by Emily Childs
“Only around you, Lucky.” The air changes. Blunt as I am with this man, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Sawyer’s stark hazel eyes lock on me and the laughter dies. Oh no—my fingertips have the gall to touch his jawline. They’ve been patiently waiting all morning, and tossed into such a close, tempting situation, who can blame them, really?
I note how Sawyer’s breath hitches and realize I’m not breathing at all. At the small of my back, Sawyer’s hand traces the divots of the end of my spine. All tangled like a twister mat on the chair, I’m sure we’re a sight to see. But for a few moments, it’s as if neither of us cares.
Until Sawyer snaps back to reality. He clears his throat and promptly removes his hand off my back. A heartbeat later we’re on our feet, a good distance apart, smoothing out our business casual.
“Let’s hope we’re better on our feet this weekend,” he says dryly.
“Yeah,” is all I can manage.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
When he leaves, I trace the top of the sweet tea bottle, glancing at the quarter inside and think of the night by the river where we’d flicked coins at this old thing, laughing until our sides hurt. I think of when Sawyer made the first shot.
“A one in a hundred shot,” he said with a laugh.
“Bet you can’t make it again,” I said.
Sawyer had wiggled his brows and kissed the tip of my nose. “What’ll you give me if I do, Dottie?”
“Hmm, I could think of a few things.”
He’d gotten serious. The smooth timbre of his voice deepened. “Would you marry me?”
I’d been too stunned for words. Somehow I’d managed a mute nod, stomach tight. He’d winked—I think—then faced the bottle again. The thing I remember most is the clink of the coin against the glass bottle when it dropped inside, the way he faced me, drew me close, and kissed me like it was the first time all over again.
I’d brushed my hand over the stubble on his face and whispered, “I ought to call you Lucky from now on.”
Just now Sawyer smiled at the memory, like it burned inside him the same as it burned in me. But something clearly soured the thought and he’d gone inward all over again. Trouble is I have no idea what.
Men are fickle things.
Chapter 6
Dot
Lily keeps wringing her hands, and it’s never a good sign. She said she had something to talk to me about regarding the documentation, but busy days got the better of us and we still haven’t had our chat.
“You good?” I ask.
Lily flicks her eyes to me. “No,” she whispers even—another sign she’s nervous.
Lily is sweet as cream, but one of the loudest when it’s time to cut loose. Since August got off the shop early, Jace and Will’s Honeyville offices are in the shopping center complex, we decided to finish the day at a weird trendy coffee shop the siblings adore.
I try to pretend the complex is not a hundred yards away from the HealthyRx offices.
“What’s up?” I nudge Lily with my elbow.
“Dottie, another note of mine is all wacky. Ever since the payments started coming in weird, I’ve been saving my original notes to compare to the ones the insurance sends back. I hate to say it—”
“I know,” I interject. Whatever is happening in our clinic is shady as all get out. The way our documentation mystery is turning out is looking more and more like an inside job. In truth, I’m not sure I can stay objective if it is. It’ll be too personal. I can’t quite wrap my head around the idea that someone—possibly one of our own—might be messing with our documentation and billing to get a higher payout. Fraud is a thing, Jo knows that better than anyone, and that’s the reason people like Sawyer and his keen eye exist.
Part of me doesn’t want to face this. It took so much work to revive the clinic after the last insurance blunder, and that was an accident. Jo has invested everything in this place, Lily depends on her paychecks, but she’s not the only one. So many people need our doors to keep running.
A biting pain spreads like a flood behind my eyes. We do good with our work. I truly believe we’re making a difference for folks here. Why would anyone want to damage that?
“We’ll get it figured out,” I tell her. “But leave that to my office, okay? You’re going to get an ulcer.”
She smirks and laces her arm through August’s. “I’ll chill. For now.”
Halfway across the parking lot, my phone dings. “Hey, the others aren’t coming.”
Jace pauses and glances over her shoulder. “Why?”
I hold up my phone, showing the screen with the text from Olive. “Olive and Jo are staying to help with the end of quarter books at the shop since Zac’s receptionist is on maternity leave, I guess.”
