12. Sadie
12
SADIE
By the time the band starts their first set, my emotions are pulled as taut as the fiddle strings, and I try to manage the vibrant sensitivity shimmering inside me without snapping under the pressure.
Ian and I took our food to one of the picnic tables. It wasn’t long before everyone I knew in town—and some people I didn’t—found an excuse to plop themselves down and visit for a while.
Most wanted to talk to Ian, and those who sought me out did so to ask for dog training advice or explain why they’d stopped patronizing my business in favor of Dogapalooza.
“So, Ian Barlowe, huh?” Iris slides onto the picnic bench beside me.
Ian has been whisked away to the cornhole boards set up near the edge of the gravel driveway surrounding the barn. Based on the way the guy who recruited him is cheering and backslapping his buddies, Ian’s athletic ability also extends to yard games. It doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure his prowess is evident in any physical activity a person could undertake.
I need to stop thinking about one in particular if I’m going to have any chance of convincing myself to make a move on my fake boyfriend. Anticipation is not my friend.
I glance around then mock slap Iris’s hand as she tries to steal one of my remaining chips. “Is everyone talking about me?”
She wrinkles her nose and snatches the chip. “Would it help if I lie and say no?”
“They’ll get used to it,” I answer. “You think everyone will calm down, right?”
She studies me for a long moment. “Will you ?”
I’m not going to admit that by the time I'm used to it, if that’s even possible, our arrangement will be over
I had planned to tell my friends the truth, of course. The book club members are the people closest to me, after Sally and Trina. However, watching Iris watch me, I realize I don’t want to deal with the inevitable looks of pity if I admit this is all fake. What’s one more lie in the grand scheme of things?
“I hope not,” I tell her. “I sort of like the idea that people might realize there’s more to me than they thought.” That much is true.
“You’re going to make quite the splash at your sister’s wedding,” she muses. “He’s going to the wedding with you, right? Talk about getting over your high school crush in a big way. Huge.” Her grin is contagious, and I return it, feeling just a bit self-satisfied.
Iris isn’t a native of Skylark, or even Colorado, but knows enough about my history with Bradley and coming home to raise Piper. “That part is awesome.”
“What about checking off your bucket list item?” Her smile turns sly. “I imagine that part is awesome, too. You know I’m up next for the challenge. I have a whole spreadsheet of ideas. Is it time to whip it out?”
“Not even close.” I shake my head. “This relationship is new. Also, a spreadsheet? Seriously, Iris? The bucket list challenge is about choosing something that feels right, not a spreadsheet making the decision for you.”
“No doubt Ian Barlowe would feel exactly right, so what’s the hold-up? Is it your lack of nice underwear?” she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll take you shopping. If you want to try stuff on, let’s drive to Denver. Maybe hit one of those fancy lingerie stores in Cherry Creek. Otherwise, order something online.” She wiggles her delicate eyebrows. “Expedited shipping, if you know what I mean.”
The mayor is a woman who gets things done. She’s organized and meticulous in her planning, to the point that her spreadsheets have spreadsheets. Having her sharp focus on me is overwhelming, but in a different way than Ian’s attention feels. No less intimidating, although I need all the help I can get. I’m learning to accept help—sort of—and I definitely appreciate the offer.
“I don’t even know if we’re going to get there.” What a ridiculous statement. Who wouldn’t want to get there with a guy like Ian? I’m halfway there just looking at him. Could he ever want me the same way?
Iris nods and grabs my hand. “He’s big,” she says like she’s imparting great wisdom. “I’m guessing he’s big everywhere, but it will only hurt for a few seconds.”
Yikes. Leave it to all-business Iris to get right to the meat of the matter, so to speak. “I hadn’t thought about that,” I confess. So much for bigger is better.
“We have to assume he knows what he’s doing.” Iris sounds serious. She could be prepping for a town council meeting, not parsing my lack of a sex life. “I’m guessing he’s had a lot of experience. A lot .”
I yank my hand from hers. “You aren’t making me feel more confident.”
She looks contrite, as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing. “It’s not a big deal, Sadie.”
“Stop using the word big ,” I snap. “I don’t want to think about having sex with Ian Barlowe.”
Iris’s face freezes, her gaze trained directly behind me. Oh, no.
“How about dancing?” Ian asks in that low, grumbly voice. I hear the amusement in his tone.
“This is not chill,” I tell Iris. “Not at all.”
