I want to be the reason she smiles. I want to be the one she tells her secrets to at two in the morning, tangled up in the bedsheets together. I want to watch her laugh at my brothers’ terrible jokes and argue with me about song lyrics and hold my son’s hand and sit with me at every table, every day, for the rest of my life.
I want it all.
And I want it so badly it scares the hell out of me.
Chapter 19
Lovesick
WALKER
After dessert, Dad pushes back from the table and announces he's taking Sadie and Jonah down to see the horses before it gets dark.
The sun is barely hanging on outside, at war with the moon and the first evening stars. It's past eight and the sky is caught on that long amber burn that refuses to quit, painting everything gold and rust.
I hang back on the porch with my brothers, beer in hand, watching Dad lead Sadie and Jonah toward the paddock. Jonah has his hand in Sadie's again.
Slade settles on my left. Tanner takes up my right.
The silence lasts about four seconds.
“You are so fucked,” Tanner says, and has the temerity to laugh about it. “You haven't taken your eyes off her all night.”
I don't take my eyes off her now either. “She's a lot nicer to look at than your uglymugs.”
“Yeah,” he agrees easily. “So was Isabella. And I never once saw you moon over your ex-wife like a lovesick fool.”
I cut him a look.
“Don't worry though,” he adds, almost gentle underneath the teasing. “Sadie’s got the same look on her face when she watches you. Just a prettier version of it.”
“She does?”
“Mm-hm.”
There's no way that's true. I've been paying attention. I would have noticed.
“She's smart enough to save it for when she knows you're not looking,” Tanner says, grinning now.
I look back toward the paddock. Sadie is reaching out to let one of the mares nibble an apple from her hand, and Dad is chattering her ear off, and Jonah is pressed against the fence rail vibrating with happiness.
The last of the sun catches her hair and turns the copper to pure fire.
Slade says, “How long you plan to carry on like this? Pretending you're not already gone on her?”
I don't bother denying it. There's no point with these two.
“Until the end of summer,” I say. “That's when she leaves. New job in New York. New life.” I take a pull of my beer. “So that's how long I plan to carry on.”
They exchange one of their looks over my head. I ignore it.
Sadie comes back up to me then, cheeks gone pink in the summer evening heat. “Where’s the restroom?” she asks me.
“Follow me,” I say. “I’ll show you.”
I lead her down the hallway and wait in the living room for her. But my footsteps end up leading me to another room off the side. The music room. The baby grand piano I grew up playing is still there, walnut wood lovingly polished to a high shine.
As if waiting for someone to play.
