10. Sadie
Sadie
The town doesn’t follow us past the treeline.
The second Levi turns his truck off the main road and onto the narrow gravel path that winds toward his cabin, the noise fades. No more ballroom music. No more church ladies clutching pearls. No more whispers about five thousand dollars and hallway kisses.
Just pine trees, dark sky, and the steady hum of his engine.
He doesn’t speak during the drive and neither do I. The silence isn’t awkward. It’s loaded.
His jaw is tight in the glow of the dashboard lights, one hand steady on the wheel, the other flexing occasionally like he’s still replaying the night.
I watch him instead of the road.
“You’re quiet,” I say finally.
“Yeah.”
“Is that dangerous?” I ask.
“Depends.”
He turns onto the final stretch, cabin lights coming into view between the trees. His cabin is modest. Wood siding. A wide porch. Warm light spilling from the windows. The life he built without me is practical but inviting.
He parks next to my car in the driveway and kills the engine, sitting there for a second before stepping out. I follow.
The mountain air is cooler up here. Cleaner. The stars are sharper, like someone punched holes in the sky.
He unlocks the door and gestures me inside.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says evenly.
“I know.” But I walk in anyway.
The cabin smells like cedar and smoke. The living room is quiet, fire already laid in the hearth from earlier in the week. Levi’s space feels solid. Lived-in. Not lonely like I used to imagine when I was away at school.
He drops his keys on the table.
“Hot tub’s on if you want to take a dip,” he says.
I nod, noticing the faint curl of steam rising off the back deck. “You planned ahead?”
“I always do.” A faint smirk touches his mouth.
He disappears down the hall to change. I stand in the living room for a moment, tracing my fingers over the back of his couch, the wooden mantle, the framed photo of him and the firehouse crew.
There’s no evidence of a woman’s touch here. The thought makes something in my chest ache.
He returns a few minutes later in low-slung swim trunks, bare chest covered in a fine dusting of hair. My mouth goes dry. He doesn’t flex or pose. He doesn’t have to.
“You coming?” he asks.
“I don’t have a suit.” I frown.
“Your birthday suit is fine.” His eyes twinkle with the words.
My cheeks heat with the thought of being in such close proximity to him without a stitch of clothing covering me. Anticipation curls low in my belly at the thought.
“Or just your bra and panties works too.”
I nod and slip past him to the bathroom to strip down to my undergarments. When I step out onto the back deck, the steam curls around us like a secret. The mountains stretch dark and endless beyond the railing. The hot tub glows faintly under the stars.
“Everything feels a little bit magical out here tucked away in your little corner of the mountain.”
“That’s why I bought this piece of property, it feels secluded, part of the mountain. A bachelor’s retreat.”
I nod, taking in his words. “Did you think you’d always be a bachelor.”
“After you left, yes.”
I swallow, averting my eyes to the snow that still dusts the top of Devil’s Peak even though we’re well into April.
Levi steps into the hot tub first, lowering himself slowly into the water. I follow and the heat wraps around me instantly, loosening the tension in my shoulders, but tightening everything else. He leans back against the edge, arms spread along the rim, watching me.
“You’re staring,” I say.
“I always stare.”
“Subtle.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
The steam drifts between us. The night hums softly with distant crickets and wind through trees. For a while, neither of us speaks. We just sit there, inches apart, heat rising between us in more ways than one.
“You embarrassed me tonight,” I say finally.
He nods once. “I know.”
“That’s it?”
“You want me to apologize?”
“I want to know why you did it.”
He looks at the water for a moment, jaw tightening. “Because I didn’t like seeing you up there. Because I wanted to kill every man that laid eyes on you.”
“You didn’t like the bidding.”
“I didn’t like imagining someone else winning.”
“It was dinner, Levi.”
“It wasn’t just dinner.” His voice lowers slightly. “It was them thinking they had a shot.”
I hold his gaze. “And that bothered you?”
“More than I like to admit.”
“Why?”
He exhales slowly. “Because you never felt like something I could lose.”
The honesty steals my breath. “Then why did you?”
He closes his eyes briefly. “I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of not being enough.”
The vulnerability cracks something inside me.
“You were always enough,” I say quietly.
His gaze lifts slowly. “Then why did you leave?”
“Because I wanted to know who I was without you.”
“And?”
“And I found out I still wanted you.”
The silence hangs between us, heavy and charged before the distance between us disappears when he reaches out and pulls me closer. His hand settles at my waist, warm under the water.
