I knew that I was being ridiculous, but I just needed to see that Sawyer was okay with my own two eyes. Then, I was going to put the past in the past. That was my new plan.
Chapter 21
Sawyer
“It’s okay not to have all the answers, just don’t guess on the test.”
~ Grant Turner
“Everything’s great here,” Hayden ran down a progress report. “There were a few issues with framing but we corrected them. Concrete was poured on the Simpson building. I just left Talbot Street, the subcontractors are finishing up, and the counters that were back-ordered are coming in tomorrow. It’s all under control. Just take care of your dad, we’ve got everything handled.”
Hayden Reed had only been working for me for about a month, but he’d easily slid into the role of foreman. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done today if it hadn’t been for him. He stepped in and was overseeing all three jobs Briggs Construction was on.
He’d spent over a decade as an Army Ranger, and I was shocked when he’d unexpectantly returned home to Wishing Well and asked if I had any work for him. There was a story there, but it was his to tell when he was ready. I didn’t pry because it was none of my business.
I’d always liked Hayden. He was my brother Coop’s age, and the two of them raised a little hell as teenagers, but I had a feeling there would have been a lot more hell raised if not for Hayden’s influence. And now, with his brother Hudson marrying Harmony in a little over a week, I guessed that made him family now. Extended family, at any rate.
It was hard for me to step back and let someone else take the reins of my business, but if it had to be anyone, I was glad it was someone capable who I trusted.
“Thanks, man, let me know if there are any problems.”
I hung up the phone and lifted my head, taking in the sun that was setting in the distance. I inhaled deeply as I tried to recalibrate my head from crisis mode back to regularly scheduled programming. For the past eighteen hours, I’d been operating at an emergency frequency, and this was the first chance I’d had to take a moment and regroup.
When I got to the hospital, I spent an hour in the emergency room with my brothers, sister, and mom as they worked on my dad. Then the doctors came out and told us that he’d suffered a myocardial infarction—or heart attack, in laymen’s terms—and was being taken in for an emergency triple bypass. The surgery lasted six hours, the longest six hours of my life. But, it was a success. And now my dad was awake and as ornery as ever.
When he started giving the nurses the business about what they had to offer for dinner, I’d excused myself to come down and make the call to Hayden. I’d been texting him and Mrs. Higgins all day, and they seemed to have everything in hand. The doctors expected my dad to make a full recovery. But none of that calmed the adrenaline racing through me.
Shaking out my arms, I rolled my neck from side to side as I paced the small courtyard area. I needed to get myself under control before I headed back up to my dad’s room. As relieved as everyone was, they were all still taking their cues from me. I could feel it. Every noise that he made, every time he nodded off or woke up, my brothers, sister and mom’s eyes would turn to me.
Now, more than ever before, I needed to be everyone’s rock.
After taking in several more deep breaths, I headed back in. I knew that my dad’s cardiologist was supposed to stop by for his evening rounds soon and I wanted to be there when he did. As I waited for the elevator doors to open, my mind automatically drifted to the person that it always did.
Delilah.
Pulling out my phone I reread the text that she’d sent me this morning. She’d said that she’d heard about dad, that she was sorry, asked if I was okay, and she was there if I needed anything. I did need something. Her. Through this entire ordeal, all I’d been wishing was that she was by my side.
I wanted to look into her eyes, to hold her hand, to pull her into my arms. It felt like if I could just see her, everything would be okay. That if she were by my side, I would be okay. Which was crazy. She wasn’t going to heal my dad, and I’d never needed anyone.
The doors to the elevator opened, and I stepped in and a sweet floral scent cut through the pungent disinfectant smell of the hospital. I knew I must be losing it because I could swear that I smelled her. I was so convinced, I pushed the door open and went back to the lobby to look for her. I even went out the sliding double doors and out to the parking lot because I was so sure that I’d smelled her, that I’d sensed her.
But there was no sign of her. Just strangers passing me with expressions that ranged from concern to disinterest. I went back in and up to the third floor. When I got off the elevator, I turned to the left and saw that my siblings and their significant others had cleared out of the waiting room. They only allowed three visitors at a time in with dad, so we’d been taking turns.
I figured that they must’ve gone down to the cafeteria or out to get some food. We’d all been here since last night at midnight, and we were running on fumes. As I turned the corner, I saw that my dad’s door was shut. We’d been keeping it open since the flow of people was fairly steady.
Figuring he might be resting, I opened the door as quietly as I could and started to take a step inside. What I saw almost made me check the number on the door. This wasn’t what it had looked like when I’d left a half hour ago. Now, there were flowers on every available surface. But then I saw my dad sleeping peacefully in his bed, and I knew I was in the right place.
“Let’s go out,” My mom whispered, as she intercepted me in the doorway and shooed me out. When we were in the hallway, she shut the door with an almost imperceptible click, turned to me, and placed her hand on my chest. “Go home and get some rest.”
“No.” This wasn’t negotiable. I was not leaving this hospital.
