Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
SADIE
David picks the kids up right after school. I spent the morning getting waxed and my nails done, and Logan went home to get ready.
Since my nails are brand new, I chew on the inside of my cheek, my nerves getting the best of me.
Though I have no expectations of winning tonight, being nominated is still exciting.
But what really unsettles my stomach is the fact Logan will be there.
After the last few disastrous dates, I’m afraid I’m cursed.
I know Logan is nothing like those guys, but everything feels wrong.
Having a first date after having sex for weeks is weird. Having a first date at an award ceremony in a public setting where I’ll know everyone, and he’ll know no one is plain awkward.
This would be a horrible romance book. It’s something Sandy would tell me to scrap the second I told her I’m writing it.
But I’m not writing it, I’m living it. And even though none of it makes sense, it feels right. It’s probably my neglected heart getting some attention for the first time in years, but it feels fucking right.
The ring of the doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. Shit, I’m not ready yet.
Barefoot and half dressed, I make my way downstairs to let him in. The plan is to scatter right back to my room before I’m met with the sight of him in a tux.
“I-I’m not ready,” I stutter.
“That’s ok. I don’t mind waiting.” He shoots me a smile, but I’m slack-jawed. His hair is cut and his face is freshly shaven so his jawline stands out. The tux splays perfectly over his wide shoulders and broad chest. Somehow, he looks even taller than usual as he towers over me.
“For you,” he adds after my silence stretches for too long.
“Oh.” I haven’t even noticed the giant bouquet he holds in his hand. I get myself together enough to take the flowers and murmur, “Thank you.”
But when he rests two fingers on my jaw and softly presses his full lips to mine, I’m done. My insides turn liquid as his scent enters my nose, the heat of his lips burning me.
The kiss both grounds me and sends me soaring, and fuck, I’m going to miss this when it’s over. When it eventually comes crashing down. But when the kiss fizzles out, and our eyes open, I know for a fact I’m going to milk every second of it.
“Can you help zip me up?” I ask, my voice breathless.
“Of course.” He finally enters the house, closing the door behind him. In a single step, he’s right behind me. I can feel the warmth of him on my naked back, reminding me that my dress is fully open.
He grabs the end of my zipper, getting even closer, before sliding it all the way up to my neck. The move is slow and sensual, and the sound of the metal teeth interlocking reverberates in the otherwise silent room.
I’m holding in a breath that whooshes out of me when his warm lips land on the skin of my neck. The moment stretches for eternity as I’m rooted to the spot, unable and unwilling to move away from his touch.
“We should get going,” he whispers beneath my ear, and a shudder runs through me.
“I thought you said you don’t mind waiting. ”
“I don’t. But if we keep this up, we won’t be going anywhere tonight.”
He inches even closer to me, enough so I feel his hard erection rubbing on my ass. A whimper escapes me.
“I-I’m sorry. I know this is probably not the way you imagined our date going,” I say.
“Are you kidding me? Watching you in your element, being celebrated for the rockstar that you are? I couldn’t think of a better date.” He stresses his words with the press of his palms on my upper arms.
It’s practically summer, but I feel like I’m freezing, his touch the only thing that’s able to bring me heat.
It warms my body, while his words ignite my heart.
A heart that was used to David’s annoyance by another one of my award ceremonies.
To him waving off my nominations like he was used to them.
“Can I help you get ready somehow?” he asks.
“No, I just need to put my shoes on.”
“Let me.”
Gently pushing me down to sit on the steps, he kneels in front of me, taking one shoe that was placed next to the staircase. For the fifth time in five minutes, I’m stumped, so his lips turn up into a smirk while he waits for me to realize I need to lift my foot and slide it into the shoe.
His touch is feather light as he clasps the strap of my gold, heeled sandals around my ankle, before repeating the process with the other foot.
“There,” he says with a demure smile.
My breathing is slow and labored, the moment heavy and intimate, just like him zipping me up.
“We should get going.”
He chuckles at me repeating his words from earlier. But he’s right. If we keep this up, we won’t be going further than my bedroom.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” he says, taking my hand in his .
“Thank you.” My cheeks tint with a blush.
