“Is that what got you interested in following your dad’s footsteps? Tinkering?” I dodge a branch that hangs low over the path.
“Not at first. He didn’t really experiment with new materials or techniques, so I didn’t have an opportunity to tinker in the beginning, and that was fine because as long as I was working with my hands and not sitting at a desk, I was happy. I worked for him for probably seven years before I got curious about new trends and trying to do things with different materials, and at first he thought I was crazy, but then people started requesting that, and he realized it was a good angle. A few years later, he decided to retire and sold me the business.”
“Do you like owning the business?”
“Most of the time. I still hate paperwork, but it comes with the territory. And I like picking which jobs we take and designing what we do.”
“Will Wes work for you one day? Full time, I mean?” I pick up one of our finds so Anthony isn’t stuck with them all.
“No, he has other plans.”
“Like what?”
Anthony picks up another branch and adds it to the small bundle he’s carrying. “He’s going to college on a football scholarship next year. He’d love to play professionally, but if he gets to work in the industry at all, he’ll be happy.”
“That’s wonderful. I can tell he really loves the game.”
“Yeah, he said you were a big fan yourself. He seemed impressed by how well you know the game. How’d you get into football?”
“I suppose I always liked it, but Sawyer’s dad is a football player, so I really got into it when we were together.” I pick up another branch.
“I thought you said Sawyer hated football?” He frowns over his shoulder, confused.
Oh. My. God. Anthony might be the first person to learn about Sawyer’s dad and not get distracted by trying to find out who he is, when we were together, and why we split. That is…refreshing. No, that doesn’t quite do it. Monumental. It’d gotten to where I stopped telling people about her dad to avoid the inevitable follow-up, but something about Anthony makes me volunteer information I usually keep private. Must be those damn mysterious eyes. Although they weren’t looking at me just now and I still told him the truth. Now that he’s starting to open up, he’s so easy to be real with, and I’m starting to like that. Maybe I’ll be baring my soul sooner than expected.
“She does hate it,” I answer.
“How can she hate it if that’s what her father does?” He frowns.
“Football made her dad famous, which meant everyone wanted a piece of him, so he didn’t have anything left to give her except material things. That’s what she believes anyway.” I shrug, awkwardly given the branches I’m holding.
“Is she right?” Anthony asks softly.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t hate football?”
“It’s not the sport that’s the problem. It’s the man. That’s what Sawyer doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know how to hold him accountable, so she blames his job.” I shrug again and start walking, not because I don’t want to talk about it, but because my arms are getting tired.
“I thought she blamed his multiple girlfriends,” he says as he falls into step beside me. I cast him a curious look, and he continues. “She might have mentioned that when I took her to practice the other day.”
“Well, that’s definitely part of the problem.” I sigh. “But she attributes the girlfriends to football, too. If he wasn’t rich and famous because of football, there would probably be far fewer of them.”
Anthony nods, following that logic. “What happens when there’s no more football to blame?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“I’ve been wondering that myself.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that scenario is coming up, because Colt probably only has a few more years in the league, but I don’t want to talk about Colt. Not now.
Anthony shuffles the branches in his arms. “I think she’ll be okay. She seems like a strong kid.”
“Thanks.” I take the compliment, which I do appreciate, though after all that heaviness, we walk the rest of the way in silence.
It takes several trips up and down the trail to collect all the branches, but we finally get them rounded up and deposited in the back of the trailer. Anthony spends some time arranging them in different configurations before declaring that we probably have enough to work with and can head back.
“Do you want to drive?” he asks.
“Yes!” I can’t contain my excitement, because riding had been fun, but I assume driving will be better. “But I’ve never driven at ATV before. What do I do?”
He smiles at me, clearly entertained by my lack of outdoor experience, but he walks me through the basics like how to start and stop and what to do to mind the trailer. Then he climbs on behind me and presses his front to my back, placing his big hands on my hips. As we start off, those strong hands are nestled against me, but as we drive, they start to wander, along my thighs, up my sides, over my breasts. I feel him growing hard behind me, and I can’t help shifting in my seat so I’m pressed closer against him.
“I thought if you sat in front and couldn’t touch me, I’d get through this drive, but I can’t sit this close to you without wanting to touch you everywhere,” he growls in my ear, hands roaming all over me, making me wet and needy. “I’m trying not to go so fast so soon, but I want more.” Anthony must sense my own longing because he slides his fingers down the front of my shorts and in between my legs, coating me with my own desire.
“I like how wet you get when I touch you.” He nuzzles against my neck, and I swear that makes me even wetter. For a quiet guy, Anthony is quite vocal about what he thinks of my body, and I love it.
“I like the way you talk when you touch me,” I pant, trying to keep us steady as we close in on the cabin in front of us.
“Do you? Then I’ll tell you as soon as we get back to the cabin, sweetheart, I’m going to turn you around and take you right on top of this ATV, the way I wanted to when we first climbed on and you wrapped your arms around me.”
