28. Sadie
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Sadie
The festival was in full swing, despite the wind, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself genuinely having fun.
I wasn’t worrying about the whispers behind my back, the stolen glances from town busybodies who probably had a lot to say about me and my… situation.
Instead, I let myself get swept up in the warmth of it all.
The sound of laughter and music, the crisp bite of autumn against my skin. Medford might have had its fair share of drama, but damn if it didn’t know how to put on a festival.
Truth be told, being back at one reminded me of all the fun I’d had as a teenager.
Sure, life in Medford had been hard for me. I’d been drowning in grief at the time. But it had also given me some of the best memories of my life.
I wish I hadn’t spent so long tuning them out.
I was pulled from my thoughts when a familiar voice chirped beside me.
“There you are! I was starting to think you’d slipped away to hide.”
I turned to find Hayley grinning at me, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her coat, cheeks rosy from the cold.
“You know me too well,” I admitted. “But no, I’m actually having a good time.”
“Good.” She nudged me with her elbow. “You deserve to.”
“Hayley, I need you…”
All of a sudden, my foster mother was tugged away by Harriet. It seemed like the Sweet Maple Bakery stall was overwhelmed.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” she cried as she was dragged away.
I wouldn’t see her for a while, but I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
She was my family. My real family. I definitely saw her as more than just a foster mom.
Even more so since I’d been back. It was nice to discover that I really did have a great support system here.
Speaking of which…
“Sadie!”
Before I had a chance to turn, Lila’s arms wrapped around me from the side, squeezing me tight like she hadn’t just been glued to my side all afternoon.
“You look so good,” she declared, pulling back to admire her own handiwork. “I knew the curls were the right call.”
“Obviously,” Aurora added, adjusting her grip on Evie, who was watching everything with wide, curious eyes. “We’re professionals.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You two just like bossing me around.”
“Yeah, and?” Lila grinned before reaching down to ruffle Biscuit’s fur as he zoomed excitedly around my legs. “He agrees with us, by the way.”
Before I could respond, Biscuit darted forward like a tiny, unstoppable force of nature… straight toward a precariously stacked display of caramel apples.
“Oh no,” I breathed.
“Oh, hell,” Lila muttered.
The moment the first apple hit the ground, the vendor—a no-nonsense older woman—let out a sharp gasp. “You get back here, you little menace!”
Biscuit, completely unbothered by the impending wrath of a caramel-apple enthusiast, seized the largest apple he could and took off under the nearest hay bale display, tail wagging victoriously.
Aurora covered her mouth, laughing. “That dog is actually unhinged.”
Lila groaned and handed Jace, who had been strapped snugly to her chest, off to Colt, who had just arrived with the rest of the guys. “If I don’t come back, assume Biscuit won.”
I was still laughing when their respective men joined us. Jaxon, Ryan, and Colt from Lila’s corner, while Ethan, Owen, and Mason made up Aurora’s. They all moved easily within the chaos, like this kind of thing happened all the time.
Jaxon gave me a once-over, clearly the protective one. “You good?”
“I am,” I said, and I actually meant it.
Colt, who still had Jace perched in one arm, smirked. “Having fun with your three strapping men?”
Ryan smacked him upside the head. “Ignore him.”
Aurora’s Ethan shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse him. No filter.”
“I have a filter,” Colt argued. “I just refuse to use it.”
Owen sighed, clearly used to the nonsense. “What’s been your favorite part of the festival so far?”
I glanced around, taking in the booths, the sound of kids squealing over games, the sight of families curled up on hay bales with cider in their hands.
Honestly?
This. Right here. Being surrounded by people who didn’t judge me, who built their lives on love and connection despite what anyone else thought.
“I think this,” I admitted, gesturing to all of them. “It’s… nice.”
Aurora gave me a knowing look. “It’s more than nice, Sadie. We love having you here.”
Before I could say anything, Lila returned, looking exasperated, Biscuit tucked under her arm like a very proud criminal.
“Well,” she sighed, “I’m officially blacklisted from the caramel apple stand.”
I bit back a laugh. “Did you at least get the apple back?”
