Romance Me (Boxed Set) (50 page)

Sadie sat silent for a while, seemingly gathering her thoughts. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and steady. “I know you’re not leaving because you messed up with the special project. Your decision has to do with something much bigger.”

Good God
, Ethan thought. Theo and Sadie were either mind readers or he’d been completely transparent.

“I realize you’re worried about becoming a severe obsessive-compulsive like your mom and that’s why you chase away any woman who gets close. But I’ve done my own research, and I don’t see any signs of it in you. I know”—she broke off when he tried to speak, shushing him with a finger on his lips—“I know it’s hereditary, I know you could someday have it as severe as your mom. But I also know that only in
your
mind does this mean you can’t have a relationship.”

Her finger brushing against his lips distracted him for a moment. He watched her jaw clench, her mouth thin.

With a shake of her head, Sadie resumed speaking. “Why do you think everyone else would be destroyed by the effects of this illness just because your dad was? Did you ever stop to think that he was a weak man? That he may have been an alcoholic before your mom’s illness got worse?”

Ethan shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sadie—”

She placed her hand on his thigh, cutting him off by her action. Biting the side of her lip, she stared straight ahead, waiting a moment before speaking again. “Your dad wasn’t strong—maybe he didn’t even know how to love. It sounds like he blamed your mom for something she couldn’t help—and that he used her illness as an excuse to drink. But just because your dad was a failure at loving a person with OCD doesn’t mean that everyone else will be. You’ve allowed others to be close, to lean on you—your sister for one, Theo and Jack, also. Why won’t you let in a woman, someone who loves you? Why won’t you allow yourself to love?”

He looked down at his feet. He didn’t want to hear this—didn’t want her to try to talk him into something he’d talked himself out of a long time ago.

“This hasn’t been an easy decision for me.” He paused. “At least, it had been up until I slept with you. Walking away from you is the toughest thing I’ve ever done.”

Sadie blew out a breath of air. “The walking away part, Ethan, that’s your choice. I want you here, but I’m not going to twist your arm to make you stay. But I want you to hear me out, at least. Will you do that for me?”

He watched her face grow dewy from the heat. The humidity had done a number on her hair. Today it was close to how it looked when she was a kid—wild, puffy, a halo around her head. Beautiful. God, leaving her would create a hole in his heart he knew he’d never be able to fill.

He reached for her hand, held it, studying the faint veins. “Yes, I’ll listen,” he said.

Sadie jutted out her jaw. “For the first time ever I feel loved by someone other than my brother or my two best friends. I feel admired, respected, and cared for, like I’m held in your heart. I see myself through your eyes—a competent, intelligent, and yes, beautiful woman. I can look in the mirror and see who you see, not an ugly, skinny, dumb kid.”

She spoke passionately, moving him, forcing him to look beyond the walls he’d built. Ethan wanted to speak, wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how beautiful she’d always had been, but she plunged on.

“I can tell you,” she said, “that if you did have OCD and were with someone who truly loved you, they’d just set their clock ahead so you wouldn’t be late going to the movies if you had to count to one hundred before opening the door. They’d keep hand sanitizer in their purse, and would leave rulers strategically placed around the house so you could measure the lengths of the blinds.”

He sat stunned by what she’d said. He’d never thought about someone else compensating.

“From the little I know of OCD,” she continued quickly, “I don’t think you have it. But even if you did, I love you enough, value you enough, and think highly enough of you that I’d risk all to be with you. And if that means I’d have to get a bigger purse to carry around hand sanitizer and a ruler, I’d do it.”

Ethan knew he was squeezing her hand too tight, but he felt frozen. Sadie didn’t know what she was saying, couldn’t understand what she offered. “I know you think that now,” he said. With his throat constricted, it was difficult to get the words out. “But if it starts happening, you’ll feel differently. I won’t risk putting you through that.”

