Page 44 of Mad Love

We stay a little longer, but the wind picks up, so we decide to go.

“The Fairy Hut?” he asks when we drive down Jupiter, the main drag in the cute and tiny downtown area.

“Sure, why not?” It’s been the best day I’ve had in a long time. I’m not quite ready to cut it short.

We stop at a light and there’s a woman with long blonde hair that looks like Stevie Nicks’ younger sister, singing with her guitar on the corner. Weston lowers the windows and we listen.

“She’s good,” I say.

“Yeah, Tiana’s a sweetheart. Went to Woodstock and said it changed her life.”

I turn back to look at her as we pull away. “She’s old enough to have been to Woodstock?”

“She’s in her seventies,” he says.

“Unbelievable.”

He points out his favorite places along the way. Twinkle Tales, an adorable bookstore, where the highlight besides an incredible book selection, is Hank the orange tabby cat. Starlight Cafe, a retro diner that is more than just burgers and shakes, they also have every pie imaginable and their soups are great too. Rose & Thorn, a fine dining experience…he kisses his lips when he says this and it makes me laugh.

“Along this whole street, every Saturday, summer through fall, vendors come from everywhere and the Pixie Pop-Up Market takes over.” He shakes his head when I try not to laugh.“I know, I feel like an idiot every time I say the names of anything around here. Twinkle Tales? Come on.”

I can’t help but laugh then.

“But the Pixie Pop-Up Market…it’s amazing. If you like to shop even a little bit, you’ll love it.”

“You really love this town, don’t you?” I ask.

“I grew up here, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Landmark Mountain is incredible too, though. I didn’t know another place could come close to this, but it does.”

The Fairy Hut is even better than Weston described, although he did a pretty great job. He didn’t tell me that the servers have pointy ears and wear fairy clothes. The girls are wearing little tutus and wings, and the one guy I see is wearing a scalloped edge shirt over tight black pants.

“Do you ever get the urge to dress like a fairy when you come here?” I ask.

“Uh…no. Those pants are too similar to the ones I have to wear playing football. I don’t love my junk getting on those websites highlighting bulges as it is. Can you imagine if I wore pants like those that don’t have as much compression?” He shudders.

Meanwhile, I’m picturing his bulge. I’m sorry to say I’m quite familiar with those sites and his bulge.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

YOU COULD HATE ME

WESTON

After our day out, Sadie has been around more. She still seems so sad and tentative, but she has color in her cheeks and she’s eating more often too.

I got an email that Caleb’s furniture should be arriving today, so I’m going to broach the subject of moving his room upstairs. I’ve been sleeping on the couch downstairs more often thannot…or the chair in the library. Somewhere close enough that I can reach him before he wakes her up.

I’m a little nervous about bringing it up with her, but I don’t know why. She’s been more open. She’s not looking at me like I’m the bad guy as much anymore. I still don’t think she fully trusts me, but I don’t think she hates me either.

We’re somewhere in the middle of a peaceful place.

Still, I make pancakes to soften the atmosphere. I’ve discovered that if Sadie doesn’t want anything else to eat, she’ll say yes to pizza or pancakes, and since it’s nine in the morning and they’re one of the few things I know how to make, I’m going with pancakes.

Sadie comes up with a happy Caleb. After being up with him last at six, I put him in the portable crib downstairs by the couch while I worked out in my gym and snuck upstairs just a little while ago to grab a shower and make coffee. He’s still waking up during the night, but the intervals between are getting longer and the length of time awake is getting shorter.

Sadie looks better today. She looks amazing, actually. She’s wearing a cute sweater and jeans, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. I’ve tried my damnedest not to give it any thought, but Rhodes is not the only one who’s noticed the way her ass fits in her jeans and the way her tits are a perfect handful. Her legs go on for days, and her long neck is an expanse of graceful elegance. And that’s just her body. Her face…God, her face. Her eyes, her mouth.

Get a grip, Shaw. Get a fucking grip.

---