“Yes,” she countered. “The doctor was by, and he said what your dad needs the most is rest. I sent everyone home to eat, get a good night’s sleep, and come back in the morning. Go home, Sawyer. There’s nothing for you to do here.”
“What about you?” I said a little more defensively than I’d meant to. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“I’ll rest here. They brought me a cot that I can comfortably sleep in.” She looked me up and down. “You might be able to fit one leg on it.”
“I’m not leaving.” I would go crazy if I were home.
“Yes, you are.” Her tone was unmistakable. It was the one that she got when she dug her heels in. My mom could out-stubborn a mule.
“I don’t want to go.” I didn’t know how to make her understand that it was bad enough feeling helpless here, if I were home, I would go more insane than I already was.
“I know.” She nodded. “But you’re going to.”
She turned, indicating that the conversation was over. Before she went back inside, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “If you hurry, you might catch Delilah. She was just here. Such a sweet girl. Whoever wins her heart is a lucky guy.” And with that not-so-subtle statement, she disappeared into the room.
Delilah had been here. I wasn’t crazy when I stepped into the elevator.
I turned to leave, and even though there was nowhere else I wanted to be than here in this hospital, the chance that I might be able to see Delilah made me double-time it to the elevator.
Chapter 22
Delilah
“Worrying about coulda, woulda, shoulda, is as useful as a chocolate teapot.”
~ Grant Turner
Things could be worse, I told myself as I hit my head methodically on the steering wheel. I could be in a hospital bed like Mr. Briggs.
I hadn’t been able to make it over to the hospital until after closing because no one was available to come and cover the shop. My sisters and mom were all in Dallas on a shopping trip, and my dad was fishing.
I’d gone crazy not being able to get to the hospital sooner. I even considered closing the shop, but I knew that I had no real reason to do that. So
instead I finished my entire to-do list, including contacting the bank. They informed me that the check had never been deposited or cashed. I’d left a message with Dixie Porter, who handled the donations to try and sort out the mix-up. I still hadn’t heard back from her.
I had heard from almost everyone else in town, though. Word had spread quickly about Mr. Briggs and instead of bringing three or four arrangements I’d ended up with a baker’s dozen in the back of the van. Thankfully, an orderly had generously offered to help me take them all to his room, and we’d used a serving cart to transport them. Mr. Briggs looked tired, but the flowers did seem to brighten his demeanor and Mrs. Briggs had thanked me profusely and asked how I enjoyed the chicken. I hoped she hadn’t caught my blush as I told her how delicious it was.
There’d been no Sawyer sightings, which I’d told myself was for the best. I still wasn’t sure if I believed myself or not.
And now I was broken down on the side of the highway, twenty miles outside of Wishing Well, sitting in Old Faithful. This van was certainly living up to the sarcastic name my dad had given it.
On my forehead’s last trip down to the steering wheel, I just left it resting there. I folded my arms over my face. I was done. I was officially giving up.
I was sure my defeatist attitude wasn’t being helped by the fact that I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since I’d been in Sawyer’s bed. Every time I closed my eyes, a slideshow of my “one time” with Sawyer started playing. But besides that, there wasn’t anything that could make me this grumpy as quickly as feeling helpless.
“Everything okay?”
I raised my head and was startled to see the star of my “one time” slideshow live and in person. What was he doing here? “Is your dad…Is he…”
“He’s fine. Mom sent everyone home.” His left brow rose in question. “How about you? Are you okay?”
For some reason his casual attitude rubbed me the wrong way. I’d been torturing myself all day worrying about him, about how he was doing and he seemed…fine. I opened my mouth and was about to tell him that I was just great, not that he cared—but then I realized that there was no need to be rude. He hadn’t done anything but been a man of his word. He’d made it clear what he was and wasn’t offering, and like a fool, I’d taken him up on it.
Since I didn’t want to be unkind, I took a page out of Sawyers book and just delivered the bare minimum of necessary information. “Van broke down.”
Sawyer gave me that little trace of a smile that was his signature move. The one that would leave me wondering for days and days whether I’d just imagined it because I wanted to see it so bad, or if he had really been amused by something I’d said.
This time, I wouldn’t have to wonder. He was definitely amused by me, but not because I was so witty and clever.
“I can see that.”
Without even asking if I needed—or wanted—his help he pulled open my door. I was getting to be a master at deciphering his subtle and unspoken forms of communication.
“I called triple A.”
There was the slightest tick in his jaw before he stated the obvious. “It’s getting dark.”
I bit the inside of my lip and considered my options. I knew that I didn’t need to be here for them to tow the van, this wasn’t my first time at the roadside assistance rodeo. And I’d much rather get a ride home, take a hot, soothing bath, and then eat something—which I’d forgotten to do today.
With a sigh, I snatched the useless keys out of the ignition and got out of the van, following him to the passenger side of his vehicle, where he opened the door for me and held my elbow as I climbed in.
My dark angel.
If he weren’t such a gentleman, it would be so much easier to squash my feelings for him. But, he was what he was, and he did what he did. So, I realized that I was going to have to resign myself to the fact that I also was who I was, and did what I did—and that was, love Sawyer. There was no way around it.
