Page 35 of Todd
Did she mean it professionally? Just grateful for backup in a potentially dangerous situation? Or was there something deeper, something personal threaded through those carefully chosen words?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, grateful for the privacy of his hotel room, where no one could witness him falling apart over a text message like some lovesick teenager. The other Keepers would never let him hear the end of it if they could see him now, analyzing five words with the intensity of a CIA operative decoding enemy intelligence.
Before he could craft a response, his phone vibrated with another received message.
I’m in for the night. Call when you want.
This time, he didn’t overthink it. His thumb stabbed at her contact information, nearly deleting the text in his haste. The phone rang once, twice?—
“Todd?” Her voice poured through the speaker, sending electricity racing along his nerve endings. Even saying his name, she managed to sound both cautious and pleased, like she couldn’t quite believe he’d actually called.
“Yeah, I’m here. How are you?” The words came out rougher than he’d intended, betraying just how deeply her voice affected him.
“Another stupid day, but I’m okay. Mary messaged that Timothy is going to be fine.”
Relief flooded through him at her casual tone. No awkwardness, no sharp edges… just Sadie being Sadie. “Yeah, he’ll be discharged tomorrow, and Cole will fly him back.”
Silence stretched between them. He found himself holding his breath, terrified of saying something that might shatter this fragile reconnection before it could fully form.
But Sadie, as always, was braver than he was. “I’m glad you’re here, Todd. Logan told me that you volunteered.”
The simple statement hit him like a gut punch. She was gladhewas here. Not just professionally grateful, but personally pleased. The knowledge sent warmth spreading through his chest.
“More like insisted,” he said, chuckling at the memory of his barely controlled panic when he’d learned she was alone.
“Yeah... that’s what he said.”
Another silence, but this one felt different. Expectant rather than awkward, like she was waiting for him to be brave enough to bridge the gap between them. This time, he didn’t wait for her to fill the void.
“I wanted it to be me down here with you, Sadie.” The confession poured out of him like water through a broken dam. “I hated being trapped in Montana, knowing you were down here, possibly in danger. I was jealous of Timothy, even though I knew he wasn’t physically with you.”
The admission hung between them, raw and honest and terrifying. He’d just confessed to jealousy over her professional partnership with another man—a line he’d never allowed himself to cross before.
“Why?”
This time, he didn’t have to try to analyze her one-word question. He knew what she was asking. Even over the phone, he could hear the uncertainty and the power behind that one word.
Awhyquestion always made us look inside. What, how, when, where, who… all of those could often be answered empirically or definitively. But why? That involved reasoning, and when applied to humans, involved emotion.
He closed his eyes, desperately not wanting to fuck things up again. “If I can never have anything more with you than professional camaraderie and friendship, I’ll take it. Because crumbs from you are more than a banquet with anyone else.” His heart hammered against his ribs as silence stretched across the phone line, and for a terrifying moment, he wondered if he’d just destroyed eighteen months of careful rebuilding with his desperate honesty.
“Holy shit, Todd. That line was really good, and I can’t imagine what book you got that from.”
He laughed and imagined her smiling, too. “Believe it or not, Sadie, that didn’t come from a book. I swear those words just came into my brain and out of my mouth.” There was a few seconds of silence, but he continued, his voice dropping and growing rougher with emotion.
“And it’s true. If that’s all we can have, then I’ll live with that. But I refuse to believe that my stupid fuckup, preconceived ideas of fraternization in the workplace, and how our coworkers might negatively perceive a relationship between us… I now know that all that shit doesn’t matter. And I just hope it’s not too late.”
His hands were sweating, his pulse thundering so loudly he was surprised she couldn’t hear it through the phone. Everything hung in the balance—his job, his place on the team, and his chance at happiness with the one woman who’d ever made him feel complete.
“Todd, it’s not too late.”
Five more words that rewrote his entire world. They moved through him like a warm river, filling empty spaces he’d carried for so long he’d forgotten what wholeness felt like. Relief andjoy and desperate hope crashed over him in waves. “Good.” The word came out breathless, inadequate for the magnitude of what she’d just given him.
She laughed again, softer this time, intimate in a way that made his chest ache with longing. “Yeah, good.” A pause, then her voice shifted back to business. “I suppose now is where we get to work, right?”
The transition was jarring, but he understood the necessity. They were still on a mission, still had a job to do. Personal feelings would have to wait until she was safe.
Sitting up straighter, he forced his mind to snap into professional mode. “Yes. Tell me about your day.”
