Stuck with my Boss Daddies (Men of Medford #3)

1. Sadie

CHAPTER ONE

Sadie

I never thought I’d be back here.

Sitting at Hayley’s kitchen table with my fingers curled around a warm coffee mug, letting the steam brush against my face, it felt almost like nothing had changed.

Almost .

But the weight in my chest told a different story. It pressed against my ribs, a constant reminder that I didn’t belong here anymore. That I had left for a reason, and returning to Medford wasn’t in my plans.

Hayley, of course, was oblivious to my inner turmoil.

She stood at the stove, flipping pancakes like it was just another Saturday morning, like I hadn’t shown up on her doorstep late last night like a stray in need of shelter.

“So, pumpkin,” she said, her voice warm and familiar. “Are you gonna tell me what’s really going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

I forced a small smile. “What do you mean? Can’t a girl just visit her favorite foster mom?”

Hayley turned, arching an eyebrow.

“First of all, I’m your only foster mom. And second, you’re not just visiting. You came back in the middle of the night with nothing but a duffel bag and that look in your eyes.” She gave me a knowing glance before sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me. “So, spill.”

I swallowed hard. I knew this conversation was coming, but I still wasn’t ready.

How could I tell her the truth?

That the city had chewed me up and spit me out? That I’d failed, spectacularly?

That I was embarrassed to have returned with basically nothing?

Yeah, Hayley didn’t need to hear about that.

Instead, I poked at my pancakes with my fork and offered a half-truth. “Things just got… complicated.”

Hayley sighed, taking the seat across from me. “Sadie Collins, I have known you since you were a scared teenage girl who refused to let anyone in. And I know when you’re holding something back.” She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “You can tell me why you’re really here.”

Her kindness was almost too much.

I looked down, blinking away the sting in my eyes. “I’m okay, Hayley. I just need a little time to figure things out.”

She studied me for a long moment, like she was debating whether to push harder.

But finally, she nodded, patting my hand before pulling back. “Alright. I won’t press. But you’re staying here as long as you need, and I mean it.”

Guilt pressed into my chest.

I didn’t deserve this.

Her unwavering support, her trust.

I had already decided I wouldn’t be here long. I just needed a place to breathe, to think, before I figured out my next move.

I set my fork down and forced a lighter tone into my voice. “I was thinking about heading into town today. Maybe reconnecting with some old friends.”

Hayley’s eyes softened, but there was still worry behind them. “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe see if you can find something to keep you here a little longer.”

I forced a smile, not trusting myself to answer.

Because staying wasn’t really in the plans, even if Medford was the only place that had ever really felt like home.

Lucky’s hadn’t changed.

The neon beer signs still flickered on the walls, the pool tables were still occupied by the same guys who probably hadn’t left since I was last in town, and the jukebox still played a mix of old country songs and classic rock.

The familiarity of it settled something in me, even as I reminded myself this was just a temporary stop.

I slipped onto a barstool, waving down the bartender. “Whiskey sour, please.”

The bartender, a guy I didn’t recognize, nodded and set to work.

I exhaled slowly, letting the noise of the bar wrap around me.

It was easier here.

Easier to pretend I wasn’t stuck .

A glass slid in front of me, and I took a sip, the warmth spreading through my chest.

“That your usual?”

The voice came from my right. Deep, smooth, and just teasing enough to make me glance over.

Oh.

Hello, handsome.

The man leaning against the bar had the kind of effortless confidence that came with knowing exactly how good he looked. Broad shoulders, dark hair, a few days’ worth of scruff dusting a sharp jaw.

His blue eyes caught the dim light, watching me with a playful-looking smirk.

I smiled back, swirling the ice in my drink. “Maybe. Or maybe I like to keep things interesting.”

His lips curled at the edges.

“Good answer.” He nodded toward my glass. “Though I have to say, I expected something a little stronger.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do I look like I should be drinking?”

He leaned in, one elbow resting against the bar, the subtle shift bringing the scent of warm spice and wood smoke closer.

“Straight whiskey. Maybe a double. You’ve got that look.”

I tilted my head, amused. “What look is that?”

His study of me was slow, thoughtful, his fingers tapping against his own glass. “Like you’ve been through some things. And like you’re trying real hard not to let them get to you.”

The words hit a little too close to home, but I didn’t let it show.

Instead, I laughed lightly, taking another sip. “And I thought I was just here for a drink.”

His grin was slow and lazy. “Drinks are better with good company.”

I angled my body toward him, letting my knee brush lightly against his. “You offering your company?”

He extended his hand my way. “Samuel Thompson. Best company in town.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Sadie Collins. We’ll see about that.”

