Page 10 of Bad Boy Husband

SADIE

I hadn’t meant to crash Trent’s sacred guys’ weekend, but somehow, I ended up sitting at the Vaquero Golf Club, the smell of freshly cut grass mixing with overpriced sunscreen and a hint of stale cigar smoke drifting from the lounge inside.

While the guys went eighteen holes in the blazing sun, I sipped a melting daiquiri with Collins Elliott, my one remaining friend in Texas, across the table from me. We’d gone to school and she liked horses, so we had that in common, but not much else.

Honestly, I didn’t even really know why we’d kept in touch, other than that she hadn’t politely ghosted me after I’d gone off the rails.

As immaculate as ever in a white sundress, her bleach-blonde hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed hat and the diamond studs in her ears caught the sunshine, casting prisms of light every time she tilted her head.

“I just don’t get it, Sades,” she drawled, her voice dripping with soft, sweet judgment that only a true southern belle like herself could weaponize. “You had it all and you gave it up, but for what? To live in that stinky city?”

I took another slow sip of my drink before answering. “What do you want me to say, Collins? I just love the smell of wet dog and heartbreak in the morning.”

She blinked rapidly. “That’s not funny.”

“It kind of is, though,” I deadpanned. I’d always had a hard time explaining my passions to people like her, people who came from so much money that it was impossible for them to understand why I’d done what I had.

“Think about it. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to help and all I’ve got to show for it now are a broken heart and a lost cause.

That’s what I gave it up for. The cause.

To help beings who can’t help themselves. I don’t give a damn about the city.”

That last part wasn’t true. I loved San Francisco. There had been a time when I could’ve chosen any city, town, village, or hamlet in the world to be my home, but I’d chosen it. Collins would never be able to understand that, either.

Her family was and always had been ranchers. Between us and them, we owned a decent chunk of Texas and the surrounding areas.

She sighed, her green eyes flickering with exasperation as she looked back at me. “Why not just come back, then? You’re still young and you’re pretty enough. You could land someone decent. Someone who might even let you be involved with a few charities for animals. Someone respectable.”

“Define respectable,” I said, already tired of this conversation. “A man who breathes air and signs checks I can hand over to the charities he lets me be part of?”

“Exactly,” she chirped, missing my sarcasm completely. “I mean, a lot of the good ones are already taken, of course, but the best ones are always the holdouts. The ones who didn’t settle. I’m holding out for one of those too.”

Shockingly, Collins was still single. Back at school, I’d been convinced she would be married and pregnant before the ink had even dried on her diploma, but the girl had impossibly high standards. At least, that was the way she told it.

I inhaled a deep breath and turned toward the course, my gaze seeking out the group I’d come with.

As soon as they were done, we would be able to leave, and while it had been nice catching up with Collins, I had left Texas for college before the ink had dried on my own diploma precisely so that I wouldn’t have to have these conversations anymore.

Out on the fairway, Trent lined up a shot.

The sun cast a halo around his white ball cap.

Even though that should’ve told me all I needed to know about our timeline, I didn’t look away just yet.

My eyes landed on Jameson beside him. His club was resting against his shoulder, his head tilted like he was half-listening and half-bored.

Even from here, I could see his jaw tense the same way it always did when he thought too much. What are you thinking about so hard, Jamie?

Meanwhile, Collins didn’t seem to have noticed that she’d lost my attention.

She just kept going, her words running over me like lukewarm water.

“I just don’t see why you’d rather work at some dog place than marry a handsome, well-off man that can provide for you.

You could have staff to take care of your animals while you donate to the cause every so often. We could do lunch every day. Shop.”

“Lunch and shopping? Be still my heart,” I joked, taking another sip of my daiquiri. “You should’ve just led with that.”

She wrinkled her nose as if she found me distasteful but quickly recovered. “Well, if you’re serious about coming back, I hear there’s a new developer from Houston looking for a wife. Apparently, he’s very handsome.”

As if it was a reflex, I looked around the country club. It was all manicured hedges, white linen umbrellas, and polite laughter. I tried to picture myself back in this world for good.

It sucked, but I supposed this was what would be waiting for me if I accepted my fate. I would have to become the Sadie they’d all always wanted me to be. I didn’t really know what rich wives did all day while their husbands played golf.

A lot of luncheons probably. Spa days. Shopping. Smiling. Definitely a lot of smiling.

Part of me felt like I should be grateful. Most people in my financial situation didn’t have a life like this to fall back on. Another, much bigger part of me just felt a little bit sick at the thought.

Across the course, Jameson suddenly looked up and caught my eye, but he didn’t smile. One of his eyebrows twitched up though, his gaze so intent even across the distance that it was like I could hear him ask, are you okay?

