by Emma Nichole
“Mine is Elizabeth. I just thought we should know that about one another.”
“Well then, Sawyer Elizabeth.” He stands taller when he speaks and gives his best regal accent, “Shall we?” He offers his arm to me and I slip mine through.
“We shall, Isaac Andrew.”
***
“I feel like I’m never going to stop being in awe all weekend long.”
I step into our room for the weekend and I have stop myself from audibly gasping. It is literally a room that could have belonged to a princess.
The walls are a rich champagne color with gold crown molding lining the tops and bottoms of the walls. There is a dark, oak wardrobe in the right corner by two French doors that lead to a balcony. There’s a huge four-poster bed against the left wall, centered directly in front of a beautiful fireplace with a black steel screen on the hearthstone.
I slide my hand over the lush, white duvet placed perfectly over the bed along with many inviting pillows.
“Goddamn,” Isaac calls from the bathroom. “Come check this out.”
I follow the sound of his voice and step into a bathroom that is even better than I could have imagined.
A Jacuzzi tub that could easily fit ten people is nestled into a little nook in the corner that is totally lined with mirrors. It’s decadent. It’s hot.
“This is out of control, Isaac.” I cover my mouth and laugh. It’s the only reaction I have. “This is insane.”
“Christopher told me it was going to be over-the-top, but I wasn’t expecting this. Not that I’m complaining. I’m absolutely not, especially since I have pretty awesome company.”
I look over my shoulder at him and smile. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful before? This is just crazy.” I slide my hand over the lip of the incredibly deep, inviting bathtub.
“Sawyer…” Isaac steps up behind me and I look up into the mirror in front of me so I can meet his eyes.
“Yeah?” I reply.
“I realize now that I never even considered the fact you might not want to sleep in the same bed. I should have asked you instead of just assuming, and I want to apologize for that.”
I spin around so I can see him face-to-face. “If I didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, I wouldn’t have agreed to be your date. We are adults, right?”
“I just don’t want you to feel pressured into anything, Sawyer. I just needed to say that. This isn’t some ploy to get in your pants. I really just want to spend time with you,” he says, as he cups my face in his hands.
“I like when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel like I’m more than a piece of meat. You respect me as a person, and that means more to me than anything.”
“I can’t lie to you though,” he slides his hands around my body and pulls me closer, “I do think about you in less than respectful ways sometimes. Does that make me an asshole?”
My stomach flips deliciously and a tingle builds between my legs.
“No, because if that makes you an asshole, what does the fact I also have the same thoughts make me?” I place my hands on his chest and stare up at him.
“Sawyer, I don’t know what we are doing or where this is going, but I do know I’m enjoying the journey, and I don’t want it to stop anytime soon,” he says with pure honesty written on his face. There isn’t an ounce of him that feels dishonest.
“On this we can agree. We like each other, we enjoy spending time together, and whatever happens… happens. We are grown-ups. We are allowed to have fun. I need fun.”
Especially with Jason’s birthday looming.
What used to be my favorite day of the year is now the one I dread the most.
“Well, lucky for you, I am the master at providing a fun time.” He presses a kiss to my nose.
“I like the sound of that.”
“So let’s take a few minutes to change or freshen up, then we can go explore the grounds and I can introduce you to everyone. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like the start of an amazing weekend.”
Chapter 13
Isaac
Sawyer has hit it off with every single person I have introduced her to this evening at the rehearsal dinner. She hasn’t met a stranger and is so kind and able to contribute to every conversation without it feeling forced or awkward.
She looks beautiful in her flowy dress with sunflowers all over it beneath the orange glow the evening brings over the hills. I’ve never experienced time with a woman that’s this easy. There’s no pressure, no expectation—it’s just us—going with the flow.
I’m watching her from the bar, which I’m currently leaning against, while she chats it up with Mrs. Leonard, Christopher’s mother, at a standing table just across the courtyard. I watch the way she engages animatedly, using her hands to talk, which I’ve picked up on recently. If her hands were tied behind her back, she likely couldn’t speak at all.
“She’s a pretty one, Isaac.”
I look to my right as Christopher leans against the bar next to me.
“Ah, the groom himself.” I hold up my glass and he clinks his against it. “This turned out really nice, man.”
“I didn’t have a thing to do with it. Danielle asked if she, her sister, and mom could handle it all. All I said was, ‘Yes dear.’”
“Learning early.” I turn my attention back on Sawyer because let’s face it; I’m drawn to her.
“So tell me about this one. I didn’t get a chance to properly speak with her earlier like I wish I would have been able to.”
I can’t help but laugh at him. “It’s fucking hilarious to hear you speak so properly. Too much time in the Hills with the rich and famous.”
Christopher is one of my oldest friends. I’ve known him since we were in high school, and he’s always had my back. He comes from one hell of a rough upbringing, but you wouldn’t know that looking at him now.