“Oh, no. He inhaled it.” Lila scowled at Biscuit, who looked entirely unrepentant. “I’ll probably have to call the vet later.”
Colt snorted. “That dog is a legend.”
I shook my head, watching as Jaxon adjusted Jace’s tiny hat, Mason made ridiculous faces at Evie, and Ryan tucked a blanket around Lila’s shoulders.
They had love. Real, undeniable, unshakable love.
And maybe I could have that, too.
Before I could dwell too long on the thought, the lively strum of a guitar filled the air, followed by the steady rhythm of a fiddle and the deep beat of a drum.
The festival band had started up, and in an instant, the square came alive with movement.
People clapped along, couples twirling onto the makeshift dance floor beneath the string lights. The energy was infectious, laughter and cheers blending with the music as boots scuffed against the wooden planks.
I smiled, soaking in the moment—only to suddenly be grabbed by a familiar pair of hands.
“C’mon, city girl.”
I barely had time to react before Adam spun me straight into his arms, pulling me into the middle of the dance floor like he’d been waiting for his moment all night.
“Adam!” I gasped, laughing as he led me into a quick two-step. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing with you,” he said simply, a slow smirk curving his lips. “Figured I should get my turn before one of the other guys cuts in.”
My pulse stuttered, but before I could process what that meant, Adam twirled me out, then reeled me back in effortlessly.
“You do realize I’m terrible at this, right?” I managed between breathless laughs.
He arched a brow. “I don’t think so. You seem to move to the beat well.”
I wanted to argue, but the way he was looking at me, mischievous, warm, so damn sure, made my brain stutter.
The music picked up, and he spun me again, this time dipping me low.
My heart lurched. Both from the motion and the way his gaze locked onto mine, holding me there for just a beat longer than necessary.
Electricity crackled powerfully between us.
For a second, it felt like we were the only two people in the square.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the festival, kicking up fallen leaves and sending the string lights swaying overhead. I shivered as the breeze ghosted over my skin.
Adam noticed. His hand, still holding mine, tightened ever so slightly. “Cold?”
“A little,” I admitted, though I wasn’t sure if it was the wind or the way he was looking at me that sent a shiver through me.
His smirk softened, his thumb brushing against my knuckles in a way that sent my pulse into an uneven rhythm. “We can fix that.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled me closer, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill. The music slowed, shifting into a softer, more intimate song.
“Adam,” I murmured, my heart hammering.
He just smiled, his free hand settling lightly at my waist. “Just dance with me, Sadie.”
And I did.
I let him lead, let myself fall into the easy sway of the music, let the wind wrap around us as we moved in sync. I wasn’t thinking about the past or the future… only the now.
Only the way he felt, solid and sure.
Only the way my heart skipped when his fingers brushed my spine.
Only the way his eyes darkened as he looked down at me, like I was the only thing in his world at that moment.
Another gust of wind whistled through the square, stronger this time, sending loose banners flapping wildly and making the flames in the festival lanterns dance.
A few people laughed, pulling their jackets tighter, but the chill barely registered as Adam bent his head just slightly, his lips a breath away from mine.
Then, just as the space between us disappeared, a sharp crack of thunder split the air.
The sound jolted through me, snapping the moment in half. Around us, gasps and murmurs rippled through the festival crowd as another gust sent decorations flying, rattling the stalls and tugging violently at the string lights above.
Adam stiffened, his hand tightening on my waist just as a streak of lightning lit up the sky. “Well, that escalated quickly,” he muttered, casting a glance toward the storm clouds now swallowing the stars.
The once-cozy festival atmosphere shifted into something more urgent.
Vendors rushed to secure their stalls, parents scooped up their children, and couples abandoned the dance floor as the wind howled through the square.
I barely had time to process it before the sky finally broke open.
Rain crashed down in thick, heavy sheets, drenching everything in an instant. Squeals and shouts rang out as people scrambled for cover, the festival dissolving into a storm-soaked blur of movement.
Adam cursed under his breath, his arms instinctively pulling me closer to shield me from the downpour. “We need to get out of here.”