Seducing Sawyer (Wishing Well, Texas Book 7)

by Melanie Shawn

  Seducing Sawyer

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  ‡

  Melanie Shawn © 2017

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

  Cover Design by Wildcat Dezigns

  Copyedit by Deanna McDonald

  Proofreading Services by Raiza McDuffie

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Rev. 1.0

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Excerpt from Whisper Lake Romance

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Sawyer

  “Life is easier when you plow around the stump.”

  ~ Grant Turner

  “You’re hangin’ to the left. I’m gonna need ya to shift your business.”

  I looked down at the steel blue eyes staring up at me from behind thick bifocals.

  “Your junk,” Edith pointed at my groin area. “Move it.”

  I cupped my “junk” and did as she asked. She ran the measuring tape up my inner left leg the same way she’d just done on my right and spoke beneath her breath, “Thirty-six.”

  She pulled the pencil that she’d stuck behind her ear and jotted the number down before barking more orders at me. First, she instructed me to stand up straight, lift my right arm, then my left, then both as she stepped up on her stool, sliding the plastic strip of numbers along my body, mumbling numbers, and then writing them down.

  I did as she asked, feeling like a puppet as I suppressed my frustration. I hated this. Every second of it.

  Not because I’d had to adjust myself at the request of a seventy-year-old woman that I’d known my entire life, although that wasn’t exactly a high point. Still, it wasn’t the reason that I was crawling out of my skin. The reason I could barely stand still was because of what this fitting represented.

  Love. Commitment. Marriage.

  Three things that I knew weren’t in the cards for me. I’d played my hand three times and lost big. The dealer of life had stacked the deck against me. There was no way I’d ever ante up again, no matter how much I wished I could.

  “I can’t remember ever seeing you in a tux.” My baby sister, Harmony, lifted her head from the iPad that she’d been engrossed in for the last ten minutes. “Have you ever worn one?”

  “No.” And I would’ve gladly lived out the rest of my life without putting on a penguin suit.

  “Well, now you can thank me for having one,” Harmony chirped, knowing full well that was never going to happen. As she watched Edith take my measurements her face scrunched up like she’d just bit into a lemon. “I still can’t believe Trace and JJ let you get away with wearing a suit.”

  My brothers couldn’t have cared less if I’d shown up in a garbage bag to their weddings. The only person they cared about was the woman they were marrying. Which was exactly how it should be.

  Harmony lifted her phone and snapped a picture.

  I glared.

  She just smiled. “Mom wanted me to send pictures as proof that you were here.”

  Of course she did.

  Lowering her phone, she typed, and it buzzed almost immediately.

  After reading the message on her screen, Harmony’s green eyes lifted to mine, and they were simmering with pot stirring. As the youngest of nine siblings and the only girl, Harmony had always nosed her way into business that had nothing to do with her. “Mom wants to know if we should put you down for a plus one.”

  My only answer was a stare that indicated she already knew the answer and that this was not a subject that I wanted to discuss.

  “Pfft,” Edith made an indistinguishable sound. “If that happens I’ll check my pigs for wings.”

  Harmony ignored Edith’s sarcasm and my silent warning as she scooted forward on the couch she’d been lounging back on. Her face was eager as she set her phone on her lap and placed her hands together in a prayer gesture. “Sawyer, let me set you up.”

  I’ll never forget the day that Harmony was born. As the oldest of the nine Briggs siblings, I’d taken the trip to the nursery seven times before her birth and each time I’d seen my dad holding a baby with a blue beanie on its head, until Harmony. I’d been shocked to see a pink one.

  From the day that Wyatt was born when I was only three years old, I’d helped out with my brothers. Each time my mom had another baby, my responsibilities would increase. I changed diapers, babysat, and helped with homework without complaint, but not because it was my first choice. I’d have much rather been out riding my bike, playing video games or galloping on the back of a horse.

  But, Harmony was different. That girl had the entire family wrapped around her tiny finger since day one. When she was a baby, I’d walked the halls with her at night all on my own accord, not because my parents asked. I’d had this urge to protect and take care of her, unlike anything I’d ever felt for Wyatt, Jackson, Beau, JJ, Cooper, Trace or Travis.

  Even as she got older that impulse never diminished. When she’d wanted to ride a bike without her training wheels, I’d taken them off for her and then ran along beside her, just in case. When she’d crashed into the tree, I’d been the one who’d poured on the hydrogen peroxide and bandaged her knee. When she’d wanted to learn to drive at fourteen, I’d taken her down to the river and patiently coached her on the finer points of a stick shift through gritted teeth as she murdered my transmission. Today, I was at a fitting for a tux for her. Hell, if she asked me to bury a body, I’d grab my shovel and not ask any questions.

