by Susan Stoker
She rolled her eyes but picked up her fork and dug in. After a few bites, she asked, “Aren’t you having anything?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Nope. I’ll grab something later.”
She should’ve felt self-conscious eating in front of him, but the eggs were so good and he kept up an easy, light conversation. By the time she realized she was full, she’d eaten over half the omelet.
She sat back in the chair and patted her belly. “I’m done.”
“You did good,” Sawyer commented. “Ate more than I thought you would.” He stood and grabbed her plate. He went to the counter and she watched from the table as he covered the rest of the omelet and put it in the fridge. Then he poured a large glass of water and shook a pill into his palm from a bottle on the counter.
He brought both back to the table. “I’m sorry there’s nothing but water for now. Driftwood and Taco will get whatever you want from the store later today.”
“It’s fine,” Blythe told him and downed the pill he handed her without even asking what it was. She hoped it was a painkiller, as whatever the doctor had used to numb her wounds was wearing off.
“Come on, let’s get you settled.”
Blythe put her hand in his and let him pull her upright. He turned and led her back down the hallway to the master bedroom. “Need to use the restroom before you lay down?”
She shook her head.
He pulled back the covers and motioned for her to crawl in. Blythe did as directed, then sighed in contentment at the smell of the clean sheets, the soft, non-lumpy mattress under her, and the nice plump pillow beneath her head.
“Comfy?” Sawyer asked with an amused smile on his face.
“Very.”
Blythe’s eyes widened slightly as he leaned over her. She thought he was going to kiss her on the forehead, but instead, his lips brushed against her own. He hesitated a fraction of a second, then increased the pressure. She felt his tongue lick against her lower lip, but before she could do more than breathe in through her nose, he’d pulled back.
His eyes were heavy-lidded and she saw his nostrils flare before he said, “Sleep well, baby. I’ll be nearby if you want anything.”
Blythe looked around the room, searching for her bag.
“What are you looking for?” Sawyer asked.
She hated to be needy, but she’d guarded the phone he’d accidentally given her for so long, she wasn’t sure she could sleep without it now. “My bag.”
“It’s in the bathroom still. What do you need?”
“The phone?” It came out as a question, which Blythe hated, but Sawyer didn’t seem to notice. He immediately spun on his heels and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned with her pack. He put it on the floor next to the bed and raised his eyebrows, as if to ask if it was okay for him to look inside.
Blythe nodded and he quickly pulled out his old cell phone. He handed it to her without a word.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep,” he ordered.
“Good night,” Blythe told him.
Sawyer nodded at her, then turned and left the room.
Blythe clutched the phone to her chest for a long moment after he left, then took a deep breath and turned it on.
It immediately began to vibrate with incoming messages.
Natalie: OMG. U ok? Txt wen u can.
Charlotte: Heard you were hurt. That sucks. Text later so I can show you my dress for the dance.
Emma: Mom said something happened. I hope you’re okay. If you need anything, just ask! We wanted to come but Sawyer said we had to wait.
Blythe couldn’t help but chuckle. Sawyer’s sisters were so different, but each showed their concern in their own way.
Seeing such worry from his family made her think of Hope and Billy once more. Where were they right now? Who was worrying about them…well, besides her? The thought made her sad and anxious.
Without thinking about what she was doing, she clicked on Squirrel’s name and sent a text.
Blythe: You have an amazing family.
She didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds for him to respond.
Squirrel: They’re a pain in the ass, but I couldn’t love them more. You okay?
Blythe: Yeah. I’m just used to texting you right before I go to sleep.
Squirrel: You can text me any time, any place. But you know all you need to do is call out and I’ll be in there in two seconds, right?
Blythe: I know.
Blythe: Sawyer?
Squirrel: Yeah, baby?
Blythe: Thank you.
Squirrel: You’re welcome. Now go to sleep. I need to shower. ;)
Blythe: *eye roll* Stop talking about that.
Squirrel: What? I’m dirty. I need to get clean.
Blythe: When did our texting cross the line into sexual innuendos?
Squirrel: The second I saw you in that hospital bed and decided I wasn’t going to let you go. Sleep, woman.
Blythe’s stomach clenched at his reply, but the smile didn’t leave her face.
Blythe: Bossy.
Squirrel: Yup. You aren’t sleeping.
Blythe: Zzzzzzzzzzz
She clicked off the phone out of habit after she hit send. The battery was getting low, and she also didn’t want it vibrating while she was sleeping in case someone heard it and decided they wanted to steal—
Blythe blinked when she realized she didn’t need to worry about someone stealing her phone, or anything else while she was sleeping.
Because she was safe. In a house. With Sawyer in the other room.
Within moments, she was asleep.
After a shower, Squirrel slowly pushed open the door to the bedroom and saw Blythe asleep on the bed. He quietly walked over to her side and stood there, staring down at her. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her that she was safe, but he didn’t.
She needed time and he was going to give it to her, no matter how much it pained him.
As he’d sat in the other room, with only a wall separating them, texting her because it was her nighttime ritual, Squirrel came to the realization that he’d do anything for Blythe.
