He sighed and rolled so that his back was against the box, and she worried she’d said the wrong thing. She was asking too many questions. Acting too needy. Paul was right; she always screwed it up by talking too much.
“My dad had ALS,” Sawyer said, running his palms down the legs of his jeans. “Most people know of it as Lou Gehrig’s disease.”
From the had, she knew that he must’ve passed on. “I’ve heard of that, but I don’t know what it means.”
“It means his muscles started atrophying, and gradually they got worse and worse until he could hardly move.” Sawyer turned his head toward her, casting half of it in shadows. “He was a carpenter and started having trouble at work—that was my sophomore year. After a while, it got to where he couldn’t work anymore, then he could hardly even move. So he and I would watch movies together. Afterward, we’d sit and talk about them, argue about why they were good or bad, what worked and what didn’t, and all the plot holes.” He pointed his chin at the TV. “Die Hard was his favorite.”
Brynn ran her fingers across her forehead. “Now I feel like a jerk for making fun of it.”
Sawyer put his hand on her knee. “Don’t. That’s what we used to do after every movie. So one day I decided to write a screenplay, working in the things we liked and avoiding all the movie clichés that bothered us. I read it to him shortly before he died, and he told me it was good, even though it wasn’t.” He smiled, but there was so much sorrow behind it, and Brynn’s heart ached for him. “So that’s how I got into the movie biz. I decided I wouldn’t stop until I wrote something that made it.”
“And you did.”
“Getting there, anyway.” Sawyer glanced away and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get into all that.”
Brynn put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes and let out an exhale. They sat like that for a moment, and then she noticed the time. She had to be up before the sun tomorrow. On top of that, Mondays were always hell days, filled with retired fishermen who were happy to get the lake back after the “too-busy weekend.”
“I better go,” she whispered. Then she pushed herself to her feet. Sawyer stood, too, and walked with her across the living room.
When she turned to tell him good-bye, he grabbed her hand. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Oh, you don’t need to.”
“I know.” His grip on her hand tightened. “But I’m going to.”
Would it be cheesy to say the stars and moon were shining exceptionally brightly tonight? Or that the air, filled with the crisp smell that only living by the water brought, smelled extra delicious? Probably, so Brynn wouldn’t say them aloud. Just hold them in until she could write them all down in her journal, so she’d never forget that for one night, at least, she’d felt the magic and butterflies, and everything she’d always dreamed of.
She unlocked her door, which swung open easily now, and turned to face Sawyer. Back in high school, she’d imagined he had some tragic past and kept his most intense thoughts buried under the surface, waiting to come out only for her. Maybe she hadn’t been that far off.
Sawyer leaned down and kissed her, lingering long enough that her body heated and her breaths came faster and faster. “Good night, Brynn.”
She managed a shaky good night in return. She moved to go inside, then whipped around. “Oh, I almost forgot. Regarding rehearsals. It’s probably best if we act like nothing’s going on between us. Not that I’m saying there’s anything going on—”
“There’s definitely something going on,” he said with a smile that made heat pool low in her stomach.
Brynn licked her suddenly dry lips. The point was to make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea, but now images were floating through her head that she needed to push away before she got herself into trouble. She’d definitely underestimated his effect on her. “I think it’s best if we pretend nothing’s changed.”
“Okay. So you’ll continue shooting me death glares, and I’ll act like I’m not checking you out even though you’re shooting me death glares. Got it.”
“I do not…do that.”
He nodded. “You do. More at first, but they still come out from time to time. What’s that about, anyway?”
It’s about the fact that you broke my heart once and you don’t even remember. “Um, just the way you came in like you were all that.”
“I’m not all that?” he asked in mock shock and hung his head. “That’s so disappointing.”
She couldn’t help smiling. Again, she thought she’d misjudged how serious he was—in novels there was nothing like a hot broody guy, but in real life, she was a sucker for humor. Add both, and…yep, she was definitely in trouble. “Anyway… Like I was saying, it’ll look bad if I start dating the director. I don’t want to be one of those actresses. That’s way too Hollywood for my tastes.”
