by Jenna Jacob
“Charges for what exactly?”
“When she’s ready, she’ll tell you.”
“Is this douche the reason she’s put that fucking man ban in place?”
“One of them.”
“One? How many—”
Colton raised his hand. “Unless you want me telling her your secrets, don’t keep pressing me for hers. Ask her yourself.”
“Go ahead. Tell her anything you want about me.” Sawyer shrugged. “The whole town knows all my shit, anyway.”
“Not all of it, but they don’t know any of hers. I’d like to keep it that way if possible.”
Sawyer pinned him with a glare. “I’m not part of the gossip guild, and you damn well know it.”
“True. But do you really want Brea knowing all your secrets? Knowing how long you’ve been fucking the sisters?”
“She’s not stupid. I’m sure she figured it out when they showed up in my hot tub.”
“No, she’s not, which makes me wonder why, after seeing the sisters all but strip off their bikinis, trying to entice you to go back home and play, Brea was still willing to let you take her to bed. Most women would have kicked you in the nuts and put a curse on your dick to make it shrivel up and fall off.”
“Brea’s not like other women,” Sawyer bit out.
“No. She’s not. No matter how many flaws a man has, she only sees what little good they have in them. Problem is, the guys she finds wouldn’t know good from a sack of shit.”
“Then why did she take me upstairs?”
“Because she’s still searching for Mr. Right.” A grim expression settled over Colton’s face. “I love you like a brother, man, but we both know…you’re not him. If all you want is a piece of ass, get it from the sisters and leave Brea alone. Understood?”
Bristling, Sawyer opened his mouth to tell his well-meaning cousin to go fuck himself. But Nash’s words exploded in his head: I should have left well enough alone instead of listening to your piss-poor advice.
He found zero comfort being on the receiving end of Colton’s well-meaning advice. But it didn’t change his feelings for Brea. His cousin could lecture him all he wanted, but Sawyer had no intention of turning his back on the girl. Not now. Not until he discovered every secret she was keeping.
“Let’s get that window boarded up. I don’t like the idea of someone watching her,” Sawyer stated, sliding a sheet of plywood out from against the wall.
“You never answered me,” Colton reminded.
“No. I didn’t,” Sawyer replied, hoisting the wood atop his shoulder.
“Fuck!” Colton mumbled under his breath and lifted the other end.
“Tell me one more thing. Where’s this douche-canoe who sent her to jail?”
“Hopefully, still behind bars. I’ll find out in the morning.”
“If he’s out, I’d appreciate a name and a description. I want her to stay safe.”
“Then stay out of her bed.”
Sawyer clenched his jaw. “Look, I know she’s a little damaged. Christ, bro, I’m not blind. But I won’t turn my back on her because you have a daddy complex. You and I are cut from the same cloth. But you were there when I kicked the sisters out of my hot tub and sent them home. You have no clue what I feel for Brea, so back the fuck off.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’ve known her…what? Two whole days?”
“It wouldn’t matter if I’d known her two minutes. It changes nothing.”
The adamant tone of his voice and words shocked Sawyer more than the look of disbelief crawling across Colton’s face.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re in love with her?”
Chapter Eight
Sawyer
* * *
“I…I don’t…know,” he mumbled. “All I know is that Brea is…different.”
“That’s right.” Colton moved in until they stood toe-to-toe. “She doesn’t need another man fucking her over. What she needs is someone to love her. If you’re not willing to do that, then keep playing games with Sylvia, Gretchen, and Annette. Or beat the priest, alone in your room. Just leave Brea alone. Got it?”
Sawyer’s defiant Grayson gene roared to life. Cousin or not, things were about to get ugly. Colton’s ultimatum ignited a living, breathing rage, and Sawyer knew why Nash had made a mess of things with Megan—why Nate had slapped back with such painful words.
It was time for Sawyer to break open the bottle of honesty and stow away his pride before he severed the bond he shared with his cousin.
