Promise Me (Asher Family #1)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HUDSON

I woke up before Sadie today. She was still asleep when I left for the gym.

I needed the space.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy having her around.

I do, which I see as a problem.

Especially after my body reacted to her at the bar yesterday.

It’s almost as if all the emotions I had toward her turned from annoyance and fight into … hell, into the complete opposite.

She was the first thing on my mind when I woke up today. Not the bar, not the fact that my life wasn’t the way I planned, not that I was back in Lovers, not … normal.

Instead, I wondered if I should wake her to get breakfast, ask whether we should take another walk around town to see if today brings something back to her or see if she just wanted to be awake with me because I like being around her.

So I grabbed some gym clothes and left.

I can’t even be mad, because I feel different today. Almost as if I woke up actually looking forward to something.

It reminds me a little of game day. The thrill of what the day will bring. Am I going to win, or will I leave knowing I need to do better next time?

There is nothing sad about my mental state today, and that’s refreshing.

I press the button for more resistance on the bike.

My leg was bugging me first thing this morning, so instead of dwelling on why, I decided to do something about it.

Sadie wants to be proactive in remembering her life. She asked for my help, but even if she hadn’t, she would have done it on her own.

She’s choosing to stay positive in a hard time.

I should have chosen that path. Instead, I chose anger and resentment. I chose to shut people out. Being around Sadie has made my brain think differently.

An hour later, I'm walking back to my apartment when I spot the light on in the bakery.

I move to the front window and spot Sadie sitting at one of the tables. She’s got a notepad in front of her as she taps a pen to her lips.

Her pink, plump lips spread into a smile when she sees me.

I clear my throat, trying not to show how much I enjoy what that smile is doing to me.

“Hey, stranger,” she says and opens the door.

I step in, and she locks it behind me.

“Morning. I’m glad to see you slept in today.”

“Yeah, well, the first place I still went to was down here.”

“Did you start baking again?”

She shakes her head.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

I eye her. She twists her lips and bites her fingernail as she waits for me to reply.

“Sure.”

“You can’t tell Linc or my dad. ”

I nod and then take a seat. “The secrets are stacking up, Sadie.”

“I know.”

“But let's hear it.”

I don’t especially like the idea of hiding anything from her brother, but if it helps her, I'll do it.

“I don’t like baking.”

I don’t say anything right away. I think she’s letting her words sink in as much as I am.

“My mom,” she goes on, “loved this place, and I’m starting to think that I only kept it going because of that.”

“Is that what you want now?”

“I don’t know.” she groans. “It’s clearly doing well, but I can’t stop thinking about Sips and Stories, and everything is just confusing.”

“Sips and Stories?”

She smiles. It’s different from the one she usually gives me, but it’s all the more amazing.

“Yes. I was going to open it where your bar is, with a corner window reading spot. It was going to be filled with flowers and a bar in the back for fun dunks. There would be big cloud chairs and sofas all around where people could sit and read. They would bring their own books or get one off the shelves. A mimosa and a romance novel in a room full of flowers just sounds so … soothing.”

I’ve never heard her so enthusiastic about something. She sure as hell didn’t sound this passionate when she made her pitch to Mrs. Whittaker ten days ago.

I bought the bar through email before I moved back. I had no idea she wanted it.

The bar space and the apartment.

Shit.

I stole her dream right after her mom had passed away .

I wouldn’t have tried to make amends with me, either.

“You think it’s stupid, don’t you?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“You’re just sitting there in silence.”

I blow out a breath.

“I’m thinking that I have a hunch on why you hated me so much when I came back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought the bar. I took your dream, and so you made a new one.” I gesture to the bakery.

“You think so?”

“It makes sense. You’ve hated me even more than usual since I came back.”

Our eyes lock, and she bites her lip.

Oh hell. The urge to yank her chair toward me so that my mouth can replace hers hits me hard. My hand even twitches.

“What’s this?” I ask to change the subject quickly. I tap on her notepad.

“Oh, it’s all my questions for why I’m doing what I do now.”

“Let’s hear them.”

She laughs. “Well, number eight is, has Hudson always been this sweet?”

I bark out a laugh.

“I’m not sweet.”

“You’re pretty sweet.”

The things my mind wants to do her right now are anything but sweet. On this table, with her stripped bare for the entire town to see through the front window.

“I think we will have to agree to disagree. What else is on there?”

“Okay, I have, why do I own the bakery? Why do I still live with my dad? Did I date anyone in the last few years? Who is my best friend now, and where are they? What are my hobbies now? And why was I at the bakery that afternoon? Maybe if I knew what I was doing, it would bring something back.”

A lump forms in my throat. I have no way to prove it, but I think she was there because of me.

An ache hits my chest.

Do I tell her that? How much do I share with her? My gut tells me that she’d want to know everything and anything that would help her remember even the slightest detail at this point, but my heart says to wait until I know for sure.

I clear my throat and nod to the kitchen. “Have you baked anything since you woke up in the hospital?”

She shakes her head and looks down as if she’s ashamed to admit it.

“Maybe start there.”

She looks up, her gaze landing on me for a fleeting moment before she stares at the kitchen door.

“I used to bake with my mom, but it was just for fun. It wasn’t ever something I would want to make into a career, or so I thought. Jeez, listen to me. I’m like a broken record. You know all this.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Maybe if you bake something that your mom and you did together, something will come back. Who knows—maybe you kept this place going as a way to stay close to her.”

I look around at all the tables she has and the pictures from over the years and then to the glass hutch where she usually keeps the day’s freshest baked goods. It’s weird to look at it this way. Empty.

After a minute passes, I return my focus to Sadie, who is just watching me.

“What?” I ask.

Her gaze narrows. “I’m just trying to figure out how I missed all this. ”

“Missed what?”

“You. Moments like just now make me feel like I never really knew you.”

I shrug. “Maybe you didn’t.”

She nods slowly and moves to the kitchen.

“I think I'll take your advice. My mom’s favorite thing to make were lemon bars. I have her recipe memorized, and they are melt-in-your-mouth amazing.”

I try to keep my expression neutral. It’s hard.

The ache in my chest returns.

“I’ll let you get to it, then.” I turn to the door, ready to get some fresh air.

Is this all really a good idea?

What happens when she remembers why she was here?

What if I was, in fact, the reason?

My hand is on the door handle when she stops me.

“Do you want to bake with me?”

I freeze, then slowly turn and rub the back of my neck.

“I’m, uh…”

She waves a hand in front of her face. “I’m sorry. Ignore me. Just because my life is weird right now doesn’t mean you should abandon yours. I’ll see you later.”

I can’t quite place the look on her face. Defeat, maybe? Or maybe it’s more of what I imagine someone who is attempting to put on a brave face would look like.

Is she worried about being here alone again?

She was here by herself when I found her, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t worried.

The rest of my day plays out quickly in my head: shower, dress, eat lunch at the bar, and then go back to my apartment to do whatever my mind comes up with.

Another typical day in the life of Hudson Asher.

So, of course, I do what every man in my shoes would do .

“You know what? I think I’ll stay.”

Her head snaps up, and the way her face lights up tells me I made the right choice.

“Oh, yay. You’re going to love these bars.”

Oh, I know I will. They are the best thing she makes.

I’ll be sure to tell her the truth this time.