Chapter 14 Axel #2
I sense there's more to the story, but I don't push. Instead, I tell her about the brewery, how my parents started it in our garage, how it grew into what it is today, what it means to carry the Slade name.
"That's a lot of pressure," she observes, picking at a thread on the blanket. "Living up to the family legacy."
"Sometimes," I admit. "Everyone expects me to be as business savvy as Trent or as serious as Tyler. They forget I'm not…"
"Not what?" she asks, shifting slightly closer. Our knees brush, and I feel that simple contact sharp and immediate.
I take a breath, surprised at how much I want her to understand this.
"I'm not the guy who always has the right answer or the perfect plan. I'm the one who makes everyone laugh when tensions get high, who smooths things over when my brothers clash. The family peacekeeper."
She studies me, really studies me, like she's seeing past the easy charm for the first time. "That's not nothing, you know. Being the heart of a family."
"Try telling my dad that." I smile to soften the words. "Don't get me wrong, he loves me. But there's a difference between being loved and being taken seriously."
"Is that why you joined the business? To be taken seriously?"
Her question cuts closer to the bone than I expected. I reach for my drink, needing a moment.
"Partly," I admit. "But also because… it's home. The brewery, the Slade name, it's who we are. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."
Sadie nods, her shoulder relaxing against mine. "I get that. Finding your place."
"The café is that for you, isn't it?" I ask.
"Yes." She pulls her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. "It's the first thing that's ever been truly mine. Something I built, something stable."
The sun dips lower, painting her in gold. She's let her guard down, just enough to show me these small, precious pieces of herself. I want to gather each one carefully, like collecting rare stones.
"Tell me something real," I say softly. "Something you haven't told anyone else."
She hesitates, then turns to face me. Our knees are touching again, and this time neither of us moves away.
"I'm terrified," she whispers. "Not just about the hearing. About everything. I wake up every morning with this knot in my chest, wondering if today's the day it all falls apart."
I reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And yet you get up anyway. Keep going. That's courage, Sadie."
"Or stupidity," she says with a half smile.
"No." My hand settles at the back of her neck, thumb tracing small circles against her skin. "It's strength. The real kind."
Her eyes darken at my touch, pupils dilating slightly. The air between us shifts, grows heavier. Her lips part, and I want nothing more than to taste them again.
"Axel," she breathes, and the sound of my name in her mouth is almost my undoing.
I lean forward, closing the final inches between us. Our lips meet, and Sadie's mouth opens beneath mine with a soft sigh that sends want flooding through me.
Her hands grip my shoulders, fingers digging in as I deepen the kiss. I slide my hand to the back of her neck, cradling her head as I taste her, coffee and cider and something uniquely Sadie.
She shifts and she’s all but straddling me.
My cock aches, hard as stone. I grip the back of her neck, forcing myself to breathe, to keep control.
I could take her right here, lose myself in her—but I won’t.
Not unless I can do it right. I rest my forehead against hers, dragging in air.
Every muscle is locked, holding me back from devouring her.
"You have no idea what you do to me," I whisper against her lips. My voice comes out rougher than I intend, gravelly with restraint. "I'm trying so hard to be good right now."
Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide when she looks at me. "What if I don't want you to be good?"
Jesus. I close my eyes, fighting for control.
"Trust me, there's nothing I want more than to lay you down right here." I brush my lips against her jaw, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my touch.
"But not like this. Not rushed."
"Axel," she breathes, and the sound of my name in her mouth is almost my undoing.
"You make me so fucking hard," I admit, my lips at her ear now. "Have since the first time I saw you behind that counter."
She shudders against me, a small whimper escaping her throat. I'm about to kiss her again, my control hanging by a thread, when her phone blares from her pocket.
Sadie jerks back, startled. When she pulls out her phone, her face drains of color. "It's Rowan."
She answers immediately, and I watch as her expression shifts from confusion to stark terror in seconds.
"What?" Her voice rises sharply. "How high? When did—" She's already standing, gathering her things with frantic movements. "I'll meet you there. Yes, now."
"What's wrong?" I ask, getting to my feet.
"Poppy's sick. High fever, came on suddenly." Her hands shake as she tries to stuff the blanket back into the picnic basket. "Rowan's taking her to urgent care. I need to go."
"We're going," I say, taking the basket from her trembling hands. "I'm driving."
"You don't have to."
"Now," I say firmly, already guiding her toward the truck. "Which urgent care?"
"Mountain View on Palmer," she says, climbing into the passenger seat. "God, I'm so sorry about this. You should just take me back to my car and—"
"Stop." I reach over and squeeze her hand once, firm and steady. "This is your daughter. Nothing else matters."
The fight leaves her body all at once. She nods, gripping my hand like it's a lifeline.
I drive faster than I probably should, taking corners with precision. Sadie sits rigid beside me, her breathing shallow and quick. Every few seconds she checks her phone, as if willing Rowan to update her.
"She's going to be okay," I tell her, keeping my voice calm and certain.
"You don't know that," she whispers, but I can tell she needs to hear it anyway.
"Kids get fevers. They spike fast and come down just as quick."
"Poppy never gets sick," Sadie says, staring out the windshield. "She's never been to a doctor except for checkups."
I reach over and take her hand again. This time she latches on immediately, her fingers cold against mine. I don't let go until we pull into the urgent care parking lot.
Inside, the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over everything. Rowan spots us immediately, standing from a chair in the waiting area with Poppy bundled in her arms. The baby's face is flushed, her eyes glassy with fever.
"Mama," Poppy whimpers, reaching for Sadie.
Sadie rushes forward, taking her daughter and pressing her face into Poppy's curls. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
"They're taking us back in a few minutes," Rowan explains, her voice tight with worry. "Her fever hit 103.2."
