Hard to Handle

Chapter 8

Aiden laid the bat over his right shoulder, muscles coiling as he trained his eyes on the pitcher. The machine released a baseball and he swung, smacking the ball with a satisfied crack! It shot into the back of the net covering the cage.

“Nice,” Shane said from behind him.

“I have mad skills,” Aiden said, prepping for the next pitch.

“So, you’re what, dating Sadie now?” Shane asked as another ball shot out of the automated pitcher.

Crack! Not as fast, but still good.

Aiden hadn’t meant to bring up the kiss after the bonfire, but since it’d been the only thing he could think about, he ended up blurting it out.

“I don’t know,” Aiden said, flexing his hands around the bat as he readied for the pitch. “Would you consider that a date?”

“The making-out part sort of counts.”

Aiden swung, hitting the ball on the bottom of the bat. It hit the dirt with an unimpressive thud. He frowned at the ball, then at his smartass cousin. “Okay. Well, I guess we’re sort of dating.”

Aiden lifted the bat again.

“Do you love her?”

Whiff! Swing and a miss. The automated pitcher whined to a halt, signifying the final ball.

“That was going to be a home run,” Aiden said, casting Shane an agitated glare.

Shane drank the remainder of his orange Gatorade rather than comment.

Aiden stepped out of the cage, tugging the glove off his fingers. “What do you know, anyway?”

Shane waggled the hand his wedding band rested on.

Aiden rolled his eyes.

A kid, probably thirteen or fourteen, stepped up to the cage entrance. “You guys done yet?” he asked, impatience outlining his every word.

“Yeah, kid, have at it,” Aiden answered. He and Shane left the cages and walked across the park to a food stand. They took a seat at an empty picnic table and wolfed down hot dogs, washing them down with semicold beer.

“So, do you?” Shane asked, swallowing his next bite and lifting his eyebrows. “Love her?”

Aiden stopped chewing.

You do. Admit it.

“I don’t think I ever stopped,” Aiden heard himself say. He waited for Shane to lecture him for being stupid, or laugh for the same reason. Instead, he nodded.

“Crickitt was right.” He swiped his napkin over his mouth, balled it up, and dropped it onto his plate. “How is she always right?” he marveled, looking a little peeved.

Aiden would have chuckled at the sight of Shane besotted over a woman, but the fact that Shane and Crickitt obviously discussed his love life when he wasn’t around curbed the urge. “What do you mean? Did Sadie say something?”

Aiden had today off work, which had given him the morning to himself to replay the feel of her warm body against his, to recall the heat from her tongue tangled with his. And that moan. The needy moan coming from the back of her throat that nearly rendered him her indentured servant. It’d taken all he had to keep his cool, to let her walk away. To not follow her home—and follow her in.

Shane lifted his plastic cup and chuffed. “Like Crickitt would tell me what those two talk about? She knows it would get right back to you.”

Aiden’s frown deepened. That wasn’t very comforting.

“But no, I don’t think she and Sadie have spoken or seen each other since last week.”

Aiden lifted his own cup and took a drink, but the alcohol was doing little to help him relax. His cell phone rang, and he pressed a button. “Yeah.”

Axle’s voice boomed from the other end. “I need you to come in today.”

Aiden noted he didn’t ask. Wasn’t like Aiden had plans anyway. And Shane was on borrowed time, heading home within the hour to report for some unnamed husbandly duty. Aiden suppressed a smile when he thought back to Shane telling him he was looking forward to getting home to Crickitt. His loyalty didn’t surprise Aiden, but that his self-proclaimed bachelor cousin was pretty darn good at marriage kind of did.

“I can be there in an hour,” Aiden told Axle.

“Good.” Axle ended the call without a good-bye.

“What’s up?” Shane asked.

“Work.”

“Well, good,” Shane said, polishing off his beer. “You could use the distraction.” Shane gave him a knowing grin.

The smartass.

* * *

Sadie stood in front of her full-length mirror, shoulders slumping as she evaluated her outfit. “How the hell am I supposed to dress for this thing?” She focused on the reflection of Crickitt, who perched on Sadie’s bed in the background.

She shrugged. “I liked the black one you tried on first.”

Sadie yanked the floral patterned dress over her head—far too festive for Celeste’s country club birthday brunch—and tossed it onto the floor. If she dared wear anything other than blend-in-with-the-woodwork beige, Celeste would feel upstaged.

