DARE You, Dare Duet, Part One: Billie and Sawyer: Unchained Attraction Series

by Shandwick, K. L.

  Pushing the small fiberglass vessel out a little further he dived forward, perched his hips on the side and clambered in beside me. I don't know how he did it, but he didn't get his jeans wet.

  First, Sawyer checked the fuel, released a hinge and dropped the propeller part of the engine into the water. He pulled out the choke and pulled the engine cord. When the motor coughed and petered out he repeated the process until it began to idle. When he opened the throttle the engine revved convincingly and the strangest thought ran through my mind: No one knows where I am.

  "Okay, ready?" he asked, obviously reading into my concern. "Don't look so worried, darlin', I know what I'm doing. I promise we're only going a little farther out, and then we'll head down following the shoreline."

  It struck me that at some point in my life I'd become fearful of a lot of things, things a guy like Sawyer took in his stride. Swallowing down my anxiety I flashed him a smile. "Where are you taking me?"

  "You'll see. It's less than a five minute ride, but we can take my little boat from this part of the beach.”

  The outboard engine was far more powerful than I'd expected and the little lightweight boat sped along, bobbing on the water when the occasional bigger wave came in. A few minutes later, my hair had been tossed and sprayed by the waves, my skin felt invigorated, and I was grinning ear to ear.

  Chapter Eight

  "Told you," he called out as he cut the power to the outboard motor. "This is us, right over here."

  The high-class home he gestured toward looked like an A-list film star's residence, complete with a small private beach, wooden boardwalk, and jetty.

  The closest property was barely visible, about four hundred yards further up the beach. When he docked in front of the imposing three-story structure of the individual architectural design, I gasped.

  Nerves gripped my stomach and a new adrenaline burst set my body on high alert. I'd known Sawyer for less than a day, and the last thing I thought I needed was to be introduced to his friends. "What are we doing here?"

  "I figured maybe we'd have a bite to eat up there on the balcony and catch the awesome sunset that happens out on the water over there," he said, pointing west toward the horizon.

  "It's not even lunchtime," I mumbled incredulously. "Whose house is this? I'm not sure I'm quite up to meeting people, you know. I'm still getting used to the idea of dating you."

  "Good, because I'm the only one here. And I'm not ready to share you with the losers in my world yet either," he informed me. He shook his head before his eyes narrowed and he scrutinized me closely. "And that's not because I need to get used to anything or I'm worried about what people think. It's because I want to have you all to myself for now," he said, preempting my insecurities.

  As soon as he helped me ashore, I glanced up at the magnificent house and took a deep breath. "This place is incredible. Are you staying with a friend? Housesitting?" The two upper floors had dome-shaped windows at the center, and I imagined they gave panoramic views of the ocean by day and uninterrupted views of the stars in the sky by night.

  A modern brushed stainless steel and toughened glass balcony ran the full width of the first floor, and from where I stood, I could barely see a small tiki bar and what I thought may have been a barrel-shaped hot tub.

  "Nah, it's mine," he stated, deadpan.

  "Yours?" I questioned, my voice rose a full octave in disbelief. "Exactly how famous are you?"

  "Not this famous," he said, chuckling as he pointed up at the beautiful property. "I mean, our band has a great little following. We make a decent living in the US, and we're fairly popular in Japan." He chuckled. "Other than that, like thousands of other great bands, we're still hidden gems. Which, incidentally, is the way I prefer it."

  "If this didn't come from your music, then how?"

  Sawyer placed his hand on the small of my back, gave me a small sad smile, and guided me toward his front door. "It was my uncle's place. He built it with his bare hands. Well, with some contracted help, of course. Uncle Alex was my dad's only brother and a super talented architect." He heaved a sad sigh. "This is going to take a while to explain. Let's go inside and I'll tell you my story."

  Punching some numbers into a keypad on the door, all the deadbolts unlocked and the high-tech door sprang open a little. Pushing it wider, he wandered over to a small box near the stairs and pushed the front panel. When it opened, he disarmed a silent alarm.

  Gazing around the ground floor, I could see a couple of rooms leading off from the center. A large formal living room took up most of one side and an open plan game room and bar area occupied all of the rest.

  Across from the stairs, a tall bank of windows looked north onto lush green manicured gardens with a large array of shrubs and trees and some beautifully designed cascading fountains.

  "This way," he prompted, pulling my attention back to him. He gestured toward the centerpiece spiral staircase, which from the bottom I saw stretched up all three floors.

  Everything in the house had been carefully thought out. There was luminous green strip lighting on the stairs, which was obvious pressure controlled. It lit up with every step I took on the way up to the first floor.

  The place was unbelievable and I was stunned he had such a grand, expensive house. Again, found it hard to accept Sawyer was wealthy, great looking, compassionate, and wanted me.

  The first floor was in semi-darkness as I reached the top of the stairs. "Open the shades," he commanded, and the blacked-out screens surrounding the custom curved windows slowly crept back from each side. I watched them in silence until the specially made shades settled into recesses in the walls.

  "Wow!" I exclaimed. The view from the first floor room was uninterrupted, despite a neighbor right down the street.

