Stormking Road (Firefly Hollow series Book 6)

by T. L. Haddix

  She glanced down at her feet for a moment. “Okay. You can change your mind, though, if you decide you don’t want me along.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her lips curved in a half smile. “Go watch some fireworks, Boss.”

  Sawyer winked at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He didn’t know when he’d looked more forward to a conference. And the reasons why? Not something he had any intention of examining too closely. Not even on a bet.

  “Do you think they’ve caught on?” Rachel asked Amelia.

  “No. Well, not really. I don’t think Sawyer has, but Sydney’s a little suspicious. Em?”

  Emma nodded, resting back against Archer. “I’m not sure that she’s suspicious so much as she’s confused we’re being so encouraging.”

  “Grandpa and Grandma sent them on a walk down to my house the other night,” Noah said. He stretched his legs out in front of him. “I’m glad they’ve moved on to trying to matchmake for her. That means they’re leaving me alone.”

  Molly came up behind him and tackled him, knocking him to the ground before scampering away with a laugh. She hurried around to the other side of the group, hands on her hips as she waited for Noah to get up. “Come on, chicken. Let’s run.”

  He groaned and flopped back on the ground. “No. I’m tired. Go harass someone else.”

  “Spoilsport. What are you all talking about?” she asked, taking a seat on the blanket next to Amelia.

  “Sawyer and Sydney,” Amelia answered. She reached out and pushed a stray curl back off Molly’s forehead. “But that’s need-to-know only.”

  “You should have seen the way they were looking at each other last Friday. If I’d known he was at her house that night, I never would have gone.”

  Archer frowned. “He was at her house? How late?”

  “Nine thirty? Ten?” Molly answered.

  “He drove her home from the restaurant. I had an emergency I had to take care of,” Danny put in. “I guess he stayed for coffee, from what Sydney said, but that’s all it was.”

  “Hmmm. I’m not sure about this plan of ours,” Archer said.

  Emma patted his leg. “You’re her father. Of course you’re not sure about it.”

  “I have reservations, too,” Danny said. “He’s a good man, but he’s not a permanent-setup kind of guy. And Sydney’s not into flings.”

  “They hum when they’re together,” Amelia said softly. “If she could get past his defenses, I think they’d make each other very happy. From what I’ve seen, they could even be soul mates.”

  Rachel sighed. “Yeah, but that’s the thing—she has to break down that stupid wall he’s built around himself. It’s a strong wall, too. He’s had twenty-some years to perfect it.”

  The group was quiet for a couple of minutes, exchanging somber looks.

  “Should we back off?” Rachel finally asked.

  “No. Every instinct I have is yelling at me that they need to take this attraction and run with it,” Amelia said. “Sydney keeps him on his toes, and he brings out that quirky happiness she hasn’t had for years now. He enjoys baiting her and vice versa. Maybe if they do end up dating, if we show them support, he’ll warm up to the idea.”

  “I hope you’re right, Pip,” Archer said, calling her by the nickname she’d had since childhood. “Because if this goes badly?”

  “I know. I do know that, Archer. But I think we have to try for both their sakes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  All week, Sydney kept expecting Sawyer to walk up to her desk and tell her he’d changed his mind about her going with him or that he’d just been kidding. But he didn’t.

  “I’d like to leave here about noon tomorrow, head down. That way we’ll miss the rush-hour traffic in Knoxville,” he told her Wednesday afternoon. “Is that okay?”

  “That’s fine. Which vehicle are we taking?”

  “I figured we’d just take my truck.”

  She bit her lip. “Um, I can’t drive a stick. So if we got down there and I needed to drive us anywhere… We can take my car. It’s really comfortable on long trips.”

  Sawyer nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure. I can just leave the truck here.”

  “Or you can bring it to my house and park it. It should be safer there, and between that and the lights on timers inside, people will think someone’s home.”

  “That’s a plan, then.”

  They closed up shop Thursday just before noon and headed to Sydney’s house. She’d packed a lunch cooler, and she grabbed that and one of her two bags while he parked the truck.

  Sawyer met her at the door. “Here, let me have those.”

  “Thanks. Trunk’s unlocked, keys are in it,” she said, going back to do one last look through the house. When she came out, the second bag was gone. Sawyer was leaned up against the bumper of the car, thumbing through his phone. He had on dark sunglasses, a close-fitting red polo shirt, and a pair of jeans so old they were soft. Between the way he looked and how good he smelled, she might just turn into a blathering idiot before they crossed the state line.

  “Ready?” he asked. “I got your other bag.”

  “As ready as I’m going to be. Do you want to drive or do you want me to?”

  “Entirely up to you,” he said.

  She handed him her keys. “Then I’ll plan to kick back and relax for this leg of the trip.” The truth was she loved watching him drive. When he’d driven her home the other night, the skill with which he’d handled the wheel had enthralled her. It was an utterly ridiculous aspect of the man to be attracted to, but there it was. Something about the way he used his hands on the steering wheel, the gearshift… It made her wonder just how skillful his hands would be set to other tasks.

