Three
Sadie
I sink farther into the lounge chair, letting the warm sunshine soak into my skin with my sketch pad in hand.
I’m working on a drawing of the view. The sun will be setting soon, but I’m chasing it on this late day in May.
Donna Summer plays through my earbuds, her music thumping in my ears.
It’s a disco kind of afternoon. The kind that makes me feel alive.
Summer is getting closer, even though there’s still a little chill in the air.
I’ve covered myself in baby oil, hoping to get a base tan and chase away my pale winter skin.
The music pulses, and I smile. It’s happy music.
The kind that makes you want to spin around in the sun without a care.
I stretch out a little more, arching my back, soaking in the warmth.
Beckett’s backyard feels like a secret hideout.
No one asking for anything. No problems. Just me, the sunshine, the pool, and a beautiful sunset to sketch.
Still, deep down, worry lingers. I can’t forget how I ended up here, knocking on Beckett’s door with nothing but a suitcase and a mess of problems. But I couldn’t take it anymore.
I know Alex is up to something shady. Or maybe I’m still that girl who acts without thinking, chasing trouble just to feel something.
But not right now. This moment is mine. Outside this yard, the world is full of hard things. But inside? I feel like maybe things can get better. I close my eyes and let the music carry me away.
Then a cool breeze hits me, and I’m in the shade. I open one eye.
Beckett.
He’s standing above me, waving his arms around like he’s on fire. My peace disappears in a snap. I groan and pull out one earbud, the music fading as I sit up, squinting at him in the light. “What are you doing?” I ask, already annoyed. My calm is officially over. “What’s going on?”
But instead of a real answer, he yells a string of random words: “Jeep! Water! Ketchup! Disaster!”
I blink. That makes no sense.
I sit up, dropping my feet to the tile. Ketchup? A Jeep? What kind of problem mixes those things?
Beckett looks even more worked up now. I raise an eyebrow, trying to figure out if this is just more of his drama or if it’s something serious.
I stand and scan the yard, my heart picking up speed. “Do I need to call someone? An ambulance maybe?” I ask, only half-joking.
His face turns bright red. He takes a breath, shakes his head, and yells again, less wild this time, but still firm. “Just come inside!”
I roll my eyes. Great. There goes my disco daydream. “Seriously, what is your problem?” I mutter, following him toward the house.
When we get inside, he points to the living room .
Really? This? “Oh, sorry. I’ll get that all picked up. But right now I’m trying to get what’s left of the vitamin D and finish my sketch before it starts to rain again tonight.”
“I can’t live like this,” Beckett snaps. “And you can’t either, not in my house. I like order, and you’re…” He waves his hands around.
Then he spins on his heel and storms toward the guest room.
I follow him, as that’s where all my stuff is currently located.
His face darkens. I peek inside, and yep, my things are everywhere.
Clothes, shoes, makeup, bags—half of it is still in my suitcase, the other half spread across the room like I plan to stay forever.
“I couldn’t find my swimsuit. I’ll get it all picked up,” I assure him. “You just got home before I had the chance.”
“Sadie.” He lets out a long breath, shaking his head as he looks at the mess. “I said you could stay here. That didn’t mean turn the house upside down. Just…be respectful.”
I quickly gather my things and dump them back in my suitcase. It’s not really better. When I walk back out to the living room, he’s still glaring at me.
I cross my arms. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep the common areas clean. I promise.”
I leave him standing there and walk back outside to the pool, pulled by the sun like it’s calling my name. I can feel Beckett’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn around. I just want to sink into the sunlight and forget everything for a little while longer.
I lie back in the chair, put my earbuds in, and Donna is singing “Last Dance.” I close my eyes and try to relax again, like I’m floating in a perfect pre-summer bubble.
I make it through maybe four songs before the sun sets and it’s too cold outside. I gather my stuff and head in. But when I step back into the living room, I stop cold.
Everything is clean.
The mess on the coffee table? Gone. No wrappers, no spilled water, no ketchup stains. It’s spotless, like someone hit a reset button. It doesn’t even feel like the same room .
“What the heck?” I whisper, blinking at the sparkling table. Did he do this all by himself? In, like, twenty minutes?
Beckett walks in, arms crossed, his eyebrows pulled tight. “You finally done pretending you live at a beach resort?”
I almost laugh. “You could’ve warned me. I was planning to clean after I finished outside.”
“Sure,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You looked really busy out there.”
“It was an important appointment—with Vitamin D,” I say with a shrug.
He shakes his head and grabs a water bottle. “I ordered from Paradise Grill, and I thought we could talk.”
That gets my attention. I start to sit down on his leather couch.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m waiting for dinner to arrive. What did you get?”
“You can’t sit on the couch. You’re covered in sunscreen.”
“Actually, it’s baby oil.”
Beckett narrows his eyes. “You know that lying in the sun with baby oil can lead to skin cancer, right?”