Lily lifts her head and glances at August. “Maybe we should go help.”
“How many people need to do the books? Besides, we have the kid who’ll do more damage than good.” Brin is perched on his hip, and he taps her nose.
“Someday you’re not going to be able to use our daughter as an excuse to get out of things, you know.”
“Not true. In a few years we’ll have recitals, baseball games, and homework. Then, it’ll be boy-watch-dad-duty. You know, sitting on the porch with my shotgun. That’ll be time consuming. Then, I’ll be able to say, oh, she’s goin’ to college soon, so we need to spend all the time we can with her. Someday it’ll come full circle and we’ll have grandkids to use as an excuse.”
Lily smacks his shoulder. “Ugh, don’t remind me it’s all going to go so fast.”
August chuckles and presses a kiss to the side of her head.
A little ashamed I hadn’t thought to help my friends first, I send a message and Olive replies in thirty seconds. “Ollie says they’re nearly finished, but they’ll raincheck it.”
“Chickens.” Will pokes his head out the door of the coffeehouse. “You know they’re using it as an excuse to get out of this gem of a place.”
Jace snorts and sneers at her brother. “I’m surprised y’all came, since I’ve heard at least a hundred times how everyone thinks the coffee tastes like soggy boots.”
“My friends have no taste,” Will adds.
Jace hooks her arm through mine. “Come on. Maybe you guys can convince them that English roast is delicious and we can make this a thing.”
I chuckle. As a group, we already have dinners and barbecues and movie nights. What’s one more tradition at Jace and Will’s coffeehouse? Besides, going home to the beach house is getting harder, and like a fool, I spend too much time staring out the window at the blue palace. What does it matter if his lights are on or off? I don’t need to sit and worry about if he has company or not. This will be a good distraction.
The coffeehouse is quaint. Pastel paint on chairs, exposed brick walls, a small gift shop in the corner with chic décor. I’m not a huge coffee drinker, but it’s bustling with interesting people. A few blue-collar workers sit next to a table of women on laptops. Behind them, ladies with scarves in ninety-degree weather gossip over iced coffees.
“The French vanilla latte sounds good.”
That voice—my stomach drops out of my shoes. Why does the universe hate me! Better question, why are there only two coffeehouses in Honeyville? Bound to happen that Sawyer would show his face somewhere. After earlier, though, I’d rather not see the man.
My pulse thuds unforgivingly in my skull. He’s with the same woman from the store, and she keeps muttering something to him. I must’ve made a ridiculous noise because Will wrinkles his forehead when he looks at me. Those bemused glances make him look a great deal like Jace. With his reddish hair and her blonde, it’s really the only time the family resemblance is there.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I grab his arm and cling to his bicep. “I’m going to laugh like you’ve told the best joke ever, okay?”
“What?”
I don’
t answer and giggle because I intend to show Sawyer that I have not cried in my office half the day, I haven’t needed him all this time. I intend to show him I’ve moved on and stand by my declarations for morphing from head-over-heels lovers to indifferent business acquaintances.
Sawyer turns over his shoulder. On first glance, I catch the last markers of one of his toe-curling smiles fade into something sterner. I thought he might glare at me, but to my surprise his eyes brighten.
The woman turns, too, and Will turns into putty at my side. I’d like to smack the back of his head and tell him to get a grip. Yes, she’s beautiful. Full dark hair, lashes for weeks, and the shapeliest brows I never knew were possible. But he needs to keep it together and go limp pretending to swoon over me.
“Dottie?” Sawyer says as though it’s a one in a million chance we’d ever meet again.
Dottie again. I balk inwardly. What a . . . ugh, he’s got me so fired up I can’t even think of an insult, but I do my best. With my pseudo smile in place, I let out a squeaky laugh. “Lucky! My, what a surprise seeing you here.” Pretend until I believe myself.
His jaw pulses. Serves him right. Maybe I can train him that every time he calls me Dottie, Lucky is coming right back at him.
