They made their way back through the courtyard door into the warmth of the pub, and his hand remained on her back, sending a jolt along her spine. Maggie directed them to a corner table away from curious glances before disappearing into the back to retrieve a first aid kit.
“What are you doing here?” she asked softly as she settled into one of the chairs.
He pulled out a chair beside her, seating himself before answering. She noticed he angled himself so he could see both her and the door, leaning close enough that only she could hear him.
“Maggie called,” he told her, his voice calm though the crease in his brow hinted at what he was truly feeling. “She said she had a bad feeling about some man who’d been asking for you.”
“You came because Maggie had a feeling?” she asked, her brows raising.
She saw a blush creeping up his cheeks, and he sat back in the chair, clearing his throat. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer her question, that perhaps she had pushed too far. Her shoulders started to curve inwards as she prepared to apologize.
“I came,” he began, his eyes finally meeting hers once more, “because after everything you’ve told me about him, I needed to be sure you were alright.”
The simple honesty of his words sent warmth blooming in her chest; this time, her own cheeks burned with a blush. Tears welled in her eyes, and she did her best to blink them away before he noticed. When she had recovered enough to trust her own voice, she reached across the table to place her hand on his. She saw his eyes drop. That now familiar spark ran through her, and she welcomed the feeling.
“I’m glad you came,” she whispered, and his gaze snapped back to hers, the crease between his brow finally easing.
Maggie appeared with her first aid kit, and Sadie pulled her hand back. She didn’t miss Maggie’s quirked eyebrow or the little smirk on the other woman’s face as she looked from her to Corbyn.
“Right then, let’s have a look at this,” Maggie said, carefully cutting away the torn fabric. Her face fell, and Sadie held her breath, knowing that wasn’t a good sign. “Oh, love, this needs a doctor. There’s still glass in the wound… you’ll likely need stitches.”
“I’ll call Ellie,” Corbyn said immediately, already standing and reaching for his phone. “She can meet us at the estate.”
“It’s late… I don’t want her making a trip just for me,” Sadie protested, but she fell quiet when he placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Ellie won’t mind. In fact, she’d be furious if I didn’t call her for something like this,” he told her, lips lifting in a comforting half-smile. “I’d rather not have to face her wrath for the next several weeks.”
“He’s right, love,” Maggie chimed in. “I’ll clean and bandage this as best I can, but you’d better let Ellie take a look.”
Corbyn stepped away, phone already to his ear, while Maggie cleaned the wound as best she could without disturbing the large piece of glass. Sadie hissed at the burn of the antiseptic, and Maggie murmured her apologies as she worked. She wasjust finishing the bandage around Sadie’s arm when Corbyn returned.
“Ellie will meet us in an hour,” Corbyn said firmly, in a tone she had learned meant there would be no reasoning with him. “She said to try to make some sort of sling to keep her arm elevated.” Maggie nodded, heading over to the bar, her head disappearing as she began looking for something underneath. Corbyn shifted, rubbing the back of his neck before adding, “And I think it would be best for you to stay at the house for at least the next few days.”
“That’s excessive,” Sadie insisted, hating that they were fussing over her like this. She looked down at the bandage on her arm, wanting nothing more than to go to bed and wake up to find it was all a bad dream. “I’m fine right here.”
“And what if he comes back?” Corbyn countered, and a heavy sigh left Sadie’s body. “You got lucky tonight, Reed. What would have happened if no one knew what was going on?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, you should listen to him, love,” Maggie chimed in, a scarf thrown over her shoulder. Sadie’s eyes widened, realizing that she was outnumbered. Maggie gently positioned her injured arm and began creating a sling from the scarf as she continued, “I’d sleep better knowing the tosser can’t get to you again.”
Her eyes began to prickle, and she had to look away while Maggie tied the scarf behind her neck. She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to let the tears of frustration overwhelm her. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor and a large, warm hand covering hers had her closing her eyes for a moment. She took a slow, measured breath before finally meeting Corbyn’s eyes.
“After what just happened, you could use someone watching your back,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. The action had her sucking in a quick breath, but it was hisfollowing request that set her heart pounding. “Sadie, please don’t fight me on this.”
In all their time together, he had never called her by her first name. It had always been Reed, even in those moments when all the lines seemed to blur. The way he was looking at her now, like she was someone precious, someone he would do anything to protect, made the last of her defenses crumble to dust.
“Okay,” she whispered, managing a tiny smile.
“Good,” Corbyn said, relief evident, and she felt his hand squeeze hers.
When the door to the pub opened, Sadie held her breath for a moment, a pit forming in her stomach. She only relaxed when she saw Fergus walk through the door alone. He made his way through the crowd, the other patrons watching with curiosity. Sadie was sure they’d be the topic of local gossip tomorrow.
“He won’t be bothering you again, lass,” he said when he reached the table, and Sadie managed a grateful smile.
“Fergus, would you grab Sadie’s things from behind the bar?” Maggie asked, then turned back to them. “You two had better get going. I’ll send someone over with a bag of your things later.”
As Sadie stood, she felt one of Corbyn’s hands land on the small of her back again, the other taking hold of her good arm as if to keep her from toppling over. She took a breath, ready to insist she didn’t need help, that she could pack her own belongings, but the look on his face had her falling silent with another sigh. Arguing with just Corbyn or Maggie was difficult enough; the two of them on the same side would be impossible.
“You take care of yourself,” Maggie said, giving Sadie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Then, she fixed Corbyn with a stern look. “And you, Mr. Pearce, you look after her, you hear?”
