Beauty and the Bayou

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Beauty and the Bayou Page 18

by Erin Nicholas


  Juliet grinned up at him. “Even you?”

  “Oh yeah. Until I forgot.” Unable to help himself he leaned over, putting his lips nearly on hers. “Thanks for remindin’ me.”

  “Happy to help,” she said softly.

  When he kissed her, he did so without hands, or even tongue. But he still felt it to his bones. This woman rocked him. In ways that he hadn’t been before and in ways he wasn’t sure he’d recover from.

  And he was fine with that.

  When he lifted his head, they looked at each other for a long moment.

  “Yeah, this distracting thing is going very well,” he finally told her.

  “What is it I’m distracting you from again?” she asked.

  “Don’t remember.”

  “Perfect.”

  One more goofy grin and then they actually managed to move apart.

  Juliet reached for her safety vest and Sawyer smiled and shook his head. That seemed second nature to her now. He didn’t think she was actually worried about being run into or over, but the vest made her feel better. No, actually, it made her feel like she was reassuring everyone else so they’d leave her the hell alone. He lifted a board up onto a sawhorse, thinking about what he knew about her now. He loved it all.

  She was strong and smart and self-deprecating and brave. She could think of the craziest What-Ifs there were, but she didn’t let those stop her from doing the things she wanted to do and felt she needed to do. She just used them to help her prepare. She didn’t expect people to make exceptions for her. She researched and planned and then did her thing.

  Caleb needed to meet her.

  Sawyer measured the board in front of him and cut through it as he thought about his friend. Caleb Moreau was a firefighter and had been raising his niece Shay since his sister’s death two years ago. Recently he’d found out that Shay had sustained a brain injury in the car accident that had killed her parents. The injury caused some weakness and coordination issues along with some learning struggles. Caleb had Lexi, the love of his life and Shay’s favorite person, helping him navigate all the new information and therapies Shay’s diagnosis had brought into his life, but it could be good for him to see a strong, successful woman like Juliet obviously living a full life and managing all of her challenges.

  He looked up at the woman he was more and more intrigued with every moment.

  She was carefully measuring every cut five times—and that wasn’t a random number he’d thought up—she literally measured five times before every cut.

  He straightened to watch.

  There really might be such a thing as too careful. That was the kind of thing that could get annoying, actually. If anyone else was doing it. He simply felt amused and slightly baffled by Juliet. That might have something to do with the fact that he really did love her big brown eyes. And how she filled that safety vest out. But it also could have been that she didn’t seem worried. She didn’t seem stressed or under pressure. Not about any of it, now that he thought about it. She’d put mosquito netting up over her bed, but it seemed practical when she did it, not overreactive. She hadn’t made a big deal about it. She hadn’t freaked out about the bat. She’d given a little shriek when he’d flown away, but she’d seemed way more annoyed about him ruining the sexy mood than worried.

  The woman had decided to spend time on the bayou, so she’d looked up what it was like to live down here. She’d missed a few things, but when she’d found the mosquito stats she hadn’t run back to Virginia. She’d bought mosquito netting. And hung the damned thing herself, the first time anyway. He was sure she would have figured out how to get the bat out of her room if he hadn’t been there, too.

  She might not be a bayou girl. She might seem like the last person who could live down here. The lifestyle here was laid-back and take-it-as-it-comes. Perfectionists and planners weren’t really nurtured here. There was simply too much that was unpredictable about living on the bayou, or honestly, life in general. But she’d handle whatever came up. He really liked that.

  And in the middle of all of this wild-and-weird stuff she was encountering down here, she was reaching out and linking her pinky with his, helping him handle his stuff, too.

  Fuck, he wanted her.

  He might have grabbed the back of her pants and kept her from going over the edge of the dock that first day, but he felt like he’d been the one dangling over the edge off the dock—metaphorically—for the past few months and she was now the one with the firm grip on him.

  She glanced up at him as he set down his saw. He took a step toward her, reached for the bottle of sunscreen she had resting on top of a stack of wood to his right, and then reached for the bottom of his shirt, stripped it up his body and over his head. He squirted a little lotion into his palm and began rubbing it over his lower abs.

  His neck, back, and shoulders were a lot more at risk of sunburn than his abs, but that wasn’t really the point here.

  Juliet started to set her saw down as well but missed the edge of the board where she was trying to put it. Because her eyes were riveted on his hand. Exactly as he’d intended. The saw tipped and fell to the grass. She jumped to the side so that it would miss her toe and in doing so, she knocked into the sawhorse holding the board she’d been working on. The board flew up, just the way she’d said it could the first day—he wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself—along with the metal ruler she’d been using to measure. The ruler glanced off her safety goggles making her flinch, then freeze.

  It all happened within seconds, of course, but it was quite a chain of events. And he’d be a liar if he said that he didn’t feel a little smug about causing it. He liked having an effect on her. She sure as hell had one on him.

  Sawyer watched her squeeze her eyes shut and take a deep breath, then she set down the pencil she was holding, picked up the board that had fallen, set the saw on top of it. And returned to measuring as if nothing had happened.

