by T. L. Haddix
She eyed him as she poured her own cup. “You sleep okay?”
“Well enough,” he hedged, taking a sip of coffee. “You?”
“Mm-hmmm. So what’s on the schedule for today?” She came around the counter and took a seat in the breakfast nook. Somewhat reluctantly, Sawyer joined her with his own plate. He did a double take when he saw what she was eating.
“Peanut butter toast?”
She stopped, a slice halfway between her plate and her mouth. “Yeah. And?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a problem with peanut butter toast?”
“No. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone over the age of twelve eat it.”
Oh, he shouldn’t have said that. He knew better as soon as the words came out of his mouth. But hell if he could drag them back or apologize.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” she grumbled, taking a large bite of toast and chewing it noisily, her eyes challenging him to say another word about her breakfast choice. “Or are you normally so damned cheerful when you first get up?”
Sawyer didn’t answer, instead pulling a sheet of paper from a folder in his briefcase. “Here’s the itinerary. Let me know if anything looks interesting, and I’ll see about getting you in.”
She read through the schedule. “Which ones are you going to?”
He pointed to the talks. “These three. And there’s a discussion panel late this afternoon. You should plan on hitting that one.”
“Okay. Maybe my boss will have enough coffee in his system by then that he’s bearable.”
Sawyer sighed and sat back, crossing his arms. “Funny.”
“True story. We’re in my car, remember. I can leave you here if you aren’t nice to me.” She took her plate to the kitchen and rinsed it off. “What time are we leaving?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Give me five minutes. I’m guessing paper and pens would be a good idea to take notes with?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay.” She left without a backward glance.
Sawyer rubbed his hands over his face. “Asshole.”
He topped off his coffee and walked outside to the balcony to finish it off. The mountain air was cool, fog still lifting through the trees, and the calls of morning birds surrounded the cabin. Even though the Smokies were part of the same mountain chain that ran through Eastern Kentucky, they were significantly higher and had a different feel.
As in his dream the night before, Sydney came outside. Instead of the sexy nightgown he’d imagined, though, she was wearing a pretty blue blouse and khaki dress cargo pants. Smartly, she’d chosen comfortable, walking-friendly shoes. The hair that he itched to play with was neatly tucked away into a twist. And she didn’t come all the way to the edge of the balcony but instead stopped just outside the door.
“Ready?”
“Sure. Isn’t this view great?” Maybe he could offer a truce without actually having to apologize.
“Lovely, I’m sure.” Her smile was tense as she looked down in the steep ravine, then away. “I’ll be inside.” She backed up, not turning her back on him until she was a few feet inside the house.
Frowning, Sawyer followed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just don’t much like heights.” And she did look fine now that she was inside.
Sawyer glanced back over his shoulder. “This isn’t much different from how the land lays at your grandparents’ farm.”
She quirked an eyebrow upward. “Not much different? It’s a hundred times different. Way steeper and a lot farther to the bottom.”
“How long have you been afraid of heights?” he asked as they started the drive down to Gatlinburg proper. He noticed then how she kept her eyes averted from the hill, which fell away from the road on her side of the car.
“Always.” She chuckled nervously. “Daddy took me to Natural Bridge when I was five. He’d just lost his job at the Ford place and was getting ready to start where he is now, and he took a few days off in between. This was before he and Mom were married. Anyhow, he was so excited to show me the bridge, and all I could think about once we got up there was how big that hole was underneath it. He had to carry me down to the trail. I’ve not improved much since, no matter how hard I try.”
Sawyer whistled. “That’s tough. Heights don’t bother me one bit. Being underground? That’s a different story.”
“I don’t mind that so much. At least I can’t fall if I’m in a hole.”
Once they got to the convention hall and found a parking spot, Sawyer led her toward the registration table. They were stopped several times by people he knew.
“Is tomorrow the first time you’ve given one of the talks?” she asked as they stood in line to get their badges.
“I’ve sat in on a panel a few times.”
“Are you nervous?”
He shrugged. “Not enough to cause a problem.”
Since the conference catered to both law enforcement and private investigators, some of the talks covered bridging the gap between the two areas. Sawyer’s session would discuss how to transition out of law enforcement and into the private sector.
“Sawyer Evans! You son of a buck, I was wondering when you’d show up!” A balding man in a white button-down dress shirt was hurrying across the concourse to them.
“Gene, you bastard, how are you?” Sawyer greeted him, grinning wide. “Looks like it’s hopping busy this year.”
“It is. Attendance is up ten percent over last year. Who’s this pretty lady?”
“Sydney Gibson, this is Gene Curry. Gene’s the event coordinator. Sydney’s my assistant. Since Lee had to stay and do court, she decided to tag along.”
Sydney shook the man’s proffered hand. “‘Decided to tag along’ translates into ‘was brought to protect him from badge bunnies.’ How do you do?”
