“What do you think, honey?” he asked. “Is there anything in here that pulls your trigger?”
Laurel, who was never at a loss for words, sure was this time as she sent a bemused glance around the room. But that only gave his fantasy machine time to get to work on picturing her in the bodysuit.
Long legs, slim hips, that slender waist, breasts barely hidden by the floral appliqués, her long blond hair raining over him as she crawled onto their bed and slid her body up his...
Jasmine had come over to pluck the bodysuit off the wall and hold it out to him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? La Perla.” She turned to Laurel. “You would look fantastic in this.”
“Me?”
Okay. She definitely hadn’t heard Jasmine back by the escalators when the salesclerk had assumed that they’d be shopping for their wedding.
“Yes, you,” Jasmine said, starting to walk toward Laurel with the lingerie outstretched, as if sizing her. “And charcoal works very well with your coloring.”
For a moment, it seemed as if Laurel was picturing herself in the lingerie, her gaze going that dreamy shade he’d seen before whenever she talked about flying.
But then she held up her hands. “Whoa, wait. Did you say...? No. We’re not getting married.”
The expression she wore was so incredulous that she didn’t even have to say I’m never getting married. Are you kidding?
“I mean,” she continued, “there’s a wedding, but...”
As she looked to Sawyer for an assist, he just grinned.
But then he took pity on her. “What she means, Jasmine, is that we’re shopping for someone else, and maybe we should concentrate on resort wear or something like that.”
Jasmine put a hand to her chest, contrite. “I’m so sorry. I thought...”
Her attitude seemed to change in a heartbeat, from embarrassed to intrigued, and she ran a gaze over Sawyer.
Laurel certainly caught onto that, and he thought he saw her roll her eyes before she turned toward the exit and went outside.
Good God, did she think that he was going to hit on another woman while he was out with her? Sure, this wasn’t an official date, but her slight opinion of him stung.
He got out his wallet and took out several hundred-dollar bills. He also fetched a generic business card with his personal assistant’s information on it. Mrs. Deaver was in Atlanta, but even though Sawyer hadn’t been in the office for a while, he still used her services.
“You estimated her size, right?” he asked, nodding toward the door where Laurel had disappeared.
Jasmine went back to being all business again. “Yes, Mr. Fortune.”
“Then I’d like you to pick out a cocktail dress for her, with matching shoes, accessories, the works. My assistant will give you an address for the delivery.”
Jasmine must’ve realized that even if there wasn’t a wedding going on with him and Laurel, that didn’t mean nothing was going on.
“Certainly, Mr. Fortune. I’ll take care of this right away.”
“Thanks. I’ll have my assistant work with you on those wedding gifts, too.” He’d given her enough money for a generous tip, as well.
One more thing, though.
“And that?” He gestured to the bodysuit she was still holding. “Send it with the cocktail dress, would you?”
He wanted Laurel to not only be prepared for that party tomorrow evening...he wanted her to be ready for anything.
If the chemistry between them was any indication, he doubted they’d be stopping at a kiss tonight.
* * *
Laurel had busied herself in the women’s sportswear section while Sawyer did whatever he was doing with Jasmine.
Was he putting the moves on her? Taking a moment to multitask as he kept one woman out here and another in the lingerie boutique?
She whipped through some bathing suit wraps, the hangers clacking over the bar. Why should she care what he did with Jasmine? It wasn’t as if she and Sawyer were on a date.
So why was she jealous?
She stopped in the middle of a hanger swipe. Yikes. She was jealous. The whole time, while she’d been keeping an eye on Jasmine, seeing how the woman would sneak a glance at Sawyer and smile to herself, she’d been burning up inside.
But what girl wouldn’t? He was gorgeous and charming and...
Halting midlist, Laurel told herself to chill out. No need to get emotional when emotions were the last thing that applied to her and Sawyer.
Casual, she repeated. No attachments. Just fun.
When he came out of the lingerie boutique, he spotted her, his blue eyes lighting up. She hadn’t expected that, and it felt like a tiny elevator had rushed up from her belly to her chest, carrying all sorts of baggage.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said, coming to stand next to her.
She breathed in the scent of leather. He always smelled so good.
“Did you finish your business with Jasmine?” she asked, trying for an offhanded tone.
Fail.
He chuckled, resting his fingertips on her upper arm. The patch of skin where he connected to her pulsed.
“I was making a few arrangements,” he said. “That’s all. Now that you gave me that idea for the wedding gifts, I’m off and running.”
She moved away from the clothing, walking through the other racks. “All right, then. Looks like we’re done here.”
“Were you embarrassed?” he asked, stopping her. “When Jasmine assumed that we were getting married, you seemed like it. I’m sorry if that’s the case.”
What could she say? That for a dizzy moment, she’d seen how Sawyer had looked at her, as if imagining her in that bodysuit? That her stomach had twisted and her breath had been cut short?
That she’d started imagining what it might be like, in that lingerie, in a dim room, with him looking at her the exact same way...?