He’s one of the most successful attorneys in the Los Angeles area and he is marrying a woman who is beautiful, successful in her own right, and keeps him on his toes. I’d say he’s done pretty well for himself.
“Man, fuck off.” He laughs and shoves me a bit. “Seriously, though, tell me about her. I’ve caught you staring a time or two.”
“Well, I met her at the Harvest Festival. We quite literally ran into each other when she was coming out of the bathroom.”
I run through the CliffsNotes of our short time together. Christopher listens closely and doesn’t give me shit like the other guys, not at first at least. I finish my story with a sip of my scotch. “So that’s the long and short of it. We have fun together, so we are just… riding that wave.”
“Do you often ride that wave with that look on your face?” He uses his glass to gesture at my head.
“What are you talking about?”
“Dude, you’re staring at her like she hung the moon. Like there is no one else you’d rather be looking at right now.” He laughs. “It’s a look I know all too well because I wear it often. Just don’t tell Danielle that. She’d use it to her advantage.”
I shrug it off because that is the typical Isaac thing to do. “Nah, I don’t think it’s like that. Is it? I’ve known her a little over a month. I hardly know her at all.”
Even as I say those words, I know they are hollow. A lather, rinse, repeat habit I have formed over the years and the many casual relationships I dropped before they could bloom into more.
“Since when does that matter? I knew I wanted more with Danielle on the first date. Fifteen minutes in.”
“Bullshit. That’s not possible.”
“Man, anything is possible when the right woman is involved.”
We both turn when we hear his bride-to-be calling for him from across the way.
“You better go. Wouldn’t want to upset the bride. I’ll see you in there in a little bit.”
“I just want to marry her. I didn’t need all the hoopla.” He waves his hand aro
und, gesturing at everything happening around us.
“Hoopla? Goddamn you’re getting old.”
***
“I caught you, you know?” Sawyer says to me when I slide up next to her, at a standing table that overlooks the large vineyard, while we wait for me to be called in to run through the rehearsal for the ceremony.
“Caught me doing what, exactly?”
“Checking me out. You weren’t very sneaky about it. I think Mrs. Leonard thought you were looking at her though. Be careful. She may attack you later.”
“I’ve known that woman since I was a snotty-ass teen.”
“Have you never heard of a cougar? That woman is the definition. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“You’re gross.” I lean down and press a kiss to her shoulder that is dotted with freckles, no doubt a product of being in the sun.
“Well, that was mean.” She pokes at my stomach.
“Ouch.” I rub just over my belly button where she pressed in. “That hurt.”
“Good.”
We stare at each other for a moment before she finally breaks into a smile. “What?” she asks.
“I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what to make of all of this with us, Sawyer, but all I know is I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you are too.”
“To be honest, I was nervous. I was worried it would be awkward for me, but truthfully… I feel so comfortable. Your friends and their families are so nice. Though, many of them have told me how shocked they are you have found someone serious. I didn’t really have the heart to crush their spirits.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re pretending to be my girlfriend?”
She wrinkles her nose a bit, as if preparing for me to be angry. “Yeah, I suppose that is one way to look at it. I’m sorry.”
I place my glass on the table then take her hand in mine. “If we are going to play the part, we may as well be convincing about it, right?”
“What do you mean?”
Without warning, I pull her close then dip her back, causing her to shriek and pull every gaze our way. I kiss her like we have stepped into the middle of a romantic comedy and this is the big finale before the credits roll.
I don’t hear the hooting and hollering at first, because I’m so lost in this moment with her that nothing else matters, except the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears. When their voices start to bleed through, I can feel her giggling against my lips, and I can’t help but laugh with her.
I pull her upright and we keep laughing together along with the applause of everyone around us. I lean in to whisper in her ear, “Now you’re mine.” My brain knows this is for show, a game we are playing because she said she pretended to be my girlfriend, but I can’t deny there is also a part of me that wants my words to be true.
Sawyer
Now you’re mine.
His words are still ringing in my ear and sending a chill over my heated skin. I have that tight, anxious feeling in my stomach when you really like someone and you’re nervous to be around them. It’s like I’m a teenager.
I’m sitting on a barstool in the back of the outdoor venue while Isaac, as part of the bridal party, goes over what he will be doing tomorrow before and during the ceremony.
I watch as the groomsmen take their place next to Christopher, the groom. How does Isaac, a man so stunningly gorgeous, have friends just as attractive?
There’s Christopher, with his dark brown skin and haunting blue eyes, then you have Finn with his dirty blond hair styled in that way that is shorter on the sides and longer on the top. It could make him look like a tool, but he wears it so well, and Caleb… he’s like a sexy as sin Clark Kent.
All of this testosterone isn’t good for a woman who hasn’t had sex in a couple of years. I feel the sudden urge to fan myself like the older women in Southern churches on Sunday mornings.
