Page 5 of Todd
The single word, spoken with something between awe and disbelief, made her head snap toward the man who hadn’t even touched his own meal yet. Now that she could see his face fully in the bar’s warm lighting, the sight nearly made her forget about food entirely.
The realization hit her like cold water, and she blinked hard, only to discover his gaze still fixed on her with unwavering intensity. His eyes traveled from the messy bun she’d hastily constructed for air travel, and now she desperately wished she’d refreshed before venturing out. His gaze continued down over her face with an appreciation that made her skin warm. His visual exploration continued over her body before returning to meet her eyes directly.
Suddenly self-conscious, she wondered if her enthusiastic eating had left her wearing half her meal. She grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her mouth and cheeks with as much dignity as she could muster.
He chuckled, the sound low and genuinely amused, shaking his head slowly. “You’re fine.”
Sadie arched an eyebrow, still clutching the napkin like a shield. “With the way you were looking, I wasn’t sure if I had half my burger smeared across my face.”
Something shifted in his expression that seemed like a flash of embarrassment, and his lips curved in a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been staring. But when a very beautiful woman is making the kinds of sounds you were making while eating, a man can’t help but take notice.”
The implications of his words hit her like a freight train, and she felt heat flood her cheeks as mortification set in. Hadshe really been moaning over food like some kind of barnyard animal in heat? She scrunched her nose in embarrassment. “I probably sounded like a wild boar that just woke up from hibernation and needed a meal, didn’t I?”
That startled a laugh out of him, and then it was his turn to blush. Color rose to his cheeks as he shook his head, looking mortified. “No. No, that’s not what I meant at all.” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair, looking downright sheepish now. “Damn, I’m really mucking this up. What I meant was… just that… you sounded like someone who really appreciated her food. That’s all.”
Sadie stared at him for a second, lips parted, then laughed. Not a forced chuckle, but an honest-to-God laugh that broke through the dull weight she’d carried for months.
He wasn’t slick. He wasn’t feeding her a line or playing a role. He was flustered, awkward, and clearly just as surprised by the conversation as she was. And somehow, that made it even better. She found herself leaning slightly toward him, warmth still on her cheeks, curiosity growing where hesitation had been.
“Are you meeting someone here?” she asked, her voice softer now.
“No, I’m flying solo tonight.” He scoffed. “I’m flying solo every night.” He hesitated for just a moment, then gestured toward the empty stool beside her. “Would I be imposing if I moved over there so we could enjoy our meals together?”
Sadie was tempted, but she never talked to strangers in bars, never invited unfamiliar men into her personal space, and never threw caution to the wind based on physical attraction and a shared appreciation for good food. Her training, her experience, her entire adult life had been built on careful assessment and calculated risks.
But something about this moment captured her. Maybe it was the warmth of the restaurant, the satisfaction of finallyeating real food, the genuine awkwardness of his approach, or the way he looked at her like she was worth noticing. It all made her want to be someone different. Someone who could take a chance on a conversation with an attractive stranger without analyzing every possible threat or outcome. And maybe this exact moment was the kind of change she’d been craving without knowing it.
She found herself smiling, the expression feeling both foreign and completely natural. “Not at all. Please, join me.” She met his gaze, surprised by how open and easy it felt to smile back as he shifted into the seat next to her, sliding his plate down the bar.
Turning once again, he grinned as he lifted his hand. “I’m Todd. Todd Blake.”
“Sadie Hargrove,” she said, slipping her hand into his.
His palm was warm and calloused, his grip steady. It was the kind of touch that made her pulse jump and her heart beat a little faster. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she added softly. He held her hand just a moment longer than necessary, and she didn’t mind at all.
When they finally let go, her fingers felt strangely empty, and she turned back to her meal, trying to ground herself in the familiar joy of food. But her thoughts kept drifting sideways, toward the man beside her.
She hoped more than she expected that the night wouldn’t end with the last bite of her burger.
4
Sharing a meal led to sharing more drinks, and Sadie had zero regrets. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much. Really laughed. Not out of politeness or to fill a silence, but from somewhere deep inside.
She and Todd had wandered through topics like old friends catching up after years apart. They debated passionately about which sci-fi movies were the best and which belonged on a cult-favorite list. Neither had much time for television series, but they’d shared a few oldies that had been worth re-watching. They’d discovered similar interests in musical genres with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt in a long time. They’d confessed to foods that made them cringe and cuisines that were their favorite go-to meals.
Todd mentioned his siblings, but seemed to intuitively understand that family was territory she wasn’t ready to explore. His respectful retreat from the subject only made her appreciate him more. The longer they talked, the more the old, tight tension inside her body began to ease. The persistent ache of grief remained, but for the first time since her mother’s diagnosis, she felt capable of experiencing joy alongside the sorrow. It was a revelation that left her both grateful and slightly stunned.
Another topic they both carefully avoided was work. Years of CIA training had made discretion second nature to her, and she had no intention of changing that pattern now. Even if she didn’t get the position with Lighthouse Security, she was certain any interview would come with confidentiality agreements that would make discussing it impossible. Besides, she found Todd’s similar reluctance to discuss his profession oddly comforting rather than suspicious. They had no shortage of other subjects to explore, and the easy rhythm of their conversation never faltered.
Their plates had been cleared away long ago, but Todd had insisted on ordering a fried apple turnover to share, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he made the suggestion. Sadie’s stomach protested that she was already beyond full, but when the bartender set the enormous pastry between them, her eyes widened.
“Oh my God!” The dessert was the size of a small pizza, golden brown and dusted with cinnamon sugar, while the apple filling oozed temptingly from the edges.
Todd’s grin was wicked as he held her gaze. “You can’t blame me for wanting to share this with you.”
“You just want to hear me groan some more, don’t you?” she teased, then immediately felt heat rush to her cheeks as his eyes darkened with unmistakable hunger that had nothing to do with food.
