To See You Smile: A Heartwood Novella

by Brea Viragh

  “I knew there was stamina beneath that rough exterior. Stamina and the heart of a teddy bear. Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

  Sawyer drew in a deep inhale. “I like my privacy while I work. Part of living in a small town means knowing your neighbor. Knowing the people who walk down the street with you. And I don’t want anyone dropping by and interrupting my flow. So I keep to myself. Keep the rest of the world at arm’s length while I do what I need to do. Then you came along and now I don’t know which way is up and which is down.”

  “I understand not wanting to be bothered. But part of expanding your business means you’re going to have to learn to adjust your schedule. You know that.”

  He brought her closer, tucked against his side like she belonged there. “I figured I can hire someone else to do the dirty work for me. A public relations expert. You’d be pretty good at it, if you could learn to hold that snippy tongue of yours.”

  “I wouldn’t work for you if you offered me a million dollars a year.”

  “Be careful what you say,” he warned. “Soon I might have the cash to actually make that offer, and then where will you be?”

  He hoped she would be right here. Snuggled next to him with her warmth and curves. With her sweet scent and soft hair tickling his skin. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. It would be easy to picture her there every night.

  “Tell me more about this mess with your brother,” she replied, stifling a yawn.

  Under normal circumstances this would have been Sawyer’s cue to retreat. Hell, with his past girlfriends, he’d have never let it get this far. There were certain boundaries he kept in place. Certain walls he refused to lower in order to keep his mental and emotional distance.

  The screws on his lips seemed permanently loosened. “Now?”

  “Why not?” Lorelei shifted and propped her chin on his chest to stare at him through the darkness. “I’m sure there’s a deep pool of information I’ve only dipped my toe into. I want to learn more.”

  “There’s not much to tell. We were always competitive with each other, you know?”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Well, aren’t you Little Miss Perfect? Maverick and I were always trying to one-up the other. It happened that Maverick came out the winner nine times out of ten. I was left out in the metaphorical cold. It got a little tiring to always stay in his shadow. Even with my parents, I could never quite measure up.”

  “Now you want to prove yourself,” Lorelei stated.

  “Of course I do. I have talent, and I don’t mean to sound like I have a big head, but—”

  “Your head is not just big, it’s humongous, by the way, but you’re right. You have the skills to back up the claims. A real talent.”

  Sawyer shifted on his hip to face her, their eyes connecting in the muted dark. “I’ve spent years working on a business plan. Marketing and promotions. Putting myself out there when I’d rather be home, locked in my office. Because I knew it could work. I know my plan can change everything. The only thing I don’t have is the funds to set things in motion. Which is why I needed Maverick.”

  “Needed. Past tense. Did he say no to you?”

  He might as well have. After bailing on his brother and Daisy at the fair on Friday afternoon, and not having any of his phone calls answered, Sawyer had a clear understanding of their new positions. He’d botched his move, and instead of fumbling to catch up, a certain woman with wild brown hair now filled his thoughts.

  “Not yet. He said he would think about it, when we were on the way to the fair. Since then I haven’t heard diddly-squat from him. Trying to make me sweat, maybe. I suspect he’s thinking up creative ways to torture me before he says no.”

  Lorelei grinned and patted the side of Sawyer’s cheek. “We’ll find a way to get the money.”

  “We? Who said anything about we?”

  “I’m Mrs. Parksdale, remember. I’ve started to feel responsible for you. Ugh, I hate admitting to it, but I want to see you succeed. I want to help you accomplish your dreams.”

  “What about your dreams, Lorelei? What goes on in your pretty little head, besides thinking up creative insults for me?” He twirled a lock of hair around his finger, reveling in the softness.

  “I dream,” she began slowly, “about making a good life for my kid. I want to see her happy. Healthy. A valuable, contributing member of society.”

  “Admirable. And typical.”

  She swallowed. Her voice was soft, no hard edges. “I’m proud to be a typical mom and invest in my daughter. I also dream about seeing the world. I want to travel and experience different places and cultures. I want to make a difference. Not just in my kid’s life, but in the lives of the children I teach.”