This cat and mouse game I’m playing with Isaac certainly isn’t helping things either. Everything about him is so inviting. He’s the flame and I am the moth flying straight into its light, but I’m not scared of getting hurt. Not anymore, at least. Because I know at his core, he’s a good man. I can see it in the way he is with me, and in the way his friends look at him. He’s one of the good ones, and for some reason, he likes me as much as I like him.
It’s hard to believe, honestly.
Danielle, the bride-to-be, walks down the area that will be the aisle tomorrow with her father on her arm, and I see Christopher’s face light up. If he looks this proud and excited now, he’s going to be a crying groom tomorrow, and I love that.
Sometimes when I’m having a day and need a good cry, and let’s face it, we all need a cry occasionally, I’ll watch videos of grooms seeing their brides for the first time. It always hits me right where I need it to so I can cry out my bad day and move on from there.
It may be sad, but it’s what works for me.
They run through the ceremony, which seems rather quick, though I don’t really have any frame of reference. It seems short, sweet, and to the point. Given the venue, I would have assumed the ceremony would be much longer and involved, but maybe they just want to marry one another and call it a day. I appreciate that and think it’s incredible, if that’s the case.
I cross my legs and lean back against the bar, watching quietly as they run through one more time, and I can’t ignore the fact Isaac and I have made eyes at each other multiple times.
He’s caught me staring many times and I’ve caught him all the same. There’s a clear tension between us that is impossible to ignore. It’s so thick I’m shocked everyone around us can’t see it.
While I want to dive in headfirst and give in to the growing heat in my body so desperately wants to be kept alive by him, there is something so inviting and perfect about the chase.
If I’m honest with myself, I’m worried once we have sex, everything will change for us. Sex has a way of doing that to people. I want to wait, to see what this is between us before we take that step, but then I see him smile or feel the soft touch of his hand on my back.
I hear the way he speaks to me and makes me feel so powerful and amazing about myself, and I see the way people are able to hold a conversation with him that is intelligent and kind.
And those are just his nonphysical traits.
Don’t even get me started on those eyes of rich caramel, or those biceps I want to feel wrap me up completely. Then there’s his abs that remind me of someone who could be on the cover of a romance novel, coupled with the fact his face is absolutely perfect. His strong jawline with the coarseness of his short facial hair makes me weak in the knees. Sometimes, at night, when I’m alone, I think about what it will feel like when his stubbly cheek brushes against the tender skin of my inner thigh and my hands wander down my own body with him swimming in my mind.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
His deep, rich voice startles me out of the nice daydream I was having about beard burn and back into reality.
“Jesus, Isaac,” I place my hand over my heart. “You scared me.”
“I said your name a couple of times, but you were lost in space there. Everything all right?”
“Mmm hmm. Yep. Perfect.” I clear my throat a bit. “That went okay, huh? Seems like everything will go well tomorrow.”
I expect him to call me on my shit and force me to tell him I was thinking about his face between my legs, but he has some mercy and doesn’t push further.
“They kept the ceremony simple it seems. I have a feeling Christopher had something to do with that.”
“He isn’t into the big wedding?”
He leans next to me comfortably with one arm on the bar, “Nah, it’s not that. He just doesn’t like being the center of attention for longer than necessary, which is odd considering his profession, but that’s him. I think if he had his way, they’d be married at the courthouse and skip out of town for one hell of a honeymoon.”
�
�That’s what I would want. When I get married, I don’t need all the pomp and circumstance. I mean, it’s fun and it fits for some people, but it’s not for me. I want a small wedding, maybe even just the courthouse and a trip somewhere European with really good pasta.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned.”
“Every girl does, or at the very least, she’s thought about it and if she tells you she doesn’t, she’s a liar.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He reaches out and takes my hand before pulling me from the barstool to me feet. “I saw you staring at me, you know. You were beckoning me with those bedroom eyes of yours.”
“I have bedroom eyes?”
“Sawyer, you have bedroom everything.”
***
Three hours later, after a rehearsal dinner that was to die for, and many flowing drinks, we finally head back to our room.
My heels have long since been hanging from my index finger, and I’m absolutely exhausted. Between teetering in these shoes, being stuffed with so much food, and consuming far too much alcohol, all I want is to relax and to sleep.
“You know what sounds incredible right now?” I ask, as I lean against the wall by our door while he searches his pockets for the keycard.
“What?”
“A bubble bath and one hell of a nap,” I giggle.
“Someone is a little drunk,” he grins as he speaks, sliding the keycard into the door.
I hold up my hands, pinching my thumb and index finger in front of my eye, “Just a bit. Drunk is a strong word. I’d go with tipsy.”
“Tipsy Sawyer is cute.”
“Sober Sawyer is cute too,” I say proudly.
“You’re right about that. She is cute and even more.” He pushes the door open for me and I walk in first, turning around and collapsing backward onto the bed.
“Finally,” I moan in pleasure, so happy to finally be off my feet.
“Stay put. I’ll get it ready for you,” he says before disappearing around the corner.
“What?” I push up onto my elbow. “What are you doing?”
