But Dad says, “It’s Sadie Sullivan. She was a grade below Josie in high school.”
Rafe’s dark eyes flick up at the mention of Josie’s name.
Slade still looks clueless, but Tanner’s eyes light up with recognition. “The one who’s friends with Cassidy? Red hair?”His eyes slide towards me as he clucks his tongue. “A little young for you, isn’t she?”
If looks could kill, my brother would be dead on the spot.
“She’s my employee,” I growl. “Nothing more.”
“You do special favors for all your employees?” Tanner’s white teeth flash. “Shovel the driveway for your favorite guitar tech? Take your roadie’s grandma to her podiatrist appointment?”
As I start the car up, I give him the middle finger.
“Bring Sadie to family dinner!” Dad calls out to me.
Chapter 10
Bottle Rockets
WALKER
By the time I get back to my place, Sadie’s back from dropping off Jonah at camp.
She's at the kitchen island, surrounded by notebooks and books and what looks like three different colored pens. Red hair piled up on top of her head now, a pencil tucked by her ear.
I tell myself the way my heartbeat kicks up is just habit. Not excitement at seeing her again.
She looks up. Her gaze does a quick sweep of me, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“Tires are done,” I tell her, tossing her keys on the counter.
“I’m gonna pay you back,” she says.
“No, you’re not.”
“I can. It will just take me a few months.”
“I’m not taking your money, which is just my money at this point anyway. You needed new tires in your capacity as my son’s nanny. So that means I pay for it.”
She looks like she’s waging some internal battle. But finally, she just says, “Okay.” She fishes my keys out of her pocket and hold them out to me. “Here you go.”
Our fingers brush as I take them from her. I ignore the little volt of electricity that goes through me at the contact.
“What are you working on?” I ask.
“Reading work for Jonah. A lesson plan that doesn’t feel like a lesson plan, ideally.”
“How do you design that?”
For the next ten minutes she explains it to me, and I find myself actually listening. Not the half-present listening I used to do in label meetings, nodding at the right moments while my mind is somewhere else entirely. Actually listening.
I'm also watching her lips while she talks, and taking in the copper eyelashes framing her eyes, and thinking about what I glimpsed beneath that transparent white fabric when she came wading out of the lake and…
Fuck.
Concentrate.
This is important.
