Page 17 of The Fragile Truth
A single tear escaped the corner of Ian’s eye and dribbled down his cheek. Before his mind was fully conscious of what he was doing, he sprang to his feet. “Let’s go and look at the damage done to the nursery,” he said gruffly.
Davis remained seated as he looked Ian in the eye. His voice was calm as a summer morning but had the power to penetrate him to the core. “I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said.”
Ian’s jaw worked as he nodded, then looked away.
6
As Ian strode up to Sadie’s front door, his pulse thumped a mile a minute against his neck. He swallowed, willing himself to remain composed. He transferred the box of chocolates to the crook of his elbow and clutched the flowers tighter in his hand as he used his free hand to punch the doorbell. A few seconds went by. Nothing. He swallowed, wondering if she’d changed her mind. Or maybe something came up. He jabbed the doorbell again just as the door opened.
His breath caught. She looked great in a red blouse and jeans that formed well to her long, slender legs.
“Hello,” Sadie said, a buoyant smile curving her lips. When she saw the flowers and chocolate, her dark eyes lit with pleasure as a soft chuckle issued from her throat. “For me?” She placed a hand over her chest. “You shouldn’t have.” An impish expression danced over her features. “But I’m glad you did.” She stepped back and motioned. “Come in.”
As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, the aroma of something spicy tingled his senses. “Smells great.”
“I hope you like lasagna.”
His mouth watered. “One of my favorites.” He handed her the bouquet. She brought it to her nose and inhaled appreciatively. “These are beautiful,” she murmured. A second later, she motioned with her head. “This way.” She led him through the small living room that flowed into the compact kitchen. “Have a seat.”
Ian pulled out a stool and sat down at the bar. He surveyed the space. Moving boxes were stacked along the wall. No pictures hung on the walls. The one bookshelf in the living room was empty. The furnishings were sparse—a navy-blue couch, coffee table, and a small, flat-screen TV resting on a short, worn and battered cabinet that needed to be refinished.
Sadie had done a nice job of setting the small table. White plates sat atop khaki-colored placemats. The napkins had silver rings, and there were tall wine glasses. Ugh! He didn’t want to mess up his streak by drinking wine. He hoped Sadie wouldn’t find it awkward if he asked for water instead.
Sadie went over to the cupboard and opened the cabinet. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched to reach an upper shelf.
“I can help,” Ian offered, coming halfway out of his seat.
“I’ve got it,” she answered casually as she reached for a yellow, plastic mega-sized cup that looked like it had come from a convenience store. She went to the sink and filled it with water before retrieving a pair of scissors out of a drawer. She cut the rubber band and sleeve off the flowers before placing them in the water. She snipped open the plant food pack and dumped it into the water. A rueful grin curved her lips. “I wish I had something prettier to put these in, but this is it.”
“I’m sorry to make you go to so much trouble. You worked a new job all week, you’re still unpacking, and then made me dinner.”
She waved his comment away with a flourish of her hand. “I enjoy cooking. It helps me relax.” Her attention was drawn to the gold box of chocolate resting on the counter. “Um, those look great. I love Godiva,” she sighed. Mischief sparkled in her eyes, turning them a fascinating golden brown. “Maybe we should dig into those first … before dinner.”
A chuckle rose in his throat as he pushed the chocolates out of her reach. “No ma’am,” he drawled. “My mama taught me to always eat dinner before digging into dessert.”
“She sounds like a smart woman,” she laughed.
“Oh, she is.” A grin tugged at his lips. “To hear her tell it, her intellect is second only to Einstein.”
She giggled, her hand going over her mouth. “You’re terrible.”
He also laughed, enjoying the easy banter flowing between them.
She crumpled up the plastic and other items that had come on the bouquet and tossed them into the nearby garbage can. She went to the sink and washed her hands before turning her attention to the salad.
“Can I do anything to help?”
She lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “So the Sheriff knows his way around the kitchen?”
“I’m clueless,” he admitted with a crooked grin, “but I figured I could at least ask.”
They shared a smile that shot an arrow of warmth through Ian. She reached for a bottle of Italian dressing and poured it over the salad before using wooden tongs to toss the salad. It gave Ian a sense of comfort to watch how adroit Sadie was in the kitchen. Her doing something simple like making dinner for the two of them was a powerful and healing reminder that she was nothing like Lina, who didn’t know the first thing about cooking or baking.
“Does your mother live in Summerhaven?”
“She does. Along with my uncle and his wife.”
“It must be nice living close to family,” she said wistfully.