Despite myself, I responded in a language only the two of us seemed to speak with a slight lift of my chin. I’m fine.

It was a lie, but he turned away as if he’d accepted it and I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. Collins drained her sweet tea, completely oblivious. She smiled at me. “What are your plans for the rest of the weekend? Come shopping with me?”

I took another sip of my daiquiri, the syrupy sweetness feeling like it was getting stuck in my throat. “Sure, why not?”

I might as well start practicing for my new career as a decorative houseplant with a ring on her finger, right?

Collins squealed in delight and I raised my glass. Fake it till you make it, Sadie. Well, either until you make it or until you’ve figured out what the hell you’re really doing here.

All little before sunset, the guys returned to the club, their caps slick with sweat. Curtis’s neck was sunburned and all of them had the smug weariness of men who’d spent the afternoon talking trash over beautiful lawns mowed by someone else.

Collins perked up like a show dog in the final round when Jameson walked in. Her cheeks flushed and it looked like she was about to start fanning herself. “Oh my Lord, you didn’t tell me that one was here. You just said Trent’s friends.”

“He is Trent’s friend.” I barely had time to get the words out before she was up, her hips swaying like a metronome as she headed directly for him.

Jameson spotted her coming and immediately turned on that smile, the lazy, devilish grin that made it very clear he knew exactly what he was doing. When she reached him, he leaned against the bar, his head tipped back as he laughed at something she’d said.

Instantly, I felt something hot and petty curl in my chest. It wasn’t like Jameson belonged to me, but I couldn’t keep my nails from digging into my palm as I watched them flirt.

Trent, completely oblivious to my pounding heart and the jealousy simmering deep within, appeared next to our table and grinned at me. “Dang, it’s good to see you back here. Walk with me for a minute, would you? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I stood and pasted on a polite smile. He led me to the other side of the bar where the rest of their group had gathered. Even though it had been a long time since I’d seen any of them, I knew most of these guys, but Trent walked up to one I hadn’t met before and clapped him on the back.

The guy turned to face me, a slow, watered-down version of Jameson’s devil-may-care grin spreading on his lips. He was very handsome, with gorgeous, glittering deep brown eyes and jet-black hair that was slightly damp and just a tiny bit tousled.

“Sadie, meet Carson Cartman,” Trent said. “He’s a family friend. The Cartmans run a fund downtown.”

Of course, he’s a hedge fund bro. I nearly planted my face in my palm, but Carson was still smiling at me and I’d been raised with manners—even if I often forgot about them.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” I offered lamely as I extended my hand toward him. “How did you do out there? Good game?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Carson drawled, his eyes locked on mine. He wrapped his fingers around my own, flashing me a hint of teeth that looked like it belonged in a toothpaste commercial as his smile widened. “It was a great game. These guys are a real hoot.”

He held on to my hand for a few beats longer and I didn’t try to pull away. I knew exactly why Trent had introduced me to him and Carson seemed better than I might’ve expected from a setup. Probably around my own age or maybe a couple years older. Good looking. Nice enough.

I didn’t feel any sparks, but I wasn’t disgusted by him either. Take the win, Sades. Just take the win.

“Are you coming to the party later?” I asked as I finally withdrew my hand. I even managed to return his smile. It was tiny, still polite, and mostly forced, but as soon as Trent saw it, he raised an eyebrow at me a little bit and dropped his chin in approval before he started moving to back away.

“I’ll let you guys chat for a few,” he said as he spun and left us alone.

As I watched him go, however, I caught sight of Jameson over Trent’s shoulder. The flirty, teasing smile he’d just been giving Collins was gone. So far gone that it was difficult to believe it had been there at all just a minute ago.

Instead, his jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the back of Carson’s head like he was trying to light him on fire using the power of his mind. Collins was still talking to him, but he wasn’t even pretending to listen.

Suddenly, the heat in my chest felt less like jealousy and betrayal and more like fun. Two can play at this game, Jamie.

“So.” I turned my gaze back to Carson and leaned in just a little bit toward him. “Will you be coming to the party?”

“I got nowhere else to be,” he drawled, his Texas accent strong and his voice silky and smooth. “Especially if you’re going to be there.”

Whoa, there. Coming on a little strong, big guy. I could still feel Jameson watching us though, so I let my own smile relax a little and looked up at Carson as if I’d just discovered that he’d hung the moon.

“You know,” I said, “I’ve always wondered what exactly it is that hedge fund managers do. That’s what you are, right? A hedge fund manager?”

Carson stepped closer, apparently happy to explain. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jameson’s knuckles go white around his glass, and instantly, I felt better about this whole situation.

Was it petty? Absolutely, but sometimes, being petty felt like winning, and right then, I could use a little sense of victory in my life.