by T. L. Haddix
“I have the whole series on DVD.”
“It’s a good series.”
They shared a smile.
“So why don’t you stock it, if you don’t mind my asking?” she said.
“What am I going to do with a pond full of fish? I won’t eat them. The lack of fish doesn’t stop me from dropping a line out there now and again. That’s what I was getting ready to do, actually.”
“Oh. I’ll go, then. Guess I’ll see you Monday?”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean it that way. You should stick around. Get some fresh air.”
Sydney bit her lip, looking toward the pond. “I don’t want to interrupt your day off.”
“You aren’t. What would you like to drink?” He listed several options.
“Tea’s fine.”
“Coming right up.”
“Um, could I use the restroom?” she asked as they stepped back inside.
“Sure. I’ll get your tea and take it outside, meet you out there.”
As she washed her hands after she was done, she considered her outfit. Dressy navy-blue shorts, a sheer floral shirt over a tank top, and flip-flops. Discreet gold jewelry at her ears and neck and very little makeup.
“I doubt there’s much chance he’ll be throwing you down on the bed, more’s the pity,” she told her reflection as she took her hair down, shaking it out before repinning it. “But at least you’re comfortable.”
She was turning into the very person she had been afraid of becoming. The love-struck assistant in lust with her boss. If she didn’t do something soon to alleviate her growing attraction to the man, she was going to embarrass herself beyond redemption.
“Asking him for a pity fuck definitely would be a bad idea, Syd. You’d end up jobless and no better off than you are now. Suck it up, girl.”
Still, as she went through the house, she couldn’t help but wonder what Sawyer’s reaction would be if she went to his bedroom and stripped down, then crawled between his sheets. Part of her regretted that she was too chicken to find out. Part of her recklessly wanted to do it. And she was afraid the reckless part would soon overwhelm her sense of caution and reason, and then where would she be?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Seducing your houseguest, who was only there to deliver a package, was not a good idea. Sawyer had to keep telling himself that as he waited for Sydney to join him on the dock. He hadn’t been able to resist inviting her to stay. And he couldn’t help but think about that promise he’d made her in Tennessee—that someday they’d have a long talk. In a private setting. Which his house most assuredly was.
God, he was in trouble.
He’d set up a second chair beside his on the wide leg of the dock that jutted out underneath the tree. The leaves and branches dipped down toward the water, providing a curtain of greenery that made the spot even more private, as well as creating a welcome shade from the hot early afternoon sun.
“It’s warm out here today,” Sydney said as she came up the dock toward him. “Feels good.”
“Yeah, it does. We’ve been lucky so far this summer that we’ve not had much heat and humidity.” He gave an inward cringe. They were talking about the weather. He hadn’t thought he’d been out of the dating game that long.
She settled in beside him and stretched her legs out, sighing. “I don’t know when I last took the time to sit down and do nothing. You may have to run me off later.”
Sawyer laughed. “Nah. I’ll just make you help me cook dinner.”
“Pfft. That’s nothing.” She dropped her phone into the chair’s cup holder and waved a hand lazily. “I could do that in my sleep.”
“Your pole is beside your chair if you want to ‘fish,’” he said.
“Maybe. You might have to show me what to do. It’s been a few years since I did this.”
For the next couple of hours, they passed the time chatting here and there, with comfortable silences falling between the conversation. When Sydney’s line jerked, she nearly jumped out of her seat from shock.
“I thought you said there weren’t any fish here.” She stood up to get a better grip on the pole, whatever was on the other end pulling hard.
“There aren’t,” Sawyer insisted, coming to his feet. “Maybe it’s a turtle.”
“Well, it’s definitely something. This is ridiculous.” She was struggling to stay on her feet.
Sawyer lunged out to help her. But before he could reach her, she was yanked forward, stumbling… and went straight over the edge of the dock. She hung in midair for an endless moment, her arms and legs flailing, before plunging straight down into the pond with a huge splash.
“Oh, shit.”
She surfaced almost immediately, her glasses half off her face, hair dripping down into her eyes. Gasping, she struggled to clear her face off as she treaded water.
“Are you okay?” Sawyer hunkered down beside her. He was doing his damnedest not to laugh, but his mind kept replaying that moment in time when she’d hung above the water. “I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Don’t you dare laugh! Oh, dear God, this water is cold. Eeeekkk!” Her screech was so loud, it echoed around the meadow. “Something touched my foot. Get me out of here!”
Through his laughter, Sawyer managed to reach down and grab her upraised hands. Giving a mighty tug, he lifted her out of the water. But once she’d found her footing, he doubled over, overtaken by mirth.
Soaked to the skin, dripping with pond water, arms held out from her sides, Sydney stood glaring at him, her mouth open with shock. “You… you jackass. This is not funny.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” he snickered. He couldn’t look at her. Every time he did, mirth hit him again. He apologized again, but he couldn’t stop laughing.