He climbed into his side of the truck, turned his key in the ignition—which worked perfectly, and off we went.
I fidgeted beside him. “I saw your dad. He looks good.”
“Yeah. He does.”
“He was giving one of the nurses the business about not wanting to eat tapioca pudding.”
Sawyer grinned and the sight had my heart pitter pattering. I ignored it.
Hoping to sound like the concerned friend that I was, I casually mentioned, “I don’t know if you got my text, I messaged you as soon as I hear—”
“I got it.” His shoulders tensed and I didn’t need to be a body language expert to pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to discuss it any further.
As we drove into town, my defeatist attitude got a shot in the arm. I was seized by a sudden urge. An overwhelming impulse to grab this opportunity with both hands and not let it go.
I mean, it wasn’t as if Sawyer and I were riding around in a small-enclosed space together with no interruptions every day of the week. It’d happened twice in all the time that I’d known him. This was a rare chance. A chance where I had him as a captive audience. He had to listen to what I said. He had very few other choices.
I knew this wasn’t, perhaps, the best time. But how bad could hearing that someone loved you be? Before I could talk myself out of it, I counted backward and took the plunge.
“I’m in love with you,” I stated, my tone matter-of-fact.
This wasn’t a “begging him to feel the same way” type of situation. It wasn’t even an “I hope this is the turning point that will make things come together for us” kind of a thing.
No, this was just a “Delilah is sick and tired of hoping people know how she feels and then being disappointed when they don’t” situation.
His reaction was something I had no control over. But laying out the facts? That was completely in my control, and I was going to take charge of my part. I was woman, hear me roar, and all that.
“I understand that you don’t feel the same way. And that’s fine. Well, it’s not, I mean, I wish things were different. With my whole heart, I wish that you felt the same way about me. But, how you feel or don’t feel doesn’t change the way that I feel. And what I feel is…love. Plain and simple. I love you. I don’t need you. I’ll be fine and go on with my life without you. I just wanted you to know that I love you.”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. He didn’t even look at me.
My stomach churned. I was sweating, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the overwhelming heat outside of the vehicle.
I started to doubt myself. Did I honestly think that I could bare my heart and soul to him—make myself that vulnerable—and just not care what his reaction might be? That I would actually feel empowered?
News flash: I didn’t feel empowered, and I did care what his reaction was.
What kind of a person would think that they could just declare their undying love for someone and walk away as if nothing happened? A crazy person, that’s who.
Yep. That’s what everyone was going to say about me after I adopted my thirty cats and started walking around in thrift stores, wearing mismatched hand-me-downs, and rocking a rat’s nest for hair.
That Delilah, they would say, she was such a great girl. She had it all together until she started reading self-help books and worked up the delusional courage to tell Sawyer Briggs how she felt about him. Then they’d shake their heads sadly at the tragedy of it all and cluck their tongues. Such a shame, they’d say. Poor girl, she should’ve known better.
But, I’d decided to put myself out there and at least I could look back and know that I’d left it all on the field of love.
Sawyer suddenly jerked the wheel to the left. His arm covered me, keeping me in place. I was just recognizing the déjà vu of it all when the tires screeched to a stop. I opened the eyes that I hadn’t even been aware that I’d closed to see that he’d pulled into the picturesque spot by the river where we had eaten together after the fund
raiser.
The location of our first date. At least, in my book, it was a date.
My heart suddenly sank into my stomach as an unsettling thought occurred to me. This was a full circle kind of a thing. He’d pulled in here because he was planning to let me down easy.
It was private. There were some people across the river, but they were far away, on the other side of the bridge. There was no light other than the stars to illuminate us.
I ached everywhere at the thought of him telling me that he’d made it clear that he didn’t have feelings and all we’d had was sex. My bones felt like acid was slowly leaking from the marrow.
Inhaling slowly, I steeled myself for his next words. I tried to tell myself that at least I wouldn’t spend my entire life wondering what would’ve happened if I’d had the courage to lay it all on the line. The outcome wasn’t going to be what I’d hoped, but I would know that now, and I could grieve the loss of that dream and move on. Better than living in limbo.
And I almost believed it. Still, there was a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I was an idiot for thinking that way; that I should’ve continued to live my predictable little life where I could at least curl up at night with the warm memory of my one time with Sawyer without it being tarnished by this. That wouldn’t have been entirely satisfying, but at least it had been safe. And a heck of a lot less embarrassing.
But, when I found the courage to turn towards Sawyer, the it’s-not-you-its-me wasn’t the vibe I was getting. His intense stare held mine for a long moment. The emotion in his golden gaze was flicking back and forth like he was searching for something. Like he was trying to come to some sort of difficult decision.
I lost all the breath in my lungs. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were, good news or bad news. I was never not going to be breathless when Sawyer looked at me with such unbridled focus. It was just one of those things.
Seducing Sawyer (Wishing Well, Texas Book 7) Page 14
