Page 5

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SADIE

“It’s you!”

I can’t believe it, the man that saved my life, sitting right beside me.

He smiles and I want to evaporate into the air.

Here he is in a tight black t-shirt, tighter jeans, and a truck hat while I’m in the baggiest, purplest polo on the planet.

The amount of makeup I bothered with was a swipe of Dr. Pepper chapstick from Ann’s stash and my hair’s blowout was thanks to a rolled-down window.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” slips from my mouth. At least not like this. Why couldn’t it be all the times I put on a dress, and heels, and false eyelashes?

Oh shit. Oh fuck. He dips his head down, then he gazes up at me with eyes so glittering and black I want to pluck them out and wear them as a brooch. Okay. Getting kinda weird there. Calm down.

I claw my nails up my jeans, losing myself in the sensation of denim tugging back. What should be calming is only drawing his attention. I slap my hand to my thigh to stop. Then I do the worst thing imaginable.

I open my mouth.

“Thank you. For all you did. I thought I was a goner, but thanks to you they were able to heal me all up.”

His dusky rose lips quirk to the side. They glow against his tan like they want all the attention on his face. “I’m glad,” he says as if he’s lain awake at night for a whole week worrying about me.

I may have laid in bed thinking of him and his massive hand. It did a hell of a lot more than slam a needle into my thigh, I’ll say that much. Um…

“I was looking for you,” I say. His eyes open wide, and I flinch. Stalker much? You’re going to freak him out. Am I freaked out? He’s so big my neck’s getting a cramp just staring up at him.

A way too long of a second passes before I yelp out, “To thank you. For saving me. Which you did. And you already know because you were there. Phew. Is it hot today or what?” I flap my hand in front of my face for air before remembering there’s an eggplant in it.

Jerking, I feel it slip the second I catch it and move to stuff the vegetable into Lucy’s bag.

“I’m Sadie, by the way. Sadie the grateful.”

He watches me with so much focus I triple check the eggplant is going into the bag and not about to miss. Laying a hand to his chest, he tips his chin. “Aubry.”

“Oh, you don’t hear that name very often.”

“You don’t?”

“I like it. I guess I just thought you’d be an, I don’t know, a Mac or a Rocky.”

He snickers and peers down at himself. “So I give off that washed-up boxer vibe?”

“Or a semi-truck.” I try to solve the problem of my never-ending mouth by throwing more words out. It’s not working. “Is that better?”

“Depends on the truck,” he says, crossing his arms.

Tap-dancing frogs, his hand’s so big I didn’t even realize he’s holding an eggplant. Probably because he too loves that versatile vegetable. Eats it with every meal.

Like I ever had a chance with him, anyway.

“Is that why you’re here?” I ask, pointing to the purple veggie.

His thin nose scrunches and he uncrosses his arm to hold out the eggplant.

“Lots of people come to Loomis for the festival. Only one in the country. Yep. People really love their eggplants.”

Aubry stares the eggplant down like he’s Hamlet about to launch into a soliloquy. “I can’t say that I love it right now, no.”

Really? Have I found my eggplant-hating prince at last?

“The truth is…” Aubry runs his thumb across the purple flesh.

“The thing is…” I start, closing my eyes like I’m about to drop a bomb on him.

“I won’t eat eggplant.”

“I can’t eat eggplant.”

We both stop, give a quick chuckle, point to the other’s vegetable, then laugh hard. Holy shit, is he allergic too?

“Really?” Aubry says, shocked to meet another like him.

I nod.

“Then why do you have two of them?” he asks pointing to the bag.

“I’m holding them for a friend.”

He purses his lips and gives me a beady stare.

“Uh, they’re not drugs. I mean, obviously, they’re eggplants. See. No drugs in here. How would you even get drugs in an eggplant? Be easier to hide pills in an Oreo. Just scrape off the cream, then stick a few in the middle. Ooh, mix cocaine into the cream, then smear it back in. Cocoreo.”

Damn it. I did it again. Grimacing, I try to force a smile on as I assure him, “I don’t deal drugs.”

“Obviously. If you hide cocaine in Oreos, they won’t make it out of the warehouse before someone eats a whole bag and ODs.”

He’s so stern—which is melting my clothes off—I can’t tell if I’m supposed to laugh or call the DEA. For a brief second, he licks his lips, and I bray out a laugh. “You’re hilarious.”

