by Tia Louise
“That’s what everybody keeps telling me.” I return my thoughts to now. “He hasn’t said a word to me about it.”
“Well…” She sits down, putting a mug in front of me. “You can be a real grump sometimes.”
I chuckle as I take a sip. “It’s never stopped you.”
“That’s because I know your bark is worse than your bite.”
“Humph.” I stand, walking over to the window above the sink and looking out at the sun rising higher over trees loaded with peaches.
It’s already so damn hot, and it’s not even eight.
I wonder if Mindy will be in the rows today working on her poster. She’s so pretty when she’s drawing or painting. Her brow furrows, and her full lips press together. Her green eyes seem to glow…
“Speaking of…” Noel puts her mug in the sink beside me. “Why were you so pissed last night?”
“I wasn’t pissed.”
“Oh, really?” She slants her eyes as she pulls out the carton of eggs.
“I was hungry… I was tired from working all day.” I’ll be damned if I’m going to say I wanted to punch Deacon in the nose.
“Well, you do seem to be in a better mood this morning.”
“What was that five-year plan all about?”
She starts cracking eggs into a glass bowl. “Just, you know… business stuff. Saving for Dove’s college, retirement…”
“I need to make sure you’re in line to take over this place. If anything were to happen to me—”
“Which it never will.” She returns the carton to the refrigerator and takes out cheese, cream. “Deacon’s really good with that stuff if you want him to look over anything for you.”
That’s about the last thing I’m in the mood to do. “I can take care of it.” Putting my mug in the sink, I start for the door. “Tell Taron I’m checking the new trees in the back forty.”
“And Leon!”
I don’t stop, and she yells something about me being stubborn as a horse’s rear end. I’ve got more important things on my mind at the moment.
9
Mindy
The small, brown brush touches the thick, cream paper, and a bubble of russet paint spreads into the space I’ve allowed for her hair. I’ve sketched out a woman propped on her elbow over a man lying on his back in a bed of what will eventually be deep green.
A lock of hair falls over her shoulder as she gazes down with so much love in her eyes. His dark hair is messy, and his hand is on her neck, holding her, finally admitting with his body what he still hasn’t said with his lips…
The brown tries to escape, and I exhale a little swear, touching the page gently with a paper towel. Watercolor is an unforgiving medium, and I have to stay focused, not let my mind drift to Sawyer.
The way he showed up at my window last night was so hot. His eyes were desperate and angry, and his jaw tightened… I grin, lifting my chin and smiling at the sunshine. He’s so damn sexy when he wants me.
Chewing my lip, my cheeks heat as I remember Sawyer’s hands on my ass, gripping me, his rough lips bruising mine as he kissed me. I shift in my seat, and I feel the memory of him inside me. It sends energy racing through my stomach.
My heart belongs to this man so completely. How can he not know my body does, too? How can he stay away? Every time we’re together, it’s like slipping into our own private paradise. I never want to leave. I see my future…
“I wondered if you’d be out here.” Sawyer’s voice jumps me out of my daydream.
He’s standing by one of the peach trees, looking at me with those eyes. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive.
“Don’t move.” I grab my phone, quickly opening the camera app.
“What are you doing?” He starts to move, but I hold up a hand.
“Stop!” I touch the red dot, taking several photos.
He’s sun-drenched and gorgeous, surrounded by tree leaves and a warm golden glow. Sliding my finger over the phone face, I go back to make sure I got it. The intensity of his gaze, the warmth of the sunshine. It’s perfect.
“Why are you taking pictures of me?” He’s closer now, and I look up to see the smallest grin curling his lips.
“You’re my inspiration.”
“For what?”
Everything… “This year’s poster.”
I open the photo app, and step closer to show him. He’s so close, all hot and sweaty. He’s a hard-working man, and his scent floods my senses, tingling my insides.
He looks down at the pictures I took, and when I look at them, I have to suppress a swoon. I got it all—his dark smolder, the way his hazel eyes brim with desire when he looks at me. Am I imagining it?
“You’re not putting me on your poster.” He steps back, hands on his hips.
“I’m doing a watercolor this year, so your features won’t be precise. Nobody will know it’s you.”
“I’ll know.”
“You’ll know because I told you…”
“Can I see what you’ve done so far?”
My shoulders tense. “I’ll show it to you when it’s ready. Not right now.”
I move the sketchbook behind me. I don’t want to show him what I was working on, and I can’t really turn the page just yet. The paint is still wet.
He steps around me, catching the book. “Let me see…”
“Sawyer!” I try to take it from him, but he turns his back to me, blocking my reach.
“Hmm… I’m not sure this will pass the general audience test.”
“I’m not sending that one to the Grower’s Association.”
Before I have a chance to register, he pivots, catching me around the waist and pulling me hard against his chest. My breath disappears as his lips seal over mine, full and warm. He opens my mouth, and salt is on my tongue.