Snatching the black dress off the bed, Sadie slipped it over her head and tied the belt at the middle. It was low-cut and short, showcasing her large breasts and an ample amount of thigh. “I look slutty.”

“You look beautiful.”

Sadie turned from the mirror.

“And why not show Trey what he’s missing?” Crickitt suggested. God, she looked happy. Like sunshine bursting from the clouds. Sadie was happy for her…and a smidge envious. Which was an awful, awful thing to think.

“Trey doesn’t even see me when Celeste is around.” Not that she wanted him to. Sadie was over him with a capital O-V-E-R. But her best friend knew her well, and because it stung to be discarded in favor of someone else, Sadie did kinda want to rub in the fact that she still had it. Just a little.

She strode to the bed, where jewelry was spread across her comforter. “Which one?”

Crickitt handed her a chunky, clear beaded necklace and bracelet. “These.”

Sadie clasped the lobster-claw enclosure at the back of her neck and slid the bracelet onto her wrist. “When does the contractor come?”

“Two.”

“When can we swim in it?”

Crickitt twisted her lips. “He’s just there to do measurements. Then they have to enclose the room, dig a hole, fill it with water…probably not until late fall.”

“You poor dear. Can’t you throw another million at him and demand to have your indoor, heated pool by morning?”

Crickitt laughed, pushing herself off Sadie’s bed. “I should try. Grease the wheels a bit.”

Sadie faced the mirror again, swiped clear gloss over her lips, and smoothed her sleek ponytail for the umpteenth time. “There,” she said, turning to Crickitt. “Do I look put together? Like nothing either of them say or do could break through my CoverGirl foundation?”

“You’ll be great.” Crickitt gave her a one-armed hug and gathered her purse. “I’m off to bribe a contractor,” she called as she headed down the stairs.

With Crickitt gone, Sadie’s smile faded. If Sadie hadn’t answered her mother’s jolting early morning phone call, maybe she could’ve avoided this entire scenario today.

She could have slept in and continued the delicious dream she’d had about Aiden. One where he did all the things she wished he would have last night. Right there in Axle’s store. On the countertop. Against the display stands.

She focused on her reflection, on the rogue glint in her eye, and blinked. There was the saucy, confident person she knew and loved. Funny how her mother, with a phone call, with one pointed barb, had managed to snuff out Sadie’s self-assuredness. She sneered as her mother’s words drifted back to mind.

Darling, do try and behave yourself where Trey is concerned.

Behave herself? Sadie always behaved herself where Trey was concerned. She was surprised she didn’t resemble a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day float after all the pride she’d had to swallow. She had friends who wrote off siblings for smaller crimes than fiancé stealing. Not that anyone in her bloodline gave her credit for taking the high road.

Sadie grabbed her purse and keys. She’d better get going if she hoped to find Celeste’s gift (one-hundred-dollar limit so graciously set by Celeste herself), and get to Meyer Inn Country Club with enough time to down a glass of champagne before everyone arrived.

* * *

Sadie was late.

While shopping for Celeste’s favorite perfume, Sadie had been sidetracked. She stepped out of her car and smiled down at her new black and ivory peep-toed heels, complete with Swarovski crystals along the toes. The store didn’t have her size, so she had to drive across town to another location to pick them up. Sadie slung her new Kate Spade bag over her shoulder—hey, a girl had to accessorize—and walked, head held high, Celeste’s gift bag dangling from her finger.

Looking fabulous was half the battle won. The shoes were nonnegotiable.

Trey had brought Sadie to Meyer Inn countless times when they were dating. Usually to meet his parents for some pithy meal or another. For a passing second, she considered calling and asking Aiden to play her fiancé again. He’d done a stellar job at Rick’s party, and she’d like to see Trey’s face when she walked in with someone handsome and confident on her arm. In the end, she opted out. Not only would she have to deal with the aftermath of the countertop kiss, but she’d also have to deal with Celeste pouting over her birthday thunder being stolen. And Sadie introducing Aiden to her family would cause a severe thunderstorm.

Inside she spotted the back of her mother’s coiffed platinum hair and explained to the hostess she’d walk herself back. She weaved around a waiter, past a flaming tray of Baked Alaska, and spotted Celeste and Trey. Smile pasted firmly on her face, she raised a hand to wave, the action frozen midway when the couple next to Trey came into view. Trey’s mother and father craned their necks around to shoot daggers at Sadie. Sadie’s smile dropped like dice on a Craps table.

She hadn’t seen Trey’s parents since Celeste and Trey’s wedding. They’d made it clear then whose side they were on.