To my surprise, Jace is the one who steps forward. “Hi, I’m Jace. And you are?”
Sawyer doesn’t look at me, but turns his delightful smile to Jace. “Sawyer Lanford.”
Jace lifts her brows, recognizing the name. “Oh-ho, I’ve been waiting to meet you, then. Put a name to the stories I’ve heard.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” he says with that stupidly perfect grin on his stupidly perfect face.
August steps forward and shakes Sawyer’s hand. For the love, even Lily gives him a little smile.
“Look at her,” says the girl at Sawyer’s side, forgetting she’s meant to shoot daggers at me, and tickles Brin’s chin until the toddler giggles. And that’s all it takes to gain the trust of August and Lily.
“Dot,” Will whispers. “Who is this we’re talking to?”
“Will,” Jace interrupts before I can say anything. “This is Dot’s ex.”
My mouth parts as my stomach turns around like taffy on a puller. Why did she introduce him like that? Leave it to Jace to either be the biggest tease, or the sweetly oblivious one of the group. Sometimes it’s as if she can’t feel the tension growing thicker than honey.
Even more, leave it to Will to make an awkward situation even worse. He abandons me, smiling big and white, and holds out his hand for Sawyer. “Oh, cool. I’ve heard a lot about you from the other guys. Good to finally meet you. I’m a friend of Dot’s, and Jace here is my little sister.”
Like the beast he is, Sawyer shakes Will’s hand, almost victoriously. Is this part of his plan? Steal my friends away, so he can . . . what? Make sure everywhere I look I see remnants of him? No, the guy who proposed to me over a bottle of sweet tea wasn’t this vindictive. I had to believe the good-hearted, sweet lover Sawyer had once been still lived somewhere inside this business tycoon in front of me.
Still, I could smack my friends. Everyone likes Sawyer, I get it. Or maybe Will is forming his new bromance because the man takes too much satisfaction in making us all squirm. Either way, this feels a lot like betrayal. Yes, Sawyer was once nice. He schmoozed everyone—me included. I thought my people might bare their teeth a little more.
Then I get it. Will’s not really looking at Sawyer. He’s already moved on to the woman. Does he have no respect? Clearly she’s here with Sawyer—maybe he doesn’t see the weeping dagger in my chest.
“Will Whitney,” he tells her and shakes her hand.
She studies him for half a breath as if he might burst into flames. Based on the fierce way the girl can pull off a scowl, I thought her voice would come out all sharp and edgy, but when she says her name, it’s soft. Like she’s afraid to speak. “Maddie.”
Sawyer’s eyes are on me, his voice a touch lower, rougher. Almost as if he’s talking directly at me without being obvious. “Maddie’s my cousin. She’ll be staying with me for a while.”
Oh goodness, I hope it isn’t obvious when the bulbous weight on my shoulders breaks apart. His cousin. A cousin. Then again, why does it matter? It’s not like I have a say in his life anymore.
“Welcome to Honeyville. Small, but has heart. We’re transplants, too,” Will says, a new determined grin on his face. I feel the obligation to warn him. This girl seems as cozy as a porcupine. “How’ve you been liking it so far?”
“It’s fine. As you said—a little small.” Maddie pinches her lips and takes a small step back, her eyes lock on me again. Sawyer, on the other hand, is all smiles.
“Why don’t y’all join us?” he says. “It’s packed. Might as well share a table.”
“Um . . .” Jace gives me a look.
My mind is whirring, trying to come up with some excuse, then I catch Will’s expression. He’s communicating with his eyes, a few nods toward Maddie, brows raised. Is he serious? Will talks big, acts like he’s the king of the world, but now that I know him better, he’s actually shy. It’s no small thing that he’s asserting an interest in someone.
Ugh. He’s going to owe me big.
“Sure,” I mutter. “I’d rather sit than stand in the corner.”
Sawyer is pleased as pie. He claps is hands. “Great. I’ll grab the orders.”
There is a bit of a shuffle on who stays and who goes to help. Somehow I misstep and end up at the counter with Sawyer. My friends tucked in a booth with a nervous-looking Maddie. The honey-thick tension is practically bedrock now.