It’s so unexpected, but I want it. I grasp his shoulders, not hesitating to pull him closer, kissing him deeper, hungry for more. I love the feel of his strong arms around me. I love that I’m only wearing a thin dress, so the heat of his body imprints on mine.
My insides burn with desire. I want him to lay me down and take me right here in the middle of the orchard.
Instead, he lifts his face and smiles. “You’re so talented.”
My cheeks flush, and when he releases me, I have a hard time finding my balance again. “You seem really happy today.”
“I slept better than I have in a while last night.”
“Oh really? What do you think made the difference?”
“I think you have a better mattress than I do.”
“Sawyer!”
He laughs, and I start to laugh, too. It’s so perfect. Just how I want it to be between us—with a lot more sex.
He passes the sketchbook to me again. “Are you hungry? It’s lunchtime.”
“Oh, I have an idea.” Gathering my things, I catch his hand. “Come with me.”
Burgers n Suds has been in the middle of Harristown for generations, and the old-school frosty mug sign adorned with neon lights is a landmark. It’s not even a real restaurant, just a shack with glass windows and picnic tables on the side. Patrons park and walk to the window to order and either eat on the premises or take the food with them.
“I haven’t been here in ages. Do they still have the best burgers in town?” Sawyer climbing out of my gold Prius makes me grin.
He’s way more suited to the old red Chevy or his newer Silverado, but I’m not complaining.
“You’ll have to let me know. Mr. Comeaux retired a few years back, but they say he left his secret recipe behind.”
“Not so secret anymore?”
We’re walking to the window, and I notice a small cluster of women sitting around one of the picnic tables. My throat tightens when I recognize Beth Hebert and Elizabeth Haynes McMillan among them. To my dismay, they notice me at the same time.
“Mindy! Hey, girl, how’s it going?” Elizabeth rises and walks over to where I’m standing, waiting for Sawyer to fini
sh ordering.
“I’m okay.” I look down, wondering why this woman still has the power to make me feel small.
“What do we have to expect for this year’s poster? I really loved the still life you did last year.”
“Can I get you something?” Sawyer steps up beside me. “Cheeseburger? Fries?”
“I’m not feeling so hungry anymore.” I look up at him, and he frowns.
“Why Sawyer LaGrange, aren’t you just as handsome as always.” Elizabeth actually twirls the side of her hair.
“Hey, Liz.” Sawyer’s voice is dismissive. “How’s Pat doing?”
“Same as always.” She blinks up at him, and I want to kick her in the shins.
First, she’s married, and second, is she really flirting with Sawyer right in front of me?
Not that anyone knows about us…
“You don’t want anything?” He frowns down at me, and I shake my head.
“I’ll just wait in the car.”
“Hey, Mindy!” Beth jogs up beside her friend. “Where’s Deacon?”
She’s always asking about him. “Probably in his office.”
“Is that Sawyer LaGrange you’re with? Lord, I haven’t seen him outside the peach orchard in ages.” She looks at me, and I feel my cheeks heat. “Is something going on between you two?”
“Well, I declare.” Elizabeth looks me up and down. “No wonder you get that peach poster every year. Cozying up with the biggest orchard in the county—”
“It’s not like that at all!” The Peach Festival poster isn’t a big deal, but suggesting I’d use Sawyer to get the job offends me.
Beth shakes her head like it’s a foregone conclusion. “I don’t know why I didn’t put that together before now.”
“Put what together?” Sawyer walks up holding a cone of chocolate-vanilla swirl soft serve ice cream. “Here. I know you love ice cream.”
I take it from him, but my throat is so tight, I’ll never be able to choke it down. Still, I try giving it a little lick.
“Beth and Elizabeth think you help me get the poster commission every year.”
He leans back and laughs. “I don’t know shit about art… Other than Mindy’s work is really good.” He gives me a wink. “Andre Caron wouldn’t give two cents for my opinion. He recognizes talent.”
“And big money.” Beth’s voice is just above a murmur as she walks back to the picnic tables.
Elizabeth runs her finger along the top of Sawyer’s sleeve. “Why don’t you ever come by the house and visit Pat?”
“We’re pretty busy with harvest.” I appreciate him stepping away, making his tone more serious.
“Harvest is so punishing. I guess that’s how you keep such an amazing physique year after year…”
“I think your order’s ready.” I nod toward the window, and Sawyer steps around me.
“I’ll meet you in the car.” He says, turning his head to me. “See you later, Liz. Tell Pat I said Hi.”
Driving back to the farm, the aroma of really good burger surrounds us. I dumped the ice cream in the garbage as it started to melt everywhere. Now I’m doing my best to shake off that chance encounter with the adolescent mean girls.
Sawyer looks out the window, quiet as always. “I guess I missed out on all of that kind of stuff growing up.”
“You didn’t miss much.”
“It seemed like you were pretty tight with them in high school. Like they finally let you in.”