  “Maybe I’d like to see you accomplish your dreams, too.”

  She stretched to place a kiss on his cheek and Sawyer felt a curious melting in the center of his chest. “Well, isn’t that sweet.”

  “Sweet. Right.”

  “I’m going downstairs to get a glass of water. You thirsty too?”

  “Yeah, thanks. Why don’t you grab a bag of chips or something while you’re there. I’m starving. No, on second thought, why don’t you make us a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

  “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me by taking this wife thing too far, or if you know just what to say to get me all mushy. Peanut butter and jelly is my favorite food group.”

  Sawyer grinned. “Don’t be long.”

  Lorelei shot him a saucy look over her shoulder, stooping to grab his t-shirt from the floor. She jerked it over her head and the fabric fell to her knees.

  “You look like you’re wearing a circus tent.”

  “It’s the height of fashion. Don’t you know anything?”

  He listened to her bare feet pad down the hallway. Lacing his arms behind his head, Sawyer bit the inside of his lip and wondered if he’d lucked out or made a huge mistake. It was difficult to tell. Something told him it was the former, though his mind bucked against the thought. He was more comfortable with a mistake. Mistakes meant he didn’t have to change his life all around. He wouldn’t be thinking about what he was doing next week, outside of his art. What he would do three weeks from now, three months, three years.

  In the past, when he’d thought about the future, there were only two constants: money and chimes. Now? Now he wondered how much time it would take to convert the guest bedroom—AKA catch-all room—into a bedroom for Allison. There was plenty of space here for a kid. Maybe even a damn dog. The yard was certainly big enough, and now that Lorelei had taken great pains to get the garden beds in order again, Sawyer was starting to see the potential. There was a good half-acre to run and roam. The flat spot near the fence line would be perfect for a swing set.

  An image flashed in his head of some vague day in the future where Sawyer came out of his workshop, busier than he could imagine, and there was Lorelei on the porch. Allison getting off the school bus. Millions of people managed to balance a family and a career. While he’d never pictured himself as the type to balance—and, granted, it might be the lovemaking warping his brain—he thought maybe he could now.

  First he’d have to convince Lorelei that moving in with him was a good idea for everyone involved. It might be a tough sell. The toughest. In the end, Sawyer was sure she’d agree. Eventually. After a few good arguments and great make-up sex. If he was lucky.

  He was lost in his head for too long before he looked at the clock. Twenty minutes. How the hell was it taking Lorelei this long to make a couple of sandwiches? Thinking of ways to surprise her, Sawyer headed to the kitchen in nothing but a pair of boxers. He was halfway down the stairs when he caught the sound of voices. Whispered voices. One of them definitely male.

  Sawyer kept his footsteps light, reaching the middle step and wincing when the wood creaked. He strained to catch snatches of the conversation he clearly wasn’t supposed to hear.

  “You shouldn’t be here.
It’s one o’clock in the morning and you stink like a brewery,” Lorelei said in a harsh whisper.

  “I had to come talk to you,” the man answered—in a damnably familiar voice. “About the girl.”

  What the hell was Maverick doing in the house?

  From his vantage point in the darkness, Sawyer watched Lorelei cross her arms over her chest, looking like Wonder Woman’s rural and pissed-off twin sister. “She has a name and you know well enough to use it.”

  “I’m not here to argue semantics with you,” Maverick slurred in response, obviously deep in his cups. The normally pressed lines of his suit were wrinkled, his tie loose and hanging around his neck. He looked like he hadn’t slept since Sawyer left him and Daisy at the park.

  Maverick maintained his balance long enough to point a finger at Lorelei before running a hand through his hair. Sawyer knew from experience that his brother was great at holding his liquor. He must have had a Titanic-sized glass to be on the verge of a good drunk.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t in Sawyer’s nature to feel sorry for his brother. Not when both he and Lorelei were taking great pains not to be overheard.