  I would do anything for my baby sister…with one exception.

  “Please. I have a list of girls that would be perfect for you,” she pleaded.

  At my sister’s description, an image popped into my head. Silky blonde hair. Large brown eyes. Full pouty lips. And sensual curves that would turn any saint into a sinner. Curves that I wanted to sink my fingers into, curves that I wanted pressed against my body, curves that I
wanted to explore every inch of.

  I tried my best to ignore the picture of the one girl that tempted me the way no others had since I’d sworn off relationships. The one girl that was a constant reminder that my heart wasn’t as off-limits as I wished it was. The one girl that filled my thoughts, my dreams, and my fantasies day and night. But like most of my attempts, I failed.

  “No.” My tone was harsh and firm, and I was sure my expression mirrored that sentiment.

  During grades six to eight, I’d grown a foot taller. When I’d started middle school, I’d been five foot four. The summer before ninth grade I’d measured in at six foot four and by the time I graduated I was six six. And I’d never gone through that bean pole, gawky stage. Working on my parents’ farm in the mornings before school and the evenings when I got home had made me country strong. I’d always had mass and muscle. For as long as I could remember when I walked through a crowd, people parted like the Red Sea, and I never had to say much to get my point across.

  If I wanted someone to shut up, leave, or get out of my way, one look was all it took.

  Being on the receiving end of my current expression would’ve caused most people to back off. But this wasn’t most people, this was Harmony. She didn’t back off. She didn’t let go. She didn’t drop things. When she got her mind set on something she was worse than a dog with a bone, she was a rabid dog with a juicy, filet mignon. There was no gettin’ that sucker away from her.

  “Please,” she persisted undeterred as she lifted her hands in a pleading gesture. “It would make me so happy if you had a date for my wedding.”

  That made two of us, but that wasn’t going to happen. A date to a wedding, even if it was a setup, signified a hell of a lot more than a casual fling and that was all I could offer anyone.

  “No,” I repeated.

  The gleam in my sister’s eye told me that this subject was far from over. She was determined, and a determined Harmony Briggs was a force to be reckoned with.

  Edith tilted her head down, her eyes peeking over her glasses in my sister’s direction as she used my arm for leverage and stepped down from the wooden footstool that she’d been perched on. “You said the wedding’s in four weeks?”

  “Twenty-four days,” Harmony amended.

  “It’s gonna be tight.” Steel blue eyes turned back to me as a wrinkled finger stabbed into my chest. “I’ll need you back at least two more times. No lip. No excuses. You get here when I tell ya’ to. You hear me?”

  I dipped my chin in a nod. Edith’s borderline reprimand was deserved. I’d been dodging this appointment for almost two months. It wasn’t like me. I hated procrastination. If there was an issue, I hit the damn thing head on. But not this fitting. I’d been avoiding it like the plague.

  At least I had been until Harmony had texted me that she was outside my house and I had five minutes to “get my stubborn ass out here.” On the way downtown to Edith’s shop, Harmony had read me the riot act for putting off the appointment for so long. Out of all my brothers, I was the only one that had to get a tux specially made. All my life I’d had to buy clothes from specialty shops. Thanks to the internet though, I could now do all my shopping online instead of having to drive to Dallas anytime I needed jeans, shorts, or shirts like I’d had to when I was a kid.

  My sister gathered her things, and I stepped down from the pedestal that Edith had insisted I stand on, even though it put me a few more inches out of reach for her.

  “We gonna see ya’ tonight, Miss Edith?” Harmony asked as we moved to the door.

  Tonight was the annual civic fundraiser. It raised money for the schools, fire department, repairs on roads. Businesses and residents in town donated services and products for the silent auction. Since I’d started Briggs Construction twelve years ago, my donation had always been the same—my labor and time for a weekend project and materials at cost. It had always brought in well over a thousand dollars, so I honestly didn’t understand why Mrs. Higgins, my office manager, had insisted I change things up this year and add a “new twist” to my charitable contribution.

  Edith removed her glasses. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ve got my eye on that free donut a day for a year.”

  “Is that what Destiny went with?” Harmony beamed as she mentioned her best friend and our sister-in-law who owned The Sweet Spot. “I knew that she was considering that or a free cake a month.”

  “Well, she made the right choice.” Edith wagged her finger at both of us. “Now don’t get any ideas and go outbidding me.”

  Harmony shook her head. “I have a wedding dress to fit into in twenty-four days. Not a chance.”

  Edith’s attention shifted to me. “And what was this I heard that you were puttin’ up an apprenticeship for the auction tonight?”

