What Happens Between Friends (5 page)

“Naturally.” All of her carefree older sister’s decisions were spur-of-the-moment. “Did you know?” Char asked James.

He shook his head. “Not until an hour ago when she showed up in the driveway covered head-to-toe in mud with a dog in her front seat.”

Char laughed. “Oh, I have got to hear this story.”

She hugged Sadie again. Her sister was home and Char had taken those first, all-important steps in her plans to get James Montesano to fall in love with her.

Best. Night. Ever.

* * *

T
HE
NIGHT
WOULDN
’
T
end.

Not that it was a bad party, Sadie thought as she let cold dishwater out of the kitchen sink. She just wasn’t in the mood for the whole celebration thing and the act that went with it. She’d played her part, though. No sense disappointing anyone or, God forbid, have them asking her questions about what was wrong, what was going on with her. So she’d made the rounds, flitted from group to group, bringing laughter and making a good time even better.

She was, after all, the life of any party.

Just like her father.

She wondered if it had ever worn him out.

“Sadie,” Rose said as she came into the kitchen, her tone less than friendly. She set down the almost empty fruit-and-cheese platter on the island. “You don’t have to do that.”

Sadie wiped out the sink then turned the water on hot. “It’s no problem.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rose said, smiling tightly. “Go back to the party. Enjoy yourself.”

If Sadie didn’t know better, she’d think Rose was trying to get rid of her. “Really. It’s okay. I want to help.”

“I insist.”

And to go along with her insistence, Rose snatched the bottle of dish soap from Sadie’s hand.

Sadie raised her eyebrows. She could go back, she supposed, as Rose nudged her aside and squirted soap under the water. The party was winding down, but there were still quite a few guests milling about.

That was the problem. She didn’t want to entertain people. Didn’t want to be friendly. Didn’t want to try to charm everyone, entertain them all with more stories of her adventures. She wanted to stay here, right here. She wanted to hide.

And that was the ultimate sin for someone who was always, always the belle of any ball.

“I realize you don’t need any help, but do you...?” She cleared her throat. Tried again, this time adding a pleasant grin so Rose wouldn’t see her true intentions. “Would you mind if I stayed in here anyway?”

Rose stared at her as if she’d asked if she could strip naked and roll around in the leftover cake.

Not that that was a bad idea. It was really, really good cake.

“You want to stay in the kitchen,” Rose said, studying her much the same way James often did. Trying to look into people’s souls must be a family trait. “You do realize there’s a party going on outside of this room?”

“I guess I’m just tired.” Yeah, tired of explaining how her latest idea had tanked and that she had big plans once she was back on her feet again. Of pretending her life was going exactly how she wanted. Of feeling as if every person she’d spoken with had more going for them than she did—careers and spouses, kids and contentment.

She snorted softly. As if she’d want any of those things. Okay, maybe the career wouldn’t be too bad, but only if it was one that let her come and go as she pleased. One that didn’t tie her to a desk in some closed-off office in a town where the most exciting thing to happen was when the local high school football team made the state playoffs.

One where she had the freedom to be herself, to live life on her own terms instead of blindly following the expectations of others. Where she could breathe.

One that wasn’t Shady Grove.

“I could dry,” Sadie offered when Rose remained silent.

Not looking too thrilled with that prospect, she nonetheless handed Sadie a clean towel.

The window above the sink was open, bringing in a crisp breeze. Shutting her eyes, Sadie inhaled deeply and held it, held in the scents of wet grass and fresh, clean air. “I love how it smells after a summer rain. Like everything’s been wiped clean.”

Like anything was possible.

Rose made a noncommittal sound.

“I can’t believe how big Max has gotten,” Sadie said of Eddie’s son as she accepted a dish from Rose. “What is he now? Five?”

“Seven.”

“It seems like just yesterday he was a baby.”

“Yes, well, you’ve been gone a few years now. Things tend to change. Children grow. People get older.”

