Free Can't Let Go by Jessica Lemmon Page B

hugged his impressive thighs and led up to a tucked white shirt open at the collar and showing enough of his tanned neck to be distracting.
    I made a mistake last summer, Sadie. One I’ll regret always.
    A pang of guilt stabbed her. She hadn’t expected the flood of emotion that crashed into her when she saw him for the first time in nearly a year. She’d planned to tell him she was sorry he lost his mother. And she was. She may have never met the woman, but she saw her once. And she saw the connection between mother and son as clearly as she saw Aiden now.
    Sadie kept up with Aiden’s mother’s illness via updates from Crickitt. The decision not to go to the funeral went without saying, but Sadie hadn’t been able to stop herself from sending an anonymous bouquet to the funeral home. Losing a parent was one of the worst things in the world, she knew.
    Sadie straightened her spine, wiggled her heel into the floor, and reminded herself again not to dwell on her own heartbreak. Her best friend’s wedding wasn’t the place. Even so, she’d spent most of the day desperately trying to tamp down one emotion after the other. Thank goodness girls were supposed to cry at weddings.
    Which is why she’d been avoiding him. Aiden had a knack for seeing right through her. That was the clincher. He knew her. Picked her apart with those clairvoyant sea green eyes of his and left her defenseless. And being called out by Aiden Downey was at the tippy top of her “To Don’t” list.
    Aiden pulled a hand through his thick hair, the length of it landing between his shoulder blades. Sadie recalled the texture of it as if she’d run her fingers through it yesterday. She hated that.
    Damn muscle memory.
    Crickitt’s mother, Chandra, approached him at the bar and gave him a plump hug. Aiden smiled down at her but Sadie saw the sadness behind it, and for a split second, it made her heart hurt. She’d gotten too good at reading him, too. Knowing that reminded her of just how close she had been to losing her heart to him…until a phone call annihilated everything between them.
    Whether it was the invisible cord of awareness strung between them or coincidence, Sadie wasn’t sure, but Aiden chose that moment to look in her direction. His smile faltered, the dimple on his left cheek fading before he flicked his eyes away.
    Sadie used to love the way he shook her up. From across a room. With nothing more than a look. But now her heart raced for a far different reason. One she refused to name. She frowned down at her empty champagne flute. She was going to need more alcohol if she hoped to toughen her hide. This exposed vulnerability simply wasn’t going to cut it.
    “Refill?” Garrett asked, gesturing to her empty glass.
    “Yes,” she said, grateful for his doting. She handed it over. “Keep ’em coming.”
    *  *  *
    Aiden bid the last lingering guests farewell, watching as a sophisticated older couple by the name of Townsend walked to the driveway. Shane and Crickitt August had made their exit hours ago, amid cheers and handfuls of heart-shaped, biodegradable confetti. Since he was staying at Shane and Crickitt’s cabin for the weekend, Aiden was left in charge of supervising the caterer, breaking down the tent, and clearing away the remains of the celebration.
    “Do you need me to get you to a hotel, Sadie?”
    Aiden turned in the direction of the slightly exasperated voice to find Garrett gesturing with his hands. Sadie was the picture of stubbornness with her arms folded over her ample breasts and her bottom lip jutting out.
    “You’re in no condition to drive,” Garrett said. He reached out to palm her arm and Sadie expertly swung out of reach.
    Aiden felt kind of bad for the kid. Twenty-two-year-old Garrett Day was far too inexperienced to handle a woman of Sadie’s magnitude on his best day, and even then…
    “There a problem?” Aiden approached with his hands in his pockets, hoping to convey he didn’t care if