Eleven #2
“She and Tarryn didn’t get along in high school.”
“Who didn’t I get along with?” Tarryn asks, breezing into the room. She pops a cherry tomato into her mouth and grabs another.
“Sadie Calloway is coming for dinner,” I say.
Tarryn’s eyes widen. “Here? At the house?”
“She’s living with Beckett,” Mom adds casually, as though that clears everything up.
“You two are dating?” Tarryn’s voice jumps three octaves.
“No,” I answer. “She left her boyfriend and didn’t have anywhere to go. I’m just helping Caleb out.”
Tarryn shrugs. “It’ll be good to see her. She always had a sharp sense of humor.” Another tomato disappears.
“But didn’t you hate her in high school?”
“She was best friends with Ginny Dempsey,” she says, waving a hand. “That was a long time ago.”
I roll my eyes, slicing a pepper a little too aggressively.
As dinner comes together, the room fills with the scent of roasted vegetables, garlic, and fresh herbs. The conversation rolls on, casual and chaotic, exactly the way it’s always been. But I keep glancing at the clock, pulse ticking faster every time a minute passes.
Then, just as I’m starting to wonder if she’s coming, the front door swings open.
“Hello? Beckett?” Sadie calls.
I turn, and there she is, framed by the evening light. She’s changed out of the jeans she was wearing at the hospital into a sundress that brushes her knees, soft and simple, and her hair falls loose over her shoulders, slightly windblown from the drive.
She looks like summer, like something I wasn’t ready for.
“Hey,” I say, trying to hide the way my heartbeat skips.
She smiles. “Wow. Smells amazing in here.”
Then she spots my mother and walks straight over, pulling a bouquet from behind her back.
“These are for you,” she says, handing over a vibrant arrangement.
My mother pulls her into a hug. “You didn’t have to bring anything, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re here.”
When they pull apart, I fumble for something to say. “Mom made dinner,” I blurt.
Sadie laughs softly. “Thank you for inviting me. Beckett’s been ordering from the Grill most nights.”
Mom eyes me. “You’re a heart doctor. You know better. You should be cooking healthy meals, not dodging the stove.”
Before I can defend myself, Greyson and Trinity walk into the kitchen hand in hand.
I turn to Sadie. “You already know my family. Trinity is the newest member.” I turn to Trinity. “This is Sadie Calloway. She’s the younger sister to my best friend, Caleb, who is currently living in London. She’s staying at my place.”
Trinity beams. “Hi! It’s very nice to meet you.”
Sadie nods, glancing my way. “Thanks.”
The night unfolds in a blur of laughter, wine, and the kind of warmth that can only come from being surrounded by family.
Sadie fits right in, her charm effortless.
She’s telling my mom a story about visiting Rosemary and a confused patient who thought she was a nurse and insisted she find him pudding, gesturing with her hands and keeping everyone laughing.
Every time her eyes find mine across the table, I feel a little jolt. We’re not together. We shouldn’t be anything. But I can’t stop watching her.
“What are you doing for work, sweetheart?” my mom asks, passing her the wine.
Sadie shrugs. “I’ve applied all over town, but nothing’s panned out yet. I figure once the tourist season hits full swing, I’ll start getting some calls.”
“Well, you just let me know if you need anything,” my mom says. “We take care of our own.”
Sadie gives her a soft smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
I should be relieved she’s fitting in so well, yet I can’t help but feel it—that low hum of tension beneath everything. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she becomes part of this family…but not with me.
“Where have you worked before?” Tarryn asks, curiosity lifting her brows.
“I’ve done a little of everything,” Sadie replies. “Retail, waiting tables—I don’t want to sit at a desk. Coffee shops. I’ve worked in a lot of places.”
“Why’d you leave those jobs?” Tarryn presses, tone still casual but her gaze assessing.
Sadie doesn’t flinch. “Some of it was me—being young, showing up late. But I spent the last three years working at Della’s Coffee Hut.”
“Hey!” Ryker cuts in. “They shut down the one near the hospital.”
Sadie nods. “Yeah. Della stopped paying her taxes, and the CRA shut the whole business down.”