“I’m getting older, too,” Sadie sang, but her “Landslide” reference fell to the ground with a resounding splat. “Sorry. I can never resist a chance to do my Stevie Nicks impersonation.” Nothing. Not even the faintest hint of a smile, no glimmer of humor lit Rose’s hazel eyes. “Uh...James, he, uh...” Sadie set the plate on the counter, took the next clean one. “Mentioned you’re going back to school.”

“Yes.”

“That’s so great. Really great. What are you taking up?”

Rose sighed, as if dealing with Sadie was more than one person could handle. “Human services.”

“Wow, that’s—”

“Great,” Rose interrupted, rinsing another dish. “So you’ve said.”

Okay.
James was right. His mom really was stressed.

And grumpy, too.

Zoe padded into the room, crossed to Sadie and nudged her legs. Sadie slung the towel over her shoulder and kneeled to take the dog’s face in her hands. “Hey, there, beautiful. Did you have fun playing with your new boyfriend?”

Almost immediately after James had first introduced Zoe to Elvis, the two dogs had fallen in love with each other.

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well,” Sadie continued. “And I promise, while we’re at your house, I won’t let him eat out of your food bowl or sleep in your bed.”

Rose inhaled sharply. “Are you...are you staying with James?”

“It’s so much easier,” Sadie said, washing her hands. “I hate to impose on my mom and Will—they’re used to being empty nesters.” Not that her mother and stepfather would complain about having Sadie there. They would probably love it. But it reminded her too much of when she’d been young, of how her life had taken a sudden turn after her father’s death. Of how close she’d come to losing herself.

Like her mother had lost herself.

Sadie took a hold of the serving bowl Rose held out. “Plus, with Will’s allergies, there’s no way I could bring Elvis there. And there’s barely room for Lottie and her roommate in that cramped apartment, so I asked James to put me up for a little while.”

Rose looked as if she’d sucked a lemon then chased it with a shot of drain cleaner. And she still hadn’t let go of the bowl. “How long is a little while?”

Sadie frowned, considered yanking on the damn thing, but resisted. Barely. “A few weeks or so.”

Rose shut her eyes. “Lovely,” she murmured.

“Is that a problem?”

“Why would it be?” As if realizing she was in a subtle tug-of-war, Rose let go of the bowl. “Like you said, it’s only a few weeks. And then you’ll be off again.”

At least that thought seemed to cheer her up.

Sadie hummed “Landslide”—now that it was stuck in her head, resistance was futile—and stared blindly out the window. Luckily, the storm had dissipated almost as quickly as it had formed. After the last of the rain, the clouds had shifted, blowing away to find some other poor town to soak. Best of all, only three people had called her Cyclone Sadie.

One of them being her sister, so that didn’t even really count.

Frank and Rose’s house sat back from the road on top of a small knoll. Frank’s father, Leo—or Big Leo as he was known to family and friends—occupied the small cottage on the corner of the property. James’s only sister, Maddie, lived with her daughter across the street. Even Eddie lived on the street, though a block away, while Leo had an apartment two streets over.

Only James had separated himself from his family, choosing to build his house on the outskirts of town.

As if conjuring him out of thin air, Sadie heard the familiar deep tone of his laugh moments before he stepped into the soft glow of the lanterns spread across each tier of the deck. Smiling—she’d always loved the sound of his laugh—she opened her mouth, ready to call out to him only to have the sound die in her throat when she realized the reason he was so jolly. He was with someone. A woman. An attractive woman in a deep blue wrap dress that showcased her curvaceous body and killer legs. A dress that made Sadie feel decidedly underdressed in her floor-length, multicolored skirt and black tank top.

They stopped next to an SUV, one of the few vehicles that had circumvented the traffic jam in the driveway by parking in the yard near the back corner of the house. James said something that had the brunette smiling and swatting his arm, her hand lingering there longer than necessary.

“Eddie’s heading home,” Frank said as he came into the kitchen. In khakis and a green polo, he was still as trim and fit as when Sadie had first met him as a child, the only signs of age a few lines around his brown eyes and a liberal sprinkling of gray in his short dark hair. “He’s going to drop Dad off on his way.”