She shrugged off his apology, as well as the encroaching fantasy.
“I wasn’t embarrassed,” she said.
He didn’t argue with her, even if she suspected that he knew she’d gotten flustered.
When they came to the garage, they had the valet retrieve the Jag, and before Sawyer took off, he turned to her.
“You hungry yet?”
She was. Then again, she always had an appetite. “I could do with some food.”
“Great.” He got out his phone, texted something, then returned the device to his shirt pocket.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “I’m afraid I’m only dressed nicely enough for fast food.”
“This is for your birthday, Laur. Trust me.”
He wheeled the Jag out of the parking structure, and it wasn’t too much later that they arrived downtown at the River Walk, which featured a bank of shops, restaurants and bars that lined the water.
As they strolled down the walkway, he put his hand at the small of her back to guide her under the trees and evening-shaded lamps toward a restaurant on the water.
At the feel of him, she slowed down, and it wasn’t only because her nerve endings were sparking. The restaurant looked fancy, with a waterfall splashing outside.
“This is too nice, Sawyer. I’m not—”
“Dressed for it. Don’t worry—you always look amazing.”
She glanced at him, and she could see that he wasn’t just giving her a line. There was something about his gaze, an intensity, that made her glance away and vibrate that much more.
They entered the restaurant, which was lit through and through by reflections from the pools around the room—waves of light on the ceiling, sleek aquariums near the booths and tables, angelic fish with fragile fins swimming in the water.
This was damned romantic.
“Sawyer...”
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the hand and following the maître d’ as he headed toward an elevator, which took them upstairs.
All the while, Sawyer held her hand. And she didn’t remove it, liking the feel of his f
ingers wrapped over hers.
Warm all over, hormones coming alive...
The friends-with-benefits stage was really starting, was it?
They ended up in a private dining room that overlooked the River Walk’s paths and the water. A wall-sized tank featured lionfish, giving the room an under-the-sea atmosphere.
The maître d’ left menus and a wine list with them, then announced that their waiter would be there soon.
Laurel pointed at Sawyer. “You texted them to open the private dining room.”
“Anything for the birthday girl.”
“You barely know me, and already you’ve given me too much.”
“What? A dinner?” Sawyer looked at the menu as if to ignore her comment, but that devilish smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “You’re not used to expecting what you deserve, Laur.”
Her? She thought about that while Sawyer passed her the wine list, as if she deserved any vintage on it.
All her life, she hadn’t ever expected to deserve anything, and he was making her think she might’ve been wrong about that.
She looked at the wine list, almost sucking in her breath at the prices. But she’d had a lot of wine in her time, in a lot of places. After she’d finished active duty in Afghanistan, she’d done a bit of traveling, deciding to live near Tanner and his family, traveling some more, then laying her flight bag down in Red Rock.
So she picked a dry white Côtes du Rhône blend from eastern France that wasn’t too expensive, but not cheap, either.
The waiter came to the table, greeting them, asking if they cared for wine or a cocktail.
Sawyer nodded to her, giving her leave to order whatever she wanted.
She gave their waiter her choice, and he approved.
“Wonderful with the oysters with chorizo,” the waiter said. “May I suggest the hors d’asparagus to start off?”
They agreed with the waiter on his recommendation, and he left them to the blue-lit room and the darkened sky outside the window.
“Just look at this place,” she said. “You’ve got good taste.”
“Good to hear that. I think you’re not so easily impressed. You’ve experienced a lot.”
“Not really.” Besides, she was impressed with him. He was turning out to be a gentleman. That wouldn’t matter in the end, after their benefits ran out, but she could appreciate what he brought to the table now.
“And you call me prepared,” she said. “Texting was a good trick.”
“I’ve been here more than a few times, and I know what the restaurant has to offer.”
“More than a few times, huh? With how many women?”
It’d come out unchecked, but she’d been wondering, hadn’t she? Why not ask?
Sawyer leaned back in his chair, entertained. “So you are curious.”
“Just as curious as you probably are about me.”
Ooh—he obviously liked that answer. She could tell by his wry grin.
“All right,” he said. “I’ve brought at least five women here, but with all those damned Fortune weddings going on, Texas has been like a second home to me. I’ve had time for more than a few dates.”
“And not one of them stuck?” she asked. “You didn’t bring any of those women here a second time?”
He shook his head.
“Really?” she asked, softer now. “You’ve never had anyone who...lasted?”
“No. But that’s okay. You know how I feel about the whole lasting thing.”
“Yes, I do.”
A pause dragged by, and thank God for their waiter, because that’s when he came with the wine.
After he’d poured it and left the bottle in an ice bucket, Laurel got the feeling Sawyer was about to ask about all the men she’d brought to the places she’d enjoyed.
And...yup.
“You’ve been in love,” he said. “I can tell by the way you’re trying so hard not to talk about it.”
There was no getting around this, so she did one of two things that she always did whenever she had to talk about her dad or anything painful. And she had the feeling that Sawyer wouldn’t let her change the subject this time.
