Page 25 of Bad Boy Husband
SADIE
The morning of the family dinner, my nerves were absolutely shredded. My anxiety levels had skyrocketed to the point where they were beyond repair. My stomach had twisted itself into sailor’s knots.
To make matters worse, or perhaps better—I hadn’t quite decided yet—I had front-row seats to Jameson’s stress response. Intense cleaning.
The man was unstoppable this morning, a mop-wielding, wall-polishing, countertop-buffing force of nature. It wasn’t even eight, but the house was clean enough to be a surgical suite. Apparently though, it could still be cleaner.
Every time I turned around, he was either vacuuming, wiping, or staring at a speck of dust like it was staging a personal attack on him. Meanwhile, I let Jameson do what he needed to do and tried to focus my own energy on Winkle.
Heaven only knew, the old boy could use the extra care.
When I’d arrived at the shelter last night, he’d been a trembling mess, but he was already looking better. His eyes were brighter, his ears perkier, and he definitely seemed to be breathing easier. Hooch was largely unimpressed by his house guest, but he tolerated him well enough.
Of course, his version of tolerated was simply continuing to follow Jameson around and not caring about Winkle trotting after them like a living, wheezing shadow. It made me smile, watching my two worlds collide.
For just a few seconds, I even felt a little calmer, but every time I glanced at my phone, the dread that had kept me up all night came creeping back in. Worry. Trepidation. Anxiety.
So far, I hadn’t had any calls from my parents. No texts either. Trent had been blowing up my phone before, but even he had gone radio silent.
Somehow, it didn’t feel like a peaceful silence, though. It felt loaded, like that quiet, thick heaviness in the air before a snowstorm.
Tonight could go one of two ways. Everything could either fall apart or this dinner would officially set things in motion.
According to Laney, CC was already planning a wedding, which should’ve eased my nerves, but it didn’t. She was hardly the type of woman to worry about losing a few deposits. It could all still go sideways and it could happen fast.
Jameson would be facing his—potentially former—best friend for the first time since he’d found out about us.
Between Harlan and my father, who’d never quite sat around the same table, Trent and Jameson, and CC and Claira, who knew each other, but not well enough to plan a wedding together, the whole situation felt like a giant powder keg.
“Are you okay?” Jameson had paused in his frenzied scrubbing to look at me.
Those hazel eyes latched on mine, and for a beat, it felt like we truly were in this together.
Just two people trying to make the best of a supremely weird situation, but I knew I couldn’t let that lull me into a false sense of security.
“I’m fine.” I swallowed past a lump of dread that had lodged in my throat like a rock. “I’d better start looking over my options for an outfit. Laney sent me home with enough dresses to fill a boutique.”
“Probably just because she doesn’t want them crowding her closet,” he joked. “Personally, I think spending money on her is Sterling’s version of a kink. I’m just not sure she’s ever going to get around to wearing half of what he buys her.”
I smiled. “Trust me, I was in her closet just yesterday. She’s definitely never going to get around to it, but it’s cute that he likes spoiling her with gifts so much. I never thought I’d see the day Sterling Westwood actually did something like that.”
“I definitely never thought I would either, but uh…” He trailed off, suddenly scratching the side of his neck like he felt guilty about something. “You know, you don’t have to wear Laney’s clothes. If you’d like to go shopping today?—”
“No,” I cut him off quickly, my head shaking hard and fast. “Just picking a few things from Laney’s closet was more than enough for me. Thanks, though. You should just accept that you’re not marrying a shopper any more than your brother did.”
He sighed. “We’ll talk about it.”
“We just did.” I started walking away backward, smirking, and I slid my hand onto the banister by the stairs. “We talked and I feel like we’ve agreed that you’ll work on accepting that I’m never going to be that girl.”
Spinning around before he could argue, I jogged up the stairs and disappeared into the guest bedroom I’d been staying in.
It was nicer than any room I’d had since I left my parents’ house, with sweeping views of the woods surrounding the back of their property and a four-post bed pushed up against the wall.
I sat down on the mattress, half-burying myself in a pile of Laney’s dresses.
We’d sort of decided on a navy one together, but before I’d left, she’d given me a few more.
All I had to do now was decide whether tonight called for quiet sophistication or please don’t hate me .
Probably a combination of both, but I had no idea which of these designer creations said all that.
Before I’d even begun to make a decision, voices filtered up from downstairs. Male voices, deep, familiar, and threaded with the kind of tension that told me they hadn’t just popped in for coffee. Curiosity and a propensity for procrastination got the better of me and I got up.
Padding over to the staircase, I stopped and leaned against the banister, peeking between the slats like some nosy child looking for Santa.
Jameson was with Callum and Sterling, who was impossibly polished for someone who’d just arrived home from Tokyo last night.
As always, his presence was like gravity in the room, strong and unmistakable.
Callum was way more casual, dark hair ruffled like he’d been running a hand through it all morning. Surprisingly, he was cradling Winkle in his arms like he weighed nothing, his fingers stroking over the old man’s back.
Hooch was glued to Jameson’s side like a slobbery, four-legged bodyguard. I hadn’t made out any of what they’d discussed, but Sterling’s gaze suddenly flicked up as he fell silent. He caught me lurking as if he’d known I was there all along, the look in his eyes cool and unreadable.