“Are Maddie and Bree still here?” Rose asked.

“They’re saying good-night to Gerry and Carl. It was nice of you to invite them.”

“They are almost family.”

“Almost.” He came up behind his wife and kissed the side of her neck. “You outdid yourself, Rosie. As usual.”

She tipped her head to the side so that it pressed against his. “Thank you. I think James enjoyed himself.”

“He seems to be enjoying himself now,” Sadie murmured, wondering at the bite to her tone, the tightness in her chest.

Rose and Frank both followed her gaze out the window. The brunette had her head close to James’s, said something as he typed on his phone.

Putting her number into his contact list.

Sadie cleared her throat. “I don’t recognize her. Is she a friend of Maddie’s?”

“That’s Anne Forbes. She works for a local painting contractor,” Frank said, picking up a clean towel and drying the next dish. Raising his bushy eyebrows, he nudged Rose with his elbow. “You must be pretty pleased with yourself.”

“You know I hate to brag,” Rose said. “But since you mention it, yes. Yes, I am.” She glanced at Sadie. “Very pleased.”

“Is this one of those family secrets?” Sadie asked, forcing her tone to lighten, her lips to curve.

“No secret. Rose here decided to take matters into her own hands and find our eldest a wife.”

Sadie’s scalp prickled. Her hands tightened on the towel, twisting the fabric until her fingers went numb. “A wife?”

“No one’s booked St. Theresa’s for a wedding mass yet,” Rose said drily. “I just thought he might be interested in meeting a lovely, intelligent woman.”

“As opposed to the ugly, stupid women he’s usually interested in meeting?” Frank asked.

“Well, he did go out with Melissa Alden,” Sadie said, glad her voice had returned to normal. “She was cute enough, but dumb as a rock. Then again, James was fourteen and, I believe, hypnotized by the sight of Melissa in her cheerleading outfit.”

“Many men have had their better sense stolen by short skirts.” Frank winked at Sadie. “How do you think Rose managed to nab me?”

“I’d take exception to that,” Rose said, “except it’s true. And it worked.”

Frank leaned down, whispered something in Rose’s ear that had her laughing.

Wanting to give them privacy, Sadie crossed to a different window, looked out as James opened the door to the SUV. Anne climbed into the driver’s seat, her dark, straight hair swinging above her shoulders. She really was lovely. Sadie had seen her earlier in the living room when she’d been chatting with Maddie and Big Leo. Sadie had envied the other woman’s red, open-toed shoes, the way her side-swept bangs fell perfectly.

Sadie lifted her hand to her own hair, tucked an errant curl back into the messy bun at the top of her head.

James shut the SUV’s door and Anne turned on the ignition. A moment later, she backed up then pulled forward. James watched as she drove alongside the driveway.

So, James had met someone. Sadie rolled her eyes. Obviously he’d met Anne, but they’d exchanged numbers. Had maybe even made plans to meet for drinks. Or dinner.

A date.

Good for him. Maybe it would work out and he and Anne would fall in love, get married, have a couple of little Montesanos, kids who had James’s easy grin, his love of schedules and his anal tendencies. There was no one more suited for marriage and family life than James. He deserved to get everything he wanted. Deserved to be happy.

Hadn’t Sadie always known he’d find someone? It might not be Anne, but eventually he’d meet a woman he could love and spend the rest of his life with. And when he found that woman, it would mean the end of Sadie’s relationship with James.

Oh, sure, they would always be friends, but things would change between them. How could they not? No longer would she be able to stay at his house when she returned to town. She’d have to stop calling him whenever she wanted, night or day, just because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice. Because she’d missed him.

No longer would she be first in his life. That spot would belong to his wife, his family, the way it was supposed to.

He wouldn’t need her at all. He’d have what he’d always wanted.

And she’d be left alone.