He’d scrolled through their text conversations from the past…and it hit him.
He admired her. Liked her. She was thoughtful, funny, smart.
And he loved her.
She wouldn’t believe him. Hell, his own friends would probably tell him he was crazy. That there was no way he could love a woman he’d seen a grand total of two times in his life. But he knew it was true. She’d reached down inside his chest and grabbed hold of his heart and wouldn’t let go.
He didn’t want her to let go.
Vowing to keep his newly discovered feelings to himself for as long as it took Blythe to get her life back on track, Squirrel took a deep breath and slowly, quietly backed out of the room.
He’d wait. As long as it took. But no way in hell was he leaving her alone. She’d have to get used to seeing him. Every time she turned around, he’d be there. Supporting her, cheering her on, loving her.
When the door snicked shut, Blythe’s eyes opened and she stared at where she knew Sawyer had been standing. What had he seen when he’d looked at her? What had he been thinking?
Blythe had woken the moment he’d opened the door. Living on the streets had made her hyper-aware to even the slightest sound. He’d showered, as he said he would. She could smell the clean, fresh scent of soap lingering in his wake. And all Blythe could think of was what he’d said he was going to do. Had he? Had he stroked himself thinking about her until he’d orgasmed?
The thought had her shifting on the bed. She was wet between her thighs again. And it felt so different, vulnerable, sleeping almost nude. Since she’d been living on the streets, she’d been sleeping in all of her clothes, just in case.
Blythe’s hand slipped down her body tentatively. Did she even remember how to get herself off? What if she couldn’t do it anymore?
&
nbsp; Her index finger touched her clit and she jolted, then bit back a moan.
As she reacquainted herself with her own body, Blythe thought about Sawyer. She remembered all of his words of support and the way he’d begged her to let him help her.
Her thoughts turned to how she’d felt when he’d stood behind her in the hospital, how big and strong he’d felt at her back.
Her fingers moved faster and faster between her legs, the pleasure rising like a tidal wave. She couldn’t remember ever coming this fast, but it had been a really long time since she’d felt any desire at all; she figured she was overdue.
Sighing in contentment after she’d come, Blythe gingerly turned onto her side, not even caring that it put pressure on one of her knife wounds. She was in an unfamiliar bed, it was dark, she was exhausted and in pain…but none of that seemed to matter. Not with Sawyer being just one yell away.
Chapter Seven
A week later, on the first night Sawyer had to be back at work, Blythe was sitting at the small kitchen table examining the classified ads in the paper. She needed to get a job but couldn’t seem to find anything that appealed. At least nothing she was qualified for. Then there was the matter of not having a car, of needing to open a bank account…but she had no money to open an account.
Everything seemed so complicated, but she was sick of being homeless. Of having to accept charity from her new friends. She wanted a job. Wanted to support herself again.
Sawyer had wanted to help her look for employment, but she hadn’t felt brave enough to tell him her entire story yet. She just wasn’t ready to talk about all the circumstances that had led her to being homeless. She was embarrassed, even if he told her time and time again that ending up on the streets was nothing to be ashamed about.
She’d get there. Blythe knew she’d eventually tell Sawyer everything. Every day she spent with him made her surer of that, but for now, he was giving her space and letting her try to figure things out on her own, which she appreciated.
What she wasn’t so sure about was sleeping in the house by herself. It was silly, really. But she hadn’t been alone in so long, it felt really weird to be so now. On the streets, there were always people around. In the sleeping room at the shelter, walking around, even sleeping under trash bins or in the park. Someone was always there.
Over the last week, Sawyer had spent as much time as possible with her, keeping his word to do what he could to make sure she wasn’t alone. They’d spent many evenings just chatting about nothing in particular. They’d played a few board games and watched TV together. One afternoon, they’d sat in silence while each was reading a book. She had a copy of a romance one of the other women had brought over and he was reading a western. It had been comfortable and so darn normal.
Even the other women had visited when Sawyer had been running errands. Adeline had come over with Coco, her service dog, and Blythe hadn’t laughed like she had with her in a long time. They’d tried to make some complicated meal for Sawyer when he got back, but it had failed miserably. Sophie had shown up another afternoon and they’d passed the time talking about what it was like dating a firefighter and Sophie told her as much as she could about Roman’s Native American heritage and all about the ceremony they’d participated in after the huge fire next to the hospital she worked at.
Driftwood and Taco had gone to the store and arrived with enough food to feed an army that first night and Sawyer made all of her favorite dishes…after he’d threatened to make her tofu or liver and onions if she didn’t tell him what she missed eating the most.
But now, for the first time since getting off the streets, she was utterly alone. Blythe had tried to turn on the radio to fill the empty space with music, but it had creeped her out because she couldn’t hear if someone was breaking into the house or sneaking up on her. It was ridiculous, because it wasn’t like Sophie’s house was in a crime-ridden area or anything, but old habits were hard to break.
The clothes Beth had ordered arrived the day after she’d gotten there. She’d gone way overboard, and Blythe had told Sawyer she was going to return most of them. He’d apparently tattled on her, and Beth had called about an hour later and told her that if she returned anything for any reason other than fit, Beth would only order more clothes.
