5. Sadie
SADIE
C utter carries me inside his cabin for the second time in as many days. I melt into him, savoring every moment of this closeness.
Something happened out there next to the greenhouse and the field of wildflowers. Cutter got lost in a memory, a tragedy so deep and dark that he still hasn’t processed it. For a split second, the iron wall around his heart cracked, letting me see the fragile soul he keeps locked up so tight.
I’m not the only one harboring secrets up on this mountain. As much as I know I need to get back to town and report to work, I ache to stay here and find out everything about this man.
Cutter deposits me on the couch, where he proceeds to cover me with no less than three blankets. I giggle at his serious expression as he adjusts the pillows and fluffs them up, putting one underneath my sore foot and two more behind my back.
“I’m really okay,” I tell him. “I was clumsy and tripped over my own two feet.”
Cutter looks at the work boots he gave me to wear, narrowing his eyes into slits.
I swear he’s angry at them for being too big and causing me to fall.
This man. His grunts and growls say one thing, but his actions tell a different story.
He’s protective, thoughtful, and a good man.
I sensed it the moment he found me in the woods, and everything afterward has only proved my initial assumption.
“Breakfast,” he says gruffly. I smile and nod, eagerly awaiting the omelettes he promised.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m digging into the most delicious, savory, perfectly seasoned omelette with fresh veggies and eggs. A girl could get used to this princess treatment.
“Oh my god, Cutter, this is amazing,” I say around a forkful of eggs.
He’s sitting on the edge of the couch closest to my feet, though he’s extra cautious about not bumping my sore ankle. The man nods once in acknowledgment. He’s about as good at taking compliments as I am, I see.
We eat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. For once, I don’t have the need to fill the quiet space with an onslaught of random facts or intrusive questions. Cutter’s presence soothes me in a way I’m not used to. Being together is enough.
When I’m done, I start to get up so I can rinse off my dirty dishes, but Cutter stops me. He takes my empty plate and returns moments later with a glass of water.
“You’re spoiling me,” I tell him when he hands me the water.
His brow furrows, and he tilts his head to one side. “It’s not spoiling. I’m simply taking care of you.”
I blink up at him a few times, not sure how to process the wave of emotion swelling in my chest. Am I about to cry?
Before the first tear falls, I take a breath and clear the confusing thoughts in my brain.
“Well, either way, it’s nice,” I finally reply, hoping to end the conversation with my megawatt smile.
Cutter’s eyes never leave mine, those blue irises searching for… something.
He tears his eyes away from me and busies himself by wiping off the crumbs on the coffee table from breakfast. I look around the living room, surprised to see a few shelves of DVDs next to the small TV.
“Do you really use a DVD player instead of streaming services?” I ask.
“I have plenty of streams on my property,” he replies in all seriousness.
“No, streaming services like Netflix and… wait, was that a joke?”
Cutter tries to hide his smirk, but I see it all the same. God, this man. He’s stupidly handsome all on his own, but coupled with that smirk… he’s devastatingly sexy.
Upon further inspection, I realize the DVDs are all kung-fu movies, which has me geeking out.
“No way! You have Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow ?
It was Jackie Chan’s first kung-fu movie, you know.
God, I haven’t watched it in ages. When I was seven or eight, one of my foster brothers brought home a portable DVD player and snuck into the room us kids were sharing.
All five of us crowded around that small screen, not sure what movie we were about to watch since the whole thing was technically stolen from a friend of a friend.
As soon as the opening sequence played, I was hooked.
I mean, how can you not love the action, campy-ness, and comedy all wrapped up in some sweet ninja maneuvers?
I used to practice the moves in case I needed them someday.
Unfortunately, my training didn’t help much. ”
My rambling comes to an end, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from spilling more about my past and my upbringing. I shouldn’t be sharing all of this, not only to protect myself, but because it’s not fair to dump everything on Cutter.
He stares at me, the intensity too much for me to take. What is he thinking? That I’m pathetic? A burden? A ranting lunatic who needs to get out of his space? Probably all three.
“My dad and I watched all of Jackie Chan’s movies,” he finally says, though it sounds like the words physically hurt him to speak out loud.
“Could we watch Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow ? Then I’ll leave, I promise.”
Cutter’s entire countenance changes. His spine stiffens, his lips press into a thin line, and he clenches his fists so tightly I can see the veins bulging in his forearms. I’m not sure what’s happening or what’s going through his mind, but Cutter walks over to the shelf and hovers his hand over the movie in question.
He hesitates, his hand shaking slightly as if the DVD case is going to jump out and bite him.
Finally, Cutter grabs the movie and pops it into the player attached to the TV.
I notice the spot it left behind on the shelf, meaning it’s been there long enough to collect a considerable amount of dust. I wonder why he kept this collection of movies if he never watches them.
Cutter doesn’t strike me as a sentimental person, and he’s definitely a minimalist. So why does he have dozens of DVDs taking up space in his home?
I adjust myself to make room for Cutter, but he sits on the floor in front of me, leaning back against the couch. His muscles are tense, and he’s clenching his jaw so hard he might break a damn tooth. What is going on with him?
The familiar opening song begins, and the title fills the screen in large, blocky yellow letters.
A wistful smile takes over my face, nostalgia mixing with some of the more painful memories of my childhood.
