Worth The Effort (The Worth Series Book 4: A Copper Country Romance) (9 page)

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you see your hands all the time—eating, getting ready, working, especially if you work with computers as much as I’m guessing you do.”

“Yes?”

“You could have chosen something that you wear outwardly that other people see more than you do, like a necklace or something. Or, you could have chosen something that
only
you see, but not very often, like different undergarments.”

Deni should have been embarrassed, but she’d passed that line with Alison a long time ago.

“But you chose something that
you
would see as much—or even more—than others would.”

“What does that mean?” Deni asked. Surely they were over her session time by now, but Deni didn’t dare look at her watch again. She didn’t want to stop Alison’s train of thought.

“I’m not sure it means anything. I just find it interesting. And”—she started to rise from her chair, causing Deni to do the same—“it’s a very bold choice. I like it.”

“Sawyer Beck said the reason he kissed me was because of my nail polish.”

Alison sat back in her chair, a look of shock on her usually composed face. “Sawyer Beck kissed you?”

“Yes. That night we met you and Petey.”

Alison waved Deni to sit back down, which she did. “Do you want to talk about that?”

“Aren’t we out of time?”

“I don’t have another appointment for an hour.”

“Oh, okay. Um…what should we talk about? I mean about him kissing me?”

A devilish smile crossed Alison’s face. One Deni had never seen during therapy but which seemed to go with the woman who’d been Petey Ryan’s date the other night. “Well, what I’d really like to know is what kind of kisser Sawyer Beck is, but I guess that would be unprofessional to ask.”

Deni laughed, out of shock as well as amusement. “Um…that was
so
not what I thought you were going to say.”

“I am a therapist. But I’m also a woman. And Sawyer Beck…Well, let me just say, he was the older bad boy from Calumet, and we Hancock girls thought he was…” She trailed off, but Deni knew what Alison was thinking. She’d thought it herself.

“Dangerous,” Deni whispered.

Alison chuckled. “Yes. Exactly. Of course, we all got to know each other as adults, and of course we all changed. But Sawyer Beck was always kind of this elusive figure.”

“Like some kind of white whale?”

“A sexy-as-hell white whale.”

“I
guess
so,” Deni added, and they both laughed.

“So, he kissed you the other night. Was that all there was?”

It was Deni’s turn to flash the devilish smile. “Are you asking as my therapist or because you want to finally know what kind of kisser Sawyer Beck is?”

“Both,” Alison answered with a smile.

“Then will you tell me what kind of kisser Petey Ryan is?” Deni teased Alison. They were probably on the fringes of professionalism, but it felt good to joke with someone. Even if that someone knew all her issues.

But apparently Alison was willing to let the boundary shift a little as she smiled and said in a near whisper, “Dangerous.”

“You seem like such an unusual match,” Deni said, hoping she wasn’t offending Alison.

“I know. We are. We fought it for a long time because of that.” She glanced away for a second, then looked back to Deni and shrugged. “I got tired of fighting something that made me feel so good.”

“Is it that easy?” Deni asked. They both knew she wasn’t asking about Alison and Petey any longer.

“No. It isn’t easy at all. It’s a struggle. It may be a struggle for a long time. Or it might get better once spring is here.”

Deni nodded.

“So, last week you spent time out, shopping for something that you don’t typically wear.”

Deni nodded, one finger tracing across the pink nail of another.

“This week I’d like you to try going to a place in the area that you haven’t been to before. And take some time planning it. No spur of the moment trip to, like, the hardware store if you’ve never been there.”

“I go to the hardware store all the time. McGee’s was one of the first places I stopped in when I moved here.”

Alison chuckled. “I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. So, maybe a restaurant that you haven’t tried. Maybe in Baraga or L’Anse, some place that you have to plan for, think about, and take some time getting to.”

A sense of dread started to crawl up Deni’s back. “I don’t know if I can. I’m going to be putting in a lot of hours trying to do some research on this indoor driving range thing.” She didn’t know that to be true. Sawyer had said something to Petey the other night about keeping her on the project, though that might have changed since that kiss.

And the truth was an indoor driving range wasn’t even something she was very interested in.

Or hadn’t been before…

“Are you becoming nervous just thinking about doing it?” Alison asked, and Deni realized she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Yes, I guess so.”

“All the more reason to do it.”

Deni nodded, knowing Alison was right, yet getting the creeps just thinking about it. She tried to see herself finding a neat little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was new to her and enjoying a meal there. Maybe she’d even invite Claire or Charlie. But the vision of her bed and its warm covers supplanted her happy vision.

“You can do this, Denise,” Alison said. Deni nodded again, though she didn’t feel quite as confident. “I was surprised at dinner the other night when you introduced yourself as Deni. Is that the name you prefer?”

“Yes,” Deni said, with a bit of sheepishness. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you that. I think I thought therapy was supposed to be, I don’t know, more formal or something.”

“Therapy works best when you’re comfortable.”

“Then, after a while, it seemed weird to tell you I go by Deni, you know?”

Alison was nodding. “Of course. No worries, we’ll go with Deni moving forward.” She made to rise from her chair, and Deni followed suit.
 

As Deni was putting on her coat and boots, Alison said, “I’m not sure how often I’ll be with Petey when he might be working with you all on this project. My guess is not very often, but are you okay with situations like the other night?”

Deni thought about it, wanting to be totally honest with Alison. “I am. I was kind of nervous about what Sawyer would think knowing I was in therapy, but I didn’t want to pretend I knew you from somewhere else or start lying, you know?”