CHAPTER FOUR

J
AMES
SANK
ONTO
a lounge chair on the deck, opened his bottle of water and took a long drink. He wanted to get home. Though tomorrow—he checked his phone’s clock—though
today
was Sunday, he still had to work. He needed to finish that estimate for the Websters’ addition, catch up on some billing and put in a few hours working on the design for Mrs. Kline’s kitchen.

The door opened and Maddie, the youngest Montesano sibling and only girl, sauntered onto the deck, followed by her eleven-year-old daughter, Bree. Zoe, lying at James’s feet, rose and walked over to Bree.

“I thought you left ten minutes ago,” Maddie said to him.

“I’m waiting for Sadie.” It seemed as if he’d spent his entire life waiting for Sadie. “She wanted to double-check if Mom needed any more help cleaning up.”

He wanted to follow her back to his place in case there was more damage to the Jeep than they initially thought.

“God help her.” Maddie glanced through the door’s window, her white summer dress like a beacon in the dim light. “We’re heading out before Mom can give us something more to do.”

“We waited until Nonna went into the living room and then snuck out,” Bree whispered excitedly, her hand on Zoe’s head. “Poppa kept watch.”

James pulled her down beside him and put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re taking your lives in your hands doing that.”

“Desperate times, my friend,” Maddie said. “You know how she gets after a party.”

“Crazy,” Bree said solemnly.

He squeezed her. “That’s my girl.”

“When I told her I’d come back in the morning to run the vacuum, I thought her head was going to explode. And that I would have to clean that up, too.” Maddie shook her head. “I think this school thing really has her freaked out.”

“She’ll work through it.”

“I know. But it’s tough when she’s the one we can always trust to be practical and responsible. Well, other than you, that is.”

“You make practicality and responsibility sound like negative traits.”

“Did I?” she asked sweetly. “So sorry.”

She wasn’t. She was rarely sorry, even when she knew damn well she was to blame. And there wasn’t much sweet about her, either. Growing up with three older brothers had made her tough as nails. Her stubbornness, competiveness and bordering-on-obsessive need to prove she was equal to the men in her family in every way was due to the prickly, pugnacious personality she’d been born with.

Was it any wonder they all adored her?

Maddie tugged Bree to her feet. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get out of here before Nonna realizes we’ve escaped.” When James stood as well, Maddie hugged him. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

She stepped back and Bree moved into his arms. “Happy birthday, Uncle James.”

He held her close. She was a shorter, rounder version of her mother with her tanned skin, dark hair and heavy eyebrows. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, surprised to realize she now reached the middle of his chest.

When the hell did that happen?
How
did it happen?

It seemed like just yesterday she’d had pigtails and a wide, empty space in her smile where her two front teeth used to be. Those teeth had long ago come in, and she’d traded in the pigtails for a supershort pixie cut that accentuated the fullness of her face. But that would change soon, too. She’d get taller. Thin out. Grow up.

But she still smelled like a little girl, like clean sweat and baby powder. She still hugged him fiercely as if she never wanted to let go.

Love for her swamped him and he hoped she never did let go.

“Hey,” he said, leaning away so he could look down into her pretty face. “How about on Tuesday we go to that new bakery that opened up downtown?”

She stepped back, sent her mom a worried look. “Tuesday?”

“That’s the first day of school, right?” He pulled out his phone. He could have sworn he’d made a note that school started on the twenty-fourth.

“Yes,” she said slowly, sidling closer to Maddie, “that’s the first day, but—”

“Or we can stick with Rix’s Diner if that’s what you’d prefer. What?” he asked when he realized they were both staring at him, Bree rubbing her eyebrow, a sure sign she was upset or nervous.

Standing behind her daughter, Maddie placed both hands on Bree’s shoulders. “Actually, Neil is coming into town Monday night so he can be here for Bree’s first day of seventh grade.”

Neil Pettit, NHL star and original Hometown Boy Done Good, was also Bree’s father.

“Okay,” he said. “What does that—”

“He wants to take her out,” Maddie said softly. “He wants to take us both out. You know, start a new tradition.”

A new tradition.