“If I thought I could push you in there, buddy, you’d get a dunking. Damn it, I lost a shoe.” She held up her remaining flip flop, gazing at it mournfully. “I haven’t had those a month.”
Sawyer finally got a handle on his amusement. “At least you didn’t drown your phone.”
She huffed out an aggravated breath and picked the device up from the chair. “There’s that. Well, this was fun. You know how to show a girl a good time, I’ll say that.” She started past him.
That sobered him up. “Wait—what? You aren’t leaving, are you? What about dinner?”
“Sawyer. Look at me. I’ll have to borrow a couple of towels to get home.”
He followed her up the dock. “I can find you something to wear. You can use my shower.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but no. I’ve done enough damage for one day. I’d hate to tempt fate.”
This was not how he’d envisioned the day and evening going. The day that had seemed so perfect turned sour, leaving him disgruntled and bereft. But he wasn’t going to beg her to stay, though, when she clearly was intent on leaving. However, that fate she’d been concerned about tempting stepped in to give him a reprieve. When she got to her car and tried to unlock the door with her key fob, it didn’t work.
“Are you kidding me?” No matter how hard she pressed the button, nothing. “At least I had the sense to leave the windows down. I’ve got a spare set in my purse. Do you mind getting it for me so I don’t drip everywhere?”
Yes, he minded. He didn’t want her to go. But he didn’t say that, just reached in and snagged the bag’s strap. “I’ll get those towels. Are you sure you don’t want to take a shower first?”
“I’m sure.”
When he got back with the towels, she was leaning against the car, talking on the phone.
“No, Daddy, I understand. No, I don’t want you to drive all the way back here. It’s not that big a deal. Just wait until he’s finished and have h
im call me. Hang on.” She covered the phone and gave Sawyer a tense smile. “Graydon took my car down to the store at the mouth of the holler Sunday, and he used my spare keys. I can’t find them, and he’s in a ballgame in Virginia.”
“Oh.” Sawyer pressed his lips together trying to stop a smile from forming. “So you’re stuck.”
“It appears that I am.”
“Guess you’ll take that shower, huh?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
He shrugged, grinning. “Maybe a little.”
She went back to the call, shaking her head. “Are you still there? Yeah, I’m okay. No, I told you, I’m at a friend’s house. I promise you it isn’t a big deal. Just have the critter call me when he’s off the field. Okay, love you.”
“I’d offer to give you a ride home,” Sawyer said, turning to look at the garage, “but you parked behind me.”
“Of course I did,” she said with a tired laugh. “And there’s no room for you to back out and turn. Lovely.”
“You’re going to give me a complex. Do you want to leave that badly?”
“No, it isn’t that. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it that way. I feel like I’m imposing on your day off.”
Sawyer stepped closer to her, pushing her glasses up on her nose with a gentle finger. “You aren’t. It’s nice to have company. Now come on, let’s get you in the shower and changed. Do you want to wash your clothes?”
She glanced down at herself. “If you don’t mind. I’d at least like to rinse them out. I can probably do that in the tub or sink. I don’t want to get your washer dirty.”
“Okay. Come with me.” He led her in the house to the bedroom, directing her into the bathroom. “I’ll get you something to wear. Some running shorts and an Evans Investigations promotional T-shirt should do it. What size shirt do you want?”
“Large, please. Do you have a tank top I could wear underneath?”
He realized she was concerned about her breasts when she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He thought about telling her it was all right, that he wouldn’t look, but he could neither keep that promise nor embarrass her by saying it. Instead, he pretended ignorance as he got the clothing.
“Here you go. Shampoo and soap are in the shower, towels are here,” he said, placing them on the counter. “Yell if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
He headed to the kitchen while she got cleaned up, finally allowing his excitement to come through. Sydney’s reluctance to stay tempered that somewhat, but if she really was only concerned about putting him out, he figured he could allay those fears with a little effort, and he knew just where to start. He opened a cabinet and pulled down one of the jars of marinara he’d bartered from Noah a couple of weeks earlier. There was a bottle of nice red wine in the small wine cellar cabinet in the back of his pantry that would pair up perfectly with the sauce. Sawyer’d been looking for an excuse to open it, and having Sydney stay for dinner would suit nicely.
As he built the dinner menu in his head, he tapped his fingers on the counter. The afternoon and evening would be the perfect opportunity for him to see if taking his relationship with Sydney to the next level—to his bedroom—was going to happen or not. He’d stopped in the local box superstore and picked up condoms just in case as his stash had some age on them. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but neither did he want to be caught with his pants down.
“Guess we’ll see,” he said in the quiet kitchen as the shower shut off. He’d not been so nervous about a date in years, and at the same time, anticipation of what might happen was building. It was an odd mix of feelings, but it was better than what he’d been going through. One way or another, his gut was telling him there’d be resolution this evening. He could hardly wait.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sydney’s mortification over napping at work was dwarfed by her humiliation at having fallen into Sawyer’s pond. He’d been amused, obviously, but she’d wanted to sink through the deck and into the muck of the pond. And when her key didn’t work, and she couldn’t find the spare? She’d read romance novels with better intentional setups than this.
