Deuce of Hearts

by Lyssa Layne

  CHAPTER 11

  Sawyer

  I twist my hands nervously in the front seat of the Beast as Garrison drives along back roads I’ve never been on. The air conditioner is on full blast but I still feel the prickles on my skin as sweat beads on my forehead. I rub my palms over my denim shorts but there’s not nearly enough material to get them good and dry. Leaning forward, I twist the vent to blow cold air directly on my face in an effort to cool down.

  “Relax, Sawyer. Think of this as a trial run,” Garrison says, glancing over at me.

  My arms held out to my side like a chicken with two broken wings, I know I look oh so ladylike but I don’t care. Granted, the odds of Dante Werner being my father are slim to none but I’m still nervous. My mind is flying in a thousand different directions and I don’t even know which thought to follow.

  “What am I supposed to say? Hey, are you my dad? Did you sleep with my mom?” Sweat rolls down my neck and I open the glove compartment, looking for a napkin to try to dry off with.

  “I wouldn’t recommend either of those questions. Maybe just ask him if he ever met your mom and go from there.”

  “Right,” I agree, shaking my head vigorously and beginning to feel lightheaded. My breathing gets faster and I quickly bend over, putting my head between my legs. Suddenly, the car stops but I’m too afraid to look up. Instead, I feel Garrison’s hand on my back which doesn’t help any of the crazy things my body is doing to me.

  “Look, Sawyer, if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to but look at yourself. If you’re this worked up over someone we know isn’t your dad, what are you going to be when we visit the other two?”

  “Shut up,” I mumble, my head still down low and I’m staring at the floorboard. Quickly, I sit up and look over at Garrison which is a horrible idea as all the blood rushes from my head.

  He reaches over, taking my face in both his hands. “I’m going to be right there with you so you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  His eyes stare into mine and I search his, trying to distract myself from the idea of my father, but I find myself getting lost in his gentle eyes. Wondering about his past relationships, what kind of boyfriend he might be, can he find a woman’s g-spot, exactly how kissable those lips of his are…

  “You ready?” he asks, pretending to not notice my intense stare at his plump lips.

  Turning my head, he’s forced to drop his hands and I see that we’re sitting in the driveway to a small house in the middle of nowhere. The house is rickety looking with white siding that’s covered in mildew and dirt. Behind the house is a barn that it is more than twice the size of the family dwelling. I squint my eyes, reading the writing on the mailbox, D. erne. Guess time has worn more things off at this residence than meets the eye.

  “Fine,” I mumble, opening the door and wanting to vomit the second I do. A strong gust of wind blows the stench of animal feces directly into my face and I reach for the door, trying to close it in hopes of blocking out the smell.

  Garrison laughs as he opens his door, letting the funk right back inside. “Dante Werner is a pig farmer.”

  I close my eyes, forcing back tears and wishing I would’ve just let my mother take the secret of who my sperm donor was with her to the grave. No, instead I had to pull a typical Sawyer move and push my nose, literally, where it doesn’t belong. My door swings open and the smell washes over me even stronger. Opening my eyes, I see Garrison’s handsome smile which helps to distract from the pig pooh permeating through the air.

  Holding out his hand, he nods behind him. “Let’s do this.”

  I stare down at his hand then look up into his eyes as I nod and take his hand. Garrison waits for me to hop out of the Beast then closes the door. I squeeze his hand as we bypass the small house and walk straight into the awful odor. Garrison looks over his shoulder at me and gives a small smile. My stomach gets weak, not from the small, but because I have this man beside me as I walk into the craziest journey of my life. I never thought three men in a small town like Memphis, Missouri, would be more intimidating that the streets of New York on my own.

  Garrison

  Sawyer’s hand fits perfectly in mine, like a puzzle. If we were a puzzle, I’d want to be the corner piece while Sawyer would be the inside one so I could surround her and protect her from all sides. It’s why I’m walking us toward the shittiest smelling place I’ve ever been around. I’m not about to set her on this pilgrimage to find her father alone. One, I don’t like the idea of her being around men she doesn’t like and two, I want to see her in a complete state of euphoria when she finally meets her father. I just met her, so it’s ironic that I’m protecting her from men she doesn’t know, men like me, but even more ironic that more than anything, I want to experience pure happiness with her. I don’t know Sawyer Kingham any better than her father, whoever he may be, but I already know there’s no one in the world I want to see happier than her.