“You worked there for three years?” Tarryn asks, with a hint of surprise. “At a coffee hut? ”
“I loved it,” Sadie says with a smile. “There were regulars I saw every day. And I had fun when people gave me those ridiculously complicated orders.”
“Like what?” I ask, leaning in before I can stop myself.
She grins. “An extra-large salted caramel mocha blended iced coffee with five dark roast espresso shots, four pumps of caramel sauce, four pumps of caramel syrup, three pumps of mocha, three pumps of toffee nut syrup, double blended, with extra whipped cream.”
Greyson stares. “That’s…real?”
“It’s more common than you’d think,” Sadie laughs. “Some people want their caffeine with a side of sugar coma.”
“How does that person ever sleep again?” Kingston mutters.
She shrugs, still smiling. “I wasn’t in charge of their sleep. Just their drinks. My goal was to keep the line moving and make the best possible cup.”
“You worked full time in one of those huts?” Tarryn asks, clearly impressed despite herself. “Those places get brutally hot in the summer.”
Sadie nods. “I did what I needed to.”
Tarryn studies her for a second, tapping her nail on the rim of her glass. “I need someone in the tasting room. Any interest?”
Sadie tilts her head, intrigued. “What would that involve?”
“Pouring tastings, helping guests, learning about our wines,” Tarryn says. “We host private events and tours, so there’s some prep work. But it’s fun and steady. You’d be working with our cousin, Zach, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”
“You meet all sorts of interesting people,” Trinity adds helpfully.
Sadie’s eyes brighten. “That sounds kind of amazing. I miss being around people who enjoy what they do. And wine tastings? Count me in.”
I watch them, my sister and the woman who’s been living in my house, forming an unexpected connection. Something about Sadie changes. She seems more vibrant, energized. Like she’s been holding her breath for weeks and finally let it out.
“Perfect.” Tarryn beams. “Zach might try to dump everything on you, so take what you want and push back on the rest. We’ve been looking for someone with a backbone.”
“Is Zach getting promoted?” Sadie asks.
Tarryn snorts. “If I can prove the tasting room’s been underperforming, Zach’s next promotion might be to the unemployment line.”
“Well…” Sadie grins. “I’m here to help however you need.”
“Great. Swing by my office tomorrow morning, and I’ll get you set up. Wear comfortable shoes. You’ll be on your feet all day. And bring a notepad. I’m giving you a crash course in our wines.”
“Thanks, Tarryn,” Sadie says warmly. “Really.”
As dessert arrives—a dense chocolate torte drizzled with ganache—Sadie leans across the table toward me, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“You planning to share that, or do I need to wrestle you for it?”
It takes me a second to recover from the jolt of unexpected heat in her tone. “You might want to think twice before challenging a cardiologist.”
Her laugh is low and playful, and something about the way she looks at me makes the air in my lungs feel thinner.
After dinner, Mom shoos us all out of the kitchen, insisting she doesn’t want help—just “clear space.” The group scatters. Sadie tells Tarryn she’ll see her in the morning, and I find myself walking out with her.
“Thanks for inviting me tonight,” she says. “Your family has always been so good to me. Tonight, they made me feel…included.”
I glance over, surprised by her honesty. “They’re good at that,” I reply. “As you know, it can be a lot at once, but it comes from a good place.”
She stops on the porch, leaning against the railing. The moonlight casts a soft glow over her face as she looks out toward the trees lining the edge of the property.
“It felt good to laugh again,” she says, voice quieter now. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”
I want to step closer, to reach for her hand or say something that might ease that ache, but I don’t. I can’t.
“I’m glad,” I say instead.
Silence stretches between us, not uncomfortable, but heavy. Charged.
Eventually, I clear my throat. “Well, we should get going so you can get some sleep. You’ve got your clothes ready for tomorrow?”
She nods. “I think I can pull something together with what I have at your place.”
“Good.” I start down the steps, then glance back. “’Night, Sadie. In case I don’t see you at home.”
“Goodnight, Beck.”
She heads for the Jeep, and I settle in my car. When I close the door behind me, I don’t move. I lean against the seat for a second, closing my eyes.
She was perfect tonight. Warm, open, funny.
It’s good that she’s feeling more comfortable, getting back on her feet. But, I remind myself, that doesn’t have anything to do with me.