Chapter 9
NINE
Hart
Me
Hey, beautiful. It’s Lockhart.
Sadie
Took you long enough to text me. A whole day? I expected more from you …
Me
I just got your number last night.
Sadie
And I’m just playing with you.
Me
I want to see you.
Sadie
So soon?
Me
I can’t think of a single reason not to. Unless you’re sore. That I can accept. Although I’d still want to see you. I just don’t know if I could keep my hands off you. Or if you told me the world of social media was keeping you too tied down and you didn’t have a night to come up for air.
Sadie
LOL. It does keep me busy, as I’m sure hospitality keeps you busy, but, no, I can make time.
As for the other part, I’m sore-ish. But not enough to stop me from seeing you.
Me
I must not have been hard enough on you.
Sadie
Ha! But I asked for it—and, no, you weren’t, LOL.
Me
Shit, Sadie. Then just wait until next time. I won’t be kind to her at all.
Sadie
Oh, I’m waiting, and I’m more than ready.
Tell me the plans. Drinks? Dinner? Or are you taking me straight to bed?
Me
Food usually comes first, except in your case. We can’t seem to ever make it that far. I think it’s time I change that.
Sadie
Does that mean you’re taking me to a restaurant?
Me
How about you come to my place? I don’t want to be too far from a bed …
Sadie
I like this idea.
Me
Saturday night. 7 p.m. I’ll send you my address the day of.
Sadie
Are you sure you can wait that long?
Me
It’s going to be hard … I can’t lie.
Me
One more night.
Sadie
You have a countdown going—I like it.
Me
I just really fucking want you.
Sadie
I might want you too—you know, just a tiny bit.
Me
We’re not going to make it through dinner, Sadie.
Sadie
Not at this rate, no.
Me
Let’s make a promise to each other. No touching, not even kissing, until we’re done with dessert.
Sadie
Dessert? That’s quite the commitment. The main course, I get. But the dessert could come thirty minutes after, maybe longer. You’re sure you can hold off that long?
Me
Fuck no.
Sadie
You still want to make that deal then?
Me
Yes.
Sadie
LOL. What are we betting?
Me
I’ll give you anything you want. The reward is meaningless.
Sadie
Anything?
Me
Anything.
Sadie
You’re dangerous, Lockhart.
Me
I think you like that about me.
Sadie
I’m staring into my fridge, wondering what I should bring tomorrow night. Any ideas?
Me
I wouldn’t bring a new pair of panties. I’m starting quite the collection.
Sadie
Sigh. You’re the reason I’m running low.
Me
I’ll buy you hundreds of pairs, don’t worry.
Sadie
It would be interesting to see what you picked out. Color, fabric, that kinda thing. What are your favorites?
Me
Are you asking out of curiosity or because that’s what you’re going to show up in?
Sadie
Both.
Me
I like you in red. The bright red you wore to the sushi restaurant.
Sadie
Fabric?
Me
The lace was cool. It hints at what I want to see, and it makes me work for it.
Sadie
So interesting. Now, back to what I’m bringing. Wine? An appetizer? Dessert?
Me
I’ve got it all covered. You’re good.
Me
Twelve hours. Now, that’s a countdown I can handle.
Sadie
I’m not going to lie—it’s gone by rather slow.
Me
Don’t remind me.
Sadie
You’re texting me at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. Are you telling me you’re an early bird?
Me
Are you? You’re awake. LOL.
Sadie
No. Not even close. I’m a grump in the morning. The only reason I’m not sleeping is because I forgot to silence my phone and your text woke me.
Me
Fuck, I’m sorry.
Sadie
Don’t be. I love waking up to a text from you. And I want to talk.
She wanted to talk. She probably meant through text, but I wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity, so I hit the button to call her and held the phone up to my ear.
She laughed as she answered, and I could hear the morning thick in her voice.
“You took those words literally, didn’t you?”
“That, and I really wanted to hear what you sounded like when you first woke up. That chance was stolen from me before.”
She let out a moan. “Are you a romantic, Lockhart?”
“You want the honest answer? ”
“Always.”
“I don’t know. I never get far enough to even test it out. I’m usually gone before the sun rises. But this morning, I wanted you in my bed. I wanted you in my arms. And when you said you wanted to talk, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity of knowing your sounds.”
As I walked into the kitchen to make some pre-workout carbs, I glanced through the hallway of windows, the sun hitting my face as it peeked through the clouds.
“Do you know what else I’m craving to know about you?”
“Tell me.”
“To see how soft you look in the morning.”
Her laugh was gritty. “Soft?”