  "I know, right? My uncle was a genius. Everything in the house is measured right down to the last sixteenth of an inch, soundproofed and has acoustic glass. His attention to detail was superbly impressive."

  "He built this?"

  "He scouted the plot, drew his designs, chose all the materials for their durability, and supervised the whole project right down the eco-friendly design of the rooftop terrace. Let's grab some drinks and something to eat," he said casually, as he wandered over to a huge open plan kitchen, complete with rounded the countertops, and a walk-in refrigerator. The monster cold-room fridge had been packed with cold cuts, cheeses, wine, and plenty of containers full of antipasti type nibbles.

  "You entertain a lot?"

  "Me? Nah, not here. I don't bring people here, but my sisters bring their friends for girlie weekends."

  "Sisters?"

  "Yeah, I have three, and one older brother, James. I'm the youngest." My heart sank to think he had three big sisters and immediately thought they'd hate me dating their younger brother.

  "How old are they?"

  Ignoring my question, he pulled the food containers out and dropped them all clumsily on the countertop before reaching over for a cheeseboard. He placed the cheeses neatly on top of it and rummaged noisily through the cutlery drawers.

  He waved the silverware and cheese knives over the food. "Is all this and a salad all right?" he asked.

  "Sure. I'm not that hungry anyway."

  He glanced at the spread, but didn't respond for a moment, then mumbled, "Me either. Not for food, anyway." My shyness hit me again when his eyes caught mine, and I saw his desire grow in them right in front of me.

  "Better have something at least," I muttered quickly, and he burst out laughing.

  "Am I that intimidating?"

  "No, you're not intimidating. I'm a little rusty at this dating thing."

  "Hmm. I'm a thing now, huh? I'm not sure whether I prefer that or the 'random guy' label. Is 'this dating thing' a step up from that? You know what? Don't answer that, or we'll be here all day. Grab a bottle of white wine from the fridge. Or if you like red, there are some in the rack under the cabinet over there," he said, walking away from me toward the balcony doo
rs. "Patio doors open," he commanded, and the doors unlatched and immediately folded back in a smooth mechanical rotation.

  Grabbing the wine, I stepped out onto the balcony and the view took my breath away. I turned to look over at him as he pulled out two chilled wine glasses from a wine cabinet at the side of his tiki bar.

  "Sit. Allow me," he ordered. My eyes roamed over the outdoor kitchen and barbecue I hadn't noticed before. Taking out two plates, he kicked the door closed on the tall cupboard beside the sink and placed them in front of us.

  For the next few minutes, we loaded our plates and glasses with food and wine, then sat back down to eat.

  "So, the house?" I prompted.

  "Right," he said, his hand halting with a large black olive held between his fingers. "As I said, Alexander was my dad's only brother. His dream was to build a dream place to his specification and fill it with kids." For a second, Sawyer glanced out at the view like he was gathering his thoughts before he looked back to me. His eyes had dulled in sadness.

  "He didn't have children?"

  "Unfortunately, no. He and his wife had big plans, but my aunt Maxine caught meningitis on vacation and passed away before he finished this. It was tragic because he was still relatively young, and she had been the love of his life. This was supposed to be their forever home … and now it's mine." He shrugged and our eyes connected. His were filled with the pain of his loss. "I was invested in this, and he knew I'd never sell it. I guess that's why he left it to me."

  "Oh, goodness. How awful."

  "Tell me about it. The guy worked so damned hard all his life and was brilliant at what he did. He worked as a government planner and architect for the city for fifteen years and consulted on large town projects until he decided to leave and design independent projects. People thought getting my uncle Alex to design for you was like winning the lottery."

  "Alex Wild … Alexander Wild was your uncle?" I asked, the name suddenly clicking with me. I'd seen documentaries on the man, and his talent had been exceptional.

  "Yeah. He always said each house he built, in consultation with the owners, taught him all the things he didn't want as features in his own."

  "He didn't want to live here when it was finished?"

  "No, he did. And he lived here for a while, but he died in a boating accident about two years ago and left a sizable portfolio of property. I inherited this," he remarked, waving his arm in the air.

  "All of it? What about your siblings?"

  "No, I didn't get all of his houses, just this and one other. Investing in property was how he secured his money, but this one was special to me. I gave up every weekend when I was seventeen to help out with the build. My sisters also got the pick of their favorite properties, and the rest were sold off to tenants or auctioned off and the money was split between me, my sisters, and two of his cousins as stipulated in his will. Everyone in my generation were his beneficiaries, except for my brother."

  "He was left out?" I asked, horrified. Sawyer reached across the small table and took my hand. Threading his fingers between mine he stared at them, clasping and unclasping his fingers while he thought.

  "Yeah, James had always been a bit … hard to handle. He and Uncle Alex never did see eye to eye. My uncle said it was James's nature to always want what I had. I couldn't argue with that since he betrayed me with my girlfriend, but I didn't think it was right to cut him out of my uncle's will. The way I saw it was I would never enjoy what he gave me as long as James had nothing, so I asked my sisters and his cousins to share what we'd all gotten fairly with him."

  "What happened?"