She pops up from the table. “Hello, Ian. Welcome to Skylark. I’m Iris Dixon, the town’s mayor. Interim mayor until I’m officially elected this fall. We’re happy to have you as a new resident of our lovely community. If you need anything as you settle in, give me…”
She shakes her head and flips her shiny chestnut-colored hair over one shoulder. “I’m sure Sadie can handle anything you need.”
I don’t turn around but feel Ian smile behind me.
“She definitely can,” he confirms.
Iris swallows hard before glancing at me again.
“I hate you,” I mouth.
“Love you, too,” she answers, then turns on her heel and strides away.
“I never took the mayor for a coward,” I call after her.
“Would you care to dance?” Ian asks as I blurt, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
He sits down and places his hand on the worn picnic table in front of me, palm facing up. My gaze stubbornly focuses on a little splotch of barbecue sauce next to his thumb.
“Let’s talk while we dance,” he suggests.
As much as every survival instinct I have tells me to bolt, I place my hand in his and force myself to look at him.
“We could also not talk.” I immediately regret the unintentional innuendo of those words. If only I could swallow my tongue at the moment. “I didn’t mean that to sound suggestive. I meant we can dance, enjoy the music, and pretend the past five minutes never happened.”
He smiles as he stands and pulls me to my feet to lead me to the crowded dance floor. My palms are sweaty, and my mouth is filled with sandpaper.
Nerves flit around my stomach as we assume the position. Oh, gah. The thought of Ian and positions makes my knees go weak. Iris’s comments about his size only add to my trepidation as his giant hand grips my hip.
Luckily, I know just the thing to make anxiety less awkward. Verbal diarrhea. That’s the ticket.
“If memory serves, the band starts with the classics,” I tell him like a cub reporter with my first scoop. “Mostly country—Patsy Cline is a favorite with the older crowd around here. Then they move into the line dancing era with early nineties covers. Once it’s just the partiers left, they start the rowdy stuff. Closing time is upon us when they play ‘Friends In Low Places.’” Bradley and his buddies loved belting out the Garth Brooks classic back in high school.
“It wouldn’t be the first time I ended a night with Garth,” Ian says close to my ear. Cue the shivers.
“I certainly won’t be here long enough to sing along.” I don’t mean the words to sound prudish, but to my ears, they do.
“Where are you going to be?”
The question is casual, but my mind is completely muddled from his thumb drawing teasing circles over the small of my back, so I answer without thinking.
“At home in bed.” I feel the shock ripple through his body even though he doesn’t react. “Alone,” I nearly shout. This night cannot get worse.
He continues to guide me around the dance floor effortlessly, like I’m not making a complete fool of myself because I can’t seem to shut my damn pie hole. “Have you thought about doing Dancing With the Stars ?” The words tumble from my mouth in fast progression like I’m possessed or mainlining caramel macchiatos.
“Nope,” he answers and pulls me closer. “I also don’t expect to have sex with you tonight. In case you’re worried.”
Worried, no.
Disappointed, a thousand times yes.
Humiliated beyond belief. Absolutely.
Where’s a spontaneous earthquake, tornado, or other distracting natural disaster when a girl needs one?
Plastering on a smile, I put a little distance between our bodies. He doesn’t resist because he might be big and strong and totally alpha, but he’s a gentleman. I should appreciate that and kind of hate the part of myself that wants to be thrown over his shoulder and hauled off—or God forbid spanked—like we’re in caveman times. Who am I right now?
“Ian, I need to apologize.” The words sound stilted, and I try to get a hold of myself. “I shouldn’t have been talking about us with Iris or anyone. Not about sex or even hinting at it. I appreciate what you’re doing, but this is fake. You agreed for your daughter’s sake. You’re a good dad. A good guy. You’re also not the type of guy who wants to have sex with someone like me. So we can just?—”
He stops so abruptly that the older couple nearest us, two-stepping their way across the floor, runs into his back.
I understand how that feels. Slamming into a solid, sexy brick wall. “Sorry about that, Mr. and Mrs. Moore.”
The man is my dentist, and his wife has worked the front desk of his office since I had my first cavity back in second grade.
“Good to see you out and not covered in dog hair,” Mrs. Moore says, her hand resting on Ian’s shoulder for balance. I don’t think I imagine her eyes going a little glassy. I understand that reaction.
Ian still hasn’t moved, and other than a grumbled, “Sorry,” he doesn’t acknowledge the roadblock we’re causing.