Sawyer glowered at her, but she smiled sunnily, ignoring his dark look.
Gene laughed, looking from Sydney to him and back. “It is a real pleasure to meet you. How long have you been working for this donkey’s ass?”
“About a month now, but I’ve known him for decades. He’s friends with my family.”
“Are you keeping him in line?” Gene asked, lowering his voice, a glint of humor in his eyes.
“I’m trying, but he’s a bit stubborn,” she said, matching his tone. “You may have noticed that.”
Gene chuckled, slapping Sawyer on the shoulder. “I think it’s been mentioned once or twice. She’s got you pegged, doesn’t she?”
“Hmmm, sure. I need a favor,” Sawyer said, interrupting their glee. “She doesn’t have a ticket. Think you can pull some strings for me?”
In answer, Gene reached into one of the pockets on his cargo pants and pulled out a pass. He handed it to Sydney. “That should do the trick. Just tell the ladies up here at the head of the line that I gave it to you. I’d better get back at it—you know how it is, a thousand and one things to do right now. We’ll catch up later. Maybe dinner tonight? The usual place?”
“Sounds like fun. Just call me—you still have my number?” Sawyer asked.
“Yep. See you in a bit. Ma’am, nice to meet you.” He tipped an invisible hat to Sydney and was gone.
“How long have you been coming to these things?” she asked, looking after Gene.
“Eight years? Ten? Something like that.” A glimpse of a tall redhead walking through the crowd toward them caught his eye, and Sawyer groaned. “Oh, shit. This is just perfect.”
“What?” Sydney stood on her tiptoes. “Who is it?”
“Grabby Charlene. Too late to hide. She sees me. Damn.” He was in no mood to deal with the woman, whose entire face had lit up when she’d seen him. “I’d hoped she
’d forgotten about me, or at the least, that she’d be too embarrassed to approach me.”
“You really don’t want her attention?”
Dead serious, he answered. “I really don’t. Never did. Never will.”
Sydney slipped her hand around his. “You’ll owe me big time for this. Look at me.”
When he did, she lifted her hand to her mouth and licked her thumb, then reached up and blotted at a spot next to his mouth on the opposite side of his face from where Charlene was approaching.
“How embarrassing is that?” she asked, trilling out a laugh. “My shade doesn’t really work for you. Oh, hello.”
Charlene, her smile dimmer than before, came to a stop beside them. “Hello. Sawyer. Who’s your friend?”
He put his arm around Sydney’s shoulders, playing along. “This is Sydney. She’s my… assistant. Syd, this is Charlene. I’m sorry, what was your last name again?”
“Richards. I believe we spoke last week when I called Sawyer’s office.” She took in Sydney’s appearance head-to-toe in a fast assessment. “I didn’t know you two were involved, though.”
“It isn’t something we advertise,” Sydney explained, leaning into Sawyer’s side. “At least, we haven’t been. That’s going to change now that he gave me this.” She held her left hand out, displaying a large but tasteful diamond solitaire. “I’m so excited! Can you believe it?”
Sawyer pinched her side where Charlene couldn’t see him. He was really going to have to have a talk with Sydney about what he’d meant when he’d asked for a chaperone. Her perky grin as she batted her lashes at him told him she was well aware of his discomfort.
“Minx.”
“Congratulations,” Charlene said, her voice tight. “You must be so happy.”
“We are.” Thankfully, the line had moved and they were at the registration table. “We’ll see you around the conference, I guess,” Sawyer told her.
“Sure. Nice meeting you,” she said to Sydney.
Sydney didn’t say a word other than to answer the questions the ladies manning the table asked. Once they had their badges, Sawyer drew her off to the side.
“Where’d you get the ring?”
“Department store. It’s fake. It’s a nice fake, though,” she said, looking down at the jewelry. “Too much, Boss?”
Though she kept her voice light, he could tell she was a bit afraid she’d gone too far.
Sawyer shook his head. “Way over the top. You’re definitely pushing it.” But he was smiling when he spoke, and he couldn’t keep a straight face. “If word of this ‘engagement’ gets back to Hazard and your father comes after me, I’m hiding behind you.”
“You really think it will?”
He couldn’t resist any longer. He had to touch her. Raising his hand, he brushed her bangs off to the side of her face. “It might. This is a pretty small community, all things considered. And there’ll probably be at least a couple of guys here from our neck of the woods.”
“Oh.”
“Mmm, oh.”
She looked away, her cheeks heating, even as she laughed. “Where’s our first lecture?”
He jerked his head. “West wing.” They started walking. “Sorry I was such an ass this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I figured. And thank you.”
As they went into the room where the podium was set up, Sawyer let himself wonder what her family’s reaction to a real engagement would be. He couldn’t imagine they’d be pleased, that was for certain. And why he was even going down that road… The fact that the notion had even come into his mind was shocking. Shocking and potentially dangerous because being engaged to Sydney didn’t sound as appalling as he’d expected it to.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
Sydney jumped, the man’s low voice taking her by surprise as she sat in the back of the auditorium watching Sawyer’s panel take questions.