  A blotch of denim moves inside one of the fences along with five huge hogs. I think to myself how much each one of them weighs and I find myself suddenly craving bacon. I study the denim wearer, Dante Werner. He’s definitely the right age to be Sawyer’s father but he doesn’t have the same build. He’s a short, stocky man while Sawyer is tall and thin, a perfect dancer’s body. It’s hard to tell what color the little hair he has under his ball cap is so there’s no way to compare to Sawyer’s dark locks. As I’m walking toward the pigsty, I stop abruptly when Sawyer stops moving and jerks my hand back toward her.

  “I can’t,” she whispers. “I can’t do this—”

  “Hey there, something I can help ‘ya with?” Dante asks, pushing his ball cap to the top of his forehead as he looks in our direction.

  I look at Sawyer, waiting for some kind of inclination that we’re going to move forward with our plan, but all I get is a death grip on my hand and a blank stare across her face. Sighing, I turn toward the man and nod.

  “Yeah, we think you might’ve known my…” I glance back at Sawyer, flustered that I put myself in a situation to title us. Looking back at the man, I shake my head. “My friend’s mom who recently passed away.”

  He cocks his eyebrow as he walks toward us. “Who’s that?”

  “Lana Kingham,” Sawyer says, finally speaking but not loosening her grip on my hand.

  To be entirely honest, I don’t want her to let go. I want her to share all her nervous energy with me, I want to protect her from what might be bad, I want to show her all the good. I want to be Sawyer’s rock which is what I intend to do the entire time I’m with her.

  A grin spreads across Dante’s face and my stomach sinks. Shit, I swore to Sawyer that there was no way in hell that Dante was her father but his face is making me second guess. I look back to see Sawyer’s expression but it’s still blank as we both wait for his answer.

  “‘Ole Lana, she was a piece of work.” Dante looks at Sawyer and his smile disappears. “I’m sorry for your loss, hun. I heard about the tragic accident.”

  Sawyer steps around me, letting go of my hand and I already hate that I’ve lost her touch.

  “How did you know her?” Sawyer asks, not acknowledging his sentiment.

  “I met her at the VFW one Christmas. I was hanging there with some Army buddies of mine when she came in with her father.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” Sawyer demands, taking a step closer to him.

  Dante’s face goes white with shock and I roll my eyes at Sawyer’s forwardness.

  I move beside her, waving my hands as though I’m erasing Sawyer’s question. “Sorry. Sawyer was trying to ask if you dated her mother.”

  Dante chuckles as he shakes his head. “I wish! A woman as gorgeous as Lana, I’d have be in heaven. Back then, I was a scrawny kid who’d joined the Army in an effort to get out of this town.” He waves his hand around him. “Obviously, that didn’t happen. Anyway, I remember Lana because no girl ever gave me any attention but a couple days after Christmas, I was at the VFW and she to
ok the time to walk to every table and tell each military person in there ‘thank you for your service.’ It didn’t take too much of her time but it meant the world to me.”

  I glance over at Sawyer, whose shoulders have dropped.

  She starts to speak in a voice that’s a mix of giggles and tears. “She meant the world to me.”

  I take Sawyer’s hand and squeeze it gently. Looking back at Dante, I nod. “Thank you for your time… and service.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Garrison

  I stare at the ceiling in Cuzzo’s living room. It’s nearly three in the morning but I haven’t slept a wink. After Dante’s, Sawyer wanted to go back to her mother’s. She didn’t want to talk about the meeting with Dante, she didn’t want to hold my hand, she just wanted to stare out the window, and disappear into her childhood home. There were no plans made of where we’d go next or when we’d see each other again. No, she opened the door to the Beast and walked into that house like some kind of zombie. I sat in the driveway for a good couple of hours, watching the house, listening for her loud music, and hopefully waiting on a text but I got nothing. No movement, no noise, no texts so I headed back to Cuzzo’s where I retreated into his place like a zombie of my own.