I laugh, feeling playful. “I’ll take my chances, thanks! I want a good base tan to start the season. I promise I’m not always irresponsible. I’ll try to cut back on the baby oil.”
“Just take a shower. Dinner should be here in about twenty minutes.”
I hold up my hands. It’s not worth the fight. Back in my room, I take off my bathing suit and inspect myself. I don’t think I got enough sun to consider this a base. I shower and pull on a pair of joggers and a T-shirt.
I pile my hair into a messy bun and walk out.
Beckett immediately zeroes in on my chest. “You need to wear a bra.”
“You’re lucky I’m wearing a shirt.”
He inhales loudly. “Dinner’s here.”
“Oh goodie.” I walk over to the table, which he’s set, and peek into the paper bag. “What did you order? ”
“I got you a roasted chicken salad,” he says. “Figured it’d be a healthy choice.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Oh, I see. You looked at me and thought—salad? Wow.”
“No. It’s that every woman I know seems to order salad. I just figured that’s what you wanted.”
“What did you get yourself?”
“A pot roast dinner.”
I grab it before he can stop me. “Not everyone lives on leaves. And Paradise Grill has the best pot roast in town.”
He gives me a look, but I see the tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “Yes. I know that. That’s why I ordered it for myself.”
“This body needs real food, not rabbit snacks.”
He laughs under his breath, and for a second, everything feels easy.
“Good. That’s a start.”
He rolls his eyes. “Careful, Sadie. You’re lucky I’m feeding you tonight.”
I smirk. “And I’m very thankful. Truly.”
As we eat, the mood starts to shift. It’s not so tense anymore. It almost feels…normal.
Then Beckett leans in a little. “So, how did your errands go?”
“I stopped in to see Rosie and applied for a new job.”
“Oh yeah?”
I sit up straighter, proud of myself. “I’ve filled out four applications. One at the bookstore in the mall, one at another coffee shop, one at a fruit stand, and one at a convenience store.”
His eyebrows rise. “That’s a start. But why not try for an office job? Don’t you have a degree?”
I make a face. “An office job sounds boring. I like having a little freedom. Sitting at a desk all day? No thanks.”
His face tightens. I can feel the change in his mood. “But how are you going to pay rent or bills? Caleb can’t cover everything forever.”
I look down at my plate, feeling worry sneak in. “Caleb doesn’t help me. I paid my half of the rent with Alex.”
Beckett’s voice is low. “Caleb wants you to stay here until Alex is fully out of the picture. How long do you think that will be?”
I shake my head. “Trust me. Alex is fully out of the picture. I’m just here temporarily. I’ll figure it out.”
He studies me for a moment, and I see a softer look in his eyes. “You need to start thinking long term. Maybe we can come up with some ideas together.”
“As long as none of those ideas involve a nine-to-five office job,” I say, giving him a small grin.
He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t argue either.
We keep talking as we finish dinner, joking one minute and getting serious the next. It’s nice—different. There’s something new between us. It’s not like when we were kids and he’d tease me just to get a rise. If we can manage not to drive each other crazy, perhaps we could get along.
As Beckett leans back in his chair, he brings up his weekend plans. “What about working at Paradise Grill?” he asks. “Or maybe Tarryn can help you find a job at the winery.”
I freeze for a second. The idea of his sister, Tarryn, helping me? That feels like a long shot. “Hmm, I don’t know about that,” I say, looking down at my plate. “You do remember that Genevieve Dempsey was one of my best friends in high school?”
“And that matters how?”
“Ginny and Tarryn were archrivals.”
Ginny is a Dempsey, and Tarryn is a Paradise.
The rivalry between those families runs deep, fueled by eight generations of competition, land disputes, and betrayals.
Each family claims the other crossed the line first, and while the newer generation might not fully understand how it began, they’ve inherited the tension all the same.
In the town of Paradise, loyalty is everything, and siding with the wrong name can turn you into an outsider overnight.
We’ve all known each other forever, but that doesn’t make it easy.
He raises an eyebrow. “I know. But people grow up. She might surprise you.”
I roll my eyes. “She didn’t like me back in high school. I doubt she’s waiting around to hand me a job now.”
“You never know,” Beckett says with a shrug. “It doesn’t hurt to ask. Knowing the right people is important when you’re looking for work.”
“Easy for you to say. Your family owns this town,” I tease. But his words stick in my head. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to try. “Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll think about it.”
Beckett nods. “Just keep an open mind. It might not be as bad as you think. It’s a new chance. A fresh start. Just be yourself.”
I nod, taking in his words. “I’ll try. It’s just…hard. I don’t want to put myself out there if the past has already ruined a chance for something good.”
He gives me a warm smile. “Don’t think of it as a problem. Think of it as a challenge. Face it. You’ve got skills to offer, and you might surprise yourself with how strong you are.”
I stand up to clear the table, still feeling unsure, but not as scared as before. There’s something solid under my feet now, a bit of confidence I didn’t have earlier. And surprisingly, part of that is because of Beckett.