Hmm…what would an LA actress who wasn’t hung up on him say? “Sorry, but I had such a crazy time at this bar tonight, dancing and drinking, and you know how that is. I’m completely exhausted.” She sighed and added a hair flip for good measure. “Maybe some other time.”
Before she broke character, she hurried into her house. It would’ve felt like such a smooth exit if the stupid door didn’t refuse to close. She lifted it like she usually did, but even then, it only made this grinding screech. And then one of the hinges completely gave way. Her door banged against the frame and then fell off altogether, crashing down onto her porch with a loud bang that echoed for an eternity.
She stared at it, hoping that her vision would suddenly shift and the universe would be like, Just kidding, I wouldn’t do that to you.
Sawyer strolled up the sidewalk, toolbox in hand. “Havin’ some trouble, ma’am?” he asked with a big grin, playing up the southern accent. She hadn’t realized he’d been holding it back until he let it out full-force. “Did that partyin’ you mentioned include pumping steroids?”
She frowned at him. “The door’s been messed up forever and I tried to close it and it—”
He stepped over the door, bringing him so close that all her words suddenly left her. “No worries. I’ll take care of it.” In addition to the cologne he’d been wearing earlier, there was a hint of sawdust mixed in now. He was dirt-smudged in a completely sexy way, as if it had been applied in all the right places. “That is, if you won’t call the police on me for making noise this late.”
She gave him a little shove and he grinned at her.
Hotness equals…he’s really hot.
“If you’d be so kind as to set this inside.” He handed her the toolbox—which was heavier than she expected and came dangerously close to slipping from her fingers and breaking her toe as she set it down—and then bent to grab the door. She couldn’t help but notice he had a nice butt to go with his nice everything else. He lifted the door and leaned it against the side of the house. “I can’t believe it’s held on at all. These screws are too tiny for such a heavy door.” He glanced at her with his eyebrows raised, as if waiting for a reply. Was he expecting her to comment on the tiny screws as well?
“I guess I was too busy trying to maneuver it into place to notice the screw size. Because, yeah. I usually pay attention to that.”
His lips broke into the kind of smile that left a girl a little light-headed. “You’re cute, you know that?” He reached out and squeezed her hand—such a simple gesture, but it certainly got her heart pounding. Then his fingers curled around her palm and her stomach started doing somersaults.
This was probably how he got all the girls. He was Sawyer Raines, the guy who’d dated only the prettiest and most popular in high school. The guy who’d walked away from her like he’d catch her nerdiness when she’d tried to talk to him back then.
She pulled her hand free and turned to the toolbox. “So what do you need?”
He stared at her for a moment, his steady green eyes boring into her. “The electronic screwdriver. It’s right there on top.”
Their fingers brushed when she handed it over, like they did in all her romance books and movies. Tingling heat wound up her arm. It was becoming harder and harder to hold on to all the things she’d told herself to remember on the drive here.
Especially when he got to work on her door. Hot guys working with tools instantly became that much hotter. The fact that he was helping her out showed that he wasn’t a complete jerk—she wasn’t ruling out partial jerk, though. In fact, thinking he was nice was what had gotten her in trouble in high school. She remembered how he’d once picked up the sweater she’d dropped. He’d held it out for her, and she’d stared, unable to form words.
Then there was the time her biology partner was being teased and Sawyer had told the other guys on the football team to leave him alone—that had been when she knew he was more than the typical popular jock, and her crush grew to borderline obsession.
Regardless of a nice gesture here and there, though, she was no longer stupid enough to think that Sawyer Raines would ever fall for her. Flirt, sure, maybe take her out a time or two. He probably even thought he could use her for a night. Well, he had another thing coming.
She wanted an actual nice guy, one who’d always been nice and who would appreciate her for who she was. She was done with dating guys for sport. It was like catch and release fishing, and she needed to hook one that she didn’t want to throw back, one that wanted to be caught. A simple glance into the past would reveal that she and Sawyer weren’t meant to be.
She had a flash of the day she’d decided to be bold and ask Sawyer out. She’d dressed up—purple bohemian skirt, black tank top, and nearly every necklace and bracelet she owned. She’d used curling mousse in her hair, accidentally swallowed Listerine—which burned quite a bit on the way down, FYI—and planned out the exact time she’d talk to him.
Brynn’s pulse had picked up speed as Sawyer came around the corner, brown hair messy, one strap of his backpack casually draped over his shoulder. Perfect. Like always. And maybe he would be hers soon.
She had gulped a mouthful of air and stepped into his path. “Hey, Sawyer.” Her hands were shaking and she gathered her skirt in them to try to hide it.
He’d looked down at her, his eyebrows drawn together.
“How’s it going?” she asked, wondering if she should move past the small talk and blurt out what she wanted to ask him. This was the moment she’d pictured in her mind for a good year, after all. She needed to just go for it.
But then she had become acutely aware of the fact that drops of sweat were forming on her forehead and her heart felt like it might pop right out of her chest. “I, um. I was wondering if you’d want to…go to prom…with me?”
He stared at her like she’d spoken to him in another language, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Prom…?” He shook his head and walked away.