He helps me into his truck, which is freshly washed.
“Wow, the car looks brand new.”
“Yeah.” He scratches his neck. “It’s usually a mess with all my tools and supplies, but I wanted to make sure your dress didn’t get dirty.”
“That was sweet of you.”
He shoots me a smile and starts the car. “So, tell me what to expect when we get there. This is my first writing award ceremony, after all.”
“Oh, you know. There will be a bunch of people in fancy clothes, most of them snobby assholes who still look down on romance authors.”
He huffs, widening his eyes at me. “Really?”
“Yup. But the others are pretty cool. And the champagne is amazing.”
Again, he chuckles. “That’s comforting. So, you’re not really a fan of these things?”
I think for a second. “Yes, and no. It’s not my favorite thing about being an author, but it’s not the worst thing to be recognized, either.”
He dips his head in understanding.
The ride to Seattle, where the ceremony’s being held, passes in a blink. The venue is a part of a fancy hotel, so the valet takes Logan’s keys as soon as he gets out of the car. Logan opens the door for me, putting out an elbow for me to wrap my hand around.
The royal blue dress I’m wearing is neither too long nor too tight, but with the heels, I appreciate the support.
As soon as we walk in, I’m met with familiar faces. Some of them elicit a warm feeling in my stomach, while some of them force me to suppress a growl. The latter is, of course, the first one approaching us.
“Todd,” I grit out with a sneer.
“Oh, Sadie. So glad to see you dipping out of the family gene pool for a date.” He looks between the two of us. “Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed. Cousin?” He points a finger at Logan, who’s not far from growling.
“Logan.” He puts his hand out. As soon as their hands touch, color drains from Todd’s face. “Not a cousin,” Logan bites out, not showing any sign of exertion from the obvious attempt to break Todd’s hand.
“My hands are my livelihood,” Todds says in a high-pitched voice.
Logan finally releases him, brushing off lint from his tux while Todd flexes his fingers to restore circulation.
“I haven’t read your books, but if this interaction is any sign, I think the world wouldn’t miss them one bit.”
Todd’s mouth parts in shock. He’s convinced his books are a God’s gift to humanity.
I press a palm to Logan’s shoulder, stifling a giggle. “I see some people I want to say hello to.”
He nods and follows along, not sparing another glance at Todd. I pick up my pace, walking in the opposite direction of Todd the Asshole. The whole way, I’m trying to keep the laugh that wants to escape hidden until we’re far enough from him.
Logan stops me. “Wait.” I turn around and notice him rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. We just got here and I’m already getting into conflicts. But I couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you. Like you’re beneath him.”
I can’t suppress my giggle any longer. It bubbles out of my mouth with a snort I’m hoping he hasn’t heard. “Are you kidding me? That was hilarious.”
He stares at me, wide-eyed, as if checking to see if this is a test. It only makes me laugh harder.
“I mean, I can throw a good verbal punch—I know that. But to see him afraid for his precious little hands, the same ones that type pretentious bullshit as if it’s the best thing anyone’ll ever read? That’s a sight that I won’t be forgetting. ”
He releases a breath before his face transforms into a smile. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t embarrass you.”
“No way,” I say and grab us two glasses of champagne. “Oh, if you’re hungry, grab what you can now. It’s a long time before dinner.”
We greet more of my colleagues—the good ones this time—finish our drinks and a couple of appetizers, then head to our seats before the official part of the night starts.
One after one, the nominees are called out and winners are announced. I clap and cheer, not expecting to be the one climbing that stage.
When my category is up, and the host reads my name, my ears barely register it. It’s not until Logan’s loud, “Yes!” as he turns to me, planting a kiss on my shocked lips, do I realize I won.
This isn’t the first award of my career. It probably won’t be the last. But as Logan cheers and whistles while I make my way to the stage to receive an award for a book that was very special and vulnerable to me, I have a feeling this will be my favorite award ever.
The host shakes my hand and gives me the small bird statue, gesturing for me to get in front of the microphone. The stage lights are harsh, and I hardly see the audience.
“I haven’t prepared a speech,” I say honestly, making the crowd chuckle.
There’s a distinct wolf whistle, which I’m pretty sure is Logan, and I smile.