  For the first hour of the drive, they made small talk about work, going over current or upcoming projects. When they reached London, he suggested they stop at a popular state park for lunch.

  “Okay. We used to go there with Aunt Pip and Logan and their kids, Nonny and Uncle Eli, the whole crew.”

  “You must miss them, Nonny and Eli.”

  Her smile was sad. “Every day. The ache never really disappears. I know they’re better off, especially Nonny, but that doesn’t stop the hurt.”

  “I don’t even want to think about what it’ll be like when something happens to Nan,” he told her quietly. “She’s healthy, she’s spry, but she’s also eighty-two.”

  “What happened to your grandfather?” Sydney asked as they took the exit that would get them to the park.

  “He left when my mom was a kid. Died out in Texas when she was a teenager. Nan always said good riddance, but she never remarried, never even dated until she retired and moved to Florida.”

  “What did she do before she retired?”

  “She was a school cook.”

  Sydney studied him. “She seems like she’s a pistol from the few times I’ve spoken with her. You know we’re fast becoming friends. We talk at least once a week now.”

  “I know. She says the same thing about you. If the two of you ever meet… God help us all.” His grin was cheeky, relaxed, and it made Sydney laugh.

  “What do your parents do?”

  “You’re full of questions today.”

  “And you’re evading again.”

  “Ha! I’m not. I’m… stalling.”

  She shoved him lightly, barely budging him. “Stinker.”

  He didn’t answer her question until they were walking down a path to one of the picnic shelters at the park.

  “My dad’s the son of a steel-mill owner. The old man sold it when things started going south in the industry, and Dad took over running the rest of his holdings. Mom’s a housewife.”

  She slowed down, taking in the revelatio
n that he came from wealth. “So when he got your mom pregnant…”

  “It was quite a scandal,” Sawyer admitted. “To say Nan wasn’t happy is an understatement. She knew Mom wasn’t completely innocent. She’s very headstrong, my mother. But Dad was old enough to know better. And Nan made sure he took care of his responsibilities. She had the good sense not to push for them to get married right out of the gate.”

  Sydney couldn’t believe he felt as casually about his parents as he tried to make out. “You said you have brothers?”

  “Two. Frank and Matt. One’s a lawyer, and the other’s a dentist. Five nieces and nephews between them.”

  “Do you ever see them?” They reached an unoccupied table. She started setting up the food, handing him containers.

  “Every now and then. Once every year or so. It’s better for all of us if we don’t have too close an association, though things are a lot better now than they were in the past.”

  “What about Nan?”

  “They all fly down every year and see her. That’s enough for her, too.”

  “It sounds like a difficult relationship.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is. When I was younger, I tried to fix things. I finally realized there wasn’t anything to put back together. There never had been. It’d be like if your biological father was still in the picture and wasn’t an asshole. You might have a relationship with him, but there’s no way you could ever bring him into the Campbell-Gibson world. It would be a disaster waiting to happen. I’m not part of their world, and they’re not part of mine.”

  She could only imagine. “Then you’re lucky to have what you do.”

  They made a concerted effort after that to keep the conversation light, and the trip went by faster than Sydney expected it to. Before she knew it, they were in Gatlinburg, following the GPS’s directions to their hotel. Instead of going downtown, though, they ended up taking a winding road to a remote group of cabins.

  “This is… not what I was expecting,” Sydney said as Sawyer brought the car to a stop in front of the small cabin designated “office.” “I thought you had a suite booked.”

  “So did I. Lee made the reservation.” Sawyer stared at the structure, then turned to her. “Um. Okay. The address matches what’s on the paper he gave me.”

  “Well, let’s go in and see if this is it.”

  Sure enough, it was. “You’re in the third cabin down, which is the two-bedroom unit,” the older lady behind the desk told them. She detailed some of the amenities. “Someone’s here twenty-four hours in case you need anything. You’ll be checking out Sunday, right?”

  “That’s the plan,” Sawyer said.

  When they walked in the front door of the cabin, Sydney whistled. The view was breathtaking. The living room was on the opposite side of the house, the entire back wall comprised of two-story windows that showed off the incredible view of the forest beyond.

  “Wow. This is spectacular,” she said. “Let’s see what the bedrooms are like.” She dropped her bag and dashed for the nearest door, which led into the master suite. Also on the backside of the house, it was a large room, furnished with a king-sized bed and a…

  “Is that a heart-shaped Jacuzzi?” she squeaked. “Oh, my gosh!”

  “Are you serious?” Sawyer groaned from the doorway. “What is this, a honeymoon cabin?”

  Sydney kicked her shoes off and got in the empty red tub, laughing. “This is unreal. I brought a bathing suit since I thought we were going to be staying at a hotel. We’ll have to try this out.” She lifted her legs, stretching, pretending to bathe. “You know you want to.”

  He put his hands on his hips and glowered at her. “No.”

  “Oh, come on. Are you chicken?”

  “I am not getting in that tub.”

  She groaned. “You’re too young to be so stodgy.”

