Authors: Gina Watson
In her car, she turned the ignition over and then put it into drive. Her situation was fucked.
What had she thought was going to happen after having sex with him? Was he supposed to magically realize how much he needed her in his life?
She drove home thinking about her foolish behavior. What hurt most was, as it turned out, he wasn’t the guy she thought he was at all. She’d thought him to be so different from the others. She laughed out loud at the situation. He was worse, prejudice against her for something she had absolutely no control over—her family’s money and who her father was. He seemed to care about those two things much more than any man she’d been with before.
Pulling up to the house she smiled. Thank God she wasn’t living alone…at least not tonight. Inside, she walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water and maybe some whiskey.
Tequila shots, anyone
?
She’d wanted to call Clara and tell her everything that had happened, but she couldn’t very well do that without breaking her promise to him. She sighed in front of the fridge.
“Rough night?”
She swung around and settled eyes on her brother Everett. She skidded over to him and squeezed him in her arms. “Everett. I’m glad you’re here.”
He rubbed her back. “So really a rough night.” He smiled.
He was eating iced circus animal cookies and milk. Those cookies had always been his favorite. “You could say that. Why aren’t you at Fiona’s?”
“We watched Spider-Man in the theater. She fell asleep with Ryder.”
“He’s great. She’s great. I’m happy for you.” She took a stool at the bar next to him and he pushed the bag of cookies across the counter in her direction.
“They are. I hope I can be great for them in return.”
“You are, Everett. You’re a wonderful man. I wish I could find someone as wonderful as you.”
“Wow. That’s meaningful coming from you, considering our history of rope burns and noogies.” They laughed and he popped another cookie in his mouth. “You look blue, girl. What’s going on?”
She rested her head on her stretched out arm and brought a pink cookie to her mouth. “I messed up tonight.”
“Does this have anything to do with Sawyer from dreamland?”
She gasped. “Everett!”
He chuckled. “Come on, you talk about him in your sleep, so I figure this has something to do with him.”
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people when they’re asleep.”
“You were in the den.
Oh, Sawyer. Yes! Oh, Sawyer
.” His voice was high in pitch as he tried to mimic her.
She slapped his arm repeatedly until he shut up. “I don’t think I’ll be having any more dreams about him.”
“No?”
She held the pink-iced animal cookie between her fingers on the granite. Everett galloped a white-cookie animal over to touch noses with hers. “What kind of name is Sawyer anyway?”
“The best kind.”
“You really like this guy.”
“I did.”
“What happened to change that?”
“You know how Travis wanted to marry me because I was great for his stock?”
Everett nodded.
“Well, I met this physician the other day and when he found out my last name he started bloviating about how wonderful it was to not really have to work or worry about money and student loan debt.”
Everett’s lips thinned out as she told her story. “I met this guy, Sawyer. He’s a hardworking man—has like three jobs, and he renovated his home with his bare hands. I thought…now here’s a guy who doesn’t care about money or my name or what my name means within the community, but I was wrong. So wrong.” She shook her head and huffed. He went bananas when he found out who I was. Turns out one of his big jobs is the David Restaurant. Dad’s name on his paycheck sent him into a bitch fit.”
“Why?”
“I sort of lied at first and told him my last name was Jones.”
Everett’s eyes bugged. “You did?”
She nodded.
“Why does he work three jobs?”
She shrugged. “Why does anybody? I guess he needs the money.”
“What are the jobs?”
“He accepts delivery and keeps the kitchen at Clara’s, he works construction, and every now and then he’ll take off to go and track a boar or an alligator. He captures and sells them to some guy who comes by. One time he brought a boar to work in a cage. He’d just caught the beast.”
“That’s actually kind of cool.” Everett stood and poured her a glass of milk.
“I was hoping for something stronger.”
“I’m not done.” He grabbed a bottle of Amaretto and brought it to their picnic.
“I love you.” She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.
He grinned. “I know, I’m your favorite of the three.”
“You are my favorite.”
“You’re a slut! You and mom tell each one of us that we’re your favorite!”
She leaned back with her chin on her chest and cleverly smiled. “There’s no harm in that.”
“There is.”
“I had sex with him,” she admitted.