  “It’s not a real apprenticeship. It’s just for the project. A glorified weekend assistant.” I still wasn’t sold on the idea that someone would actually bid more to follow me around for two days and ask me questions than they would for me to just complete the project like I’d always done. But, Mrs. Higgins was convinced that it would bring in a much higher bid, and when she set her mind to something, it was impossible for me to say no to her.

  Dorothy Higgins had been my English teacher freshman and sophomore year in high school, and she’d changed my life. I’d never done well in school and had been thinking about dropping out and working for my dad full time on our family farm. Not because I’d wanted to work there. I’d considered it because school was such a struggle for me. The only way I’d ever gotten passing grades was by copying other people’s work.

  One week into freshman year, Mrs. Higgins caught me cheating and asked me to stay after sixth period. I assumed that I was getting detention, but instead, she had me read out loud a passage out of Othello and write a paragraph explaining it. Then she said I was free to go. That night she called my house and told my parents that she believed I suffered from dyslexia. After an evaluation, it turned out she was right.

  Mrs. Higgins had planned to retire my ninth grade year, but she pushed it back and tutored me all four years. High school wasn’t exactly easy, even after my diagnosis, but I was able to graduate with Mrs. Higgins help, and I even went to college.

  Then, in a sad twist of fate, Mrs. Higgins husband passed away just one month after I started Briggs Construction. She came out of retirement to help me with my business and worked for free since I couldn’t afford to pay her. She said she needed the distraction and I needed the help, it was a win-win. Now I had twelve employees, but that’s not what I considered her. She was family. If she wanted me to change things up this year, so be it.

  “Wait, what?” Harmony placed her hand on my forearm. “What are you donating?”

  Edith filled my sister in. “He’s putting up a personal apprenticeship.”

  I didn’t like the way she’d emphasized the word personal.

  Harmony’s eyes widened as Edith chuckled and continued explaining, “Dorothy made sure to put in that your brother would answer any and all questions that the apprentice had.”

  My sister’s brow creased as she searched for clarification. “So, you’re going to have someone following you around and—”

  “And, they get to ask him anything they want, and he has to answer them.”

  Harmony let out a burst of laughter. “Oh, that’s going to be hilarious.”

  I wasn’t sure what she found so funny.

  When Dorothy had first outlined the new twist, I’d found the wording odd, but she’d assured me that it would get attention and a pretty penny. I thought she was overestimating people’s interest in what I had to say, but considering I’d had at least a dozen people have the same reaction as Harmony and Edith, I was beginning to see I’d been wrong.

  I’d never understood people’s obsession with the fact that I didn’t say every thought that was in my head. Did it really matter what I thought about things? No. What mattered was action. That’s all. People could say anything. It’s what th
ey did that counted.

  I was no genius or poet. I wasn’t going to cure cancer or inspire a generation to be the best version of themselves. I was a guy that built things. A guy that loved his family. And a guy that minded his own business.

  That’s it.

  As much as Edith and Harmony seemed to be enjoying themselves, I was done. I’d fulfilled my brotherly duty and it was half past time to get the hell out of here.

  I thanked Edith and slid my sunglasses on as I opened the door. Harmony followed my lead.

  “See ya’ tonight.” My sister lifted her hand in a small wave as we exited the shop.

  The Texas heat hit me like a slap in the face the second we stepped onto the brick sidewalk that lined the town square. Most people avoided the outdoors when the temperatures topped the hundred degree mark, but not me. I loved it. Days like this made me want to hit a hammer into a two-by-four. Build something. Fix something.

  “Ugh.” Harmony fanned her hand in front of her face. “How is it this hot already? I’m melting like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  I glanced down at her and saw that her face did not, in fact, resemble a wax sculpture that had been set in front of a furnace. My sister had always had a flare for the dramatic.

  “Come on, princess.” I offered her my arm as we headed down the block towards my truck and air conditioning.

  She wrapped her hand around it, and the realization struck me that in twenty-four days she’d be taking my father’s arm as she walked towards her soon-to-be husband. Until this moment, I might have been in a little bit of denial that my baby sister was going to be a married woman.

  Over the past year, four of my eight siblings had settled down. JJ had gotten married and had a baby girl already. Trace was also married and expecting his first. Travis had gotten engaged to a woman he’d known less than a month. And the baby of the family was tying the knot in less than a month.

  It seemed like the Briggs siblings were dropping like flies. Not from being swatted or sprayed with bug spray. They were flying towards the light of their own accord and getting zapped when they touched it. I couldn’t help but feel like we were being picked off one by one. I needed to keep my guard up. Especially around a certain brown-eyed, thick-thighed girl that somehow managed to sneak past my defenses.