"Did you give her Tylenol?" Sadie asks, swaying gently with Poppy in her arms.
"Yes, about twenty minutes ago. It hasn't kicked in yet."
I step forward, noticing the clipboard Rowan's holding. "Is that the intake form?"
Rowan nods, looking slightly surprised to see me there. "I've filled out what I know—but Sadie needs to complete it."
"I'll take it," I offer, holding out my hand. "You two focus on Poppy."
Rowan hesitates for just a moment before handing me the clipboard. I scan the form quickly, insurance information, medical history, current symptoms. I grab a pen from the front desk and sit down to complete what I can.
When a nurse calls Poppy's name ten minutes later, Sadie looks up with such raw fear in her eyes that something in me twists.
I stand immediately.
"Want me to come back with you?"
She nods, relief washing over her face. "Please."
The examination room is small, barely fitting the four of us.
The nurse takes Poppy's temperature again, still 103, and asks a series of questions that Sadie answers in a voice that's remarkably steady despite her obvious panic.
I stand slightly behind her, one hand resting lightly on her back, letting her know I'm there.
The doctor arrives shortly after, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes who examines Poppy thoroughly. I watch Sadie's face as the doctor checks Poppy's ears, throat, and chest. Her jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching.
"It's an ear infection," the doctor finally announces. "A pretty severe one, which explains the high fever. We'll start her on antibiotics right away."
Sadie's shoulders sag with relief. "Just an ear infection? You're sure?"
"Positive," the doctor says with a reassuring smile. "Very common in children her age. The antibiotics will kick in within twenty-four hours—and the fever should come down soon with medication."
As the doctor writes out prescriptions and care instructions, I slip out to the waiting room. There's a small café area near the entrance, and I grab bottled water, juice, and a few packaged snacks. When I return, Rowan is sitting alone in the waiting area.
"Where are they?" I ask, handing her a water.
"Still getting the prescription," she says, accepting the bottle. "Thanks for this. And for driving her here."
I shrug. "Of course."
Rowan studies me for a long moment. "You know, when Sadie first mentioned you, I was skeptical."
"I noticed," I say dryly.
Her lips quirk up slightly. "Can you blame me? My sister's been through a lot."
"No, I can't blame you at all." I sit down beside her. "I'd be the same way if it were my sister."
"But you've been…" She pauses, seemingly searching for the right word. "Good for her, I think. I haven't seen her let anyone in for a long time."
Before I can respond, Sadie emerges with Poppy in her arms. The baby looks drowsy now, her head resting on Sadie's shoulder. The flush in her cheeks isn't quite as bright.
"The fever's starting to come down," Sadie tells us, relief evident in her voice. "They gave her something stronger here."
"That's great," I say, standing. "I got some water and snacks for the ride home."
Sadie looks at me with such naked gratitude that it almost hurts. "Thank you," she says softly. "For everything."
I brush a hand lightly over Poppy's curls, then rest it briefly on Sadie's shoulder. "Let's get you both home."
The drive back is quiet, Poppy sleeping in Sadie's lap. Occasionally, Sadie strokes her daughter's hair or checks her forehead with the back of her hand. I keep the radio off and drive as smoothly as possible, avoiding bumps and taking turns gently.
When we reach her apartment, I insist on walking them up.
Poppy stirs only slightly as Sadie carries her inside and lays her in her crib.
I wait in the living room, giving them space for this private moment.
Through the partially open door, I can see Sadie leaning over the crib, whispering something I can't hear.
The tenderness of the moment catches in my throat.
I sink onto the couch, suddenly aware of how drained I am. The adrenaline that carried me through the urgent care visit is ebbing, leaving me hollow and tired. I can only imagine how Sadie feels.
When she finally emerges, quietly closing Poppy's door behind her, the exhaustion is written across every line of her body. Her shoulders slump, the worried crease between her brows finally relaxing. She moves toward me like she's wading through water, each step heavy with fatigue.
"She's sleeping," Sadie whispers, collapsing beside me on the couch. "The fever's down to 100.2."
"That's good," I say, keeping my voice low. "Doctor said it would keep dropping."
She nods, leaning her head back against the cushions. In the dim light of the living room, I can see the shadows under her eyes, the way her hands still tremble slightly.
"I'm so sorry about ruining our date," she says, eyes closed. "That wasn't exactly how I pictured the evening going."
I reach over and take her hand, threading our fingers together. "It wasn't ruined. I got time with you. That's the whole point."
She turns her head to look at me, surprise flickering across her face. "Most guys wouldn't consider an urgent care visit a successful date."
"I'm not most guys," I tell her, squeezing her hand gently. "And seeing you with Poppy, how fierce you are, how completely you love her, that's not something I'd trade."
Her eyes fill with unshed tears, and she blinks rapidly.
"God, I'm a mess. I was so scared."
"I know." I pull her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "But you handled it perfectly. You were so calm for her."
"I wasn't calm inside," she admits, resting her head against my shoulder. "I was terrified."
"That's what makes it brave." I press my lips to her hair. "Being scared and doing it anyway."
We sit like that for a while, her body gradually relaxing against mine. I can feel her heartbeat slowing, her breathing becoming deeper and more even. For a moment, I think she might have fallen asleep.
Then she shifts, turning her face up to mine. "Thank you," she whispers. "For being there. For driving. For all of it."
The gratitude in her eyes undoes me. I brush my thumb across her cheek, then lean down and press my lips to hers. The kiss is gentle at first, a comfort, an acknowledgment of what we've been through tonight.
She melts against me, her body pressing flush. I feel the heat of her, the way she responds. My hands tighten on her waist. Every second I don’t push her down and take what I want is a fucking miracle.