  I spent the rest of the night memorizing the files on Samuel Ellington and Dean Sawyer, searching for any clues to which one is her father. After watching her disappointment today, from someone we were almost one hundred percent sure wasn’t her father, I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough to experience it if neither of these two guys are her biological dad. After hours of reading about both of these men, searching the Internet for them, and weeding through social media accounts that could potentially be theirs, I still couldn’t guess which man it could be. The obvious choice would be Dean Sawyer and her mother named her after him but it could also mean nothing.

  Yawning, I pick up the file, ready to peruse it once again, searching for something I overlooked. I skim over the papers, my eyelids getting heavy, and when I look at the clock again, I’m flutter my eyes open after a cat nap and it’s nearly 6AM. I shake my head, trying to wake myself up but deciding a shower is probably the best idea. Anxious to get back to Sawyer, I take the world’s fastest shower then head over to Sawyer’s, stopping at Casey’s gas station to get us each a cup of coffee. When I park in front of her house less than an hour later, I already feel better when I hear the music flowing outside. Sawyer’s getting her groove back…

  Sawyer

  My hair is tied up tightly in a bun to at least keep that hot mess out of my way but sweat still stings my eyes as it rolls off my forehead. I chug a bottle of water, trying to rehydrate after my all night cryfest. Damn Garrison for taking me to Dante and damn Dante for reiterating how amazing my mother was. I want to find my father so I can let out my anger on him, shout at him for leaving us, not to find men who thought my mother was wonderful. I already know that and it breaks my heart even more that I wasn’t the only one who knew that.

  Tears prick at my eyes but I can’t, I won’t, let myself cry anymore. I wipe my hands on my black capri leggings and stand up, changing the song on my iPod. An upbeat tune fills the air and I nod, knowing I can work with it to dance out my emotions. The music gets faster and so does my body, twisting and turning, leaping and spinning however the rhythm takes me. This isn’t a choreographed dance, it’s freestyle and it’s doing just that, allowing me to be free. Free of my thoughts, free of my emotions, free of—

  “Dammit!” My heart races as I spin directly into Garrison’s chest. “Why do you keep sneaking in on me like this?” I shout over the music, quickly moving away from him and turning it off. Even before I turn back around, I can feel Garrison’s gaze on my body and I wish I was wearing something more than this peach colored sports bra.

  “Haven’t you learned you shouldn’t play your music so loudly that you can’t hear someone knock on the door?” Garrison asks, crossing his arms. “Or better yet, lock your fuckin’ door, woman!”

  I scowl at him as I shake my head. “You know, you’re really bossy.” I stomp toward the kitchen, looking for some kind of escape or distraction.

  Garrison clears his throat and I turn around to see him holding up an extra cup of coffee in hand. “Thought you might need this if you sleep as well as I did.”

  Studying the cup, I sigh and let go of my anger at Garrison. I’m still frustrated about yesterday but none of it is his fault. Closing the gap between us, I reach out and take the cup, smiling softly. “Thanks,” I whisper and take a sip.

  “You’re beautiful when you dance,” Garrison says softly, his cheeks instantly turning red. No sooner are the words out of his mouth that he starts stammering. “I mean you’re always beautiful but when you dance, it’s graceful and elegant and—”

  “Thank you,” I interrupt him, putting my fingers to his lips. A rush of intimacy runs through me and I’m torn whether I enjoy it or am I completely freaked out. So, like the idiot that I am, I stand there, with my finger on his mouth until I realize how incredibly awkward this is… except Garrison doesn’t seem to mind. I’ve seen him in uncomfortable situations before and normally, he’d be running his mouth or jumping to get away but instead, his shoulders relax and he tilts his head into my touch. Now that I’m aware of the possibility of this being awkward, I don’t know what to do next, but luckily, like always, Garrison does.

  “Maybe you could show me some more?”

  Gratefully, I drop my finger and nod until it’s too late to realize what that means. Me, dancing in front of Garrison, this time knowing that his eyes are on me… this is more intimidating than dancing on Broadway.

