7. Adam
CHAPTER SEVEN
Adam
I wasn’t surprised when Samuel and Kai agreed to hire Sadie.
Samuel was a practical bastard, and Kai… well, Kai had that look about him, the one that said this was more than just a new hire.
I didn’t know all the details, but I knew tension when I saw it. And between the three of them? It crackled like a live wire.
Not the normal kind that came with bringing someone new into The Foundry. No, this was soap-opera-level drama.
And I lived for it.
Which is why the second Samuel let us know this was her start date, I clapped my hands together and grinned. “Guess that means I get to train her.”
Samuel sighed. Kai scowled. I just widened my grin.
“Oh, come on,” I said, slinging an arm around Kai’s shoulders. “You guys are so busy at the moment. It only makes sense for me to be the unbiased, charming, highly skilled mentor she deserves.”
Kai shrugged me off. “Just don’t mess with her. We need the help.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, looking wounded.
“That hurts, Byrne. Truly.” I turned to Samuel, who was rubbing his temples like he already regretted every choice that led to this moment. “Samuel? You know I got this.”
Samuel sighed again, long and suffering. “Fine. But don’t be an ass.”
“Me?” I beamed. “Never.”
Then Sadie walked in.
And damn.
I’d already noticed she was pretty, but seeing her now, in the early morning sun? Different ball game. She was the kind of beautiful that knocked the sense clean outta a man’s head… all dark hair, sharp green eyes, and curves that could start a war.
And I definitely wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Kai looked like someone just yanked the floor out from under him. Samuel? His jaw tensed so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed over my chest, watching the way Sadie squared her shoulders, trying to play it cool.
“Well, well, Collins,” I said, a slow grin spreading across my face. “Ready to enter the lions’ den?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m ready. You don’t need to worry about that.”
I pushed off the counter, grabbing a folded uniform and holding it out to her. “Looks about your size.”
She arched a brow but took it without comment.
I caught the briefest flicker of amusement in her eyes before she turned away. This was going to be fun.
A few minutes later, she stepped out of the back room, dressed in the uniform.
And I forgot how to breathe for a second.
The simple black tee fit snug against her curves, and the apron tied neatly around her waist somehow made her look both effortlessly cute and ridiculously attractive. She’d pulled her hair up, a few loose strands framing her face, and damn if I wasn’t staring.
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, trying for casual. “Well, would you look at that.”
Sadie glanced up, brow raised. “Look at what?”
I gave a little nod in her direction, like it should be obvious. “You. Looking all official in that apron. Gotta say, it’s a good look on you.”
She scoffed, but I caught the way her lips twitched, like she was fighting a smile. “You flatter all the new hires like this?”
“Only the ones who pull off ‘baking professional’ with style,” I said, tilting my head as if I were seriously considering it. “And you, Collins, are really committing to the look.”
She rolled her eyes, adjusting the apron’s strap. “Well, glad to know I meet The Foundry’s strict fashion standards.”
I grinned. “Exceed, actually.”
She shook her head, but I didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned just the faintest shade of pink.
I leaned in just a little, like I was letting her in on a secret. “Careful, Collins. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll start thinking you actually like working with me.”
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “And what if I do?”
My grin widened. “Then I’d say we’re off to a pretty great start.”
As we worked, I pushed, prodded, tried to peel back the layers Sadie clearly so stubbornly kept wrapped around herself.
Sadie was a puzzle, and damn if I didn’t love a good challenge.
I felt like she was going to keep me on my damn toes.
“So,” I drawled, leaning in just close enough that she’d feel the heat of me at her back as soon as she finished assisting Kai with his latest cake creation. “You gonna tell me what the deal is?”
She didn’t even glance up from the cutting board she was wiping down. “What deal?”
“Oh, you know.” I let my gaze drag over her, slow and lazy. “Why you’re back in Medford?”
Her hand stilled for just a second… so quick that someone else might’ve missed it.
But I wasn’t someone else.
Bingo.
I smirked. “Ooh, seems like there’s drama behind all of that.”
She shot me a look, one corner of her mouth twitching like she wanted to smile but wouldn’t let herself. “You think you’re so clever.”
“Oh, sugar.” I tsked, stepping just a little closer, so close she’d have to make a conscious effort not to brush against me. “I don’t think. I know .”
She rolled her eyes. “Keep dreaming, Reid.”
Reid.
Yep, she was challenging me right back.
I freaking loved that.
“Already do.” I let my voice drop lower, watching the way her fingers tightened on the towel she was holding.
Yeah. She wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted to be.
Before I could push further, her gaze flicked to my arm. “What’s the deal with those?”
I followed her eyes down to my sleeve of ink.
Her fingers, delicate and deceptively steady, reached out to skim the intricate lines tracing from my wrist to my elbow.
Electric. That’s what it felt like.
Her touch was light, barely there, but it sent a charge straight through me.
“These?” I smirked, flexing slightly, just to see if she’d notice. “Just a collection of bad decisions and good whiskey.”
She snorted. “Right.”
I turned my arm, letting her see more of the designs—old school traditional pieces blended with personal touches.
“Fine. Some of them mean something. The compass? Got it after my first solo trip out of the country. The wolf? That one’s for my mother—her favorite animal.”
Her fingers traced a small inked feather near my wrist.
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to flip my hand and tangle my fingers with hers.
“And this one?” she asked, quieter now.
I hesitated. “That’s for my childhood sweetheart. Before she left town.”
She looked up then, those sharp eyes of hers seeing way more than I wanted her to. “I see.”
I shrugged, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Like I said… bad decisions, good whiskey.”
She tilted her head, considering me. “You always deflect with jokes?”
“Only when I’m cornered,” I admitted, shooting her a wink. “And when a beautiful woman is touching me. Hard to think straight under those circumstances.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible to resist? I get that a lot.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. “What about this one?”
She pointed to a small tattoo near the inside of my elbow, a barely noticeable tiny script in looping cursive.
“That,” I said, giving her a lazy grin, “says ‘don’t be an idiot’ in my mom’s handwriting.”
She blinked, then burst out laughing. “Seriously?”
I placed a hand over my heart. “Swear on my butcher’s knife. She wrote it in a birthday card once, and I figured it was solid life advice.”
Sadie shook her head, still smiling. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”
“Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”
Her fingers lingered on my arm, just for a second, before she pulled back. But that one second? Enough to make me crave more.
And just like that, I knew one thing for sure.
Sadie Collins was going to be dangerous.
And I loved to run head first into danger.