Unimpressed, Everett passed her one of his concoctions. She sniffed and then sipped. “Mmm. Good.”
“Let me guess. You had sex and then it all went to hell?”
“He wanted to know what my demands were.” She winced as she recalled the determined look in his brown blazing eyes. He’d been prepared to throw himself at her mercy to keep their connection a secret.
“Demands?”
“For keeping my mouth shut.”
“Your mouth?” Everett’s look of confusion belied her own.
She sighed. “He’s worried he’d lose his job if I were to tell Dad.”
“Paranoid much?”
She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to bring clarity to everything that had happened that night. “He is paranoid. When I met him he said he had responsibilities and his life wasn’t his own.” She imitated his deep voice.
“The plot thickens.”
“What plot?”
“Something runs deeper than what’s at his surface.”
“What…like he’s…he’s married or something?”
“Or something.”
“How do I find out what it is?”
Everett looked down and scratched his head. “I don’t know. Our neighbor seems to know all about doing that.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder indicating the direction in which she lived.
“Who? Harmony?”
He nodded. “Since Ashton's fall, Harmony has been caring for crazy cousin Ashton around the clock. For all his bellyaching you’d think she were giving him hourly enemas.”
“But he’s such an ass. How can she stand it?”
“She senses something deeper.” He shrugged. “Thank God Fiona sensed something deeper in me or I would have lost her and Ryder. Where would I be?” A haunted look crept over his face. He shook his head and shuddered. “I can’t even think about life without them.”
“So you’re saying I should try to talk to him?”
“No. He’s a douche. I’m just saying, he’s the one with issues. Not you. You’re wonderful and charming. I could call any guy in my cell phone right now and hook you up. In fact, I have no doubt any of my acquaintances would drop everything and fall all over themselves to get here.” He nodded. “Fact.”
“I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell Dad. You can’t tell anyone.”
“Intrigued. Continue.” He gestured with his hand for her to finish her story.
“He’s not a douche.”
“Wow. I’m glad I was sitting down for that revelation.”
“He saved me. I was showing a house to a client who gave me the creeps. He was drunk and coming on strong so I ran into the woods behind Audubon Place. I got lost. I was out there for hours. He came and tracked me. Carried me to his truck and then to the hospital. He nursed me all night.”
“When did this happen?”
“Wednesday afternoon.”
“Wednesday! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t. But I had him. He took excellent care of me.”
His hand rubbed her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Did you hear me? He nursed me. It was wonderful—we had a deep connection. He felt it too. That’s when he told me about his responsibilities.”
“I’m concerned with this client. What’s his name?”
“Eric Houseman. I filed a police report at the hospital. Sawyer set it all up.”
“You’re right…he’s not a douche.”
“I told you.”
“Something runs deeper. He’s not avoiding you just because you have money and a name.”
She nodded, feeling somewhat relieved.
“I’m mad at you though. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about your attack.”
“Almost attack. I tried calling you earlier that day to accompany me, but it went to voicemail. But again, I had Sawyer and, no offense, but I immensely enjoyed his taking care of me.”
“I don’t want you showing any more homes to strange men.”
“Trust me, I won’t be.”
He preyed on the cookies in his hand with his mouth and tongue, snatching up both with a snarl and stuffed them into his mouth.
She laughed. “You’re so insane.”
“We’re related. If I’m insane, so are you.”
“I feel insane.”
Chapter 8
By Monday Baton Rouge was a soggy mess. It had started raining late Saturday and poured nonstop, effectively dumping upwards of four to six inches within two days.
“Well this isn’t going to be a good hair day at all,” Courtney mumbled to herself as she dressed in a cream top and black pencil skirt. She’d thought of wearing silk slacks, but she’d yet to pick them up from the cleaners.
As she was swathing her cheeks with light bronzer, Ari waltzed in and plopped down on her bed. Running late for a home closing, Courtney didn’t stop with her makeup. She did however notice Ari’s attire consisted of cotton team-themed shorts and a tank top. Her hair was gathered messily on top of her head in what Courtney referred to as her genie do.
“Why are you not at the dorm?”
“They shut it down.”
Courtney hastily turned, “Why?”