  “I’m still not exactly sure why you’re here,” she said. “Please tell me you didn’t drive.”

  “There are certain matters we need to discuss. Ones that have nothing to do with my wife, Sawyer, or whatever crazy business plans he’s concocted. I’m here to talk to you.”

  Sawyer fought down a flash of anger threatening to burn his esophagus.

  “Go back to your hotel room. You’ve been drinking. You shouldn’t even be driving.” Lorelei moved to push Maverick in the direction of the door.

  The soles of his loafers dug into the hardwood and for all he’d had to drink, the man didn’t budge. “Not until you give me answers.” He reached behind his waist and took hold of her arm. Fingers digging deep.

  She stared down at his hand, eyebrows drawing together. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”

  “You remember that night about six years ago?” Maverick asked. “You and a group of your friends went to a bar over in Cedarville.”

  “I remember.” She tugged her arm until Maverick was forced to let go. “And?”

  “I was in town letting off a little steam. You beat me at pool.”

  “Kicked your ass,” she corrected.

  “You were fucking gorgeous. Short-shorts and tank top showing off your beautiful body. That tiny little tattoo on your lower back. I traced the outline with my tongue. I remember how you trembled when I touched you. When I tasted you.”

  The haze of fury overtook Sawyer until his vision turned red.

  In direct contrast to the ball of ice dropping into his stomach.

  Lorelei scoffed. “A million years ago.” At once aware of her attire, she tugged the end of Sawyer’s shirt lower until it reached her knees.

  “I’d had a few too many lagers,” Maverick continued. “You were shooting tequila out of some girl’s belly button.”

  “Like I said. A million years ago.”

  “What a crazy night. You were like a little minx. Ripe, sexy, ready to be picked. Then, in the front seat of my car…” He let his voice trail off.

  “It’s a night I’ve tried to forget over the course of my life. You came here to give me a history lesson?”

  “Just trying to remember the backstory. You gave me quite a surprise the other night.”

  Lorelei leaned against the hallway table, crossing her legs at the ankles. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

  “Dinner. Turkey. A certain phone call with an interesting subject—your kid swallowing a bunch of change.”

  “Get to the point!”

  Sawyer was about two-point-five seconds away from rushing in when Maverick went for the kill shot.

  “Tell me, Lorelei. Tell me Allison isn’t mine.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lorelei could have strangled Maverick in that moment. She was used to the feeling, used to battling the itch starting on the palms and roaming up the length of her arms until she almost couldn’t control it. It came part and parcel with having a precocious child. Of course she’d never intentionally harm Allison. But Maverick? Different story. But in his case, there was little she could do without incriminating herself. Maverick was clearly out of his mind. And in desperate need of a shower.

  “She’s not yours,” Lorelei ground out between clenched teeth. “I would have told you. Don’t you think that’s a subject I might have mentioned in conversation? Jeez, man.”

  “Are you sure?” he insisted, stumbling closer. “She looks a hell of a lot like me.”

  Her hands went to her hips again. “And how would you know?”

  “I saw you three together at the fair. She’s got my hair color, my chin. Looks enough like me to have me wondering if I shouldn’t contact my lawyers for a DNA test.”

  If it wasn’t so completely absurd, it almost would have been laughable. “Maverick, we had sex once. Once! In the front seat of a Ford, for God’s sake. That was over and done long before I got involved with Tommy, and another eight months passed between that first meeting and me peeing on a stick. I can assure you, you are not Allison’s father. She is the spitting image of my grandfather and I won’t let anyone tell me different.”

  “If I find out you’re hiding something from me—”

  “You’ll what? Whip out your tweezers and rip a hair from her head? I swear before all things holy, if you had knocked me up, then you would have been the first to hear about it. Childbirth is no easy thing, and that’s with morning sickness aside. I would have come for you with a carving knife.”

  The relief was evident in every inch of his body, a visible relaxing of his shoulders. “I’m glad to hear you say it. I was worried.”