We fell into easy conversation, the drinks flowing as smoothly as the teasing remarks between us.

Samuel had a way about him—self-assured, but not cocky. His humor was dry, his confidence effortless, and the way he watched me… it sent a slow heat curling through my stomach.

I knew this game. I played it well.

Letting my fingers trail over the rim of my glass, I gazed at him. “So, tell me, Samuel Thompson, do you make it a habit to flirt with strangers in bars, or am I just lucky?”

He smirked, his gaze flicking over me like he was committing me to memory. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you want me to flirt with you.”

I lifted my drink, taking a sip and letting him wait for my answer. Finally, I set it down, cocking my head just so. “What if I do?”

His expression didn’t change, but I caught the slight shift in his posture, the way his shoulders squared just a little more, like he was ready to play.

“Then I’d say you have excellent taste.”

I laughed. “Confident, aren’t you?”

He leaned in a little more, and his voice dropped just enough to send a shiver along my skin. “I don’t waste time pretending I don’t want something.”

I took another sip of my drink, letting his words settle between us.

He was direct, I’d give him that.

And maybe it was the whiskey warming my blood, or maybe it was the way his eyes had darkened just slightly, but I suddenly wanted to see just how far I could push him.

I shifted closer. “What is it you want, Samuel?”

His jaw ticked, his gaze dipping briefly to my lips before snapping back up. “I think you already know.”

My pulse kicked up, heat spreading low in my stomach.

This was exactly what I needed.

A distraction. A moment to forget everything weighing me down.

And Samuel? He was making it far too easy.

I reached for my drink, brushing my fingers against his in the process. “You talk a good game.”

His lips quirked. “I back it up, too.”

A slow, delicious thrill worked through me. “Is that so?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head like he knew exactly what I was doing. Then, just as I took another sip, he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear.

“Careful, darlin’.” His voice was low, rough. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I swallowed, setting my drink down before meeting his gaze head on. “Maybe I like problems.”

Samuel held my stare for a long moment, like he was waiting to see if I’d take it back.

I didn’t.

He stood, tossing a few bills onto the bar, then extended a hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

A rush of heat swept through me. I didn’t hesitate.

I slipped my fingers into his, letting him pull me toward the door.

The night air was cool against my flushed skin as we stepped outside. I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before Samuel had me backed against the brick wall, hands braced on either side of me.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong.”

I curled my fingers into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. “You’re not.”

His mouth crashed against mine, all heat and hunger, and I sank into it, letting the fire take over.

After everything I’d been through, this was what I wanted.

No strings. No complications.

Just this .

Samuel pulled back just enough to search my face, his breath warm against my lips. His hand skimmed my waist like he was savoring the moment.

“Come with me,” he murmured.

My pulse thundered. But there was no hesitation, no second-guessing.

I nodded.

His fingers laced through mine, a quiet confidence in the way he led me down the street, past the familiar brightness of The Medford Inn’s sign.

The warmth of his touch sent a slow, steady ache through me, anticipation tightening in my chest.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of cedar. It was clean, welcoming even. The front desk was empty at first, but then she appeared, moving from the back room with effortless grace.

Nancy Hayes.

Even after all these years, she hadn’t changed much.

She still carried that quiet strength, her silver-streaked hair twisted into an elegant knot, her sharp eyes scanning us like she already knew exactly what we were doing here.

“Samuel,” she greeted, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

He dipped his head. “Evening, Nancy.”

Her gaze flickered to me, curiosity sparking behind it.

“Sadie Collins,” she said smoothly, folding her hands over the counter. “Now, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

A warmth spread through me, nostalgia laced with a strange heaviness.

I forced a smirk. “Guess I couldn’t stay away forever.”

Nancy hummed, her eyes twinkling like she held a thousand untold secrets.

“I suppose not.” She turned her attention back to Samuel, arching a brow. “You need a room?”

“One night,” he confirmed, slipping a few bills onto the counter without hesitation.

Nancy took them, sliding a key from behind the desk. “Top floor, corner suite. Best view in town.”

I didn’t miss the way she watched me as she handed the key over. Like she saw right through me.

Like she knew exactly why I was here.

“Enjoy your stay,” she said simply, then disappeared into the back.

Samuel’s hand found the small of my back, guiding me toward the stairs. My body hummed under his touch, every step ratcheting up the tension that coiled between us.

The second we walked through the door, the air shifted.

I barely had time to register the room—dim lighting, crisp white sheets, the faint creak of the wooden floor—before Samuel was on me.

His hands skimmed my hips, his mouth claiming mine with a slow, aching hunger.

I melted into it, fingers tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer.

This was what I needed.

No past. No future.

Just this moment.