“Uh, because of the floods.”
She said it like she expected Courtney to know all about it. “Floods?”
“The lower levels of the dorms are flooded with an inch of water.”
“Oh, wow. It hasn’t rained that much has it?” Courtney sat beside Ari on the bed to transfer her belongings from one purse to another.
“No, but drainage on campus sucks. It’s kind of cool…a day off.”
“What will you do all day?”
Ari lowered her head to hide the smirk on her face, but Courtney still caught it. “You’re going to be with him?”
“Zeke. Yeah.” She smiled a 100-watt smile.
“You really like him.” Courtney frowned.
“I think I love him.”
Courtney inhaled sharply, rubbing her brow with her middle finger. “Ari, have you thought about how difficult it will be to build a life with him?”
“No Courtney, it never crossed my mind,” she countered sarcastically.
“Do you think he loves you?”
“He tells me he does.” She grabbed Courtney’s arm. “And when we’re together, you know…I feel it…his love for me.”
Courtney was older than her sister by four years. She had experience with what it was Ari felt when they were together and she hoped that her sister wasn’t confusing lust with love. It was easy enough to do. “Ari, when I dated Reese he was close with Zeke because they were on the team together. He told me about how hard Zeke partied after games. I worry about you with him. Are you using protection?”
Ari’s face contorted into an unfriendly frown. She stood to walk out, but turned back, her arms folded across her chest. “You know what, Court? I think you’re jealous because I’ve found someone and you’re all alone.”
Wow. That hurt. Sometimes she forgot that her sister had grown up and somewhere along the way her insults had grown up with her. “Ari, I only want to protect you from the hurt that can come when things don’t work out.”
“It’s going to work out. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unwarranted. And, not that it’s any of your business, but he’s clean. And he’s faithful to me.” She stormed off in a huff.
Courtney felt bad, but Reese’s stories had been so vivid and so raunchy. Zeke would have sex with several women in one night. After all, LSU wasn’t known for the scholars it turned out. No, it was known for sports and parties. When the teams were winning, the parties were hardcore.
***
At work she met with a couple that had just closed on their first home. The wife was pregnant and they’d found a place just in time, as she was due to deliver in four weeks. “Mr. and Mrs. Martin, may I present you with the keys to your new home?” Courtney passed the keys to them with one of her fancy key chains that she bestowed on all of her clients at this stage of home buying.
Mrs. Martin began to cry and Courtney passed her a box of tissues. She loved her job, and especially this part of it. She pulled a gift bag from under the table and passed it to them. “This is a little something from me as you embark on your newest journey…home ownership.”
Mrs. Martin accepted the bag. “Can I open it?” She wiped at her eyes with a tissue.
“Absolutely,” Courtney answered energetically.
Mrs. Martin pulled tissue paper from the bag, and then removed the box. Hoisting the lid off she gasped. She pulled the tile from the box and held it up to her husband, both had large smiles on their faces. “Look at that: The Martin Home, Established Two Thousand and Fourteen.” Her tears fell faster now. Speaking through them she said, “I just love it and know where I want to keep. In the kitchen…the heart of the home.”
“Great! Here are your papers.” Courtney passed them a file an inch thick, and then they stood and exchanged goodbyes.
Around one o’clock her stomach growled at her. With the wet conditions she wasn’t going to travel far. As she sat and mulled over what Everett had told her about something deeper being at the root of Sawyer’s evasiveness, she considered venturing next door. She could sit at the bar. Clara wouldn’t let things get awkward…
would she?
Clara had no idea how they’d left things Saturday night.
Picking up her cell she dialed the number she’d stored for ordering lunch on the go.
“Clara’s Cheese Shop.”
“Clara, it’s Courtney. I’m coming over for lunch, but I just wanted to warn you...” Courtney sighed into the phone. “Things didn’t go very well Saturday night so I’m just going to act like nothing happened to prevent as much of the awkwardness as possible.”
“He’s not here today. He called to let me know he was going to be late because his dog died. He was so distraught I told him to take the day if he needed it.”
“Oh, Liver died. That’s horrible. He must be devastated.”
“He sounded like he was.”
“I’ll be over in a bit.”
“Bye.”