“Don’t think for me, Ethan. Don’t decide for me which risks I’m going to take. Don’t you dare tell me what I’m capable of handling.” She reached over and grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to hers. “You told me once to believe in myself, but it’s hard to take advice from someone who won’t believe in his own value as a person—flawed
or
perfect. But I did listen to you. I did take your advice.”

Her fingers stroked his temple, easing the wrinkle between his brows. “I looked to you to save me when the festival was floundering. Because you taught me to believe in myself, this time I looked to myself to solve the problem.”

Sadie stood. She handed him the folder she’d been looking at a few moments before. “This is for you. If you change your mind about leaving the directorship after you read this, let me know. If you’re still determined to ‘save’ me from a life I see as beautiful and you see as potentially flawed, there’s nothing I can do besides let you go. You leaving the festival, leaving me, isn’t what I want—by no means. But I want more to see you happy. I really, truly want to see you happy.”

He watched her walk away, his chest squeezing tight, like iron gates closing over his heart. The muggy heat muffled the thud of the heavy door. When he realized he could still smell the lavender of her hair, he swore. It should never have been this way.

***

It wasn’t until later that evening that Ethan read Sadie’s report. He’d finished a lonely meal of grilled salmon, salad, and steamed broccoli, and had settled down on his porch swing with a glass of California cabernet sauvignon and Sadie’s report.

It didn’t take long to realize what she meant when she said that this time she’d saved herself. She’d done it—Sadie had solved the amphitheater problem. Ethan let out a sharp laugh, his smile growing wider by the second. He read further, engrossed in her plan, amazed at how clever she’d been in getting around the parking problem.

There would be no parking at the site. It was that simple—
no parking
. A simple yet brilliant solution.

Sadie had petitioned the local high school to allow use of its parking lot during the summer. People would park at the high school and get shuttled to the site in cushy tour buses. The local bus company had donated four shuttle runs each performance in return for free advertising.

Ethan put the report down. He stared at the deep red liquid in his wine glass, turning it slowly, watching it catch the warm light spilling from his window. Sadie had done this—and in doing so, she’d kept alive the dream of Cameron and the others, Ethan included.

He heard something—a slight sound breaking through the cacophony of crickets and frogs. The sound came again and again, and he listened until he realized what he heard were raindrops. The heat wave had broken. A light wind brushed by, cool, carrying the strong scent of wet grass and leaves. Ethan walked to the middle of the lawn, flung his arms open, and tilted his face to receive the cool, wet drops clearing the sky, clearing the earth. Clearing his mind.

***

Sadie tried to gauge Ethan’s mood the following morning when he arrived at work. He didn’t look particularly happy, but he didn’t seem in a fury, either. Her stomach clenched. When Ethan came to stand in front of her, she felt like she would throw up. She’d been brave the day before, but somehow this morning fear had crept in.

“I have a screenplay I want you to read.” Ethan tossed a thin script on her desk.

She gritted her teeth. She’d bared her soul to him yesterday, all but proposed to him, and now all he could do was to toss scripts at her as if nothing had happened?

“I’m busy,” she snapped out, looking back down at the other screenplays she’d been reading before he’d invaded her space.

“I’d like you to read this one, though.”

“I don’t have time. Put it at the bottom of this pile.” Sadie motioned to the stack, at least twenty high. Ethan could just bite her skinny hiney if he was going to order her around.

Strike that, she thought. She shouldn’t think about Ethan biting her anywhere—it always got her all worked up, and that was the last thing she needed.

“I really need you to read this now,” he replied.

She sighed. Was this some new game he was playing? Ignore declarations of love and boss her around?

“No.”

“Damn it, Sadie! You are one hell of a twerp, you know that?” Ethan’s explosion caught her off guard. “Would you
please
just read the thing?”

She could tell he was doing his best to calm himself down—his fingers were flying through his hair, twirling a lock on high speed. Her heart softened, and she snatched up the script. “Fine, I’ll read it, since it obviously means so much to you.” Setting herself down on the couch, she fanned the pages, realizing there were only a few.