  "Happened? They were pissed I wanted to give him the time of day after what he'd done and refused to give him anything, but I was determined he wouldn't walk away empty-handed. My dad had already cut him off financially, and nothing I'd said could change that."

  “Understandable though, given how he’d treated you,“ I remarked.

  He shrugged. “James was devastated when he learned what our uncle had done. It was like another punishment for everything that had happened between us. I had to agree, it had looked that way to me too. He felt wronged, so I split what I'd been given right down the middle and signed over half to him."

  "That was amazingly generous of you."

  "The right thing," he replied, deadpan. "Now he has a gorgeous little place about five miles from here with the girl who used to be mine. He has more money than he'll ever need in his lifetime, and they don't want for anything. Even if James didn't have that money, Charlotte's parents would always make sure she didn't go without." He shrugged. "Don't worry. I'm well over her. I fell out of love the moment I saw her with my brother’s dick inside of her."

  "This situation must be so hard for you. He is your only brother."

  "We've never had an easy relationship. He's ten years older than me." He realized his age mistake and cringed. "It wasn't the age difference that made it difficult. He's never been as confident as I am, and that's always been an issue. Growing up, he always criticized everything I did, and tore me down in front of others at every opportunity, to make himself feel better. Uncle Alex saw this more than once and wiped many a tear from my face when I was a kid."

  "That must have been horrible for you."

  "Once, when he'd made me cry, my uncle and my father were comforting me. James was upstairs wrecking his room after my father had sent him there for being cruel to me. I asked them why he behaved the way he did and my uncle Alex shook his head and said simply, "You were born.” I had no idea what he'd meant by that until years later when he said James had held the coveted position of being the only boy in the house, and I'd taken that from him the day my parents brought me home."

  "That's a shame because I think you'd make an awesome brother." He smiled at that, his eyes softening.

  "Thanks. I'm growing on you, huh?" he probed, his curious gaze fixed on mine. I nodded.

  "Yeah," I admitted, quietly because listening to his story about his brother, and the fact he'd still insisted on doing the right thing by him gave me a warm feeling about the kind of man he was.

  I'd heard how greed and wills could tear families apart and he'd shown a level of maturity and the need to get things right, despite his older brother's treatment of him.

  "What you did was very honorable."

  "Nah, it was as much for me as it was for him. I couldn't have enjoyed this with a clear conscience, knowing he had been left out in the cold. I don't take it for granted. The money, I mean. I never have. The bills are paid each month from it, but I pay for the live-in housekeeper and maintenance man from the money I earn. I inherited Tony and Kate Maynard with the house and they have a home for life, per my uncle's request. They're a husband and wife team who take over running the house when I'm not here. When I'm at home they occupy an apartment in the west wing."

  We both fell silent and looked out at the ocean again. The view from the balcony was incredible. "He chose the perfect spot to build his house," I remarked. After there was another pause in our conversation as I watched Sawyer get lost for a while in his thoughts.

  Chapter Nine

  "All right. Your turn. Larry finally signed those papers, right?" Sawyer asked, snapping out of his trance-like state as he turned his attention from the ocean back to me.

  I chuckled at his deliberate mistake. "His name is Logan. And yes, he did."

  "I knew it," he replied, picking up his drink and swirling the wine around in his glass.

  A frown creased my brow. "You knew he signed the papers?"

  "No, I knew his name. But he's forgettable now that you have me." We both smiled and he gulped down his wine like a thirsty man.

  "You make all of this sound very permanent between us."

  "No point in going after something you think won't work."

  "You're very intense. Has anyone ever told you this?"

  "Never. I've never felt this passionate about anything before."

  "What about the live-in girlfriend
?"

  "Ex-girlfriend, and yes and no," he remarked and looked out at the ocean again. "James and Charlotte deserve each other. I did love her, cherished her even, but the second she cheated I wanted nothing more from her. She still contacts me from time to time and begs me to take her back. She still calls and texts me to this day."

  "Your brother knows this, and he's still with her?"

  "I have no idea, but I'd imagine so. She makes no secret of it during charity events."

  Sawyer saw my puzzled look. "It's a long story. There is a lot of family history between her family and mine, so we still run into them from time to time. Anyway, as far as James goes, I'm not into tearing him down. I don't like what he did, but he's still my flesh and blood. It gives me no pleasure to know she's with him but still wants me." He paused, looking at me curiously. "Were you a therapist in a previous life?" he asked.

  "Me? Why?" I wondered.

  "You have an amazing gift for deflecting. We're supposed to be talking about you right now."

  "Ah. Okay," I replied before I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything, but we'll start with college, your marriage, and Colby."

  Inhaling sharply, I glanced nervously at him, thinking my experience alone made me sound old, and he squeezed my hand. "It's okay. Trust me. Shake off those doubts, Billie. I'm not your ex-husband. This is a new start, remember?"

  I sighed. "Okay, let me see. I was born in Bay City, Michigan, but came to New York to attend college. I earned an MS in Business and Finance. I met Logan, who was finishing his post-grad studies, just as I was starting mine. The year I finished, he became an English professor at the School of Professional Studies at NYU."

  "You dated your professor?" he chuckled.