  Sawyer grinned and moved around the end of the board she was marking and then up close to her. Close enough she could easily smell the sunscreen.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, without looking up. But she had stopped measuring. And maybe breathing.

  “Remembering how to be the old Sawyer.”

  “Oh.” She looked up at him. Kind of.

  She looked at his pecs anyway. And his shoulders. And abs. And arms. And back to his pecs. And down at his abs again.

  “And what does that mean exactly?” she asked.

  “It means getting some sun, getting a little sweaty, flirting with a gorgeous woman I want badly. And having some fun.” He paused. Then held out the bottle of sunscreen. “Help me put this on?”

  Juliet wet her lips and her eyes finally made it back to meet his. “Smear lotion all over your naked chest and back with my bare hands?”

  Heat arced through him. “Yeah.”

  “That does sound like fun.”

  He gave her a slow smile. “I’m happy to run my hands over your bare body in return.”

  She held up her arms. “Long sleeves.”

  “We can fix that.” God, he wanted to fix that.

  “I think I need to be very careful to keep all of my safety stuff on when you’re around, as evidenced by the fact that I literally could have put a metal ruler in my eye a minute ago without the safety goggles.”

  “I might need to take sharp objects away,” he agreed. Then he popped the top of the lotion bottle. Because he needed her hands on him. Now.

  She pulled her work gloves off, turned her hands palm up, cupping them slightly, and held them out.

  Sawyer squeezed lotion into them, then watched as she rubbed her hands together, her eyes again running over his torso.

  “You okay?”

  “Just trying to decide where to start.”

  He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrists, tugging her forward. She tripped over the board on the grass and her hands ended up splayed on his chest.
r />   “Right here,” he told her gruffly.

  She started rubbing, spreading the lotion over his skin, making slow, torturous circles over his chest. She covered his pecs, her palms brushing over his nipples, sending bursts of heat through him. She stroked up to his shoulders and up the sides of his neck.

  Her touch made everything in him tighten, while at the same time making him feel like he was able to exhale for the first time in months. This felt so good, so fucking normal and right, and was pleasure on a level he had nearly forgotten.

  Juliet held a hand out for more lotion. Not because his skin needed more protection, but clearly because she was enjoying the touching as much as he was. He squirted more into her palm and she ran her hands over his ribs and down his sides and across his abs. Twice. Then three times. Then again. Just as he was about to grab her hand and urge it lower, she slid around him, trailing her fingers around to his back, then took the bottle from him. He felt the coolness of the lotion hitting the skin between his shoulder blades. She spread it up and down his back, on both sides of his spine, lingering over the area above his waistband. Her hands circled until, he assumed, the lotion was rubbed in.

  Finally, she stepped back. “That really was fun.”

  He quickly turned, grabbing her hand before she could get away. “Let’s keep doing it.”

  She dropped the bottle of lotion as he ran his hands up her arms to cup her face. She let him tip her head back and she spread her fingers over his ribs, running them up and down like before.

  Heat arrowed to his cock and he pressed close.

  “We’re never going to finish this dock.”

  “I don’t care about the dock.”

  “You do.”

  “Not as much as I care about getting you naked.”

  She smiled. “You cared about it more than anything two weeks ago.”

  “That’s before you reminded me that I kind of liked the old Sawyer.”

  “The old Sawyer does seem like a pretty great guy.” She ran her hands up and down his sides. “But I happen to like this one, too.”

  “I’m really glad.” He lowered his mouth to hers, taking her lips in a slow, deep kiss.

  She arched into him, her fingers curling into his sides, but the lotion made it too slippery for her to really get any grip. Instead, she dropped her hands to his waistband, hooking her thumbs in his belt loops and turned him, backing him up against the stack of wooden slats behind him.

  He almost grinned. He liked the show of dominance. He was so much bigger than she was that he could easily lift her and put her wherever he wanted her. But he liked having her show him that she wanted this, too. Of course, he couldn’t grin. His mouth was far too busy with other things.

  Sawyer pressed his thumb against her chin slightly, encouraging her to open, and she did with a sweet, hot sigh. He swept his tongue along hers, tasting her deeply.

  He didn’t care that they were outside, he didn’t care that it was very likely most, if not all, of his family was watching, he didn’t care that the dock might not get done or that he’d just knocked her hard hat off. Even more, she didn’t seem to care that he’d just knocked her hard hat off.

  Juliet moaned as he cupped the back of her head and pressed into him, trying to get closer. She stepped in and suddenly jerked, her mouth ripped away from his, her body falling. Instinctively, he grabbed her, hauling her up against him.

  Her big brown eyes blinked up at him.

  “What happened?”

  She grimaced. “Stepped on the lotion bottle with my wobbly ankle and it rolled.”

  He gave a soft chuckle. “Even when we’re trying to be safe, stuff happens.”

  She didn’t smile. She pulled back slightly and he let her go. She took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she finally agreed. “That’s the thing.”

  He frowned. “What’s the thing?”

  “That even when I do everything right to be safe and avoid problems, stuff still happens.”

  “That was my lotion bottle, not yours.”