“Lee! I thought you had court.”
He took the seat beside hers. “The guy pled out, so I got sprung. Figured I had enough time to drive down here and catch some of the good stuff. How’s it going?”
“It’s fascinating. I think I have more questions now than when I first started working for Sawyer.” She showed him her notepad, which was covered with writing.
“Glad you’re enjoying it. Nice ring, by the way.” He picked up her left hand and studied the fake diamond. “Have you set a date yet?”
Sydney took her hand back from him. “You know as well as I do this isn’t real. How’d you hear about it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“My captain. He’s here. He heard it from somewhere. How’s the cabin?”
“Nice. Not the suite we were expecting.”
He shifted in his seat. “It got uncomfortable last year, staying at the hotel with the rest of the gang. I figured the privacy would be nice.”
“Mmm. So where are you staying?”
“Here at the hotel with the rest of the gang. Unless you want to let me sleep on your couch?”
She chuckled softly. “It does fold out.”
“I’d hate to interrupt the happy couple, though.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Sawyer might not appreciate my presence,” he persisted. “You think I’m joking but he’s territorial over you.”
“Well, I’m not inviting you over to share my bed. And he’s just protective. That’s all.”
“You keep telling yourself,” Lee said. “I’ll think about the offer.”
“I figured you’d be happy to partake of the festivities, no offense. Since you’re single and all.”
That statement did make him uncomfortable.
“I tend to take the same path Sawyer does about that sort of thing. Easy pick-ups and flings… I just prefer to have something deeper, have at least a little respect for the person I’m with.”
She tried to evaluate whether he was serious or not. “What about Rachel?”
Lee met her gaze head on. “What about her?”
“I guess I’m asking what your intentions are.”
He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t have any intentions other than to try to get to know her better. Not every man in uniform is looking for a notch on his gun belt, Ms. Gibson.”
“No?”
Lee shook his head. “No. Some of us are looking for a mate. Not just a body to pass the night with.”
She tipped her head to the side. “I think you mean that.”
“I do.” He took a sip of water from the bottle he carried. “That guy up there on stage? He’s looking for a mate. He just doesn’t know it. He’s been hurt too much over the years.”
Sydney turned to watch Sawyer as he fielded a question about gear. “I wish I believed that. Though I don’t expect he’d ever…” When she realized what she’d been about to admit, she could have curled up and died.
“You don’t expect he’d ever choose you?” Lee finished. “Why? Because you’re younger than him?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t. She was too embarrassed. But he persisted.
“Come on. Tell me.”
“Because even if we got past the age difference and a myriad of other things, I want kids and he’s convinced he can’t have them.”
“From what I understand, he can’t,” Lee countered.
“Not physically, no. But that’s not the only way to have a family.”
To her surprise, he smiled. “I knew I liked you for some reason. That’s exactly what I told him the other day. Adoption isn’t just for puppies and kittens, you know?” He blew out a breath. “I think if he let himself, he’d be all over you in a heartbeat. In the best kind of way,” he
hurried to reassure her when she turned wide eyes to him. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I’ll be there.”
They passed most of the rest of the lecture in silence, with Sydney lost in thought as she considered what he’d said. By the end of the session, she came away certain of two things—one, Lee was a damned nice guy. She was going to see what she could do to throw him and Rachel together, see what happened. And two, she’d never wanted someone to be right about another person’s feelings so much in her whole life. She didn’t think he was, but she couldn’t help but wish Lee knew what he was talking about.
A quick trip to the bathroom ended up being more illuminating than Sydney was expecting, and definitely resulted in her hearing more than she wanted to hear. She’d just entered the stall and was rummaging through her purse when the outside door opened, admitting two women.
“Oh, my God, did you see him? He looks even better this year than he did. You don’t know how much I was looking forward to this conference,” the first woman said.
Her friend snickered. “I saw him. Did you see his fiancée? I can’t believe he’s engaged. She had her hands all over him this morning.”
Ah, shit. She recognized that voice. It belonged to the tall redhead from the reception line. Charlene. Surely they weren’t discussing her and Sawyer?
A snort and a sigh as two stalls down the row from Sydney opened, then closed. “I could have strangled her from across the room. And do you blame her? Hell, if I were engaged to Sawyer, I’d keep him locked in a bedroom. It’s been three years and I’m still trying to find someone who knows how to do the things he did to me.”
Yep, they were. Sydney cringed.
“Any luck?” Charlene asked.
“Not much, and believe me, I’ve tried. I should have just followed him back to Kentucky back then. I was so sure I’d be able to snag him again this year. Damn it.”
“She’s awfully young. He never struck me as the cradle-robber type. Think she’s pregnant? She’s definitely not his usual type—more kitten than tiger, if you know what I mean.”