“Your skin. Your smile. The feel of you against me—all things that I assume are extremely soft.” I stopped in front of the coffee maker. “I suspect you look different in the morning than you do at night. I don’t mean because of the lack of makeup. I mean because dawn makes everyone a bit more vulnerable. I want to know how that vulnerability appears on you.”
She sighed. “God, you are a romantic.”
I positioned the cup and hit the button for one shot. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No. It’s a very, very good thing. It just means I’m going to be a heaping pile of goo. All the time. Like I am right now.”
“Even in the morning?”
“Ugh. A tough task, but you just did it, so it’s possible.” Her tone backed up her words.
“What’s your beef with mornings?”
I could hear the rustle of sheets as she said, “I tend to stay up late—sometimes working, sometimes not—so when my alarm goes off, it feels like I haven’t gone to bed yet, even if I’ve gotten six or so hours of sleep. It takes me a while to pump myself with enough caffeine to get going.”
“Social media never sleeps.”
“It truly doesn’t.”
I held the shot of espresso to my lips. “Are you a coffee drinker?”
“Coffee, followed by a late morning energy drink, and I’m not opposed to an afternoon latte either.”
I chuckled. “That’s one hell of a caffeine dose.”
“When I said it takes a lot to get me going, I wasn’t kidding. Where does your love of mornings come from?”
I left the cup on the counter and popped a piece of sourdough bread into the toaster. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a love. I would call it a routine. I get up early to work out. I don’t have it in me to do the afternoons or evenings, and since I have a home gym, it’s easiest to get it done and go to work.” I scratched my bare chest. “The earliness carries over into the weekends. Shit, I wouldn’t even know how to sleep in past six.”
“Ugh.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t wake you tomorrow morning—but if, at any point, you’ve questioned whether you’re staying the night, the answer to that is yes.”
Her laugh was small but powerful. “I figured.”
“Back to what I was saying. I won’t wake you unless you want me to. Or unless you want breakfast. In that case, I’ll serve it to you in bed.”
“In bed?”
“Of course.”
The air she exhaled was filled with pleasure. “Hands down, the sexiest thing a man has ever said to me. So is the thought that you can cook.”
“Listen, I’m not the best cook I know—that spot is reserved for a few of my family members—but I can hold my own in the kitchen.”
“Same. I’ll never be as good as my mother, but I can also hold my own.”
I took out the bread and went to the pantry to grab peanut butter and honey, along with some dates. “You’re going to get a taste of my cooking tonight.”
“I can’t wait.” I could hear her smile.
I set everything on the counter, and since I didn’t believe in speakerphone—the most annoying setting ever made—and I needed both hands to finish this breakfast, I said, “I’m going to let you go back to bed. I’ll see you tonight, gorgeous.”
“See you soon.”
Sadie
Let’s say I was going to ignore what you said and bring a dessert. Is there a flavor you’re dead set against?
Me
Ah, she’s awake and caffeinated.
Sadie
LOL. I’m two coffees AND an energy drink deep.
Me
Jesus. Are you all right?
Sadie
You mean, am I on the verge of a heart attack? Nope. I’m perfectly good, I promise.
Me
Good. I don’t want you dying on me, Sadie. Not when things are just getting started …
Sadie
I like the sound of that—the just getting started part, not the dying, ha ha.
Back to the flavor question. What are your hates?
Me
Lemon. Yeah, nothing lemon sounds good to me.
Sadie
Does that mean you don’t have a favorite?
Me
My favorite is the flavor that I smell on you.
Sadie
How do you make everything sound so perfect?
Me
I’m just being honest.
Sadie
So, you don’t have a favorite, and you don’t like lemon. Does that mean if I brought pineapple cupcakes, you’d eat them?
Me
The fuck?
Sadie
Ha!
Me
Is that your favorite?
Sadie
I’m a chocolate girlie, but I’m really open to everything. I wouldn’t turn down a pineapple cupcake. I’d taste it. I’d taste anything.
Me
Then bring me what you want to taste, and you can lick it off me.
I held my phone in my hand, staring at Sadie’s texts, my thumbs hovering over the screen. I never invited women to my house. The last thing I needed was every one-night stand knowing where I lived and how to get through my gate.
I didn’t enjoy chaos, and that would be a direct invitation.
But when it came to her, things had been different from the start. I didn’t know why, I didn’t know how. I just knew I wanted more.
I typed my address and hit Send, hoping tonight was only the beginning of that.
The beginning of us getting to know each other more.
The beginning of us starting something more.
And the beginning of us exploring each other’s body even more.
Within a few seconds, her response came in.
Sadie
Ohhh, you live in the Hills. Fancy. See you soon.
With Beck’s name on the screen, I held the phone to my ear and said, “I have about ten minutes to talk,” as I answered his call. “You good, brother?”