“But don’t they sleep with the director to get the part? And you already have the part, though I’m not totally opposed to—”
She smacked his arm before he could finish, the tips of her ears growing hot. “Just…let’s keep it on the down low, okay?”
“Whatever you want.” He kissed her cheek and then moved his lips so close to her ear that they brushed it when he spoke. “But all bets are off the second rehearsals are over.”
Then he simply turned around and left her alone, her legs wobbly and her heart pounding like a freight train.
Chapter Nine
The chilly morning air had Brynn gripping her warm mug of tea tightly and wishing for the sun to hurry up and clear the horizon. Dad was of the Early Worm Gets the Fish philosophy. It’d been a long time since she’d been willing to be on the lake at this ungodly hour, but when Dad had asked yesterday if she wanted to go fishing with him, she couldn’t say no.
She spotted the familiar green and white boat. Dad was already there, vest and hat on, fishing pole in hand. He smiled at her as she approached. “Come on, we’re burning daylight, and the fish are out there, just waiting to be caught.”
“I think there’d have to be daylight for us to be burning any of it.” Brynn stepped onto the boat, gripping the railing as it swayed. Dad handed her a fishing pole, already set with a spooner and a worm—she’d put plenty of worms on hooks before, but it was always nice when someone else did it for her.
Brynn perched on the seat up front and held on as Dad motored them away from shore. Water lapped the sides of the boat, rocking it in a way that made her want to close her eyes and fall asleep.
Last night she’d laid awake, residual butterflies in her stomach as she thought over her night with Sawyer. It all seemed like a dream. A delicious dream with kissing that made her want to take up making out with Sawyer as her new profession.
But in the harsh, almost-light of day, reality was setting in. She was lying to him—had been from almost the beginning. No more sugarcoating it. Hell, earlier yesterday, she’d been thinking of him as nothing more than a dating test run.
After that dinner with Carly she’d felt so vulnerable, though, and her feet walked her over to his place as though they had a mind of their own. She’d needed to feel wanted, and Sawyer had certainly done a good job of that.
Then he’d talked movies and opened up about his dad. She’d have to have an iron heart to not fall for him a little bit right then and there. But her emotions were having trouble figuring out the difference between real and fake. There was no denying that things between her and Sawyer were changing. Getting more intimate.
Getting out of control.
Dani had texted a couple nights ago, asking Brynn when she wanted to go out with Connor, the cop who might be the man of her dreams. What she should do was forget about Sawyer, get out her phone this second, and set it up. After lying to him, she didn’t deserve to be with him for real, not the way she suddenly found herself wanting to be. It’d been a long time since the thought of seeing a guy again caused her so much anticipation she thought she might burst from it.
Was it so bad to ride it out a little longer? See what was there, if anything?
What if she went on a date with the other guy and it ruined everything that was starting with Sawyer?
Dad suddenly appeared next to her, making her realize that they’d stopped moving. He cast into the water and sat on the other seat. “It’s been a while since I had company. It’s nice.”
He didn’t usually talk much when they were out on the boat, but Brynn supposed it was nice to have someone there in case he wanted to say something. It was also the perfect segue for what she wanted to talk about…
Only now she was almost scared to ask. Her parents were one of those couples who’d stayed in love for decades, and Brynn needed to believe that kind of love could last forever. She took a sip of her lukewarm tea. “Mom doesn’t come out much anymore, does she?”
Dad turned his reel slowly, never breaking the steady pace he’d perfected over the years. “She’s busy.”
Busy? Doing what? Coming into the shop and telling Brynn everything she was doing wrong, from dating to arranging lures? Apprehension squeezed her chest. “Is everything okay with you guys?”
