial,” he said to Eddie, who came out through the glass door from the kitchen.

Eddie took three cookies, settled into the seat next to James. “About what?”

“This idiot,” James said before Leo could finish chewing and open his big mouth again, “thinks Charlotte Ellison has some grand designs on me, that her bringing those cookies you’re eating was a scheme to...” He looked at Leo.

Leo swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing. “Lure you into her bed. Though why she’d need cookies is beyond me. She’s a goddess, and I’ve heard redheads are real firecrackers in the sack.”

“Shut it,” James and Eddie said at the same time.

“What? Like you two haven’t noticed how sexy she is.”

“She’s too young for you,” James said.

“Age is just a number, my friend.”

“For you,” Eddie said, “it’s a guideline. How old was that brunette you were with a few months ago?”

“Twenty-two is legal in every state in this great country of ours.”

“Just make sure Charlotte isn’t anywhere in your future,” James said. “She’s Sadie’s sister and therefore off-limits. You hear me?”

“I can’t make any promises. If she starts coming by the fire station bearing cookies, I can’t be held responsible for what may develop between us.”

“Don’t pound on him in front of Max,” Eddie said, calmly sipping his beer as James started getting out of his seat to do just that. “I don’t want him getting into any fights during recess this year. And convincing him it’s better to use his words instead of his fists is hard enough without explaining how it’s okay for you to do it and not him.”

James sat back reluctantly. He could always beat on his smug brother later.

“Is Sadie coming?” Eddie asked. “I thought she’d be here.”

“Yeah,” Leo added. “She’s the only reason I agreed to this dinner invitation—”

“You weren’t invited.” But he could sniff out a free meal from a mile away. “She’s staying with her mother,” James continued.

Eddie frowned. “I thought she and her mother didn’t get along.”

“They get along fine.”

But it was easier for them if they weren’t together so much. Irene had no problem letting Sadie know she wished her daughter would make different choices with her life, find a place to settle down. And Sadie was too eager to prove she was some free spirit, going wherever the wind took her. She took great pride in taking after her father, who’d died when she was nine.

From what Sadie said about the guy, he was as close to perfect as a parent could get, though James wasn’t sure Irene would agree. Not when Sadie said they moved several times a year so that her old man could chase his dreams.

Sounded familiar.

“How come she’s not staying here?” Leo asked.

“Because she’s staying at her mother’s,” James growled.

He stared out at his yard. The sun was setting, crickets were chirping. Zoe barked and jumped and Max laughed, a deep, rolling belly laugh that had James’s lips curving. That was what he wanted. A couple of kids running around his yard, racing through his house. A wife to share it with.

What the hell was wrong with that?

“I slept with her,” he said.

He could feel both of his brothers’ shocked stares.

“Holy shit,” Leo breathed, sliding to his feet. “You slept with Sadie’s mother?”

“Okay,” Eddie said with a decisive head nod. “I’ll keep Max’s attention occupied while you beat the shit out of dumb ass here.”

“Not her mother.” James ground out the words. “Sadie. I slept with Sadie.”

The relief on Leo’s face would have been comical had they been discussing something else. “That does make more sense. Details. And don’t go too fast. Eddie doesn’t have the ability to picture a story in his head the way I do.”

Eddie and James exchanged a look. “Hey, Max,” Eddie called as he stood. “Look, it’s a hawk.”

He pointed in the air and when his son turned his back to check it out, Eddie slapped Leo upside the head.

“Where?” Max asked, head still tilted up. “I don’t see it, Dad.”

“Huh,” Eddie said while Leo grumbled about cheap shots and how his brother should sleep with one eye open because paybacks were a bitch. “Must’ve flown off.”

James slouched in his seat, wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Leo nudged James’s knee with his beer bottle. “Don’t look so glum, chum. Sleeping with a knockout like Sadie is cause for celebration. And after all these years of you jonesing for her—”

“What?” James sat up so fast, he spilled his beer. “What?”

“It’s not a secret, is it? Hell, you’ve had a thing for her since...forever. I say, about time you did something about it instead of mooning over her.”

James stood, fisted his hands, the back of his neck heating up. “What am I, wearing a goddamn sign?”

“Might as well have been,” Leo said cheerfully.

“I’m going to have to kill him,” James told Eddie. “So if you don’t want your son to witness a murder and you be charged as an accomplice, I suggest you get going now.”

Eddie slapped James’s shoulder. “I’ve got this. Max,” he called again.

“I’m not looking for any more hawks, Dad,” Max said, shaking his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. “You just want to hit Uncle Leo again.”

“Kid is too damn observant,” Eddie muttered.

“I heard that,” Max yelled, throwing the ball for Zoe.

“Remember what we talked about on the way out here? That thing with the thing?”

“The thing with the thing?” James repeated.

Eddie ignored him.

“Really?” Max asked, his face lit up. He raced over, his left sneaker untied, his T-shirt sporting both steak sauce and ketchup stains, his knees scabbed over. “I’m allowed and I won’t get into trouble?” he asked in a whisper, glancing at Leo.

Eddie laid his hand on his son’s head. “You’d be doing the world a favor.”

Max laughed. Looked at Leo again. Laughed louder. “Okay!”

He ran off, legs and arms pumping, Zoe giving chase.

“What’s going on?” Leo asked suspiciously.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Eddie assured him.

Leo turned to see what Max was up to and Eddie caught James’s eye, inclined his head toward the door. James followed him inside and was shutting the door when Leo turned. Scowled. “Hey, what—”

The rest of his words were drowned out. Literally. Max, wielding James’s hose, sprayed his uncle right in the face. “Good aim,” James said, locking the door as Leo reached for the handle.