So she only shrugged, acting as if Steve didn’t matter.
“I was in love once,” she said. “But I’m afraid my story isn’t all that interesting.”
“Try me.”
He was watching her with such intensity that she almost lost every word that was bunched in her throat, but she cleared it, recovering.
“I got to know a guy through mutual friends and we developed a relationship online,” she said. “Steve Lucas. He was a private pilot, and we had a lot in common. We emailed each other every day, and we met each other whenever I was in the U.S. I’d always been too busy to have anyone in my life, and I’m afraid I was really naive about love.”
“What did he do to you?”
Laurel wrestled with telling him. She didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her, most of all Sawyer. But he’d been honest with her, and she respected that enough to return the favor.
“We’d been dating for a while—months—but to me it seemed like forever. I trusted him as much as I would my brothers. Or my best friend, who, by the way, gave him her thumbs-up, since Steve knew her husband from work. So when he suggested that we merge our bank accounts and then move in together—he said he’d come and be with me wherever I was—I didn’t think much of it. I was going to marry him, even after I’d seen what my dad did to my mom.”
“You loved him that much.”
“I did.”
Sawyer looked down, as if he knew what was coming.
She kept her voice level, removed. “So we did the joint bank accounts and about a week later, he and my money were gone.”
Sawyer shook his head. “I’m sorry, Laur.”
“You’re sorry?” She laughed, just to make it seem like it was nothing. “I was the dumb one. I should’ve learned from my mother’s experiences. Instead I had to learn from my own.”
“Sadder but wiser,” he said softly, but there was no pity there, just an understanding. “Did he ever get caught?”
“Not because of me. Before I could press charges, someone else put the hammer down on him—an ex-girlfriend. I never knew about her but, evidently, all those months, she’d had the law collecting enough evidence to finally sting him. It was good timing, but it didn’t make me feel any better.”
Sawyer was giving her one of those long glances again, and she felt as if he was trying to see past the front she always put up.
And he was succeeding moment by moment, winding his way into her.
But that couldn’t happen, and she looked away, lifting her wineglass and drinking, then smiling at him as if the conversation had never occurred.
She wasn’t sure if he felt thwarted or not, because he merely picked up his wine, as well.
“Even after everything,” he said, “you still came out a winner.”
Yes, she had.
She just wasn’t sure what she’d won yet.
* * *
Sawyer was sure that dinner had been terrific, but he couldn’t actually remember tasting much of it, mostly because, for the first time with a woman, he’d been too absorbed with Laurel to notice anything else.
It was just that she brought new angles to every course, what with her worldly knowledge of different cultures.
She was more than fascinating. She was downright compelling, luring him with her spirit and her strength.
But was she so attractive to him because she embodied the independence he was looking for outside of the Fortune offices?
Or because of a reason he still wasn’t sure about yet?
He drove her home, following the directions she’d provided to the modest side of town, where the apartments were well-kept brick affairs with manicured lawns. After he pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine, he turned to her, moonlight silvering her hair to an even lighter shade. His pulse went weak, as if floating in him.
“These are nice,” he said, motioning toward the apartments.
“The ex-boyfriend didn’t destroy my finances altogether.”
“Do me a favor and don’t mention him again,” he said. “All I want to do is wrap my hands around that ass’s throat.”
She grinned. “Don’t let him get to you. I make decent money now, thanks to Tanner. He helped me get back on my feet with a loan, and I’ve just about paid him off. Things are good.”
He wanted to tell her that life could be even better. If she ever wanted money, he’d give it to her. But that smacked of what he was trying to escape in the first place with women. And Laurel wasn’t like the others, because if he offered, she’d no doubt consider it a slap in the face.
“Well,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He wanted to kiss her, and she had to know it. Maybe she even wanted it just as badly.
When they locked gazes, he could see in her eyes that she did, and his pulse thudded through him.
He leaned over an inch, and she did, too.
Just a bit more, as she closed her eyes...
A dog barked from a path nearby and they drew away from each other. She laughed, but he didn’t.
“I really had a great day,” she said, back-to-normal Laurel, whom he suspected got embarrassed more easily than she would admit.
She opened the car door.
“Whoa,” he said, getting out and circling behind the Jag. “That’s my job.”
She inclined her head, waiting for him until he’d opened her door all the way. He took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
Again, they didn’t make a move to end the night. Just like they’d done on the dance floor on their first meeting, he kept holding her fingers in his. But now, he whisked a thumb over hers, and she took in a breath.
And now, unlike at the picnic, he didn’t stop to ask if she would allow him the pleasure.
He slid his hand to the back of her neck, her gaze going wide and soft.
“The day doesn’t have to end yet, Laurel,” he said, just before he lowered his mouth to hers.
Chapter Five
It was as if Laurel, who’d always believed so devoutly in structure, didn’t have any of it as Sawyer’s mouth pressed down on hers.
A CHANGE OF FORTUNE Page 6