Dad kept reeling, never taking his eyes off the end of his line. “We’ve both got time to do all the things we always wanted to. The hard part of running the shop was being surrounded by fishing equipment and never getting the chance to use it.”
As she recalled, he’d spent most evenings on the water back then. Now he started his mornings there. How he could fish day in and day out and not tire of it, she had no idea. She did notice he didn’t say that they were okay. But she didn’t know how to ask the right questions, or if there were right questions. So she simply sat, watching the end of her pole. Unlike Dad, she didn’t bother reeling. If a fish wanted the bait, he could do the work.
When the line tugged a couple minutes later, she knew she had something. She set the hook and then reeled it in. It was a tiny trout, barely longer than her hand.
Brynn removed the hook from the fish’s lip. “I think you need to get bigger and a lot smarter, fishie. Next time, maybe you’ll know better than a free breakfast that looks too good to be true.” She tossed him back in and moved over to the tackle box to pull out the Power Bait. The paste apparently tasted like garlic and salmon eggs, but she liked it because it was glittery.
Dad stood, and she figured he was going to cast again, but then he sighed. “Your mom wants to pursue other interests. Says she’s done the fishing thing long enough.”
“There are other interests besides fishing?” Brynn joked.
He laughed. “Apparently. Waste of time, if you ask me.”
She wanted to laugh, but he’d called her acting a waste of time before. Her parents used to think of theater as a cute hobby, one she’d eventually grow out of. They were more supportive now and went to every play; they seemed to finally get that she needed an outlet to keep her happy. Maybe Mom needed one now. “Other interests might not be all bad. She just needs to find something more interesting than my dating life.”
“She worries about you. Paul, too. I thought once you were out of the house, she’d see you were okay, but she almost worries more.” Dad cast again, the plunk in the water loud in the sudden silence. “She tells me I forced that store and the stress on you two. I know it’s a big task.”
“Honestly, I was worried about all the responsibility of running the shop at first, but it’s more fun than I thought it’d be. It’s what Paul and I want to do.”
Dad’s shoulders relaxed. “Well, I’m real proud of you two. It means a lot to me, and I’m sorry if I don’t say it enough.”
Somehow she’d forgotten that the only way to have a heart-to-heart with him was in the boat, hooks in the water. She set down her pole and hugged him, vowing to come out here more. “Thanks, Daddy.”
He squeezed her back, and then reached into the cooler and handed her a juice box, just like he had when she was a little girl. She could see his lunch inside, too, which meant he’d be out here most of the day. Long after he dropped her back at the dock so she could go to work.
Out here all alone for hours, with only the fish for company. It seemed so sad, and for once, she got the feeling it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, either.
Whatever was going on with him and Mom, Brynn prayed it would get fixed soon.
…
Sawyer pushed through the curtains on the stage and glanced around. He swore Brynn was purposely driving him crazy today, catching his eye and shooting him a smile that held a dozen secrets in it. Or maybe he just had a dirty mind.
“Brynn,” he whispered. He heard voices and walked toward them. Brynn’s hair was pulled up and she was in a very ruffled, very pink dress. The zipper in the back was only partway done, the fabric folded back, showing off a lot of skin.
His breathing grew shallow. He wondered if she’d accuse him of creeping around again. Right now, though, he didn’t really care.
Aunt Wendy stepped into view and zipped up the dress, which was a buzz kill on multiple levels.
He went ahead and closed the distance, making his steps loud enough they’d hear him approach.
Brynn spun around to face him, then reached up and patted her bun. “Hey.”
His aunt glanced at him, pins sticking out of her mouth. She stuck a couple into the waist of the dress, cinching it tighter. “Just finalizing the costumes,” she mumbled, the sharp ends bobbing up and down and catching the light. “Luckily this one’s already the right length, because there’s way too much lace and ruffles to try to match.”
Brynn smoothed a hand down the skirt. “Could you imagine wearing these kinds of clothes every day? I used to wish I could, but they’re definitely not very comfortable.”