“He goes for the weak spot and he’s relentless,” Eddie said as his son kept up a steady stream of water against Leo’s face. Leo, trying to block the spray with his arms, swore viciously while Zoe raced around him, getting into the spray.

Water hit the glass directly in front of James’s face, cascaded down. “Now I’m going to have a wet, stinky dog.”

“Life’s a bitch that way. You get the bedroom, I’ll get the front door.”

By the time James made sure there was no way Leo could get into his house and walked into the kitchen, Leo was chasing Max around the yard.

“How long until he catches him?” James asked, joining Eddie at the window.

“Not long. Max is fast, but he’s better in a sprint. Not enough endurance for the long race. Plus, he’s cocky.”

The word was no sooner out of Eddie’s mouth when Max whirled around and shot Leo right in the crotch, soaking his khaki cargo shorts.

Still squirting, Max laughed like a hyena. Leo feinted left then lunged right. Even in the house, they winced at the volume and pitch of Max’s squeal when Leo wrestled the hose from him. Before Max could escape, Leo grabbed the back of his shorts, tossed him over his shoulder in a firefighter’s hold and doused him.

“That should keep them both busy for a while,” Eddie said, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge. He tossed one to James, who caught it one-handed. “You okay?”

“Pissed at myself,” he admitted, knowing he’d never be able to tell anyone else but Eddie that. “I told her I loved her and she shot me down. Hard. Not the first woman to do so, but this...this was different. She’s different.”

“You took a chance. They don’t always work out the way we want. If they did, I’d still be married and Max would have a mother in his life. Instead he’s stuck with us and dealing with the fact that his mom decided she wasn’t cut out for motherhood.”

Eddie’s short-lived marriage had soured him toward women and marriage in general.

“You ever regret it?” James asked. “The marriage?”

“I got Max out of it,” Eddie said simply. “So, it didn’t work out with Sadie,” he continued in his take-no-prisoners way. “What did you think she was going to do? Completely change who she is, what she wants out of life because you told her you love her?”

“I thought she’d at least consider the possibility of being with me.”

“But you know her. You’ve known her practically your entire life. People don’t change. You’re looking for something in a relationship, and you’re not going to get it with Sadie. Why not look elsewhere? The only way to get what you want out of life is to grab it.”

“You’re right,” James said. Looked like he was about to take another chance, several, actually. Not with Sadie. He wasn’t going to make a fool over himself over her again. Not over any woman.

But it was past time he shook things up.

* * *

T
HURSDAY
WAS
SPAGHETTI
night.

Every. Thursday.

Sadie set a stack of dirty dinner plates on the counter. “Don’t you ever want to do something different?” she asked Charlotte, who was loading the dishwasher.

“You want to wash and I’ll dry?”

“No, not that. Although, yeah, I would rather wash than dry. Washing dishes has a point, but drying them? Why not just let them sit in the drainer? They’ll dry overnight.”

“It only takes a few minutes to dry them,” Irene said, her supersharp hearing in tip-top shape as she came into the kitchen carrying the leftover sauce and meatballs. “And I’d rather they be put away and the entire kitchen clean then wake up knowing I have to finish cleaning the kitchen every morning.”

“I’m not saying leave dirty dishes in the sink until the next day.” Although Sadie had done that plenty of times in her life. It was easier to wash them if you let them soak for a day. Or two. “Just a few items that need to be hand washed.”

Irene sent her an unreadable look. “I prefer my kitchen to be spotless after dinner.”

She preferred every room to be spotless all the time. Her house, while not exactly ostentatious, didn’t exactly shy away from showing how much wealth they had. Set at the end of a cul-de-sac, the two-story Cape Cod had four bedrooms, four baths and a gourmet kitchen complete with two ovens and a six-burner range.

Her mother’s knack with color and decorating made the space feel warm and inviting instead of showy. But every time Sadie was there, she was reminded of how close she’d come to turning into a pampered princess who was more concerned about making other people happy by living up to their standards than living her own life.

And wouldn’t her father have hated that?

He would have hated everything about this house and Shady Grove. Would have hated the life Irene had chosen after he’d died.

“What did you think of the meatballs?” Irene asked as she put the Parmesan cheese in the stainless-steel fridge. “I used a new recipe.”

“They were good,” Charlotte said. She nudged Sadie with an elbow.

Sadie opened her mouth to say they were fine, that they tasted like the same meatballs Irene made every Thursday, but what came out was, “Don’t you get tired of eating the same things week after week?”

“Really?” Charlotte asked under her breath. “This is something you feel the need to bring up?”

“What do you mean?” Irene asked Sadie with a confused frown.

“It’s just so...boring. Meat loaf or steaks or roast beef on Mondays. Chicken on Tuesdays. Pork on Wednesdays. Thursday night is spaghetti, Friday you go out to Horseshoe Manor with the Longs and Kelleys. I bet you order the broiled tilapia every week, too.”

How could her mother stand living that way? Where was the spontaneity? The fun and excitement. Life was too short and too precious to be so mundane and scheduled.

Not that Sadie had ever been able to convince Irene of that. She was too stubborn to listen to reason, was always so completely certain she was right, that her way was the one and only way to do something.

“I like knowing what I’m going to be cooking each day,” Irene said slowly, as if Sadie was the one who had the issue here. “And for your information, we ate at the Wooden Nickel and I had the salmon.”

For some reason, that tickled Sadie. Her lips quirked. “I stand corrected.”

Irene ran a hand down the side of her already perfectly smooth hair. “I should hope so.” But she didn’t sound amused or even angry. Worse, much worse, she sounded hurt. “I’ll just bring in the rest of the dishes.”

“Do you have to antagonize her?” Charlotte asked as soon as they were alone. “It’s like you purposely pick fights just to tick her off.”

“All I did was ask a simple question.”

“You asked a question guaranteed to get a rise out of her.”