“Good morning, Sadie,” he said before he looked back at Jameson, one of his eyebrows arching ever so slightly.
I recognized it instantly as the start of a silent conversation and I already knew I wouldn’t be able to decode it. Sighing, I straightened up, well and truly busted, and smiled at Callum when he offered me a warm, easy grin.
“Good morning,” I said, moving downstairs to join them but feeling more like an intruder than I ever had before.
“Hey, Sadie. Is this little guy yours?” Callum asked, giving Winkle a gentle bounce. “He must be. There’s no way my brother would take pity on a decrepit creature like him.”
“Yeah,” I managed, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be. “He’s just a temporary guest, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jameson asked Callum, eyebrows shooting up as he crossed his arms. “I’m taking pity on him right now, aren’t I? He’s in my house, asshole.”
“Only because Sadie brought him here,” Callum said cheerfully, completely ignoring the hard edge in his older brother’s voice. “If you went to the shelter and got him, I’ll lick the bottom of your shoe.”
“My shoes are impeccable,” Jameson retorted. “You’d have to lick the bottom of Sterling’s shoe, and I hope it’s the ones he wore at the airport and all over Japan.”
“Japan was pretty clean too,” Sterling said mildly before he looked between Jameson and me. “Congratulations, you two.”
I felt Jameson’s discomfort before I even saw the way he shifted, his lips pressing together into a thin, stubborn line. “Thanks, but you could sound happier for us.”
“I would, but I haven’t heard the story yet,” he said. “Would you guys like to come up to Napa with us next weekend? Laney said she’d love to have you and it would give us time to talk.”
“Thanks, but we can’t.” Jameson turned him down without even looking at me, and my chest tightened in response.
Why doesn’t he want to go with them?
I couldn’t read his expression, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit. Is it because he doesn’t think we’re still going to be together by then? Does he just not want me to spend any more time with his family than I absolutely have to?
While worry invaded my gut, their conversation shifted toward tonight’s dinner and a puzzle piece snapped into place in my head. Jameson definitely hadn’t just called his brothers here to say hi. They were the cavalry. The reinforcements.
“Have you still not heard from Trent?” Sterling asked Jameson, eyes sharp and focused now. “I don’t really know the guy, but I expect he’ll be your biggest obstacle tonight.”
“I know him.” Callum scoffed and shot me an apologetic grimace before glancing back at his brothers. “I’m just not the biggest fan.”
When he glanced back at me, I gave him an understanding smile.
Once upon a time, I’d thought Trent was the best thing since sliced bread.
Growing up, I’d properly idolized him, but after all this time we’d spent apart, I’d realized that there were fractures in our relationship.
We were fundamentally different. I would always love him but I’d learned to manage my expectations.
“I haven’t heard from him either,” I volunteered quietly. “At this point, I don’t even know if he’s still coming.”
Callum shifted Winkle to his other arm and frowned. “Trent’s already in town, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be here.”
“How do you know?” Jameson asked. “You just said you’re not his biggest fan, and let’s face it, you never have been. It’s not like you two to keep in touch.”
Callum snorted. “We don’t, but I ran into him at Smokies last night. That new bar downtown? There was a girl with him, too. Collins, I think? She might be coming with him. I honestly have no idea.”
The name hit me like an unexpected splash of cold water. Collins. My old friend, the true southern princess who could charm just about anyone and had spent half that guys’ weekend shamelessly batting her eyelashes at Jameson.
It shouldn’t have mattered. It really shouldn’t and yet it did. A weird sting curled hot under my ribs at the thought of her potentially joining us. W hat the hell is she doing in California with Trent?
I pushed it down, forcing a smile that probably fell flat. “It was good to see you guys, but I should get back upstairs. I have a shift at the shelter starting in a couple hours and I definitely need to get a few things done before then.”
Escaping what was sure to become an even more awkward conversation as they discussed what Jameson could expect from his father at dinner, I went back to my room and practically dove into the pile of dresses.
As much as I was annoyed at having to get all dolled up again, I would take the dresses above Westwood politics any day of the week.
About thirty minutes later, there was a sharp knock at my door and Jameson’s head popped around it. “Are you okay? Sterling and Callum left, but you kind of looked like you were going to be sick before you ran back up here.”
“I felt like it too,” I admitted. “All of this is just a little overwhelming, but I’m fine.”
He held my gaze for a beat. “We’re going to be okay, Sades. I promise, yeah?”
“If that’s true, why did you decline Sterling’s invitation to join them in Napa?” I asked before I could overthink it. “I would’ve liked to go. It could’ve been good for us.”
“Yeah, but, uh, I actually have to be in LA next weekend.”
“LA?” I frowned. “What’s happening in LA?”
He shut down, his cheeks turning pink before he started backing out of the room. “I need to go have a chat with my dad, but I’ll see you later, okay? You still have the keys to the Mercedes, so just, uh, take that when you go to the shelter and have fun.”
Gone before I could even take another breath, he shut the door softly behind him.
Cautious amusement rolled through me. Jameson only blushed about one thing in his life—his dirty, or rather clean, little secret.
While I was still super stressed about tonight, I was suddenly looking forward to getting back here this afternoon.
I couldn’t wait to find out what was happening in LA next weekend and I was genuinely hoping he would agree to take me with him.