“Well, before now, I’d never guess they could look so good.”
Brynn’s cheeks colored as she glanced down, and he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of there.
“Did you need something?” Aunt Wendy asked.
“No, just…heard voices.” He didn’t want to leave, so he moved over to a chair and sat down. “I figure I might as well learn everything I can about putting on plays while I’m here.” Actually, he was glad Aunt Wendy had talked him into the play. Especially this play. The Importance of Being Earnest had a ton of great lines—and it didn’t hurt that Brynn had a natural ability to deliver them in a way that was going to have the audience eating out of her hand. That Leo guy could use some work, but maybe Sawyer only felt that way because he didn’t like seeing him fawn over Brynn, acting or not.
But the entire plot was so well done. Two guys lying about being named Earnest to get the women who claimed they would only love someone by that name. The lies get messier and funnier with each scene. But that finale, when Jack’s true identity is discovered and the person he never knew he was happens to satisfy both Gwendolyn and her disapproving mother, was pure genius. Sawyer had spent the past few weeks analyzing how Oscar Wilde had pulled it off so perfectly, and he’d even started reading his other works, studying them to try to make his own writing better.
“The costume part isn’t very exciting,” Aunt Wendy said. “I’m only making alterations.”
Sawyer kept his eyes on Brynn’s. “That’s okay. I’ll just sit here and soak it all in.”
His aunt stood and stepped back, running her gaze up and down Brynn. Sawyer couldn’t help but do the same, even though it was for an entirely different reason. The whole get-up screamed innocence in a way that made him want to be the one who showed her the dark side.
Brynn raised her eyebrows like she could read his mind.
Aunt Wendy gave one sharp nod. “Yes, I think it’ll work. Stay like that for a few more minutes if you don’t mind. I’ve got a slip in the car that goes under the skirt to give it a little more volume, and I want to make sure it works with the dress.”
Perfect. A few minutes alone in the costume room with Brynn.
“Sawyer? There’s a fake tree crammed
in my car, too. Can you come help me bring it in?”
“Suuure.” He reluctantly followed her out. Once she got to the steps of the stage, though, he patted his pockets. “I think I dropped my keys. I’m gonna go grab them before they end up lost in a sea of costumes and props. You go ahead, and I’ll be right behind you.”
It sounded lame, even to him, but if his aunt suspected he was lying, she didn’t say anything. He rushed backstage and charged into the room where Brynn was. Her eyes widened, and he took a couple of large steps to get to her. His mouth collided with hers with more force than he meant to, but she took it in stride, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving her lips with his.
He flinched when a stray pin pricked his finger, but the sensation of Brynn’s lips on his dulled it enough that he didn’t care. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
“Practice did seem torturously long with you sitting there just out of reach.” She smiled and kissed him again, sucking lightly on his bottom lip. “This feels very making-out-in-the-janitor’s-closet-at-school.”
He kissed her neck. “Did you do a lot of that in high school?”
She gave a sputtery laugh. “Oh yeah, that was me.”
“I bet all the guys were after you.” She tensed, and he pulled back to look at her face. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, but she was stepping away.
“What’s up? Why are you being weird now?”
Brynn crossed her arms. “Maybe I’m weird every day. Is something wrong with that?”
Sawyer lowered his eyebrows. He knew he was approaching dangerous territory. In the back of his mind, a voice whispered that this was why he should stay away from actresses. But he wasn’t sure if he could stay away from this actress anymore, not after last night. Not when he knew what it was like to open up to her like he never could with anyone else. To hold her in his arms and kiss her.
“Look, I just want to be honest with you.” She winced as if those words hurt her.
He tensed, waiting for the blow. With every second she didn’t speak, the knot in his stomach got tighter. He barely knew the girl. Surely nothing she said could be that bad.
Act Like You Love Me (An Accidentally in Love Novel) (Entangled: Bliss) Page 10