No. He wasn’t in love with Brea, but his feelings ran deeper than heavy like. She fascinated and aroused him. Colton’s desire to protect her wasn’t out of line. If the roles were reversed, Sawyer would do and say anything to protect her from one more cock bag bent on breaking her heart. Sawyer wanted to heal her, and maybe along the way, if he was lucky, he’d heal himself, too.
“Look, man. I don’t want to hurt her; I just want to get to know her better.”
“Then get to know her and not her body.”
“Dammit, man. I wasn’t the one who led her up the stairs. She led me.”
Colton scowled and exhaled heavily. “Fuck. All right, let’s get that window boarded up. We both have work in the morning.”
And Brea’s gonna spend the day working with me.
Sawyer would never forget the excitement dancing in her eyes when he’d invited her to the ranch. Colton was right; he did need to slow things down, but he wasn’t going to un-invite Brea to go to work with him. The more time he spent simply being with her, the more Sawyer liked it.
As they carried the plywood to the front of Barbara’s house, Sawyer heard Jade and Brea inside, laughing. He couldn’t help but grin. But the thought of someone stalking Brea, possibly wanting to hurt her or take away her bubbly spirit, stole the smile from his face and instantly tossed him into caveman mode.
Easy, Hercules! She needs someone to love her.
Sawyer cared for her more than he should, more than he wanted, but the idea of falling in love again squeezed his heart in a fist of fear.
After securing the plywood, he and Colton cleaned up the glass.
“Would you hardworking men like a cold beer? There’s a couple left in the fridge.”
Sawyer turned to find Brea standing at the edge of the living room. Her panic was gone, but tendrils of uneasiness still lingered in her eyes. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, take away her anxiety, and lose himself in her sweet kisses. The ghost of her luscious curves pressed against him still warmed his flesh. So did the salty essence of her skin on his tongue and her taut nipples on the tips of his fingers. But most of all, the scent of her heady arousal still branded in his brain made him want to mark her with his seed in every primal way.
She’s still searching for Mr. Right…but we both know…you’re not him.
Colton’s words resonated in Sawyer’s head. He swallowed a growl of frustration and flashed her a quick smile. “No, thanks, I’m good.”
Brea quickly banked the ripple of rejection that fluttered across her face. He wouldn’t have even noticed had Colton not shared a few of Brea’s secrets.
“None for me. We’re done,” Colton announced. “I’ll come over in the morning and start patching up the drywall, order a new pane of glass. We’ll get everything back to normal.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you two doing all this.” Brea nodded toward the plywood. “I wouldn’t have slept a wink if that were left gaping open.”
“No problem. I like working with my hands.” Even as the words slid past Sawyer’s lips, he wanted to call them back. Especially when a beet-red blush crawled up Brea’s chest and settled on her cheeks.
“Are you ready to head home, kitten?” Colton asked his wife.
“Do you want to come back to the ranch and stay with us until Barbara returns?” Jade asked Brea.
“No. I’ll be fine. Ozzie will alert me if something’s not right, and I know he’ll be more comfortable in his own home.”<
br />
“Okay, but if you get scared in the night or anything else happens—”
“She’ll call me,” Sawyer assured. “I’m a whole lot closer.”
“Then call me,” Jade instructed, arching her brows.
“Yes, Mother,” Brea drawled.
“Don’t mother me, bitch.” Jade tried to smile but her face crumpled in pain. “I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Brea assured as she dragged Jade into her arms with a tight hug. “I’m going to be fine. Promise.”
As Colton and Jade headed to their truck, Sawyer hung back. He wanted to try and assess if Brea truly was all right staying at the house alone or had simply told Jade what she’d needed to hear.
After waving goodbye to the couple, Brea turned and sent Sawyer a weak smile. “Since Colton’s coming by tomorrow, I’ll have to take a rain check helping out at the camp.”
Her palpable disappointment made Sawyer frown, but he lifted his shoulder with a careless shrug. “It’s okay. You can come the next day.”