“I’m sitting on our team’s plane, waiting to take off.”
I skipped the dramatics of making an old-fashioned and poured myself a scotch, holding the tumbler not far from my mouth as I sat in my living room. “I would have thought you’d already be in New York for tomorrow’s game.”
“I should be, but the weather held us up. What do you have going on that you only have ten minutes to talk?”
Damn it, that fucking smile was sweeping across my lips.
“Sadie. She’s coming over. I don’t think I’ve told you about her.”
He chuckled. “Is she the woman from Horned?”
Since Beck had had practice and not been at the family meeting that Walker had dragged us in for, when he brought up my night with Sadie, I knew someone had talked.
“Which one of our siblings told you?”
Even if there hadn’t been a meeting, there were no secrets in this family.
“Who do you think?” he asked.
I bit my lip. “Walker.”
“Bingo.” He laughed. “Hold up. You said she’s coming over?”
“Yeah.”
“Bold move for you, isn’t it?”
I stared out the windows, looking at the homes that sat on the edge of the canyon. “The first date to ever walk through my door.”
“Jesus, Hart, who the fuck are you?”
“I don’t know,” I exhaled. “There’s something different about her. We click in a way I haven’t felt before. And she calls me Lockhart—all the rest called me Hart. There’s something about it that feels bigger. Special, I guess you could say.” I placed the drink down, my eyes closing as I added, “I like this one, Beck. A lot. And I don’t even know her as well as I want to, but, fuck, there’s just something so addictive about her.” My eyes opened. “She’s got me thinking about her nonstop, and if I’m not awake, I’m dreaming about her.”
“You’ve got it bad, my man.”
The feeling in my chest told me he was right; there was no reason in denying it.
“I think so, and what’s fucking wild is that I’ve only seen her twice. Tonight will be the third. Mix in a bunch of texts and a phone call, and this is what she’s done to me. A month from now? Shit, I can’t even imagine how I’ll be.”
“I remember when the Spade brothers all fell hard for their women. Each one going down that rabbit hole of love, and I recall what they all said to me when they talked about it.”
“And that is?” I asked.
“Sometimes, all it takes is a glance.”
“They weren’t wrong.”
“Are you saying that’s all it took for you?”
I nodded to myself and voiced, “I’m not saying I’m there yet, spiraling down that rabbit hole of love. I need time to reach that level. But I can see the entrance, and I’m open to it for once.”
“I’m happy as hell for you, my man.”
The smile finally faded, and I lowered my drink. “Enough about me. I know that’s not why you called. Talk to me. Tell me what’s up.”
“I’ll keep it simple. I’ve been thinking a lot about Horned.”
“The restaurant?”
“Yeah”—he laughed—“and that’s partly because Walker won’t shut the fuck up about it. And partly because some of my teammates went there the other night and told me how good it was. I spoke to Eden, and from the way she explained things, the restaurant is up for grabs. The Gordons don’t own it, they’re just financing it.”
“That’s right. ”
“So, what do you think?”
I blinked several times, rubbing my finger across the rim of the glass. “Are you telling me you’re interested in buying it?”
“That’s why I’m coming to you. Walker is too fucked up about it to have that conversation. I think he wants it, but I think he’s got too much on his plate, and he’s weary. When it comes to this one, Eden is indifferent, she’ll go either way, but she’ll also support whatever is decided, and she’ll help. Colson? You know him—he works to live, not the other way around. That leaves you, Hart. What the fuck should we do here?”
I hissed out a mouthful of air. “Do we need it?”
“Fuck no.”
“Even if Horned exploded, bigger than it already has, it doesn’t matter, we still don’t need it.”
“True.” He paused. “And if the Gordons buy it and turn it into something? Something like Charred?”
“Are you asking me if I’ll have FOMO?”
He chuckled. “You could say that.”
As I stared out across the canyon, there were houses I recognized. One was Beck’s. Another was Walker’s. Colson’s and Eden’s homes were close by, but they faced in a direction I wasn’t able to see from here. We shared the canyon with celebrities, other athletes, multimillionaires, and billionaires.
The Westons were doing all right.
“You know, Beck, when I walk into our corporate office every morning, I can’t believe what the hell we’ve built. The number of restaurants and clubs we own. The empire that’s now an international brand. All of it because Dad had a dream of owning his own restaurant, and that’s what this has turned into.”
“You appreciate it all—I get it. I also know there’s a but coming …”
I laughed. He knew me way too well .
That was why he had called me—because of that but .
“We have something in common,” I told him, pounding the back of my hand on the arm of the chair.
“And that is?”
“We don’t like to lose anything.”
“Just what I thought.” The eagerness was thick in his voice. “I’ll make some calls.”