“No, I’m serious. I haven’t prepared a speech, which is foolish.
I spend my days writing. And I couldn’t be bothered to spend a couple of minutes to think on what I’m going to say in case this happens.
” I pause to take a deep breath. “This was a book that taught me a lot. It was a book that cut me open and left me to bleed. And even though it’s a fluffy little romance book,” I glare at where I know Todd is sitting, “it was therapy for me. It wasn’t my plan to let you see me through it, but I’m guessing that’s what happened.
” I lift my award. “Thank you for liking what you saw.”
With tears pooling at the corners of my eyes, I make my way back to my seat, straight into Logan’s arms. He lands another heartfelt kiss on my lips before whispering, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
It’s ridiculous. I’m a grown ass woman, with a successful career. A mother of two. But hearing someone is proud of me still connects to a part of me. A vulnerable, hurt part that felt like nothing she did was good enough.
His large palm wraps around mine, squeezing it gently, and we watch the rest of the ceremony. Logan waits for me as I use the restroom, not one bit annoyed, which is also new for me.
“So, what happens now?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Same thing as before, some mingling, food, and drinks.” I stifle a yawn.
He looks at me, a gleam in his eyes. “Want to get out of here?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Come on.”
He walks faster, but my feet are killing me in these shoes. “Can we slow down?”
His head turns, and in a second, he realizes the problem. “Sorry,” he says, before bending his knees and picking me up from the floor.
“Wha—” I start to say, unsure what’s going on. Laughter bubbles out of me when I realize he’s carrying me out of the venue, bride-style. “Put me down, I can walk.”
“But you’re hurting, right?”
“Oh, you know. The price of being a woman and all that.”
“I don’t like it. Which means I’m carrying you.”
I giggle the whole time we’re waiting for the car, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.
He sets me in my seat, careful not to bump my head on the car roof.
I fidget with my little statue, still reeling from the fact that I actually won.
This little gold birdie will have a very special place on my shelves.
When I lift my head, I notice we’re not driving home. Nope, we’re parking in front of High Steaks, a small, hole in the wall restaurant I never heard anyone talk about. Anyone except for me and Sandy.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
“Eating, of course. Don’t tell me the three bites of food you had tonight were enough.”
“But how do you know about this place?”
“It’s my first time here, actually.”
“But…”
“I thought you’d want to celebrate here.”
“How did y…” He’s already out the door, making his way to my side of the car.
My mind works a mile a minute, trying to figure out what’s going on. He opens the door, in time for me to blurt out, “Acknowledgments for Love, Unexpected ?”
He dips his head, shooting me a shy but blinding smile.
“But that was years ago. And who the hell reads acknowledgments?”
He shrugs his shoulders, putting out his hand for me to take. I take it and follow him out of the car.
When Sandy and I were kids, our mom used to take us here to celebrate our successes.
Later, Sandy and I continued the tradition every time I published a book.
I mentioned it in one of my early acknowledgments, thanking her for dinner at High Steaks, just like the good old days, thinking no one is ever going to read it.
A lump forms in my throat and I try to swallow it down as we enter the place.
“You ok?” Logan asks, drawing soothing circles on my back, while we wait for the host.
“Yeah…”
“Good evening! You have a reservation?” The host greets us.
I look around, noticing it’s pretty full. It was the thoughts that counts. But Logan surprises me, saying, “Yes. Chase.”
“Great. After me, please.”
“When did you make this reservation?” I whisper to Logan.
“When you told me about the nomination. ”
“You couldn’t have known I was going to win.” I certainly hadn’t known.
He shrugs his shoulders again. “I thought a nomination was big enough to celebrate. Even if they’d be stupid enough not to pick your book.”
I come to a halt, my body refusing to move. What he’s saying. He’s not making sense. I was so used to my pride being squashed that I stopped priding myself on these things.
“Sadie, are you ok? Was this a bad idea?” His shyness turns to concern, his brow furrowing.
“No, it was a great idea. A thoughtful, perfect idea.”
The host seats us at a table in the very corner of the restaurant, handing us the menus. Logan thanks him while I’m still stuck in my head.