We drive on, my legs spread wide on the ATV and Anthony’s fingers stroking delicately over my clit. I’m not sure how we manage to get back in one piece, but as soon as we do, he makes good on his word.
***
My body hums for hours after Anthony drops me off at home with a mind-blowing kiss and a promise to see me at the house on Monday.
I suppose my lingering euphoria can be attributed to the fact that this is the first time in nearly ten years that I’ve had sex, although truth be told, I think the sex is only part of what has me wired.
Our first encounter wasn’t just physically satisfying, it was emotionally satisfying. Even though we were both anxious and needy, we took the time to explore each other’s bodies, savoring every touch and every taste. That was almost more intimate than sex itself because it indicates a deeper connection than just some race to the finish. A race to the finish is fine, but feeling treasured along the way is infinitely better. The second, well, the only way to describe that is carnal.
Anthony had taken me, hard, right on top of the ATV the moment I turned it off, and I loved every wicked minute of it. In fact, I’m not sure which I like better, the sweet, reverent lovemaking where he seemed to worship every inch of me or the animalistic fucking. Both were immensely satisfying in their own way and something I want to experience repeatedly.
Truth be told, though, I suspect the sex is so good because I feel connected to him in ways I never expected, especially as it relates to being a parent.
Then there are the scars left by the pain of becoming a single parent. I’d never dishonor Anthony or his wife by comparing my divorce to her death, but I will say that regardless of how you become a single parent, heartbreak is involved. First you mourn what you lost, then you pour all your energy into the child that’s all you have left, then when you’re ready to try living again, it feels like life has passed you by because your peers now
have the life you’ve already lived, the one where they’re getting married and having babies while you’re teaching your kid how to drive. Worst of all, you’re afraid of repeating past mistakes, afraid of living through heartbreak again, afraid of how you and your child will survive another massive change in your lives.
Putting aside the similarities in our lives, I’m drawn to Anthony as a man, not just a sexual partner, because his internal qualities are just as appealing as his external ones. He’s honest, he’s supportive, and he’s a good dad. And today I learned he’s also a good listener. I mean, I was floored that he didn’t ask more questions about Colt and instead focused on Sawyer. You can tell a lot about a person simply by the questions they ask, and I can tell that Anthony respects me enough to listen when I want to talk while still giving me the freedom to share only what I’m ready to share. Not many people do that, especially once the words “football player” enter into the equation. So yeah, I admire that about Anthony, and I guess that makes me feel safe with him.
It’s been a long time since I felt safe with a man. But I do with Anthony, and that’s probably what I like most about him. Not his looks, not his support, but his integrity.
Feeling restless, I turn on the TV to find a movie, typical Saturday night in our house.
Sawyer emerges from her room.
“How’s the search going?” I ask. “Find a place to stay in Costa Rica?”
“Maybe,” she responds. “I’m debating between the beach and the jungle.”
“Why not both? I thought that’s what you liked about it?”
“They’re not really convenient to one another.” She chews on her lip. “The jungle has this little treehouse village, it’s like the first totally sustainable resort of its kind, and they have these houses up in the trees and suspended bridges and ziplines to go between them. I’ve never seen anything like that. But it would take about a day to get there once you’re in Costa Rica, and that would take away from beach time. So I’m not sure.”
“Why don’t you ask your dad if you could stay a few extra days? Training camp won’t have started, so he wouldn’t be missing anything.”
“His girlfriend doesn’t want him gone that long.” Sawyer rolls her eyes. “She’s pushing for the treehouse village. I think she thinks there won’t be as many women in bathing suits there.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “Sorry,” I say when Sawyer pins me with a glare.
“It is kind of funny,” she admits grudgingly. “I wonder if she knows her time is almost up?”
“What?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, Dad always breaks up with his girlfriends right when training camp starts. So her time’s almost up.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“I’m not trying to be mean.” Sawyer shrugs. “It’s the truth. It happens every year.”
“That can’t possibly be true,” I say.
“Yes, it is. He’s single during the season, finds someone during his time off, they’re inseparable during that time, then they break up when the season starts. Have you really never noticed that before?” She studies me.
I think back over the past several years, and since I’ve never even met one of these girls, I can’t say I know when Colt starts or stops dating them. I never noticed a pattern. “Well, no,” I stammer. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I assume they get in the way of football, just like we did, right?”
These are the comments that break my heart, the ones where Sawyer thinks we were discarded because of football. We weren’t discarded, we were ignored, but not because of Colt’s career. He could be a banker or a teacher or anything else, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he confuses things with time when it comes to showing people you care for them. Football may have exacerbated that misconception because he had so much money to buy things with, and he was often surrounded with people who valued money or fame too much, but if he wasn’t already prone to that way of thinking, football wouldn’t have made that seed flourish. At least I don’t think it would have. I know Sawyer would disagree, but I still feel that this particular character flaw would exist with or without football, and until Colt learns that love isn’t just about buying things, then the people around him will always come and go.
“Sawyer,” I remind her, “football is a career like any other. It’s what your dad did with his time outside football that made us leave.”