  “Stodgy? I know you didn’t just call me stodgy,” he drawled, walking slowly across the room.

  She hadn’t meant to but clearly she’d issued a challenge. “Um, well… maybe?”

  Sawyer leaned down, placing his hands on the edge of the tub. “You’d better watch yourself, Missy.”

  She raised up until her face was just a few inches from his. “Or what?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingering there for what felt like days. “Let’s see what else this place has to offer.” He straightened, wicked satisfaction written all over his face when she gasped, and sauntered from the room. “I want to see this eighteen-foot-tall shower tower.”

  She collapsed back into the tub with a muted groan. “Sadist.”

  “I heard that.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. It was either that or cry from frustration, and she wasn’t quite to that point. Yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  If working with Sydney day in and day out without revealing his growing attraction to her was difficult, sleeping twenty feet away from her, separated by a single wall, was torture. Sawyer had dithered all week on whether he wanted to go through with the conference invitation or not, but every time he started to back out, something happened that stopped him.

  So here he was, staring at the vaulted ceiling in the cabin’s honeymoon suite, imagining what might happen if he were to go knock on Sydney’s door and ask to share her bed.

  “You’re too old for this,” he told himself, glancing down at the tented sheet with a wry grimace. A dozen offers in his inbox every day for this little blue pill or that little flame-logo’d ED helper reminded him he wasn’t getting any younger. But since Sydney had started working for him? Achieving and maintaining an erection hadn’t been a problem. No, getting the damned things to go away was the obstacle Sawyer was up against. He felt like a teenager again, and not in a good way.

  “It could be worse. You might not have it when you need it,” he mused. That would be a disaster, true. But this constant state of half or full arousal he was in? It was eroding his self-control and his judgment. He’d almost kissed her twice now. If he did and she returned his interest? There was no doubt in his mind they’d end up in bed.

  At home, he’d go for a swim or walk around his property or simply take care of the problem with his hand. God knew he’d gotten plenty practice with that method in recent weeks. But that wasn’t an option, not being so close to Sydney here and all. It felt too lecherous, too disrespectful.

  “Maybe some fresh air will help.” Throwing the covers back, he got up and padded to the door that led out onto the balcony. The nighttime world was quiet, warm, and the rising full moon illuminated the small yard and balcony with a silver glow. Bracing his hands on the rail, Sawyer lifted his head and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

  He’d just started to get a handle on his arousal when he heard a door open. Every muscle in his body tensed as soft footsteps came up beside him, stopping a few feet away.

  “You okay?” Sydney’s voice was soft. The breeze lifted the scent of her perfume to his nose as though held up by taunting hands.

  It was all he could do not to curse. “Yeah. Just having some trouble sleeping, that’s all.”

  “So am I. New bed and all that, I guess. Plus I’m a little nervous about tomorrow.”

  “I promise you there’s no need to be.” He looked at her finally, his fears confirmed. She was gazing out into the yard, arms crossed. Hair down, tumbling around her shoulders in silky waves. Sleeveless, soft-looking nightgown that plunged to her navel and barely covered her shapely ass. Yep. For all the world, she looked like a woman who’d just crawled out of a man’s bed. When she pushed her hair back, pulling it over her opposite shoulder to get it out of the way and then licked her lips, Sawyer broke.

  “You shouldn’t be out here.”

  Sydney blinked up at him, startled. “Why not? Oh, my gosh. You wanted to be alone. I�
��m so sorry.” She turned to go back in, jumping a bit when he touched her arm with his hand. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “You’re so damned soft,” he marveled, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin just above her elbow.

  “W…what?”

  “This is a bad idea,” he whispered, stepping closer to her. “A very bad idea. You should go inside.”

  Sydney didn’t move. Instead, she stared up at him, her soft lips parting on a puff of air. “I’d prefer to stay here.”

  Sawyer couldn’t stand it another minute. Sliding his hand into her hair, he tipped her face up and kissed her.

  He came awake with a jolt, sucking in lungfuls of air as he sat up in bed. Heart pounding, he was covered in sweat from head to toe. Cursing under his breath, he called himself everything except a milk cow, and for good measure, he cursed the convention, too. Kicking off the covers, he got up, furious with his frustration. The damned erection that stood straight out from his body didn’t help any.

  “Fuck this,” he muttered, heading for the bathroom. He had to have a cold shower, the colder the better. And if the noise woke Sydney up? Too damned bad. After all, it was partly her fault he was wide awake and horny as hell at two a.m. It was only fair if she slept poorly, too.

  When his phone alarm went off at six thirty, Sawyer came close to throwing it across the room. He’d finally managed to get to sleep around three after nearly freezing himself to death in the shower. Instead of committing mayhem against the hapless device, he dragged himself up and to the bathroom.

  Sydney was in the kitchen when he came out of the bedroom. “Morning,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “I’ve got toast, fruit, and eggs if you want them.” She slid him a cup of coffee to the end of the kitchen island. “And the nectar of the gods, obviously.”

  “Thanks.”