Ever since Bree was a precocious, chubby three-year-old preschooler, James had taken her out to breakfast on the first day of school. Every year. It was
their
tradition, one he’d thought meant as much to her as it did to him.

“We could do something else, Uncle James,” Bree blurted. “The two of us. Like, start a new tradition.”

She looked so worried, he couldn’t even get angry she was throwing him a bone. Besides, she was just a kid. A sweet, quiet kid who’d had his heart from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her as a squalling, red-faced infant. Her entire life he’d done his best to be there for her, to fill the void Neil had left when he’d walked out on Maddie twelve years ago.

James had given her time and attention and, in the rare instances she needed it, discipline. For eleven years he’d been the biggest male influence in her life. Had been more of a father to her than her real dad.

Until two months ago when Neil had returned to Shady Grove and decided to be a part of his daughter’s life full-time—or as close to it as possible when Neil played for the Seattle Knights and spent half his time on the other side of the country. Though he still had over two years left before his contract with the Knights was up, he’d made his desire to be traded to an East Coast team sooner rather than later clear. It was only a matter of time, and getting the right offer from another team, before the Knights let him go. But even though Neil wasn’t with Bree on a day-to-day basis, the results were the same. He was Bree’s number-one guy now.

Leaving James to be demoted to favorite uncle.

Change happened. James accepted it, rolled with it.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Sure,” he said, trying to smile. To reassure her. “We can do something different. You pick.”

“Do I have to decide right now?”

She loved to weigh her options, to take her time and think things through before making any decision, whether it was what kind of ice cream to order or what she thought of the latest book she read. She sure as hell hadn’t gotten that from her mother.

“No hurry,” he said. “You just let me know whenever you’re ready.”

“Why don’t you wait for me in the truck?” Maddie asked, giving Bree a gentle nudge toward the steps. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good night,” Bree told him.

“’Night.”

As soon as Bree was out of earshot, Maddie turned to him. “James, I—”

“It’s fine, Maddie. I’m glad Bree is spending more time with her father.”

He almost meant it, too.

Sure, he wanted what was best for his niece, and Neil was showing that he could step up and be the kind of attentive, loving father Bree needed. But it changed things.

It changed how much time Bree spent with James, how involved he was in her life.

Not that he could complain about it or even let it get him angry or upset. A good guy, wasn’t that what Sadie had labeled him? She wasn’t the only one. Usually, he took it as a compliment; he liked being the kind of man people could turn to, someone they could trust. But there were times when doing the right thing was annoying as hell.

The good not only died young, but they also didn’t get so much as a day off from other people’s expectations. Not even on their freaking birthday.

“Thanks,” Maddie whispered. “Really. I know not everyone agrees with me and Neil getting back together, so your support means a lot to me.”

“I’ve always got your back,” he told her. “No matter what.”

It was what big brothers did. Even if he wasn’t sure
support
was the right word for how he felt about her reuniting with her high school boyfriend, the man who’d gotten her pregnant at sixteen and left to pursue a professional hockey career.

But, unlike Leo—who’d never liked Neil—James was keeping his opinions to himself. He would sit back and let events unfold, as he always did. And if things went bad, he would be there to pick up the pieces.

“I appreciate that,” Maddie said, giving him another hug.

He sat in the chair, Zoe by his side as they watched Maddie drive down the long, winding driveway and across the street to her own house.

The door opened, but he didn’t turn, didn’t need to see who was there. He easily recognized the sound of her step, the light, citrusy scent of her perfume.

“I hope you’re not still pouting,” Sadie said, sitting at the end of his chair.

“I don’t pout.”

“No? Well, your bottom lip said otherwise.” She took the water from him, sipped. Laid her hand on his knee. “It’s only a game, James.”

Swinging his legs around so they sat side by side, so her hand fell away from his leg, he grabbed his water. “I realize that.”

Though having her wipe the pool table with him was humiliating.

But he hadn’t pouted, damn it.

“It really shouldn’t bother you so much to lose to me. You know no one beats me at eight ball.”