It was right then that she’d understood why people called it a crush. It was like she was a disgusting bug he’d stomped on, and all she could do was lie there, one leg twitching as the life slowly drained from her.
She’d leaned against the wall, feeling hot tears prick her eyes. Why had she thought he might say yes? What had possessed her to try? She’d cast one last glance at his retreating back, then called her mom, told her she was sick, and begged her to come pick her up.
Even now, Brynn could feel the residual pain in her chest. The Jane Austen–inspired dress she’d made for the prom she never got to go to was still in her closet, unworn thanks to the rejection she felt every time she looked at it. The accidental underwear flashing during the school play happened a couple weeks after, and then she had just counted the days until school was over, her goal becoming survival.
They should have a warning over the doors of high schools so people wouldn’t be shocked at how awful it was. Something like, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
“Could you help me move it into place?” Sawyer asked.
Brynn blinked, surprised at the tears there. She wasn’t crying, but they were near the surface, seconds from dropping if she didn’t choke them back. On autopilot, she grabbed the other side of the door and held it as Sawyer stood way too close, smelling way too good, putting the screws in place.
So he was being nice to her right now. Did that make it okay to have treated her so badly back when she was a bit of a disaster? Could she really just forget about the way he’d crushed her?
The hurt rose up again, the pinch in her chest saying the answer was no. What she needed to do was go back to cold indifference, no matter what.
She needed to get Sawyer Raines out of her mind for good.
…
Sawyer walked into his house—no, scratch that. Suddenly he was thinking of it as his, and he needed to remind himself that after it became the perfect house, he was going to sell it. He set down the toolbox, then glanced out the window facing Br
ynn’s place. He couldn’t figure out the girl.
He’d also slipped up, telling her she was cute, when that thought was supposed to stay inside his head. Way to keep things professional, Raines.
Not only was she an actress—the exact type of girl he’d sworn off thanks to his ex—but he was basically her boss right now. So it’d be totally unprofessional to start up something with that beautiful, sassy girl next door.
Yet…
Well, when she had been standing there staring at her fallen door, he’d wanted to comfort her. He’d found himself staring at her lips, thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. And when she pulled away, he wanted to be able to direct her to come closer instead.
Why was this girl messing with his head so much? He needed to shake it off, focus on his work. He hadn’t written all day. He eyed his computer, but with how unsettled he felt right now, he’d probably end up filling the screen with a page of swearwords and exclamation points. Maybe have a zombie kill off a character or two, which would be weird, since it wasn’t a zombie screenplay.
He needed another escape. A distraction to keep his mind busy.
Luckily, he remembered there was an old TV/DVD combo that Dad had left there ages ago. He’d stowed it here so that if the fish weren’t biting or he needed a break from things at work or home, he’d sneak over to the empty house and kick back with a movie.
Sawyer carried the television out of the side closet and placed it on a box in the living room. The screen was tiny—especially when compared to the fifty-five-inch flat screen that he had back in New York. It happened to be the most valuable item he owned, and he wasn’t sure if that was awesome or sad.
Sawyer stuck the plug for the TV into the outlet, hoping it’d work.
Not only did it work, but when he ejected the DVD it was Die Hard. Classic. He vaguely remembered Dad not being able to find it one day. In fact, he’d given up after they’d both spent a good hour looking for it, and sent Sawyer to go buy another copy.
Sawyer pulled out the sleeping bag from the room he was crashing in. Paired with an air mattress, it was actually pretty comfortable. Mom wanted him to go back and sleep at her place every night, and he would from time to time, but something about waking up to see the sun rising over the lake made him ready to work on the house. If he stayed across town, he wouldn’t get up until after nine, then he’d be behind and have very little time to work, shower, and get to the theater for rehearsal.
As the movie started up, Sawyer could picture Dad beside him, a bowl of popcorn and a package of Twizzlers between them. They’d watch the movie in silence, then later, they’d dissect every scene and talk about why it was so awesome. There at the end, when Dad had lost nearly all motor function, they couldn’t even do that. It killed him seeing Dad like that, and to watch Mom take care of him while Sawyer felt the need to escape. So he’d left her to go it on her own way too many times.
“No wonder I avoided coming back as much as possible.” Suddenly, Sawyer didn’t feel like watching a movie. It was pathetic, but he wanted to have someone he could really talk to. Not Mom, because he didn’t want to force her to relive it.
Sawyer glanced behind him, out the window for the second time that night. The lights in Brynn’s place were out.
And it wasn’t like she’d want to talk to him anyway.
Chapter Five
Brynn automatically looked up when the chime on the door rang out.
Mom walked in, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. “There’s my girl. Have you and your brother forgotten where Dad and I live?”
Brynn walked around the counter and hugged her. “Sorry, Mom. It’s been crazy busy this week.” The coupon had worked almost too well. Traffic in the store was up, and she’d been late to rehearsal the past two days because she felt too guilty to leave Paul and Travis, the high school kid who worked a few nights a week, to help all the customers by themselves. Luckily, they’d finally hit the mid-morning lull.
Paul came from the back of the store where he’d been restocking fishing line. “Hey, Ma.”