  Garrison

  Sawyer giggles nervously and I know what that means, her stress level is on high alert. I just don’t know if she’s fretting about the whole father situation or because I just asked her to dance for me. I knew before the question came out of my mouth that it was a bad idea because I know exactly how my body will react to watching her twist and turn the way she does. It’ll be in awe of the way she can gracefully move her body and in desire of wanting that body to move with mine in the bedroom.

  I should retract my question but it was the only way I knew to get Sawyer out of the situation she put us in when she touched my lips. Our eyes locked and our souls talked more than either of us could ever say verbally. I tried to tell her she was beautiful but it came out wrong, like some kind of backhanded compliment. She was trying to save me from making an ass of myself and I was simply trying to repay the favor when her fingers lingered a little too long, letting us both enjoy it more than we should.

  Sawyer’s giggling stops and I see a devilish look in her eyes. “I’ll show you but I need a partner.”

  My stomach drops and my head is already shaking before I start talking. “If you’re implying me then you should think again. I’ve got two left feet and—”

  Sawyer grabs my hand, interrupting me as she marches us over to her phone where she turns on her music. A slow song comes on and I want to punch myself for even suggesting this. I don’t dance, period.

  Sawyer turns to me, taking my hand and wrapping it around hers. “This is a foxtrot. Listen to the music, there are four beats to one bar of music. Hear it?”

  I listen carefully but I don’t hear anything other than my own heart racing. Sawyer cocks her head to the side, obviously listening much harder than I am. Thinking back to the cockpit of my jet, I try to calm down, reminding myself how to slow my heart rate and focus on the task at hand… finding those damn four beats of music but it’s no use. All I can concentrate on is Sawyer’s gorgeous eyes and the contentment of her hand in mine.

  “You’re going to start with your left foot and take two walking steps slowly. Then move to your left side together so it’s slow, slow, quick, quick. I’ll lead until you get the hang of it, okay?”

  I nod, trying to swallow but my mouth is so fuckin’ dry by the mere thought of having to coordinate my feet from my brain when I’m this clos
e to Sawyer. Sawyer places my hand on her hip then puts her hand on my bicep. I squeeze her hip, not caring what she thinks of my affection. She takes the first step and whispers the directions for me.

  “Slow, slow, quick, quick. Slow, slow, quick, quick.”

  Closing my eyes, I focus on her words, blocking out the music and we seem to find the rhythm together. Her words are more melodious to me than the actual music and she makes it easy to follow her. After a few seconds, I open my eyes and look into hers.

  Sawyer grins proudly at me. “You’re doing it!”

  “Because of you,” I credit her.

  “Like yesterday was because of you.”

  I hesitate at her words but she keeps our bodies moving to the music. “Are you upset I took you to see Dante?” My words are strained as I feel awful about what happened.

  Not taking her eyes off mine, she shakes her head. “Not at all. I… I just didn’t expect this to be so emotional.”

  I narrow my eyes, confused. “How so? We’re trying to find your father, a man you’ve never met before. You didn’t expect it to be emotional?”

  She giggles softly. “Well, yes, of course but I knew Dante wasn’t my father and it was still emotional to hear the impact my mother had on him, even if they only met for a short moment in time. I… I didn’t know that others thought of my mother the same way I did.”

  “If she’s anything like you, Sawyer, she was probably loved by everyone she met.”

  Now, it’s Sawyer that pauses but I keep us in rhythm.

  “Loved?” she whispers.

  Gulping at my choice of words, just like earlier, I shrug and nod. “Yeah, you know what I mean…”

  Sawyer stares at me, stopping completely and forcing me to do the same. Her hands slide up my arms and run over the stumble on my cheek. She looks deep into my eyes and I know she wants this kiss as much as I do but it won’t happen, not on my watch. I’m here to help her in the hunt for her father, not to kiss her and make her have feelings… or shit, make me have feelings either. I take a step back, mumbling something about needing to get back to Cuzzo’s. In what seems like faster than my jet, I dart out the front door and sprint from Sawyer’s to Cuzzo’s, wondering how the hell I let things get so out of control.