Hard to Handle (Love in the Balance 2)

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.

Chapter 9

Turns out one of Axle’s friends-slash-customers was remodeling a 1957 Panhead and, in the process of dismantling it, realized he wasn’t able to remantle it. Axle had called Aiden in to close and gone out to offer his advice and expertise.

Aiden made a mental note to up his A game. When he was running Axle’s someday—think positive—he wanted to keep the personal touches Axle added. Well, as personal as Axle got.

The remaining work hours had flown, and thoughts of Sadie had only managed to increase with the hours that passed. He was standing at the counter, where he’d kissed her rather thoroughly last night. So, yeah. Thoughts.

At five he locked up, looking forward to a lengthy ride. Somewhere outside of the city, where the trees lined the roads and the traffic was sparse. He thought about asking Dad to go, then thought maybe he’d just go by himself. Dad. Axle. Aiden was surrounded by men who didn’t talk. He wondered how they’d become friends in the first place. Maybe they just pointed and grunted at each other.

Aiden swiped his keys out of the drawer where he’d tossed them, and his hand bumped into an object in its recesses. He pulled the square something out of the drawer, a pink cell phone with a sparkly pink case. He smiled. The ultrafeminine phone could only belong to one woman. A woman who had the shoes to match.

Aiden slid it into his pocket, deciding to stop by her apartment and drop it off. He’d like to see her today. Hell, he’d like to see her every day. Maybe he could talk her into a joining him for a bike ride. Doubtful. He eyed a pink helmet on a shelf on the back wall. Same kind he’d bought and returned last year when she refused to climb onto Sheila.

Maybe this time she wouldn’t refuse.

After he locked up the store and stowed his new purchase in a saddlebag, he rode the short distance to Sadie’s apartment. As he knocked on her door, he recalled the moment he’d stood on this porch a year ago and kissed Sadie for the first time. She’d been feeling raw and vulnerable after all they’d shared; he could see it in her eyes. Aiden felt more purged than exposed, and like he was ready to dive into the next stage of his life. Starting with the kiss he’d planted on Sadie Howard’s lips.

Thoughts so mired in the past, Aiden was caught off guard by the elderly woman scowling at him from the other side of the door. She clutched her blue bathrobe and scowled some more. “Can I help you?”

“Uhh…” He rocked back on his heels and studied the number on the side of the town house. Yep. This was it. “Does…Sadie Howard live here?”

“Here, actually.” Sadie hung off of the doorknob of the town house next door, leaning out over the stoop and smiling at her neighbor. “He’s mine, Mrs. Norman.”

Aiden couldn’t keep the grin from his face. He’s mine. He liked that.

Sadie’s smile dropped when Mrs. Norman retreated back to her apartment. “What are you doing here?”

He shot a thumb over his shoulder. “I was so sure you lived at 1912.”