An acute sense of desperation swept through him.
He still was uncertain whether or not she even considered them to be in an actual relationship. Maybe she really was just living out her fantasy of having a bit of fun with her high school crush, and once this project was done, they would be done, too.
But Sawyer refused to accept that. She’d run away from him once before, and instead of going after her, he’d married someone he didn’t love and wasted three years that could have been spent building a life with Paxton.
Dammit, he was ready to build a life with her.
He studied her profile as she listened to whoever was speaking on the other end of the line. Those delicate cheekbones were pronounced as her lips tightened with increased tension. Even with the smooth skin of her brow furrowing, she was still so damn beautiful that she took his breath away.
When she finally ended the call a couple of minutes later, Sawyer braced himself for the news. It would determine how much time he had with her before she packed up her things and headed back to Arkansas.
“That was John, my supervisor at Bolt-Myer,” Paxton said.
“I assumed as much. Are they pulling this project?”
She shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. There’s a second team from Bolt-Myer touring a flood protection system that’s closer to one of the possible alternatives being considered for Gauthier. Instead of driving out to Mobile to tour that barrier system, he wants us to join them.”
“Is that it?” Sawyer’s relief was so swift that his shoulders physically dropped.
“We have to leave tomorrow, so I’ll need to change our travel arrangements.” She swirled her chair around to face him. “But there’s still a problem,” she said.
That feeling of lead filled his stomach again as he took in the seriousness of her expression. “Bolt-Myer is concerned about the timetable. Of course, John wouldn’t come right out and say it because he approved the survey team, but he’s very skilled at giving not-so-subtle hints when he has an issue.”
“The surveyors are done,” Sawyer said. “We have a special team at the Army Corps working around the clock to get the new maps drawn up. Does he realize how tough it is to get any state agency to work overtime on something that isn’t critical?”
“Yes, he knows,” she said. “John is just being John. That’s just the way he is.”
“Well, you can tell John that he’s an idiot.”
“He’s my boss,” Paxton pointed out. “He holds my career in his hands. I generally try to refrain from calling him an idiot, as hard as that can be sometimes.”
She blew out a sigh before continuing. “Anyway, I told him the maps will be done within the next couple of days, which mollified him a bit, but the timetable is just one of the issues he has with this project. He was much more concerned with what he’s calling ‘dwindling community confidence.’”
Sawyer furrowed his forehead. “What makes him think the community doesn’t have confidence in what we’re doing?”
“Apparently, there’s video on both YouTube and Instagram of the town hall meeting from the other night. He’s concerned with how heated things became.”
Sawyer pointed in the general direction of the school where the meeting had been held. “He called that heated? I’ve seen more heated arguments over a bad call by the refs during a football game. That wasn’t people being upset with you or Bolt-Myer—they’re upset about the situation in general. People in Gauthier are passionate. They need to understand that.”
“You know that, and I know that,” Paxton said. “But the powers that be at Bolt-Myer get edgy when community members show dissatisfaction.”
“It cannot be that drastic, Pax.”
“Goodness, Sawyer, why can’t you understand this?” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ve explained it to you before. We may work in the same industry, but we’re operating in two entirely different worlds. Do you know how many engineering firms we’re up against every time we bid on a project? One viral video of a disgruntled community member going off at a town hall meeting can lead to Bolt-Myer never working on another project in Louisiana again. There are too many other capable firms the state can turn to.
“Bolt-Myer can’t write off Nathan Robottom’s rant the other night as just a community member mouthing off because it could mean the difference between tens of millions of dollars in state contracts. I can’t just write off John’s concerns because it could mean the difference between me moving into a project director or even a division head role, or being stuck as a project manager for the rest of my career. It really is that drastic.”
She brought one hand up to her temple and rubbed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I have a lot riding on this, Sawyer. Every single project I work on can make or break my career. The pressure is enough to suffocate me sometimes, but it’s been that way my entire life. It has never, ever been easy for me, but I do what I have to do, and I get the job done.”
He sat back for a moment, unable to even come up with a response after her impassioned speech.
She was right. As much as it pained him to admit it, every single thing she had said was right. He’d faced his share of hardships—he’d watched both his parents suffer through cancer and buried them both before he turned thirty-five—but he had never had to endure the kind of pressure Paxton faced every single day. And she managed it with far more strength and grace than he could ever muster.
It made him love her even more.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.”
“It’s okay,” Sawyer said. “I needed to hear it.” He walked over to her desk and captured her hands, bringing them to his lips. “You tried to tell me before, but it wasn’t until just now that I realized how much harder it has been for you.”
“Don’t turn me into some martyr,” she said.
“I’m not. I’m pointing out how strong you are. And you’re right—we need to do whatever we can to make sure this project comes in on budget and on time. It’s your career on the line here.” He clamped his hands together. “So, what do we have to do to make Idiot John happy?”