Sawyer’s hands are in his pockets, he’s rocking on his feet. Doubtless his mind is going a thousand miles an hour. Instinct demands I speak to help ground him, a task I loved when he loved me. This morning had been the old fidgety Sawyer. Whenever he got excited or nervous, he’d get stuck and couldn’t get the words out.
I always loved being the one who could reel him back. It’s not my job anymore, but standing in the quiet is worse.
“Maddie,” I say, “she’s the one who lived in Tennessee?”
Sawyer flicks his eyes to me, jaw tight. “Yep.”
“And her husband—”
“Is still a dirtbag, but going to be out of the picture soon.”
His hands are out now, fiddling with the button on the cuff of his jacket.
Oh Mylanta, I smiled. Quickly, correcting the problem I cross my arms over my chest, as if I can protect myself from him. Or maybe protect me from me. Every nerve ending seems to scream at me to step closer, to breathe him in. “If he’s so bad, then I’m glad she’s here and not there.”
Sawyer takes me in for half a breath. “Me too. She sent divorce papers today, so she needed a pick-me-up.”
I spare a glance at the booth. Will and Jace are laughing at something, wholly engaged in bringing Maddie into the conversation. Brin is hardly working to win her over. Maddie smiles and I decide right there she’s much lovelier when she smiles.
“Good thing she’s with all those crazies, then,” I say. “They know how to chase away the rain clouds.”
Our orders are called, and we fall back into the tenuous quiet. At the booth, Jace scoots over and urges me to sit with her. Will doesn’t even notice we’ve returned and is going on about something with Maddie. She’s not much of a conversationalist, but knowing what I do, maybe it’s simply because she’s been told to be quiet for too long. As much as she clearly hates me, for her sake, I’m almost glad we sat together. Will has a gentility about him that puts everyone at ease.
“So, Sawyer,” Jace says when my smoothie is halfway gone. A smoothie because the coffee is weird. “What got you into insurance? I hear you own some big firm up in Raleigh.”
“Co-owner, really. And I wouldn’t say we’re huge, but we’re making connections.”
“Huh. And you specialize in training providers on insurance? Is that something most folks do?”
�
��We added it to our list of products, you could say.”
August leans over on his elbows. “I kind of like that idea. Probably breaks up all the boring paperwork stuff. No offense.”
Sawyer twists his coffee mug around once, as if gathering his thoughts. “Agreed. It was an opportunity, I guess.” His eyes lock on me. Why? I couldn’t tell you. “To make something of myself.”
There he goes again with all that not enough stuff. Why in the blazes did he sound so bitter?
Jace nods and takes a sip from her teacup. “Interesting.” She’s starting to interrogate, and I sort of love it. It’s Jace’s sugar-sweet way of unraveling who this guy is and understanding why he turned into such a heartbreaker. “But I’m wondering if business is going so well, why branch into the app stuff? Seems like a big corporation would keep you plenty busy.”
“It does,” he admits. “My business partner wasn’t thrilled when I branched out.”
“So why do it?”
“Sawyer has always been good with tech,” Maddie jumps in, then curls back as if she spoke out of turn.
“I’ve always been impressed with those who are,” Will says, and I go out on a limb to guess he’s saying it to keep Maddie talking, not to stroke Sawyer’s ego.
“So, this app business, that’s your true passion?” Jace asks.
Sawyer shrugs. A bit of red tints his ears. Never one to love the limelight. “It’s closer to what I like.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out what I know of Sawyer. Anything to keep the focus off the fact that at least two people at this table have one tragic history is ideal.
Lily ties a knot in the paper wrapper from her straw. “It’s interesting. I think the app could help the clinic, but I’ve got to admit, having some training would help, too.”
“Lil,” I warn.
She winces, but faces me. “Dottie, I really mean it. It’s weird, girl. Maybe it’s a simple fix, but first it was funds not adding up, now it’s like we’re getting an influx of reimbursement.”
“Sounds like an auditor’s nightmare,” Will grumbles.