Trey’s. Natch.

Sadie survived brunch. Barely. She downed a mimosa, mumbled apologies to her mother, who repeatedly reminded her she was late for “Celeste’s big day,” and was tempted to order a second glass of champagne and orange juice. She refrained. Champagne gave her loose lips and, in her state of frustration, Lord only knew what might bubble out of her mouth.

After dessert was served—chocolate soufflé with raspberry sauce and white chocolate shavings—Celeste tapped her water glass with a fork. Her wide blue eyes were her father’s, Sadie’s stepfather’s, but she and Celeste shared their mother’s fair hair, fair skin, and petite figure that nipped in at the waist and swelled in all the right womanly places. Celeste was shorter than Sadie, which was a feat considering Sadie barely hit five two, and her hair was shorter, a sloppy pixie cut Sadie would have never been able to pull off.

“Thank you all for coming out for my birthday,” Celeste squeaked in a small voice that made her sound cherubic and adorable, like an angel. A fiancé-stealing angel, Sadie thought with a snort. See? Had she ordered a second mimosa, she’d have announced that last thought.

“Trey and I asked you all here not only because I’m turning twenty-six—”

Bitch.

“—but also because we have a big announcement to make.”

The raspberry Sadie popped in her mouth turned rancid on her tongue. There were only two words that could follow that kind of a statement, so it came as no surprise when Celeste said, “We’re pregnant!” and squeeeed high enough for dogs to hear.

Expecting the announcement of a bun in the oven hadn’t made it any more palatable.

Celeste dug out the blurry ultrasound pictures, and Sadie quickly planned her exit. Trey was glowing. Frickin’ glowing. She realized then the reason it irritated her to see how happy he was with Celeste. His happiness further broadcasted how Sadie had failed to please him.

“It’s got your nose!” Trey’s dad joked about the indiscernible blob on the photo.

“Do you know the sex yet?” his mother asked.

“Not yet. We’re only twelve weeks,” Celeste said, nuzzling her husband.

Yeah. Sadie needed to get the hell out of here. She turned to say good-bye to Mother, but something about Miriam DeWalt’s stalwart expression made her pause. Shouldn’t she be weeping tears of glorious joy? Her perfect daughter had married the perfect son-in-law and they were having a perfect baby. Instead, Mother sat with her hands folded in her lap, a contented smile on her thin lips.

“You knew!” Sadie whispered the accusation, not that anyone could have heard her over the celebratory racket at the other end of the table.

Sadie’s mother shrugged. “She had to tell someone, darling.”

And not her, Miriam implied. Not the jilted, bitter older sister. As usual, Sadie was the last to know. Just like when Celeste and Trey had begun spending extra time together on the patio at her mother’s house. Just like when Trey had asked Sadie’s stepfather for Celeste’s hand in marriage before he’d broken off the engagement with Sadie. Just like now, when Celeste had made sure Sadie was in a position where she was forced to behave while being skewered with the news that not only was her younger sister married and pregnant before her, but would hence be bearing the child of the fiancé Sadie had failed to keep at her side.

Sadie stood from her seat so abruptly, everyone at the table turned toward her. “I have an appointment,” she muttered, silently adding, with a very big bottle of wine. “Happy birthday, Celeste.”

Sadie dropped her napkin over her dessert while Celeste did her impersonation of downtrodden, Woe is me Eeyore. Sadie spared a glare for her turncoat mother before marching for the door. “Thanks for the meal.”

She almost made it to the exit when Trey’s voice rang out behind her. “You can’t be happy for us, can you?”

She turned to face him, sliding her sunglasses onto her nose in the process. “I beg your pardon?”

Trey led her by the elbow into the coat closet. She let him. “Your sister just announced she’s having a baby.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Trey let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t you think the sisterly thing to do would be to offer to throw her a baby shower? Or, I don’t know, say you can’t wait to be an aunt? At the very least, offer your congratulations?”

“I’ll send a greeting card,” she snapped. “She should have told me. I should have known before today.” And that was the key, wasn’t it? The emotion causing her gut to swirl and her eyes to burn had nothing to do with the fact that Celeste was ahead of Sadie in life and had everything to do with hurt. Celeste hadn’t come to her. Her only sister.

“This isn’t being done to you, Sadie. Celeste and I are bringing a child into the world. This moment is about us.”