“You up for that road trip?” she asked.
“I’ll gas up the car.”
“Actually, I need to book us some flights.”
“We’re flying?”
“Yeah,” Paxton said, turning around to face her computer. “You may be familiar with the site they’re touring. It’s in southern Illinois.” Sawyer’s stomach tanked, already sensing what she was about to say. “Just outside of another small town called Cairo.”
* * *
Paxton struggled to maintain her calm as she sat across from Sawyer at the hotel restaurant where they had met the engineering team from Bolt-Myer. If she had known Clay Ridgely would be here, she would have made up an excuse for both she and Sawyer to forgo this trip. She was certain after her coworker’s third thinly veiled sexist joke of the night that Sawyer was going to reach across the table and choke him. Thankfully, the social aspect of the evening was over and talk had moved to business.
Or maybe things were about to get worse.
“I heard you hit a couple of snags on your project, Paxton,” Clay said as he sipped the whiskey that was against company regulations to indulge in on a business trip. Not as if that mattered to Clay.
“I wouldn’t call it a snag,” she said. “We’re simply being thorough. It would be foolish and irresponsible to install a flood protection system that could possibly fail to protect some areas.”
“You’re going to be over budget, aren’t you?” Clay asked, his smile sly.
“Anyone with any sense would recognize that coming in slightly over budget is nothing compared to the toll it would take on a community if it floods,” Sawyer said in a tone so
thick with disgust that only an idiot wouldn’t realize just how pissed he was.
Of course, Clay was an idiot, so the icy atmosphere around the table was lost on him.
“Maybe in your line of work,” Clay said with a guffaw. “But that’s not how we do things in the private sector, buddy.”
“Well, maybe the private sector should change its practices,” Sawyer said.
“Spoken like a state engineer,” Clay said, clapping his hand on Sawyer’s shoulder.
It was obvious that her coworker had no idea Sawyer was ready to pummel him. For just a second, Paxton was tempted to let them go at it, but she knew it would only cause more problems. She quickly turned the conversation to a fellow coworker who had just won a bid for a nuclear power plant upgrade, the first for Bolt-Myer.
She was so relieved when the bill finally arrived that she nearly cried. She wasn’t sure she could stand another ten minutes of the tension around the table—a tension everyone other than Clay seemed to feel.
He took the bill and made a production of slipping his credit card in the folder, as if he were a big spender taking the crew out for dinner. Paxton knew he’d have his expense report filled out before he got on the plane tomorrow.
When they finally left the restaurant, she walked in step with Sawyer. She could tell by the set of his jaw that he was still fuming.
“Give me ten minutes,” Paxton whispered. “I’ll meet you in your room.”
They’d booked separate rooms so as not to fuel any kind of rumors. Paxton went into her room and changed out of her favorite travel outfit, a dark brown skirt and matching jacket made of a forgivable fabric that was hard to wrinkle. She pulled on yoga pants and a roomy T-shirt, then waited another five minutes before grabbing her toiletry case and heading three doors down to Sawyer’s room.
She got a text message from him just as she arrived at his door.
Where R U?
When he answered her knock, she held the phone up to him. “Don’t you think you’re old enough to text like an adult? It’s only four additional characters to actually spell out the words are and you.”
“Would you get in here,” Sawyer said, pulling her into the room.
The first thing he did was kiss her as if it had been twenty years since they’d last seen each other instead of twenty minutes. Once she was breathless and losing feeling in her legs, he finally let go of her lips, but he held on to the rest of her.
With his hands still clamped around her upper arms, he pulled away slightly and said, “That Clay guy is terrible.”
“Like stepfather, like stepson,” Paxton said. His brow furrowed. “Clay is my supervisor, John’s stepson.”
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Sawyer said.
“Yes. We call him Clay the Jackass in the office. Rather fitting, don’t you think?”
“That’s an insult to jackasses around the world.” He took her by the hand and led her to bed, sitting up against the headboard and motioning for her to join him.
Paxton crawled onto the bed and into his lap, turning around and fitting herself against him. She pulled his arms around her, resting them just under her breasts, and leaned her head against his solid chest.
“Now do you see why I’m so determined to get the project in Gauthier done on time? Clay is my number one competition when the next project director position opens up. Don’t be fooled by that passive-aggressive crap you saw at dinner tonight. He hates me, and the feeling is mutual.”
“Why does he hate you?”
“Because I’m a better project manager, and John has no choice but to give me my due. There’s nothing he can do to dispute it.”
“So, if you come in over budget and behind schedule on Gauthier’s flood protection system, it’s exactly the kind of thing he can use against you.”
“Correct,” Paxton said.
“Why didn’t you say this from the very beginning?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Maybe because I didn’t want to look petty and spiteful?”