“I am?” Aubry sounds surprised that anyone could find him funny. I’m sure they’d find him a few other things first of course. Daddy comes to mind.

There I go leaping to some impossible conclusion that he’s single and wants to mingle with all my jingle. Man like that’s probably got an Amazonian woman at home or a pixie. It’s never in-between with them.

“Where’s your wife and kids? At the face painting?”

“No.”

“Petting zoo? I hear they got a tortoise this year.”

“Nope.”

“I hope they’re not on the tilt-a-whirl. It’s more like the tilt-a-hurl.”

Aubry’s smile brightens, a row of blinding teeth appearing. “I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?” He’s the doesn’t need a piece of paper type. Jump on a Harley and ride out into the sunset, wind ruffling his thick, shiny hair.

“Ah, it’s just me.”

That cannot be true. He’s the kind of man who’ll get a girlfriend appointed to him the second he dumps the last one.

“Well…”

Ah, here it comes. The girlfriend who’s not really a girlfriend.

“Me and my cat. Do you want to see a picture of him?”

He has a cat? “Yes!” I shout, far too eager for my own good, but Aubry seems just as excited to show off his fur baby.

As he flips through his phone hunting for the pics, I try to sit up taller.

But his chest is so long, I can’t get my head above his shoulders.

As smoothly as a ballerina, I glide my foot onto the bench while mm-hmming along.

Once I get it under me, I pop up to land on my knee.

That second, Aubry swings his phone around. For a brief second, I spy an orange cat rolling around on his back in a casserole dish. But for as absolutely adorable as the cat is, my eyes drift back to the man holding the phone. He’s positively glowing with cat dad pride.

“Astin’s got one brain cell at the best of times, but…”

“Astin?” I ask trying to slip in closer to see more.

He scrolls to another picture of the same cat with his front paws balanced on the toilet seat as he tries to take a drink.

“I found him when he was a kitten hiding in a…” Aubry’s boastful tale pauses. “In an old pasta jar. So I named him Parmesan. Which became Parmie, then Parm, then Sean, Sean Astin, and finally Astin.”

He couldn’t be serious. “‘I can’t carry it, but I’ll carry you?’” I ask.

“More ‘Goonies never say die.’ If I was going to name him after a Lord of the Rings character, he’d be Legolas. Fair of face and none of brain.”

Who in the wild hell is this man? He’s a six-foot sequoia, wider than a door frame, rescues damsels from her own immune system, total fantasy nerd? Nope. Can’t be real.

Maybe I died at the restaurant.

“Oh, you should see this pic of Astin. He’s got this spring toy.” Aubry keeps scrolling past images. “Well, one time he…”

Pictures of the cat in various states of lying on something or about to fall off of something suddenly stop. A gray image appears. I only catch it for a second before Aubry bolts upright, and he scrolls back to Astin asleep in his lap. “Never mind.”

I couldn’t tell much, but it almost looked like a picture of a warehouse or old factory.

“I don’t want to keep you from your festival,” he says. I didn’t realize how open he was until it all shuts down. It’s like a totally different man doing his best to tell me off while being nice about it.

My body wants to find a way to wedge him back open. Invite him to my place so he can dragon my dungeon all night. Except there’s nothing but stone now.

“Thank you again,” I say, bowing my head so he won’t see the rising disappointment. Why did I think a man like that would want to spend two seconds with me?

Aubry’s gazing around the grounds, paying me no mind. He’s probably already found someone to play with his cat before he plays with hers.

“If you hadn’t have saved my life I’d be—”

“Do you want to go on the Ferris wheel?” he bursts out suddenly.

“Huh?”

“The Ferris wheel?” Aubry launches off the bench in a near-manic state. “Do you want to get on it together?”

A teeny tiny part of my brain wonders what the hell just happened. But, as he slips his fingers under my palm, takes me by the hand, and pulls me to my feet, every thought flees my mind. Except for one.

Holy shit, I want to scale that mountain.

“M’kay,” I mumble.

With a burst of energy, he pulls me toward the rides. The eggplants slap into my thigh as he extends his out like it’s guiding him. All the while, I stare transfixed at his ass damn near bursting out of his jeans.

Ooh, if this is heaven, don’t shock me back to life.