These movies were a bright spot, an escape for me when I had nothing else.
I’m not sure what they mean to Cutter, but he’s clearly having some kind of emotional reaction, whether he realizes it or not.
“We don’t have to watch this,” I tell him softly. “It was just an idea.”
I shouldn’t be surprised when he answers me with a grunt.
We watch the first few minutes, but my eyes never leave Cutter. I lean over and grab the remote off the coffee table, pausing the movie.
“Why are you so grumpy?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.
“I’m always grumpy,” he replies.
I smile and nudge his shoulder. “This is different. You seem sad. Kung-fu shouldn’t make you sad.”
“This was my father’s favorite movie,” Cutter says, though I can barely hear him. “He’s gone now.”
Cutter can’t seem to bring himself to say the actual words – that his dad is dead. My heart squeezes up painfully tight as the pieces of the puzzle come together. “When did he pass?” I whisper.
“Before I moved up here.”
I swallow back tears at the pain laced in his voice. It’s clear he blames himself for whatever happened, so much so that he isolated himself up here on the mountain.
“What about your mom? Does she live close by?”
He barks out a dry, cynical laugh. “Hell no. That woman was in and out of our lives at the drop of a hat. She got bored living in a small town and left every few months, only to come crawling back with a sob story. My old man fell for it every time. For the life of me, I don’t know why he loved her so much.
She certainly wasn’t there when he needed her the most.”
“I’m so sorry, Cutter.” I trail off, resting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs off my hand and stands up, pacing back and forth.
“No,” he barks out. “I don’t need your pity. I wasn’t there, either. I…” His chest rises and falls with choppy breaths, and he keeps flexing his fingers and then balling them up into fists.
I recognize the beginnings of a panic attack when I see one. I hate seeing him like this, controlled by the darkness and shame he’s tried so hard to run from.
Pulling the blankets off, I swing my legs over the couch and stand, joining Cutter as he paces in front of the fireplace. He pauses when he notices me, his eyes roaming all over my face but never meeting mine. I make a risky choice and rest my hand on his chest, covering his pounding heart.
“It’s okay,” I murmur.
“It’s not,” he nearly snarls. “Nothing is okay. He’d still be here if… I fucked up, Sadie. I…”
“Just breathe, Cutter. We can’t change the past, but we get to decide how we live each day in the present.”
His deep blue eyes capture mine, piercing me with an agonizing look of self-loathing, shame, and regret.
He shakes his head no and wraps his fingers around my hand on his chest. I think he’s about to rip it away, but instead, he clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping him afloat in his sea of sadness.
I take slow, measured breaths, encouraging him to breathe with me.
The raging storm within subsides breath by breath until Cutter finally relaxes.
I make another risky choice by lifting my free hand to his face, my fingertips grazing his left temple and cheek.
He’s so fragile at this moment, baring his soul for me to see, even if I don’t know every detail of his story yet.
Cutter leans into my touch, closing his eyes and letting me comfort him. When he opens his eyes again, a new look has taken over his features.
He dips his head, brushing his nose against mine. His pine and peppermint scent washes over me, his presence overwhelming every one of my senses. We’re suspended in time and space, our lips inches apart while we breathe the same air.
“Thank you,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to mine.
I welcome his kiss, though I have no experience and no idea what I’m doing. He licks my bottom lip and I open up for him, gasping as he sips from me in long, languid strokes. His hands cup the sides of my neck, his thumbs lightly grazing my skin and making my nerves sizzle and pop.
Cutter angles my head slightly so he can deepen the kiss. I hum when he tickles the roof of my mouth, making him growl and do it again. I’m completely lost in his taste, his touch, and the sharp ache blossoming in my core.
“So soft and sweet,” he says to himself before diving in again.
One hand finds the back of my head while the other trails down my body, sparking desire in its wake. Cutter cups my ass, massaging my flesh and making me moan into his kiss. I tilt my head back, breaking our connection and gasping for air.
The next thing I know, Cutter has me up in his arms, and then he’s depositing me back on the couch. This time, he sits next to me, resting his arm on the back of the couch in invitation. I curl up against my sexy, wounded mountain man as he presses play on the movie.
Cutter circles his arm around me, tucking me even closer to him. I want to talk about the kiss, to ask what it means to him and when we can do it again. I want to pick apart every detail of what he told me about his dad and tell him he has to stop punishing himself.
Instead, I lay my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He needs this. Needs the silence and space to feel safe again. I can provide that for him. He’s already given me so much without even knowing the real reason I’m here.
My stomach twists at the thought of betraying Cutter. Earlier today, he said everyone at Top Spot Realty is selfish and soulless. Could I ever convince him otherwise? Would Cutter forgive me if I told him now?
I peer up at him as he looks down at me, a soft expression taking over his features. How can I tell him I work for the enemy? This man has already been through so much in his life. Now, he’s finally opened up to someone about his past, and I’m about to break his heart.
“Whatever you’re thinking about so hard can wait,” he says softly.
I nod and rest my head on his chest again. Cutter combs his fingers through my hair, making me feel loved and cared for. We watch the movie in silence while I wrestle with the predicament I’ve found myself in.
I can’t leave Cutter. I also can’t keep the truth from him forever. Shit. What am I going to do?