“Nothing wrong with pettiness and spite in my book, especially when it comes to showing up a jerk like that,” Sawyer said. “We’re going to get that revised draft of the ICP done on time, even if I don’t get to sleep for a week.”
A smile drew across her lips as she peered up at him. “You’re willing to lose sleep for me?”
“Damn right,” Sawyer said. “Of course, the reason we won’t get any sleep tonight has nothing to do with your stupid coworker. In fact,” he said as he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. “When it comes to what we’re about to do, I don’t want thoughts of Clay the Jackass in your head at all.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
She returned the favor of divesting him of his shirt before laying him flat on his back and having her way with him.
It was yet another fantasy fulfilled as she took control of their lovemaking, pinning Sawyer’s hands on either side of his head and climbing on top of him. After getting rid of their pants and underwear, Paxton grabbed the condom he’d set on the bedside table, rolled it over his rock-solid erection and quickly guided him inside her.
Their twin moans of ecstasy rang throughout the room as she lowered herself onto his lap, taking his full length inside and rocking slowly back and forth. Sawyer lifted up from the bed and caught her nipples in his mouth, first one, then the other. He licked and sucked while she pumped up and down; the rhythm of his mouth increased with every thrust of her hips. Paxton braced her hands over his solid abs, seeking purchase as she dived down and rose up, impaling herself on his hard flesh until she shattered in a swarm of sensation that radiated throughout her body.
An hour later, Paxton pulled Sawyer’s arm across her body and tucked it underneath her side. The slow and steady beat of his heart against her back was the most soothing feeling she could imagine. The desire to feel this every day for the rest of her life was so strong it scared her. She ached to fall asleep each night with him right beside her, to wake up every morning wrapped in his arms. She wanted to share her life with him.
How had she allowed this to happen?
It was so cliché. The poor girl from the wrong side of Landreaux Creek falling for the richest boy in town. But she couldn’t deny it. She’d fallen for him in every possible way.
“You’re thinking really hard,” Sawyer whispered against her ear.
She looked up over her shoulder. “How do you know that?”
“Because you aren’t talking.”
“So if I’m not talking, that means I’m thinking too hard?”
He flipped her onto her back and pinned her hands on either side of her. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Sawyer said as his lips traveled along her collarbone. “But just in case it is, I’ll give you something else to think about.”
He grazed her skin with his tongue, running it along her neck, then down to the valley of her breasts. Paxton could lose herself in the sensation of that decadent mouth, but it was the solid length of flesh steadily hardening against her stomach that had the power to make her lose her mind. As he continued to tease her with his lips, teeth and tongue, Sawyer deftly lifted her right leg over his shoulder and swiftly entered her body.
Paxton’s eyes fell shut as she concentrated on the sensation of having him inside her. The slow, deep slide of his thick erection; the heady, addicting feeling of being stretched with each thrust. His teeth skimmed over her nipple before he sucked it into his mouth and tugged hard.
She clutched his head to her chest, her back arching as she gave herself over to him. She needed him to feel how much she wanted to give him. She wanted him to have all of her. Everything.
Sawyer caught her hips and quickened his pace, plunging in and out with rapid thrusts, sending her co
mpletely over the edge within seconds.
He rolled off her and collapsed on the bed, his deep breaths renting the stillness surrounding them. Paxton stared up at the ceiling, her body pulsing with the delicious aftermath of her soul-shattering climax. But even as she basked in the afterglow of Sawyer’s lovemaking, she couldn’t help the sense of dread that stole over her.
How would she survive the heartache when her fairy tale ended and she returned to her life in Little Rock next week?
* * *
Paxton didn’t know what to make of Sawyer’s mood as they toured the purported site of the levee system that was scheduled to begin construction in a few months. She knew he didn’t like Clay, but for once her obnoxious coworker was not being his obnoxious self. Yet Sawyer still seemed...off.
As they toured the site, the representative from the Army Corps of Engineers told them the story of how the entire town of Cairo, which was located just south of here, where the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers met, had been evacuated several years ago. A levee had been purposely breeched in order to save the town from disaster.
As their tour guide pointed out the specifics of the flood protection system, Sawyer’s mood continued to darken. She looked at him with a raised brow, but he simply folded his arms over his chest and continued to pout.
Once they were done and on their way back to the rental car, she asked, “You want to share what has you so pissy?”
“You think I’m being pissy?” he asked.
“You refused to even speak to the engineer who was gracious enough to show us around today. Yes, I’d call that being pissy.”
“He fed you a load of bull,” Sawyer said.
Paxton stopped with her hand on the door. “What are you talking about?”
“All this talk of how great this new levee system will be? It’s bull. What he didn’t point out is what it will do to the farmland and wildlife just a few miles southwest of here,” Sawyer said. He folded his arms over the top of the car and stared at her. “I’ve seen it before,” he said.
Stay with Me Forever Page 17