“We’ll see what’s happening then.”
Brea was shutting down before his eyes, slamming the door in his face and climbing inside herself. He hated it but he understood why she was doing it.
“If you see or hear anything suspicious, call me. Day or night. Barbara left my number with you, right?”
“She did.” Brea nodded. “If Emmett decides to take out another window, you’ll be the first person I call.”
He sent her a scolding glare.
“You’ll call if you get spooked. I don’t care if a mouse fart startles you. Call me.”
She won’t and you know it, the voice warned.
“On second thought, give me your number in case I see or hear something suspicious and need to alert you,” Sawyer said, dragging his cell from his pocket.
Sawyer pulled out his cell and stored Brea’s number as she rattled it off.
“I’m serious, darlin’. If you get spooked, call me.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and nodded.
God, how he ached to latch on to that plump, pink flesh and pull it into his mouth. Instead, Sawyer pressed a tender, chaste kiss to her forehead.
“Good night, Brea.”
“Night.”
Sawyer felt her gaze burn into his back all the way across the yard. Even as every cell in his body protested and screamed to turn around, he put one foot in front of the other. The last thing he wanted was to crawl inside his cold, empty bed…alone. But Colton was right. Brea needed more than Sawyer was capable of giving—love.
Trudging up the stairs to his room, Sawyer cursed the pricks who’d broken her heart. Steering clear of his bed, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into a pair of shorts, then moved the padded wing-back chair to the window. Yes, he’d be as useless as tits on a boar at work tomorrow, but he’d survive. A little sleep deprivation wouldn’t kill him as long as he knew his girl remained safe all night.
Your girl?
“I’m so fucked!” he woefully drawled.
Refusing to dissect the Freudian slip, he opened his window and took a seat on the chair. While he didn’t have a clear angle of the backyard, Sawyer could see enough to spot Bigfoot or the peeping prick if he stepped foot near the house next door. Easing back, he watched and waited.
Night sounds of crickets, bullfrogs, and an occasional owl surrounded him as humanity fell silent. Four hours later, he glanced at the clock and scrubbed a hand over his face. Several blocks away, he heard the faint sound of a dog barking and straightened in his chair. He craned his neck as he slowly scanned the area around Barbara’s house. The only things moving were the leaves on the trees. All appeared quiet, but a cold uneasiness inside him remained.
Sunlight warming Sawyer’s face jolted him awake. Blinking the sleep and blinding rays from his eyes, he cursed himself for falling asleep as he rolled his shoulders, working out the stiffness there.
“Good boy. Go back inside, you wild beast, and I’ll fill your bowl with kibble.”
Though he couldn’t see her, the sound of Brea’s voice made him smile. Ozzie scampered across the yard toward the deck, and Sawyer blew out a sigh of relief. The woman next door was alive and well. After making his way to the bathroom, he showered and readied for work. By six twenty-five, he was pulling out of the garage.
Next door on the wide white porch, Brea stood, hands on her hips and brows arched.
“Everything okay?”
She smirked. “You forgot about breakfast, didn’t you?”
Fuck!
He had and felt like an idiot.
“No,” he lied.
Turning off the motor, he climbed from the truck. Brea rolled her eyes, telling Sawyer what he already knew—he was busted!
Inwardly dragging out the backhoe to dig himself out, Sawyer knew if he wanted to gain her trust, he had to be honest.
“Actually, I did,” he confessed sheepishly. “I figured since you weren’t coming with me today that the offer of breakfast was off the table.”
“No. It’s still on the table. In fact, it’s in there getting cold.” She chuckled. “Inside, mister. I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all morning. If Ozzy has to eat your portion, I’m afraid he’ll barf.”
“Why? Are you that bad of a cook?” he teased.
She gasped, then sent him a mock scowl. “Bite me.”
Brea turned on her heel and stormed inside the house. Of course, he followed, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Quickly stepping up behind her, he leaned in close to her ear.
“You keep talking dirty to me like that, and I might forget all about food and feast on you.”