“Are we done dancing?” I glance around confused, because the song has another verse and the bridge still to come. “Listen, if I offended?—”
The noise that comes from my throat can only be described as a yelp. He doesn’t throw me over his shoulder, but the force with which Ian takes my arm to lead me toward the barn’s front entrance might set a land-speed record.
I jog to keep up, my skirt flapping in the cool evening breeze. The sun has dropped below the mountains to our west. I adore this time of evening in Colorado. While our much-hyped three hundred days of sun are lovely, sometimes a girl wants a few shadows to hide what she doesn’t want other people to see.
I expect him to drag me to the parking lot so he can race home and end this painfully awkward night sooner rather than later. Instead, he leads me around the side of the barn.
“There’s nothing and no one over here,” I point out in case he’s lost his way. Maybe all my ramblings scrambled his brain along with mine.
“I know,” he answers. He doesn’t quite sound annoyed, but he sounds something .
Before I can puzzle out the emotion, he spins me, pressing my back against the rough barn siding.
Ian bends his knees until we’re at eye level. “I said I don’t expect sex.”
I’m still struggling to name that tone, but if I had to guess, I’d say frustration. God, please don’t let him cancel our deal. I’ll find somebody else for the bucket list V-card challenge. But I not only don’t want to go to Piper’s wedding alone, I want to go with Ian.
“I never said I don’t want to have sex with you, Sadie.”
I’m so lost in my own thoughts, my own wants, that it takes me longer than it should to catch the meaning of his words. I blink and focus on his eyes, which have turned the vivid blue of a flame’s scorching center.
He leans in closer, and I think he’s about to kiss me for real. My tongue darts out and wets my parched lips. He groans softly, then tilts his head and presses his mouth to the underside of my jaw.
“Sadie. You need to know…”
He drags my earlobe between his teeth, and I practically melt into a puddle of desire. Praise the Lord for the barn at my back.
“I definitely…”
He looks at me again, kissing first one corner of my mouth, then the other.
“Want…”
His tongue traces the seam of my lips.
“To have sex with you.”
“Oh.” It’s the only response I can manage—just the barest puff of air.
Ian takes advantage of my open mouth to kiss me full-on. A deep, heady kiss. A kiss like I’ve only imagined receiving.
“Can you feel how much?” he asks against my mouth as he tilts his hips forward.
He’s rock hard between us. Granted, I don’t have much to compare it to, but I think Iris might have underestimated big when it comes to describing Ian Barlowe.
It’s a good thing he claims my mouth again before I can answer, because I’m pretty sure I don’t have words that would do justice to what I’m feeling.
He’s wrapped an arm around my back, ensuring the rough barn wood isn’t biting into my skin. As if I could register anything but the feeling of being kissed by Ian. His lips are soft but demanding, and every part of my body is thrumming with need. The rest of the world fades away and it’s like being smack in the middle of a perfect moment, but still longing for more. Because his mouth on mine isn’t nearly enough.
His other hand cups my cheek, then trails down my neck and collarbone until he covers my breast with his palm. Forget that thought about wishing I’d worn a bra with more padding.
Need spears through me as he circles my taut nipple. I want to beg him to take me right here. I didn’t even know I had it in me to beg , and we’re both still fully dressed.
What in the world could this man do to me naked?
A throat clears behind us. Ian stills and draws back ever so slightly to offer a hint of a smile. “No expectations, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Just a whole hell of a lot of want.”
I assume whoever caught us has walked by, but no such luck. Even worse, I recognize the voice calling, “Is that you, Sadie?”
I feel Ian’s reluctance when I push him away, but he steps to one side, not turning around to face the woman staring at us, her coral-tinted lips pursed in a scowl.
“Imagine being caught canoodling at the barn dance as an adult.” Amanda Sinton giggles. “I suppose you’re making up for lost time. You most certainly never made out with anyone back in high school.” She clucks her tongue. “Or college, from the stories Bradley used to tell.”
I automatically raise a hand to my chest, hating that her verbal arrow has pierced right where she aimed it.
“Nice to see you, Amanda,” I lie. “Piper told me you’re coming to the wedding.”
“Of course I’ll be there. I’m happy for Bradley and your sister. Are you going to introduce me to your new friend ?” She puts special emphasis on the words as Ian turns to face her.
“Amanda, this is Ian Barlowe.”
“Her boyfriend,” Ian clarifies, just as he has with every person we’ve met tonight. You’ve got to appreciate the man’s commitment to the game. But he doesn’t smile at Amanda. In fact, he looks annoyed—potentially both at the interruption and her digs at me. Maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part, but somehow I have the feeling Ian has my back. The idea gives me enough confidence to offer him a shy smile.