“I don’t think Sawyer would have any issue with you being in therapy. He may have the hermit reputation, but he’s hardly a caveman. He had the skills and savvy to build up that company before he…took some time off.”

“Time off?” Deni thought there was a big difference between taking time off and living a life that made people think you were the Brockway Mountain Hermit.

“After his wife died.”

The words seemed to hang in the air between them. “I…didn’t know. I guess I assumed hermits didn’t marry.”

“I’m only telling you what anyone in town would tell you—he was always kind of a loner, but he didn’t really check out until after Molly died.”

“Molly.” The name conjured up the vision of a vivacious blond with a ponytail and teasing laughter. Someone vibrant and full of life. “How’d she die?”

“Car accident,” Alison said, but there was just a tiny hesitation in her voice that made Deni want to ask more. But then, she didn’t want it to seem like she was interested in the life of Sawyer Beck—even if he had kissed her.

“That’s really sad,” she said as she did the final buttons on her coat.

“It was. It is,” Alison said. Deni moved to the door, and as she turned to say goodbye, Alison reached out and put a hand on her arm.

“You know, I think the light box may be having a good effect,” she said to Deni.

“You do? Why?”
 

“You may not have realized it, but not once today did you mention your mother.”

Deni left Alison’s offices feeling more confused than ever. But she thought that might be a good thing.

Chapter Eight

Architecture is the art of how to waste space.

~ Philip Johnson

“D
oing okay?” Sawyer asked Deni as he drove them both back to Houghton from Green Bay. She’d been quite talkative during their meeting with the owners of a now-defunct indoor driving range. She’d asked good questions—even a couple that Sawyer hadn’t thought to ask.

It’d been a good meeting, other than feeling even more so that this thing might be a pipe dream.

He’d set up this Saturday meeting yesterday morning. He couldn’t even explain to himself why he’d then emailed Deni and asked her to join him. She’d responded that she was available and had been interested in this particular range because of the fire that had put it out of business a year ago. After seeing her laptop Wednesday at the meeting, he wasn’t surprised that she’d already found this place and done the homework on it. He’d responded that he’d drive and would pick her up at the office at 8 a.m. to get to Green Bay by noon. The owners were only giving them two hours to ask questions and take a look around the site.
 

Other than an initial assessment of their meeting when they’d first left Green Bay, she hadn’t said a peep since he’d begun the drive home.

“Deni? You okay?” he asked again.

Her head nodded, but she didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” he said, taking a good look at her now. “Seriously. Are you okay?”

“Could you please keep your eyes on the road?” she answered.

But it wasn’t a bitchy tone in her voice. It was…fear.

Sawyer assessed the road conditions and the blowing snow. It wasn’t great out, but he’d driven in much worse. Besides, he’d taken his F-150 today instead of the Bronco. New tires, four-wheel drive, big-ass truck. They were fine.

“The roads aren’t that bad,” he said calmly, trying not to sound like a stereotypical boastful male driver. Just his luck that right then a particularly strong gust created a white-out, not allowing them to see more than ten feet in front of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hands clenched in her lap. Totally white-knuckling it.

“Hey, Deni, it’s okay. Really. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t drive in weather I thought was truly dangerous.”

Another short nod, but her hands clenched harder, if that was even possible.

“Would you like me to stop for a while? Pull over?”

She looked over at him with a look of relief. “Would you? Just for a little bit? Maybe until the wind calms down and visibility gets better?”

Sawyer didn’t mention that the visibility wasn’t likely to get much better as the day went on. It was late afternoon now and would only be getting darker. But he was becoming concerned. About her, not the roads. He’d driven in crappy weather like this, and a lot worse, his whole life.

“Sure,” he said, getting his bearings. “We’re coming into Iron Mountain. We can go to a coffee shop or something and wait till it gets a little better.”

Only when he saw the tension in her shoulders ease did he realize just how nervous she really was.

“You went to Tech, right?” She nodded. “And you’ve been with the firm since then?” Another nod, her hands still clenched. “Are you just really nervous because someone else is driving, or are you like this on iffy roads all the time?” Before she could answer, he added, “And if so, how are you able to function up here?” As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back. Maybe she had issues about fear or anxiety that were heightened by winter driving. Maybe that was why she was seeing Alison.

The day after their dinner, he’d briefly wondered about that—the reason Deni was in therapy. But then his mind went back to the time he himself had seen Alison on a professional basis, and his mind had shut down, not wanting to relive that awful time in his life. Instead, he’d strapped on some snowshoes and taken a walk along the Lake Superior shore, letting the vast white frozen landscape cleanse his mind.

But it hadn’t. Even though he’d stopped pondering Deni in therapy, he couldn’t stop thinking about her pink nails. Or the little dimple that appeared in her left cheek when she’d laughed at Petey’s jokes. Or if her body was as lean and strong as it appeared to be under her baggy clothing.

And he kept coming back to that kiss.

It wasn’t even as if it’d been the first kiss since Molly had died.

A woman he’d known at Tech had reached out to him when Molly died to express her sympathy. She’d known them both, though Molly more than Sawyer. At the time, she’d been married. But about a year later she’d divorced and again had gotten in touch with Sawyer. He’d made the drive to Superior every other month or so for a couple of years, neither wanting more than the comfort of the other’s body.

She’d started dating someone a couple of years ago, and Sawyer had to admit he was relieved when she’d put a halt to their get-togethers. And was genuinely happy for her when she told him she was remarrying.