Page 74 of The Hometown Heartbreaker

I bit the sensitive space beneath her ear, and she moaned, writhing under me. I continued massaging her breast, squeezing and pinching until I could feel her muscles start to flutter in that telltale way. She was close, so close, and I wanted nothing more than to see her shatter.

I pressed my whole body against her, my chest slick with sweat, my mouth at her ear. “Come for me,” I commanded, voice barely more than a growl. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

She didn’t need more encouragement. Her whole body went rigid, and then she broke, sobbing my name as her canal clamped down on me with such force I almost blacked out. The sensation set something off in my chest, a lightning-strike of pure animalistic bliss, and I fucked her through it, chasing that same white-hot edge. I was right there with her, seconds away, but I needed to see her face when I went. I pulled out, spinning her roughly to face me, and lifted her onto the edge of the island again. Her lips were red, kiss-swollen, her hair a wild mess, and her eyes locked on mine as I slammed into her, deep and rough, both of us beyond words.

I came harder than I had in my entire life, so hard I saw stars, my body jerking as I emptied myself into her. I buried my face in her shoulder and let the tremors wring me out until I could barely stand. My hands went slack on her hips, but she clung to me, burying her nose in my hair, panting and shaking with the aftershocks.

It took a minute to come back to earth. We were both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. I finally eased out of her, still half-hard, and just watched her for a second, stunned. She looked wrecked—eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, chest heaving—but I’d never seen her more beautiful. There was a look on her face, something raw and unguarded, and it made my heart hurt in a way sex never had before.

It was only then that I realized what I’d done. I’d fucked her in my kitchen, in my house, the house I’d bought for us, and for the first time in years, I didn’t feel numb. I felt alive. I felt hope.

Sadie steadied herself and lifted her head, her arms still wrapped around my neck. Her legs quivered, and her lips were swollen with kisses and want. She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time, like maybe this was a different man than the one she’d left behind so long ago.

A satisfied grin lifted at the corners of her mouth.

“That was—” she began.

“Stay,” I ordered at the same time. I hadn’t meant for the single command to come out sounding so harsh. I just desperately wanted her to remain with me.

Her eyes widened slightly as her lips parted, and she sucked in a startled breath.

“For tonight,” I qualified, and her body relaxed.

Her grin returned as she agreed, “Okay.”

It was then that I realized she thought I was asking her to stay permanently, as in stay in Valentine Bay, and that had clearly horrified her to the point that her entire body froze. I tried not to let it bother me that my asking her not to leave caused the color to drain from her face and her expression to morph into horrified panic.

The truth was I did want to ask her to stay. I would get down on my knees and beg her even, if I thought that was what would make her happy. But I knew that wasn’t the case. As much as I wished that we hadn’t wasted a dozen years over a misunderstanding, I understood that she was a grown woman with an entire life that had nothing to do with me.

I might not be able to ask her for forever, but she’d agreed for tonight, and at this point, I had to take it as a win.

29

MARTHA STEWART BROKE IN

Sadie

Today was the day.

Buddy was getting discharged in a couple of hours, which meant I had just enough time to make sure everything was perfect at Shepard Farm, do a quick load of laundry, oversee the new staff, and buy two new sets of sweatpants so he’d have something to relax in besides Carhartt overalls and carpenter jeans. Then I’d be back to spring him like he was Andy Dufresne and the world outside was Shawshank, only with more apple cider donuts and fewer prison guards.

The doctors were still pushing inpatient rehab, which I didn’t blame them for, but Buddy was dead set on going straight home today, do not pass go. He’d told anyone who so much as poked their head into his room, including the janitorial staff and Edna, the volunteer who delivered the newspapers, that the only way he’d go to a rehab facility was in a body bag, because it would be over his dead body.

My phone buzzed three times while I was folding Buddy’s shirts and placing them in the downstairs guest room where he would be recuperating since he wouldn’t be able to walk up steps, the texts were all from Dawson. The first two offering, again, to go with me to pick up Buddy, the third a picture of Minnie curled up in a patch of sun in the stable next to Penny. The text beneath the photo said, “They miss you. So do I.” I ‘loved’ the photo and assured him that I could pick Buddy up on my own.

Buddy still didn’t know about what I’d been doing behind the scenes at the farm or my plans to relocate permanently to Valentine Bay. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Dawson. I wanted to tell Buddy first, I needed to see the look in his eyes, witness his unfiltered, unguarded response before I could fully commit to my plans.

Instead of telling him once more that I was fine on my own, I gave him more concrete information and messaged back:

Sadie

Discharge at 11, will update when done

After sending the message, I noticed the time, it was fifteen till. I grabbed my purse and keys to Herbie. On my way out of the house, I took one more look around. It was night and day from what I’d walked into nearly a month earlier. I wasn’t sure how Buddy was going to feel about it, but I knew I was much happier bringing him home to this.

The drive to the hospital was filled with anxiety over what the day would bring. When I finally arrived, I found a grumpy Buddy sitting on the edge of the bed in the clothes I’d brought him, with his arms crossed like he’d been waiting for hours. The TV was blaring a fishing show at full volume. A nurse I hadn’t met before was attempting to explain the new meds and discharge paperwork to him. I could see that he wasn’t paying any attention to what she was telling him.

As the person who was going to be caring for him, I, on the other hand, paid close attention and took notes. Once the release forms were signed, the nurse told us to wait there, and someone would be with us shortly.