“That’s why no one else will play you,” he reminded her. Not once they learned she’d spent a couple of months in Vegas making her living as a pool shark.

She sighed, as if the entire world was against poor, little ol’ her. “I know. It’s not fun. I’m just glad I can always count on you.”

That went without saying.

Sadie braced her weight on her arms behind her and tipped her face up. Eyes shut, she inhaled deeply, her full breasts rising and falling under her silky tank top.

His throat dried. His fingers twitched with the need to stroke the long line of her throat, to flick over the pulse beating at the base of her neck. Even when she was still, there was an energy about her, like an electrical current, one pulsating with life.

It called to him, had always called to him, pulling him in, daring him to touch, to feel that zing coursing through his blood, just once.

Tearing his gaze from her, he held his water between his knees, stared at the floor. But he could feel her next to him, the brush of her leg against his outer thigh, the shifting of the seat when she stretched, arching her back. Could hear her soft breathing, the low, melodic tune she hummed softly.

He’d sought her out tonight. He hadn’t wanted to, but it seemed no matter where he was, what he was doing, who he was talking to, he couldn’t stop from seeking out the sound of her laugh, the sight of her light brown hair. She was like a butterfly in her bright, colorful clothes, in how she fluttered from a conversation with his grandfather about how to make a foolproof marinara sauce to entertaining a group with tales about tending bar in the French Quarter to coaxing his seven-year-old nephew to dance.

She captivated him. He wondered if he would ever get free.

“You ready to go?” he asked, his voice gruff.

She sat up. “Sure.”

They walked down the driveway and rounded the front of the house.

“It’s good to be home,” Sadie said as they crossed toward the garage, her tone soft. Hesitant. “But the best part about being home is being with you. I just...I wanted you to know that,” she said quietly.

She sped up, leaving him to gape at her as she went into the garage for the stray dog.

He wasn’t sure what that had been about, wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

It’s good to be home.

He’d never heard her admit that before. Never would have believed that she could actually mean it. But even it was true, it was only temporary. Everything with her was temporary. Her jobs, her relationships, her goals and dreams—they changed based on her whims, on where she was living and who her friends were at any given moment. She may be glad to be in Shady Grove, but she wouldn’t stay.

Her leaving was the only reliable thing about her.

* * *

S
ADIE
PADDED
INTO
James’s kitchen, Elvis at her heels, the wood floor cool under her bare feet. She flipped on the pendent lights over the center island and crossed to the refrigerator.

Good Lord, even the inside of his fridge was immaculate and so organized it could be in an appliance commercial, with a place for everything and everything in its damned place. Well, she thought, helping herself to a Golden Delicious apple, at least she didn’t have to worry about catching some deadly disease by eating his food.

Unlike when she spent the night with Doug, her last boyfriend.

She was glad to be rid of him and all those penicillin samples he grew in his refrigerator.

She just wished she’d been the one to end things.

Washing the apple, she looked out the window at James’s side yard. When she’d first seen his house, she’d been surprised. Not by the workmanship; she’d expect nothing less than the best from him and Montesano Construction. No, what had shocked her was that instead of a traditional, two-story house with an attached garage—and the same boring floor plan as half the houses in town—he’d gone with a log home design.

Guess even lifelong friends could surprise each other every now and again.

And, yes, he’d explained how his house combined contemporary design with waterfront, coastal and cottage elements and blah, blah, blah. Biting into the apple, she leaned against the counter. All she knew was that it was gorgeous, with vaulted ceilings, dozens of tall, narrow windows and a stone fireplace. A house that reflected well James’s love for rich woods, deep colors and simple furnishings.

The first floor consisted of a master suite, a small bathroom and laundry room and a country-style kitchen that opened into a huge great room. Upstairs, a loft overlooked the great room with a bedroom on each side, along with another bathroom. In the kitchen, he’d chosen wide, rough-hewn pine beams for the ceiling, narrower boards for the floor. Whitewashed, glass-front cupboards and slate-gray counters.