Courtney sat and stared at her phone. He loved that old dog. He must be beside himself with grief. Her chest burned for him. She should call.
And offer what?
He probably wouldn’t even answer a call from her given the state of things.
She grabbed her umbrella and debit card and plodded through the wet in her high heels.
As soon as she opened the door to Clara’s she heard, “There you are. Wine?”
“Please!”
“Got it right here.”
Clara held a glass of red in the air for Courtney to take. She took a sip and moaned around the taste. “So good.”
Clara set cheeses and olives before her, along with various crackers and a little French bread. Once she had Courtney set up she placed her elbow on the worktop and her cheek on her hand. “So…it didn’t go well.”
Courtney sat on a stool, and then popped an olive into her mouth. “That’s an understatement. It was a disaster.”
“What happened?”
Hmm. Now this was a slippery slope. She promised not to tell and Clara was his boss. She desperately wanted to tell her though. “I promised I wouldn’t tell. He’s worried he’ll lose his job.”
Clara frowned, and then threw her palms in the air. “His business is his business. You and I just happen to be friends. However, I’m not God so I won’t be judging.”
Courtney laughed. “Well we went to this French place that I like. It was a mistake from the get go.” She shook her head. “I’ve been eating there for years and, as a woman, I didn’t even think about
his
attire. Of course he had to wear the loner jacket. And then there was the wine sommelier—honestly I couldn’t have made the divide between money and us any larger than I did that night. Completely unintentionally mind you.”
“Oh.” Clara’s eyes grew large.
“Yeah, he’s got some hang up about my world and the one in which he lives. To top it off we ran into my ex, who was very nasty to poor Sawyer.”
“Hmm, it doesn’t sound so bad. Given a little time, I’m sure you’ll get your chance again.”
“I had sex with him. Raunchy, dirty, three-orgasm sex.”
“Oh. My. God!” Clara squealed, her hands landing on her reddening cheeks.
“I know.”
“Wow. Three-orgasm sex is the best. Keeper?”
Courtney laughed louder than she had in a year. “Whoever does end up with him is in for the time of her life.”
“Gotta be you.”
“I sort of lied about my last name. When Travis let it be known that I’m a David, Sawyer stiffened on the spot.”
“You lied?”
“I thought it would be nice to meet someone who didn’t know me for my name or the money I’m connected to.”
“That makes total sense to me.”
“He is actually employed by my father.”
“He is?”
“The construction of the restaurant.”
“Oh yeah, he mentioned that.” Clara leaned in. “So how the hell did you get from there”—she pressed her index finger into the counter—“to sex?” She pressed the index finger of her other hand down on the opposite end of the counter.
“We were arguing all the way down the sidewalk. Things got heated.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. The desire…that longing…it was all around us. Super charged. He insinuated and I took the bait. That’s all it took.”
“You went to his house?”
Courtney smiled. A little embarrassed, she felt her cheeks heat.
Clara’s hands cupped her face. “Oh my God, were you here?”
“No. We were next door.”
“Next door. While the bachelorette party was going on?”
“Yeah.”
They both nodded and their eyes stilled in thought. For a few beats nothing was said, no movements were made as each woman thought about three-orgasm sex from their perspective viewpoints. They sighed simultaneously together.
Clara cleared her throat. “So, you’ve left him alone with his thoughts then?”
Fresh from her daze, Courtney wasn’t following. “What?”
“You haven’t spoken, texted, emailed with him since?”
“Nope.”
“He’s pretty shaken up about his dog.”
“I know. I feel terrible.”
Clara gasped and her eyes twinkled—it was her
I’ve got it!
look, and it was dangerous. “You should bring him dinner. You already know where he lives. Surprise him.” She stabbed her finger in the air.
“You’re such a schemer. Your scheming ways have landed me at your game night with a total loser
and
had me taking Sawyer out for a much too French dinner.”
“Hey, I think you and I both agree that it ended in the best way a French dinner can.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. “The best things in life…you’ve got to fight for him.”
Courtney vaguely recalled little Clara doing just that for her man Jackson, pushing back interference from her beast of an older brother. Maybe Courtney could learn a thing or two from the young girl who fought for love at all costs.