  Lorelei reached out and ran a hand along his arm. “I understand. I would have freaked out too if I were in your shoes. Don’t worry, Maverick. Tommy is holed up in a bar somewhere with his new squeeze, doing a tap dance around his child support payments. Trust me when I say you have nothing to stress over. And just so we’re clear, she has my hair color and my chin, thank you very much. She’s my little twin.”

  “It certainly gave me pause.” Maverick chuckled, swiveling to stare at the ceiling, hands laced behind his head. “I’m not sure how many sleepless nights there’ve been since I saw you together at the fair.”

  “Um, two. Pretty sure there were only two.”

  From the look on his face, Maverick found her quips annoying. That was fine, Lorelei thought. Keep him annoyed and he was sure to leave quicker. She had better places to be. Like upstairs in bed with Maverick’s brother. The thought had heat rising to her cheeks.

  “Nice picture, by the way,” Maverick continued. “You and Sawyer and Allison.”

  “I’m sure the booze has had nothing to do with your sleepless nights. But thank you.”

  It had been a nice picture. At least, she imagined it as such. And a great afternoon. Sawyer, for all of his faults, had been a natural with Allison. To the point where it had Lorelei’s heart going pitty-pat.

  “Have you told Sawyer about us yet?”

  Oh yeah, back to the immediate and somewhat insane conversation. “Maverick, there was never an us to tell him about,” she snapped. “He isn’t owed an explanation about all my one-night stands. Okay? I told him we’d met before and he accepted it. Don’t go sticking your nose into places where it doesn’t belong.”

  Maverick swallowed a chuckle which turned into the daintiest burp Lorelei had ever heard. He held his composure well for a man who was probably balls deep into a bottle of bourbon. “I’m not sure he would take it well if you told him the whole story.”

  “He would flip out. I’d expect no less from him, at this point.”

  “You look good together,” Maverick said. “You know? Like a neat and tidy little package.”

  “Whatever we look like, it’s none of your business.” She brought Sawyer’s shirt closer around her hip
s, dragging the material down and embarrassed that most of her legs were showing. “You and your opinion can go back to the hotel. And your wife. It’s Sunday, after all. We really don’t appreciate any kind of pop-ins on Sunday.”

  For once, she agreed with Sawyer. This was one intrusion she definitely couldn’t tolerate.

  “Fine, I recognize the end of a conversation when I hear one. I’ll head out.”

  “Maybe we should call someone to give you a ride.”

  Maverick waved her concern over his shoulder and out the door. “It’s a ten-minute drive and Daisy is napping in the passenger seat. She’ll get us back to the hotel.”

  “I’m sure she was real happy being woken up to drive over here.”

  “The woman stays up until three in the morning on a regular basis.”

  Like it was some kind of an answer. “Great for her.” Absently, she wondered why Maverick had decided to stop by when he did. Whatever was eating him must have chewed on a nerve, she supposed when he looped his arms around her for a quick hug.

  What a silly thing to worry about. Maverick as Allison’s father. He clearly didn’t remember the most important detail of their brief time together. For all her wild ways, Lorelei kept a condom in her purse and always remembered to use it. Well, almost always. There were clearly some exceptions.

  He went on his way without another word. Lorelei shivered as she locked the door behind him, leaning against the wood, letting her head drop. She supposed it could have been a worse morning, beyond a potential baby-daddy drama. A baby-daddy who wasn’t.

  She laughed at her own joke and glanced up the stairs to where Sawyer was waiting. Sawyer. He’d make a decent parent one day. He might not realize it, and neither had she upon first getting to know him, but he would be perfect for the job.

  With whatever woman he finally conned into marriage, she thought hastily. He’d been great with Allison at the fair, patient and kind without falling into the pushover category. He’d been a sweet and considerate lover as well. Sawyer may look gruff on the outside, but inside, where it counted, was a good heart.

  Oh. God.

  Lorelei stopped short in the hallway on her way to the kitchen, one hand rising to her heart. It couldn’t be. Ugh, of all the lousy, ill-timed mishaps to happen to her in her life.