“What if he thinks I did it on purpose?” she muttered as she scrubbed her hair. She couldn’t help but think about the disastrous kiss when she was nineteen, when she’d laid in wait for Sawyer in the parking lot of the state police post and kissed him. It had been a minor miracle no one had seen them.
The shower was hot, steamy, and she didn’t want to get out. Not just because of her embarrassment, but because by using his body wash—who’d have thought the man used body wash?—and shampoo, she’d engulfed herself in a Sawyer-scented cloud. It was absolute torture to be so close to the man’s belongings in such an intimate way.
Knowing she had to get out or else risk Sawyer thinking she was crazy, she turned the water off and reached for one of the thick towels he’d given her. She had to give herself a stern talking to in order to force herself to get out of the shower, to get dressed in the clothes he’d given her. The shorts were miles too large, even though they’d probably fit him rather snugly, but they had a drawstring waist so she was able to tighten them well enough. But the shirt… Sydney groaned.
“You’d think God would have given me a few more inches in height to balance these out,” she whispered to her reflection as she studied the way the T-shirt draped over her breasts. Some women could go without a bra and no one would notice. Sydney was not one of those women. She was very lush on top, and to keep from looking too provocative, she had to wear something. If she and Sawyer were intimate, the sensual look would be a positive asset. But they weren’t intimate.
“Nothing you can do about it,” she told herself as she rinsed her bra and panties out in the sink. She wrapped them in the second towel and rolled it up to dry them, hoping against hope she could get enough dampness out to at least put the bra back on. But the cups were lightly padded, and if she wore the bra, she’d end up with two large wet splotches on the front of the shirt. She’d feel more exposed and ridiculous than she already did.
Resigned to the fact that she’d give Sawyer a bit of a show one way or another, she rinsed out her shorts and shirts and dried them the same way she’d done with the underwear. Finished, she wrapped the entire outfit in the least-damp towel and left the bathroom in search of Sawyer. She found him standing in the living room, looking out over the backyard. He’d put a shirt on, more was the pity.
“I’ll need to borrow the towel,” she told him.
“That’s fine. Do you need anything else?” he asked as he turned.
“No. I’ll put these in the car to dry.”
“We can probably retrieve your shoe,” he said. “I’ve got a net in the garage. I’ll get it and see if I can fish the shoe out.”
“Thank you.”
By the time she came back in from the car, he was on his way to the house from the pond, a triumphant grin on his face. “Got it!” He held the flip flop up like a trophy, then handed it to her. “That should help.”
Sydney couldn’t hold on to her discomfort entirely in light of his pride in the accomplishment, and she smiled. “That does. Once again, I’m in your debt.”
“So how long did Archer say it would be before Graydon’s out of his game? Not that I’m trying to rush you off, but I’m curious.”
“A couple of hours. It’d just started when I called.”
It was just approaching four now.
“How hungry are you?” he asked.
She shrugged, keeping her arms carefully crossed. “I’m okay. I had a salad for lunch, nothing heavy. Why?”
“Because I’m starving. And I may have some marinara in there that came from Noah.”
“You do?”
“Mm-hmmm. I kinda called him and ordered some after that first jar. It cost me a whole case of bear claws, but the sauce was worth it. And I might have some gourmet tortellini and crusty garlic bread to go with it.”
Sydney’s mouth was watering at the thought. “What are we waiting for?”
Sawyer laughed. “Not a thing.”
In the kitchen, they worked side by side putting the meal together. Sawyer opened a bottle of wine and let it breathe, and Sydney gathered the ingredients for a salad. He’d given her carte blanche to pull whatever she wanted from the fridge.
“I’ve also got some unbelievable manchego in there,” he told her as she was getting things together. “We could slice it. And there’s mizithra to go on the pasta.”
“Mizithra? Where in the world did you get that?” She was stunned by the eclectic and varied foods he had stocked.
“Lexington. I usually try to go down once a month and hit the bigger grocery stores. Just because I’m a vegetarian doesn’t mean I like to eat boring food.”
“I see that.”
“There’s deer salami in the deli drawer if you want some, and regular.”
Sydney had to swallow her reaction down. Deer salami. Oh, God. “Have you ever had Rachel over for dinner?” she asked as she got the cheese out, leaving the meat behind.
“A time or two. Why?”
“Do me a favor. Don’t ever offer her deer salami. Or deer anything.”
Sawyer frowned. “Okay. Why?”
How in the world to explain? “She’s pretty attached to the creatures. My whole family is, as far as that goes. Please tell me you don’t hunt.”
He laid his knife down and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “I don’t. Never saw the sport in it. The whole family, huh?”