  She shrugged. “I wear hips waders and a life jacket so I’m safe on the dock and then almost fall off that dock and break my neck.”

  Sawyer shook his head. “Come on.”

  “You said that yourself.”

  “I was—” He bit off what he was going to say. But not soon enough.

  Juliet lifted a brow. “Overreacting?”

  “No. I was…” He blew out a breath.

  “You either agree it was an overreaction, or you agree I could have pitched over the edge of the dock and ended up paralyzed.”

  “Could have,” he agreed. “But you didn’t. I caught you.”

  “I put up a mosquito net and caught a bat.”

  “I took care of the bat.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, you took care of all of it.”

  “And I caught you just now.” He lifted a hand to her cheek.

  “Yeah, and I’m decked out head to toe—hard hat to steel-toed boots—to work around wood, and then I try to make out with you for ten seconds, and the one area I don’t have protected ends up hurt.”

  She held up her hand, palm toward him. There was a big sliver of wood embedded in the tip of her middle finger. She must have grabbed the wood behind him when she’d slipped.

  “I know it’s stupid. It’s just a little sliver. It’s not a big deal.” She took a breath. “But dammit…I just took my gloves off for five minutes…to put sunscreen on you so you wouldn’t burn.”

  Her bottom lip actually wobbled with that and with his hand on her face, Sawyer dragged his thumb over that lip. “Okay, first of all, let’s just both be honest that the sunscreen was not about being safe,” he said, looking into her eyes. “That was pure and simple foreplay.”

  Her throat worked as she swallowed hard.

  “Second of all, I can take care of this sliver, too,” he told her. “You’re not failing at being safe, Juliet.” Somehow he knew that’s what this was about. He’d felt the same fucking way. It was frustrating as hell to work to do the right thing, be safe, keep others safe, and have shit still happen but…that was life.

  And until this gorgeous, slightly klutzy, quirky, amazing woman had walked onto his dock, he’d been fighting it. Just like she was. Sure, she had her stuff together, she’d accepted her situation and was more than making the best of it. She was strong and confident and capable. But of course, there were moments when it was overwhelming and frustrating. She was human.

  And he was falling for her.

  “Okay,” she said after a moment.

  Yeah, it was all okay. And taking care of the sliver meant he needed to take her into the office. The interior office. That had a door. With a lock on it.

  He took her hand—the non-injured one—kicked the bottle of sunscreen out of the way and started across the grass.

  They headed around the side of the building. They could get to the interior office through the front office where the tourists were signed in and paid for their tours, but that would only delay him getting Juliet alone.

  He really needed to get her alone.

  They rounded the side of the building and Sawyer opened the door that led into the office. It had once been an office anyway. It was where Sawyer’s and Tommy’s grandfathers had sat at their desks and made plans for the business…and drank a lot of “bayou whiskey,” aka moonshine. The desks were still there. So were the chairs. The filing cabinets, too. It was where Sawyer and Tommy had sat when they’d first taken over the business, feeling important and grown-up, and in over their heads. But they’d sat in their grandfathers’ creaking old chairs, lifted up mason jars of moonshine, and determined to grow the family business no matter what it took.

  This was where he’d assumed their grandsons would sit someday doing the same thing.

  But as Sawyer ushered Juliet into the room, the sadness was less acute than it had been the last time he’d stepped into the office.

  He’d largely avoided the office over the
past several months. It had never been a place to get actual paperwork done. That was clear by the stacks of papers, folders and invoices covered in a fine layer of dust that sat on top of the two desks, the seats of three chairs, and the tops of the two file cabinets. It had been a place of conversations. Plans. Arguments. Celebrations. Mourning.

  They’d all toasted their first month in the black in here. They’d fought about their first six months in the red in here, too. It was where they’d celebrated adding Josh and Owen as partners.

  It was also where Sawyer had gotten drunk after Tommy had died.

  Five nights in a row.

  This room was the heart of the Boys of the Bayou.

  It was the place that grounded them. Reminded them of the history here and what really mattered beyond the accounting ledgers and merchandise orders and online reviews and tour schedules. This room reminded them that the business was about their roots and the future at the same time.

  Stepping into the room with Juliet felt stupidly hopeful to him. Maybe she could make the office feel good again. Like she had so many other things.

  Sawyer shook his head as he closed the door behind them. He hadn’t realized what a huge fucking sap he’d become since Tommy’s death.

  Juliet looked around, scanning the room as she turned to face him, not saying a word, clearly waiting for him to say or do whatever came next.

  He crossed to one of the file cabinets and pulled the third drawer open. He grabbed the white metal box from within, then shut the drawer and opened the one under it. He took the glass jar from that one and pushed it shut. He crossed to the desk, pushed a stack of papers out of the way and said, “Come here.”

  “What are you doing?” But she started toward him.

  “Showing you that you don’t always have to be the one prepared for anything and everything.” He held up the box. “You don’t always have to be the one with the first aid kit ready to go.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, then she smiled. “I’ve got one right outside.”

  “I’m sure you do.” That didn’t surprise him a bit.

  “It might be better stocked.” She pushed herself up to sit on the desk in the spot he’d cleared.

 

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