“This is Amanda Sinton. She works at the elementary school.”
She takes a step closer and holds out a manicured hand, her fingers long and elegant, the French tips on her nails perfect half-moons. “ Principal Sinton,” she tells him. “I understand your daughter is joining our school community this fall.”
Ian nods. “Sixth grade,” he says.
“We’re excited to have her and you as part of our Skylark Wolves family,” she says, tilting her chin skyward. It gives us a perfect view of her creamy skin and the subtle cleavage exposed by her V-neck sundress. She lets out a howl, dainty as noises go.
“Okay, then.” Ian glances at me then back to Amanda, who stands there like she’s not done with us—with me, more likely. “Nice to meet you, Principal Sinton. Sadie and I should be heading home now.”
“It’s a close-knit community at the school,” she elaborates, “and we look out for our children and parents. We pride ourselves on being pillars of the Skylark community. Feel free to reach out if you need help meeting the right people.”
Quicker than I’ve seen anyone move in a long time, she pulls a business card from her cross-body purse and presses it into Ian’s hand, giving that hand a squeeze. “My cell number is on the card. Please call any time.”
Is Amanda trying to steal my fake boyfriend right in front of me?
“Thank you,” Ian says, no emotion in his tone. “Riva is a good student, and I already feel very welcome in town.”
“You’re new. You’ll find your way,” she tells him with a wink. “Good to see you, Sadie. If not before, we’ll visit at the wedding.”
She turns to walk away, then glances over her shoulder. “My secretary sent sponsorship applications for the school’s summer fun run. We’re raising money for new playground equipment—such a worthy cause. Dogapalooza has already signed on as a gold sponsor. Ian, you’ll get more information from PTO about signing Riva up. I’m sure she’ll want to participate. Sadie, I understand that times are tight for certain small businesses in town, so whatever you can contribute would be greatly appreciated.”
“You bet,” I answer with a smile that might crack if I have to hold it much longer. She disappears around the side of the barn, and I slump back against the wood, head lowered, chin resting on my chest. “Amanda Sinton is a Colorado native who missed her calling as a southern belle,” I tell Ian.
“You were friends in high school?” He leans against the barn next to me and crosses his thick arms over his chest.
“She dated Bradley, and he and I were friends. Because of that, I was included in his group. I stupidly thought that meant they were my friends, too.”
Ian laughs softly. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you dodged a frenemy bullet with Principal Sinton. She’s extra extra, as Riva would say.”
I blow out a breath. “Why did it have to be her who caught us?” I wonder out loud. “She’s going to tell everyone.”
Ian nudges me with his elbow. “Isn’t that a good thing? If nothing else, what your former non-friend witnessed should seal the deal as far as people believing what’s between us is real.”
Ouch. That stings, even though it shouldn’t. I can tell myself all I want about losing my V-card to Ian being the right thing, but the truth is, my heart was just as engaged as my body when we were kissing.
That won’t work.
At all.
“I’d like to go home.” I push off the barn and head for the parking lot.
The sky is inky now and stars twinkle above us like the fairy lights strung across the barn’s interior, making the night feel both intimate and expansive. A bonfire glows at the edge of the property with couples swaying to the music drifting out. It’s like something out of a romantic movie, only the chill that tinges the evening air seems to be coming from inside me.
I wrap my arms around me to ward off the cold. Ian doesn’t take my hand again, and we’re silent as he drives away from the barn.
“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him, unbuckling my seat belt before he’s even pulled to a stop in my driveway. As if I can’t make it the short distance between his property and mine on my own.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” He puts the truck in park.
“Not necessary. You still need to pick up Riva from Sally and Trina. I can make it on my own.” Story of my life, in fact.
“Are we okay, Sadie?” It sounds like he cares about my answer.
“All good.” I chuck him on the arm like nothing happened between us. Like I hadn’t been on the way to my first big O with another person right there on the side of a barn in plain sight of half the town. That’s embarrassing to admit, even to myself.
“I’ll see you later, Sadie.” Before he can say anything else, I hop out of the car and walk to my house without looking back.
Max is waiting by the front door, tail wagging and a half-destroyed stuffed toy in his mouth as an offering. Good old Max. My most stable relationship.
I head for the freezer, because this night is begging for a bowl of Rocky Road. Ice cream and dog kisses. A girl could do worse.