In order to prevent the woman from buying out Macy’s, Blythe had acquiesced.
The wounds on her sides were healing nicely and didn’t hurt anymore. Her hand was still giving her problems, but Sawyer had been unwrapping it and treating it every night. Making sure it wasn’t infected and keeping his eye on the stitches. He’d explained that it would heal slower because of where the cut was and because it was a deeper wound. Blythe couldn’t deny the small thrill that shot through her body when he gently kissed the skin around the cut before wrapping it back up each night.
She could tell Sawyer was trying hard not to be bossy, but he still was. He forced her to take walks with him to get some fresh air when all she wanted to do was hide inside. He made her eat not only three meals a day, but small snacks in between as well. He researched the best foods for gaining weight in a healthy way and followed the recommendations of the experts to a tee.
But for some reason, his bossiness didn’t bother her. He wasn’t a dick about it, but he also wouldn’t budge when she protested. Deep down, Blythe knew why she wasn’t bothered by his persistence. First, it had been a long time since anyone had cared enough about her to make sure she ate healthy, got enough sleep, and wasn’t hurting. Second…he was becoming even more important to her. She liked him, a lot.
He had his quirks. He was a little too obsessed with the murder channel on television, was too quick with the self-depreciating jokes when he was around his friends, and he seemed to put others first too often. But none of those things were actually turnoffs.
The dichotomy that was Sawyer McClay was interesting. He was a firefighter and a paramedic, so he was brave and had no trouble rushing into burning buildings or climbing under a wrecked car to get to someone who was injured. But he seemed to have doubts about his own good looks and desirability to women.
Blythe could have assured him that he shouldn’t have any worries in that arena. But she could tell he was self-conscious about his glasses, and the fact he wasn’t as muscular as his friends. He’d made fun of himself more than once when Sophie and Chief had come over. Saying that he was Clark Kent while his friends were more like Superman.
It bothered Blythe, and she wanted to make him see himself as she saw him. As a hero. Her hero.
A loud knock on the door brought Blythe out of her musings and scared the shit out of her. Who in the world could be at the door? It was eight-thirty at night. Sawyer was at the station on his shift. And she didn’t know anyone else.
Walking silently on bare feet to the door, Blythe peeked out of the peephole and gasped in surprise. Moving quickly, she unlocked the bolt and opened the door.
Standing on the front porch was Sophie, Adeline and her dog, Beth and her dog, Quinn, and Penelope.
And the weirdest thing about the group wasn’t that they were here at all, but the tiny donkey that was standing next to Penelope.
“Hello,” Blythe said tentatively.
“Hi!” Adeline chirped happily. “We’re here for a girls-night-in party.”
“Um…” Blythe said, completely confused.
“Squirrel said it was your first night alone in the house, and he didn’t like that,” Penelope told her. “He arranged for us to come over and have a slumber party so you didn’t have to be alone.”
“I have to be alone at some point,” Blythe responded reasonably.
“Lucky for you, that’s not tonight. Now move, so we can come inside with all our shit,” Beth said.
Blythe loved how blunt the other woman was. She stepped back and watched as everyone came inside the small house with their bags. It took Adeline and Penelope an extra trip back to the car to get all of the things for their animals as well.
The
living room was stuffed full of people and animals by the time everyone got settled. Quinn was in the kitchen pouring drinks with Sophie, and that left Blythe with Adeline, Beth, Penelope, and their pets. “So…” She gestured to the dogs and donkey.
“Coco is my service dog. He detects seizures,” Adeline explained.
“You’re epileptic?” Blythe asked tentatively.
She nodded. “Yup. Although I had brain surgery not too long ago, and the number of seizures I have was reduced almost ninety percent. I still get them now and then, but nowhere like the two or three I was having a day.”
“Wow. How does he know?”
Adeline shrugged. “No clue. But he always seems to sense when one’s coming on. He gives me enough time to get somewhere safe where I won’t get hurt when I seize.”
“Cool. And your dog?” Blythe asked Beth. The other woman was sitting in a corner of the couch, her dog lying next to her, his head in her lap.
“His name is Second. Like, for second chance. Both for him and me. One of our other friends, Laine, found his mom and brothers and sisters at an old farm that was for sale. His mom saved Laine, and she saved them in return. I have agoraphobia, PTSD, and anxiety. He helps me to not be such a freak when I leave the house.” Beth petted Second’s head lovingly.
“I’m sorry,” Blythe said softly.
Beth shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m good. I’m sure you’ll hear my story eventually, but basically, I’m very lucky to be alive. I can deal with all the other shit because of that fact.”
Blythe moved so she could reach the other woman and put her hand over her foot. “Are you okay?”
Beth smiled at her. “Yeah. After…what I’d been through, I thought my life was ruined forever. And I did look at it that way, for a really long time. But then I met Cade and realized that my life is what I make of it. I could live in the past and be bitter and angry forever, but what would that get me? So, with Second’s help, I’m trying to live every day like it’s the best day of my life.”