Brea’s stride faltered slightly before she corrected her gait. Her cheeks were pink as she nodded toward the table.
“That’s all the feast you’re getting, mister.”
In front of two empty plates were platters of pancakes, bacon, eggs, big, fluffy biscuits, three different jars of jelly, and two steaming cups of coffee. If he didn’t know better, Sawyer would have sworn she’d taken cooking lessons from his mom. There was enough food to feed an army.
Sawyer let out a low whistle. “Damn, Brea. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Thank you.” She preened as she sat down across from him. “Eat. Eat.”
After loading his plate, he dove in. Brea was an amazing cook. The old adage the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach was true. Sawyer was madly in love with Brea’s pancakes.
Toot’s would have some stiff competition if Brea stayed and opened a restaurant. But the greedy little boy inside him didn’t want her sharing her culinary talents with anyone but him. When he drew the coffee to his lips, the heat of the mug warmed them like her mouth had last night.
Don’t go there, fucker. You’ll be late for work and…
A knock at the front door pulled Sawyer from his burgeoning carnal thoughts.
Brea hopped up from her chair as Ozzie let out a bark.
“Hang on.” Sawyer stood. “Let me answer it.”
“Brea, sweetheart. It’s me,” Colton called from the porch.
“Stand down, soldier.” Brea smirked. “It’s not Bigfoot.”
“You can never be too safe.”
“In Haven? Please.”
If Brea was still spooked about a stalker, it didn’t show. Sawyer didn’t want her worrying… That was his job. And when his eyes locked on to the seductive sway of her hips as she walked to the door, Sawyer’s palms itched to add another, far more exhilarating job to his list. Sadly, Brea wasn’t ready, and with the arrival of Daddy Colton, Sawyer’s every action would be studied under his cousin’s parental microscope. He’d be lucky to steal a kiss before leaving for work.
Sawyer didn’t like being on a leash any more than he liked tamping down his desires and behaving himself.
Brea
* * *
Though she was always happy to see Colton, his timing sucked…again. Brea f
elt cheated that breakfast with Sawyer had been interrupted, not that she’d planned to offer him anything but food. Her real reason for inviting him over was to prove she could find happiness in a friendship without any bedroom gymnastics mucking up her perceptions. It was a baby step, but one she needed to achieve.
She invited Colton to join them for breakfast and nearly laughed at the disapproving scowl he pinned on Sawyer.
“Lighten up, Captain America. I didn’t spend the night violating her every deviant way known to man,” Sawyer drawled, then added under his breath, “but I sure wanted to.”
Colton’s intimidating mien softened, and a crooked grin curled his lips. “Can’t blame me for trying to keep a friend’s virtue intact.”
Sawyer dropped his fork. As it clanged on his plate, Brea choked on her coffee and slapped a napkin over her mouth to catch the liquid spewing off her lips. Bolting from his chair, Sawyer slapped her on the back, asking her over and over if she could breathe.
Nodding, she coughed out hoarsely, “I’m fine. I’m good.”’
After she’d regained her composure, she widened her eyes at Colton. “Don’t say things like that. You almost killed me! My virtue hasn’t been intact since eighth grade, and you damn well know it.”
“Who was the lucky guy?” Sawyer grinned.
“Billy Franklin,” Colton supplied. “A scrawny, pimply-faced—”
“Hush!” Brea scolded. “We are not waltzing down memory lane this morning.”
“Why not?” Colton asked with a chuckle after he’d pried her fingers away. “I think the story’s cute.”
“Not another word,” she said, sending him a fiery scowl.
“You can tell me later, bro.” Sawyer grinned as Brea squirmed in her seat.
“Who was your first?” she challenged Colton. “I bet you can’t even remember her name.”
“Of course I do,” he answered wistfully. “Billy Franklin’s older sister, Brenda Mae. She was my first older woman.”
“Brenda Mae? My god, Colton! How old were you, five?” Brea gasped.