Sadie ground her teeth but she couldn’t keep from saying, “Oh, that part I got, Trey. It’s always been about you and Celeste.” When she learned of their affair, Trey had framed it that way, too. Celeste and I didn’t mean to fall in love. But we are. We deserve happiness.

Meanwhile, Sadie deserved what? To be left at the altar? To dismantle the wedding she’d planned brick by brick while Trey enjoyed his new fling? Only it wasn’t a fling. It’d turned into an engagement. A wedding. And now a baby.

Sadie turned to leave but Trey blocked the doorway with one outstretched arm. “Wrong again, Sadie,” he said. “Things have always been about you.”

“Well, this has been nice,” she said, her voice dripping with derision. She pushed his arm away and he backed up, staying in front of her as she walked.

He lifted his hands. “Wait. I’m not berating you. Let me finish, please.”

Sadie didn’t want to let him finish, but she also didn’t want him chasing her out of this coat closet and making a scene. If her mother and Celeste saw them arguing, they would pounce on Sadie in tandem. Resigned, Sadie crossed her arms and shot out one hip, letting Trey know he had a very, very limited window to dispense whatever speech he had in queue.

“When I asked you to marry me, I meant it,” he said. “I know to you, it seemed very spur of the moment because it was a random afternoon in a mall, but I assure you, I’d had it planned for at least a year.”

She blinked behind her sunglasses, digesting the new scrap of info.

“We got along well, were great friends, things were good between us. So I thought, why not now, you know? What are we waiting for? After dating for almost two years, I figured we’d end up married anyway.”

Well. Not exactly a profession of undying love, but then, what did she expect?

“But after the engagement, Sadie…well, I don’t want to use the term bridezilla, but—”

The word sent her defenses sky-high. Even as she uttered a harsh “I was not,” part of her wondered if Trey had a small, barely discernible, itty-bitty smidge of a point.

“Our engagement turned into your project du jour, and you know it. The three-ring binder you had under your arm twenty-four seven was more your fiancé than I was.”

Ah, the binder. She loved that binder. Tabbed markers separated everything from color swatches, flower ideas, dress designs, cakes, and the vows she’d written for both of them. She’d cataloged and detailed the menu choices and had chosen meals specifically based on the food intolerances of her guests. Sadie had made it her mission to have a complaint-free wedding. A perfect wedding.

“You were so wrapped up in the planning,” Trey said, snapping her out of her memories of the planning, “I’m not sure you would have noticed if it was me waiting for you at the end of the aisle or someone else.”

Sadie frowned. “I had to be wrapped up in the planning, Trey. You wouldn’t lift a finger to help out.”

“Not true.” His calm, collected demeanor was grating her nerves. “Remember the appointment for the photographer? The appointments for several photographers? I went, and you steamrolled over me, choosing the package you thought was best, choosing the price point you thought was best.”

“But you told me to spend whatever I needed,” she said, clinging weakly to her position.

“And I meant it.” He touched her arm. “It wasn’t about money, Sadie. It was about the time we weren’t spending together. Once you painted a bull’s-eye on becoming my wife, you were so laser-focused, there wasn’t any room left for me in your life. Cripes, we saw so little of each other, it was like we’d broken up. Remember the weekly dinners at your mother’s house? When you bothered to show, it was an hour late, and you made calls on your cell phone half the time you were there.”

Sadie shook her head, but the movement didn’t hold much conviction. Probably because, while she wasn’t about to admit it aloud, Trey was right. She hadn’t attended many of Mother’s Sunday dinners during that time. Once the fifteen-month marathon leading to her walk down the aisle had begun, there simply hadn’t been enough time to do it all…

“It worked out for the best,” he said, patting her arm. “I know you still resent me for ending it, but you should know it’s because of you I found Celeste, the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with.”

Ouch. Sadie was tempted to look down at her gut for a protruding knife. She sure as hell felt one there.

“Admit it.” Trey slid his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t want to marry me. The wedding was another task to check off your list, a chance for you to impress everyone you knew.”

The knife twisted. She wasn’t going to stick around long enough to have it removed and jabbed into her again. Sadie elbowed past him and encountered Celeste in the foyer.

“Darling?” Celeste said as Trey joined them. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy,” Sadie answered for him.

Celeste frowned, a darling little line denting her forehead, and cradled her flat abdomen.

“Someday, Sadie,” Trey said, pulling Celeste against his side and wrapping a protective arm around her, “we hope you will be a part of your niece or nephew’s life. Even if you can’t truly be happy for us.”

Sadie turned her back on them and stomped outside before her brunch made an encore appearance.