“You could’ve come back sooner,” he says softly.
“You could’ve come get me.”
The truth stings both of us. The water ripples as I shift closer, until my knees brush his. The contact feels different tonight. Not reckless. Not fueled by jealousy or stage lights.
“I don’t want to do this halfway,” I say.
“I don’t either.”
“You don’t get to let me go again.”
His hand tightens slightly. “I won’t.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.”
The way he says it—steady, unflinching—makes my pulse spike. He brushes a strand of damp hair back from my face.
“I won’t let you go again,” he says quietly.
I hold his gaze. Something shifts in his expression. He lifts me slightly, guiding me to sit sideways across his lap beneath the water. His hands settle at my hips as the steam thickens around us.
“You sure?” he murmurs.
“Yes.”
“No pretending. No rules. No running.”
I nod. He leans in, but this kiss is different from the hallway. His mouth brushes mine carefully at first, testing. When I respond, it deepens—but not frenzied.
My fingers slide up his shoulders, feeling the solid strength there.
The years between us don’t feel heavy anymore. They feel bridged. The hot tub hums softly beneath us. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against mine. His hands slide from my hips to my lower back, pulling me closer. The heat between us builds again—but it’s grounded now.
Not desperate.
Not nostalgic.
Just two people finally choosing each other without fear.
After a while, I murmur against his lips, “I’m getting hot.”
“Is that because you’re nestled against me in just your bra and panties?”
“Yes, not at all to do with the steaming hot tub,” I giggle.
Levi lifts me out of the tub then, wrapping me in a towel before covering himself in one. The porch boards are still warm from the day’s sun when he lays me down on the wide wooden planks. He joins me, nestling me into the crook of his arm.
Our fingers brush. Linger. And then intertwine.
“You scared?” he asks quietly.
“A little.”
“Of what?”
“That this feels right.”
He turns his head toward me. “It does.”
“Yeah.”
He squeezes my hand gently.
“This time,” he says, voice low and steady, “I’m not letting fear make decisions.”
“Good.”
“And I’m not letting you build a life without me in it.”
A slow smile touches my mouth. “Bossy.”
“Committed.”
I roll onto my side, facing him.
“You sure you can handle me?” I tease softly.
He smirks faintly. “I’ve been handling you since we were sixteen.”
“Poorly.”
“Improving.”
I laugh quietly. He brushes his knuckles down my arm.
“You’re not a prize,” he says softly. “You’re a partner.”
The correction settles deep. “And you’re not my savior,” I reply. “You’re my equal.”
He nods once. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
We lie there beneath the stars, fingers still laced. And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like I’m choosing between the world and him.
I’m choosing both.
And this time—he’s choosing me right back.
His hands cascade down my damp body, fingertips pressing into my skin and then slipping under the waistband of my panties. A moment later he grips my waist and hauls me onto his hard body. My heartbeat hammers wildly as I feel his hard erection pressed against my hips.
“Can you feel what you do to me?”
“Yes, every inch.”
“Does it turn you on?”
“More than words can say,” I admit.
Levi’s touch is fire, a raging inferno that consumes my body and mind. When he touches me all sense of reason evaporates into thin air and all I want is more—more heat, more sensation, more him.
I have so little experience with men, but melting under his possessive fingertips comes shockingly easy.
I’m a certifiable tomboy. Men aren’t often on my mind beyond a passing glance, a nod or an eye roll, depending on the day, but the way Levi looks at me—like he wants to eat me—I crave it.
I feel alive when his eyes dart across my body.
I feel like a woman, something that’s hard to come by when I spend my days at a dirty firehouse consumed with work.
Levi’s eyes flick to mine and hold before his grin turns up recklessly. “I want you so badly it hurts, Hotshot.”
“Show me,” I whisper against his neck.
I feel his hand slip between us, pushing the waistband of his shorts down before his hot length is pressed against my inner thigh.
I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, already planning more than that. I slide my hand between us and take his cock in my hand. “I wanna taste you.”
A virile groan releases from his chest before his muscles slacken and his eyes flick across my face as I hover at the tip, a shiny drop of pre-cum waiting for me. “Been thinkin’ about sliding my dick past your lips since the first time you smiled at me in that firehouse again.”
A small moan escapes my throat, desire flooding between my legs, and I slide my lips down his cock. His body trembles and his hips jerk with the first touch of my mouth. The feel of him against my lips soaks my panties instantly.