“Who wrote this?” she asked.

Ethan leaned against the credenza, facing her. “A new local playwright,” he mumbled.

When she saw the title,
Wrapped in a Box
, she shot him a look. Ethan stared back, wearing an inscrutable expression. She flipped to the first page and began to read.

It didn’t take long to finish. Once done, Sadie sat silent and immobile, every bone in her body frozen in place. Willing her eyes to work, she sought out Ethan. He stood in front of her, arms folded, ankles crossed, chin tucked to chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee?” she asked.

“Didn’t think I had to. Thought writing it was the equivalent.”

Sadie hitched a breath. “There’s no ending written—the play stops after the main character asks his question.”

He nodded. “I meant this to be a collaborative project. The ending is yours to write.”

A sob began to build in her throat. “Can I write in a couple of kids?”

Ethan let out a sharp laugh. “You can write in a white picket fence, for all I care. But not a golden retriever. I hate those dogs.”

She hiccupped the sob away, then gazed long and hard at the script, watched a tear fall on it, running the ink. With precise motions, she stood and walked to Ethan, coming to a stop in front of him. “I hate them, too. So big and fluffy, with dumb expressions on their faces.”

Reaching out, she ran a hand down Ethan’s face. He looked so perfect, a delicious mix of strength and vulnerability. She knew the work he’d done to reach this point, to be able to let go of the past and realize hope for the future. She grabbed him by the wrists, unwrapped his arms from their crossed position, and placed them around her waist, sinking into his embrace.

“The ending only needs one word,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck.

“What word is that?”

“Yes.”

In an instant, Ethan swept Sadie up into his arms and crossed the office space in a few short steps. He dropped her onto the couch, then followed her body with his, pressing his weight, his heat, onto her, melding with her as he took her mouth with his. The kiss spiraled her upward, sending her into the velvety blackness of the universe. She was hovering, halfway between reality and ecstasy, when he pulled his mouth off hers to speak.

“I love you, Sadie.” The words came out jagged, raw. “I never believed I could have love, but I found it in you. And I’ll never stop believing.”

Her eyes filled with tears. He loved her, and she believed him—believed
in
him.

Believed in them.

Believed in forever.

Epilogue

Sadie’s entire body tingled. A strange lightheadedness swept over her. She looked down at her four-inch heels, the toes just peeking out from underneath the hem of her dress, making sure her feet were still under her. She shifted. The light in the family room of The Cottages sent warm, glowing tones over her dress, making the white silk appear brushed with iridescent gold dust.

“How’s my ass look in this tux?” Theo asked Chessie, pulling up his tuxedo jacket to show off his rear. His comment earned him a quick smack from Chessie, but sent Sadie laughing.

Outside by the cabana, a harp and violin sounded the first hauntingly beautiful notes of the processional. With a flourish, Theo kissed the top of her head, then grabbed Chessie’s arm and hauled her off through the patio door to a petal-strewn path. Fortunately for Chessie, she’d slipped off her shoes earlier, or else Theo’s euphoric pace would have knocked her off her feet.

Lia moved to stand beside her for a moment. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered, entwining her hand in Sadie’s, bringing a brilliant smile to her friend’s face.

“C’mon.” Jack’s low voice sounded as he pulled Lia from Sadie’s side. “Time for us to go.” Lia eagerly grabbed his arm. Sadie noticed Jack’s gentle and loving smile as he bent low to whisper something in Lia’s ear.

And suddenly Sadie was alone. Tingles twirled around inside her tummy. Outside, her family and friends waited. Her parents sat in the front row—her mother sorely disappointed Sadie had chosen not to have her hair professionally styled, and her father too busy checking emails on his phone to notice he wasn’t needed to walk his daughter down the aisle. But she’d wanted to walk to Ethan by herself—her strong, independent self.