“Well, if he had a normal job where he didn’t travel or get surrounded by groupies, maybe he’d make better choices.”
“Maybe he would.” I throw my hands up in surrender, not interested in having this conversation again. “But it’s a moot point. I may not agree with his choices or how he shows his love and affection for us, but he’s showing it the only way he knows how. Your annual vacation with your dad is the only quality time you get to spend with just him, so let’s focus on planning things you two can do together. Now, what do you want to do? I’ll help you figure out if there’s time for everything.”
In the end, with multi-city flights instead of a round-trip flight out of the capital, we put together an itinerary that will let Sawyer do everything she wants. I use Colt’s card to book the tickets, knowing that he’d either forget or book the wrong thing if I left it to him, and we send him the confirmation so he can put it in his calendar. Then I show Sawyer the branches Anthony and I found during our outing that day.
“And he’s really going to turn these random branches into an arbor like that?” Sawyer points at a picture I’d snapped of Anthony’s sketch.
“Yeah, he is. Pretty cool, huh?”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I bet he’d be happy for you to watch. He’s going to start on it Monday. Why don’t you come to the house with me that day? We can work on the cabinets in the morning and then start on the arbor when he gets there.”
“Um, I have practice Monday night, but I would like to see that. It’d be cool to help work on the arbor for Aunt Lisa.”
“Maybe he can get there early and we can work on the arbor a bit, and then I’ll take you to practice?”
“Yeah, okay. I haven’t really seen the house in a while. It must be getting close to done, right?”
“I think so,” I say. “But this is way more involved than the stuff we’ve done around here, so there might be more to it than I realize. The plumbing and electric are done, so now the biggest things are the floors and putting the kitchen and bath together.”
“Okay. If we do that Monday, can we maybe go shopping Tuesday for my trip?”
“Yeah, sweetie, that sounds like a plan.” I give her a hug.
Chapter 14
Sawyer/Wes
***SAWYER***
“The crew is usually here by now, but they had some sort of meeting at the school, so they’ll come later,” Mom says as she takes me through the house to show me what had been done.
“School? You mean you were serious when you said kids from my school are working on the house?” My jaw drops.
“Yeah, Anthony’s son has been working for him for years so he’s pretty capable, and he does great work, don’t you think?” She gestures to the open floor plan before her that combines the living and dining rooms and leads back to a kitchen.
“It looks great, Mom,” I say. She’s always fancied herself an amateur designer, so she’s loving the opportunity to work on a project like this flip. I’m happy for her, but truth be told, I’m glad this was only my first day helping out. I guess I can understand the appeal of taking something old and making it new, but I don’t want to spend my summer doing it. I’ve grown up being taught how to fix things around the house—Mom thinks it’s important for a woman to be able to do that stuff on her own, and I guess I can see her point—but that doesn’t mean I want to do that stuff any more than is necessary.
After we tour the house, Mom and I go to the garage, where her workstation is set up. Today we’re painting the kitc
hen cabinets. I like painting, so as long as I have to be here to help out, I’m at least doing a job I like.
The whole garage has a bunch of folding tables set up with cabinet doors spread out on them. Mom had picked a soft, pretty gray color to put on the cabinets, and I can tell it will look nice in the kitchen because those base cabinets are already done. She gives me a paintbrush, and we get to work.
The doors have already been primed, so all we have to do is the top coat. It’s pretty easy, sort of peaceful like running, so my mind wanders while I go through the motions, and before long, I’m thinking about my parents. Well, Mom anyway.
She has been pretty happy lately. Not that she isn’t usually, but there’s something different about her. It started around the time she got this house, so I’m thinking it has to do with the contractor she hired. He’s pretty good looking, for an older guy, and he seems nice. Plus, I’m pretty sure I saw him kiss her last week, and he took her out on Saturday, so he has to be the reason she’s happier than normal.
It’s weird to think of my mom liking a guy, not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because she just never has. Not since my dad, and that was so long ago I barely remember it.
I always wondered why my mom never dated. She’s pretty, and she’s not even that old, but for some reason she doesn’t go out with guys. Maybe she figures my dad dates enough for both of them, I don’t know. I always felt bad that she’s alone, but it never bothered her, so I guess I figured she always would be. Her best friend is getting married soon, though, so my mom probably needs someone else to hang out with. If that’s a guy, that’s cool. As long as she doesn’t make a spectacle of herself or go wild dating lots of guys, I’m good with it.
I think about telling her I’m happy for her, but that just seems weird, because we never talk about that stuff . Instead, I tell her about running club and things I’m excited to do on vacation with my dad. I don’t have much else to share. I don’t have the most active social life, because I can’t drive yet, and I don’t get involved in a lot of stuff at school. I’ve always found my classmates a little immature, and while I try to be friendly, I just don’t have a ton in common with them. I mean, I like clothes and boys as much as the next girl, but my life doesn’t revolve around them, especially since the boys I know at my school are just that, boys. Nothing to write home about.
Totally Inevitable Intent Page 13