Mom put a hand on her hip. “I was just asking your sister why we never see you two anymore. Surely you can at least swing by for Sunday dinner.”
Paul looked to Brynn—like she’d be able to get either of them out of it. Mom had come in to give them a guilt trip, and once you were on that trip, she didn’t let up until you gave in. “Yeah, we’ll be there,” he said. “In fact…I might bring a date. If that’s all right.”
Mom’s face lit up. “A date?” Her voice was in the dogs-only octave now. “Oh, Paul, that’d be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“It’s still early in the relationship, so keep it low-key, okay?”
The smile on Mom’s face grew even bigger. Then she turned to Brynn. “What about you?” She brushed her fingers across the vintage floral comb Brynn had pulled her hair back with this morning. “One of the ladies in my knitting club has a son who just moved into town, and he sounds like a nice guy. I think he went out with Kayla Norman last weekend, but you’re much cuter than she is.”
“Competitive dating?” Brynn said. “No thanks, Mom.”
Mom sighed. “Sometimes I worry I’ll never have grandchildren. Guess that’s what I get for taking so long to have you two.”
Instead of engaging in that bomb of a statement, Brynn changed the subject. “Where’s Dad?”
“Out fishing. Where else?” Mom frowned at the mounted TV. “Still playing the same boring shows, I see.” She set her purse down on the counter and wandered farther into the store, probably to inspect everything, the way she did whenever she came in. It was like she didn’t want to work here but didn’t want to let go, either.
Brynn glanced at Paul. “You know she’s going to make a huge deal about you bringing a date, right?”
He leaned against the counter. “I know.”
“And who is this girl? Why haven’t I met her?”
Before he could answer, Mom came back up front. “Think I’ll stick around here for a bit. Could you use my help?”
“Actually, we could,” Brynn said. “Especially around closing. I can’t be late to rehearsal again.”
“Oh, by then I’ll need to be home to cook dinner.”
Great. So in other words, she was only going to be here when it was slow, which would give her time to interrogate Brynn about her lack of a dating life.
Mom scooted closer, and Brynn automatically braced herself. “I know you have some issue against being set up, hon, but there are lots of couples who never would’ve met if they hadn’t gone on blind dates. It’s how it’s done now. And Judith’s son sounds perfect for y—”
“There’s a customer. I better go see if he needs help.” Brynn had never been so happy to see a guy in a canvas fishing vest in her life. Except when she asked if he needed anything, he grunted a response about “just looking” and moved farther into the store.
“Well, if you have any questions…” Brynn decided to stay up front for a few minutes and restack the tackle boxes, even though they didn’t need it. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with questions about her dating life right now. This week she’d been trying to avoid Sawyer while putting herself out there at the local spots in town, and all she’d learned was that she was excruciatingly bad at flirting and that the datable men were apparently not hanging out in the places she was.
“Brynn, hon?” Mom called from next to the register. “Did you mean to organize the lures like this? It seems like the chug bugs should be closer to the top.”
Lord, give me strength. Brynn didn’t know why Mom wouldn’t go fishing with Dad. He asked every time—he always got this hopeful look in his eye, too—but she rarely went out with him anymore. Brynn certainly didn’t love fishing like Paul and Dad did, but she liked to go now and then. And sure, sometimes when she’d been trapped on the boat for hours, she would look out at the lake and have this urge to make a swim for the shore, as if she were breaking out of pris
on. But she liked to think she’d sacrifice for the guy she loved. If she ever found him, that is.
Hopefully he’d be as understanding when it came to sitting through her plays or letting her go on and on about literature and how they just didn’t make love stories like they used to.
“I’m going to go ahead and move them for you so people can actually find what they’re looking for,” Mom said.
I think I need to beg Dad to drag her onto the lake next time. Mom had always sighed a bit about the fishing, but she’d also gone out once in a while to be with Dad. Brynn couldn’t remember the last time her dad’s fishing adventure stories—signature fisherman exaggerations added in, of course—had included Mom. Come to think of it, Mom seemed to avoid any talk of fishing or Dad lately. In fact, whenever Brynn brought up either subject, Mom sidetracked the conversation. What’s up with that?
“Brynn, honey?” Mom waved her closer. “Why don’t you come over here so I can show you how to better organize these? That way I don’t have to keep doing it for you.” Brynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a long day.
“Crapcrapcrap.” Brynn took the corner way faster than she should’ve, causing the tires of her car to screech. She parked, shot out of the front seat, and headed to the back door. It was locked, of course. She knocked, waited a couple seconds, and then sprinted toward the front. While she hadn’t spoken directly to Sawyer since the door incident, she’d heard the snide comment he made yesterday about her being late again.
She rushed into the auditorium and down the steps. By the time she got up front she was breathless. Everyone else was already onstage and Leo and Tony were running their scene as Algy and Jack.
“Nice of you to join us, Cecily,” Sawyer said with a huff. “This is the third day in a row.”
Brynn let out a breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—”
“Now that Cecily’s here, we can pick up right before the engagement scene. Yesterday it was awful.”
Act Like You Love Me (An Accidentally in Love Novel) (Entangled: Bliss) Page 5