“Looked like it, didn’t it?” He studies me, his dark brow lowered, and I glance out the window. “I thought we were friends, then I’d find out they all took a trip to Gulf Shores and didn’t invite me. They’d post BFF pictures all over social media.”
Loneliness aches in my stomach, and it’s like I’m right back in eleventh grade, looking at their pictures and wondering why I was left out. I’m amazed these old wounds still hurt so much.
Blinking down a tear hits my cheek, and I shove it away hard. “God, I’m such a dork. You had real problems growing up. I just had stupid girl shit to worry about.”
His warm hand covers mine, and we’re quiet as we pull into the yard. I don’t kill the engine. I’m ready to go home, when he reaches over and turns it off.
“What are you doing?” I look up at him.
“Come on.” He gets out, slipping my keys into the front of his jeans.
“Sawyer…” I stand out of the car. “I’d better get on back. I need to get serious about this year’s poster or Andre is going to be pissed.”
“I said come on.”
I watch as he drops the brown paper bag in the rack on the front of the three-wheeler and throws a leg over the seat. One push and it roars to life. He sits on the black leather seat looking at me, waiting.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere so long as my keys are in your pocket.”
I walk over and climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek against his shoulder. His body is warm against mine, his strength melting away the cattiness. I close my eyes and let the hot wind push my hair back, blowing the bad memories out of my mind like carbon off an engine.
We bounce over the small ruts and hills, until finally he slows to a stop. I lift my head and see he’s driven us out to the pond. A quick dismount, and he reaches out, taking my hand as I climb off the seat.
I thread our fingers together as we walk the short distance, up the small rise to where the pier stretches out over the water. It’s like he’s my real boyfriend. It’s how I’ve always wanted him to be.
He leads me down the wooden planks, pausing to toe off his boots. I do the same, and we sit side by side, our legs hanging off the end, toes dipping in the water. He takes out his hamburger and breaks it in half, handing me one side while he takes a big bite of the other.
“Damn.” He shakes his head. “I think it’s still the best burger in town.”
I take a bite, and the rich, perfectly cooked meat with the peppery tang fills my mouth. “What is that? Vinegar? Mustard? It’s more than just black pepper.”
“Some mixture of spices, I’m sure.”
We sit for a minute, chewing quietly as we watch the fountain spray water in an arc. A fine mist coats our skin, breaking the punishing heat of the sun. I wonder if I should’ve applied sunscreen, like everybody’s always saying. I wasn’t expecting to be out here with him.
“You know what I think?” He hands me a fry and pops one in his mouth. “I think you should stop trying to fit into a square hole.”
Pulling my brows together, I consider this. “I don’t know. I just wanted to be part of a group. I wanted to have people proud to be my friend, posting pictures of us together all over social media and stuff…” Then I laugh, hearing it out loud. “I’m so dumb.”
“You’re not dumb.” He thinks about this a beat. “Somebody said success is the best revenge… But I don’t know. I think revenge sounds vindictive. Maybe success is the best medicine.”
He gets quiet, but I want to know more. Sawyer has always listened to me. He’s always taken me seriously, even when I was eleven years old, crying about my frizzy hair.
“Medicine for me or them?”
“You.” He elbows my side. “They might never see your worth, but accomplishing your goals helps you see your value.”
I study his profile, the muscle moving in his square jaw as he chews. I really love this guy.
“Oprah says you should turn your wounds into wisdom.”
He nods. “I like that.”
“You’ve always done it. You make it look so easy.”
His chin drops and he shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”
His words bother me. Sawyer has always been sure about everything. When we were kids, life hit him with the hardest blow imaginable, and he manned up. He shook off the dust, picked up his little brother and sister, and kept walking.
Ever since he came back from the Marines, though, he’s been different. He was always quiet, but now h
e seems shaken, like he’s not so sure anymore. I want to ask why, but I want him to come to me on his own.
I’m thinking these things when he looks over at me, giving me a warm smile. “You’re part of our group. Here…” Shifting to the side, he fishes out a phone I almost never see him use and holds it up. “Take a selfie with me.”
My face heats, and I feel tears burning my eyes again. “You don’t know how to take a selfie.”
“How hard can it be?” He puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his chest, resting his cheek against mine. “Say cheese.”
“You don’t say cheese in selfies. You make duck lips.”
“I’m not doing that. Say cheese.” He taps the button then pulls the phone down, looking at the face. “That’s pretty good. Here.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see he’s texted the picture to me. I open it, and I’m caught off guard. It’s actually a really good picture of us. Sawyer’s arm is around me, and my eyes are wide and happy. My hair spills over one shoulder, and he’s winking, giving the camera a cocky grin like the sex god he is.
“Congrats,” I laugh. “You’re a natural.”
“Now how do I blast it all over social media?”
“Are you on Facebook?”
“Ahh… no.”
“Instagram?”
His eyes narrow, and I shake my head with a light laugh. I can’t help thinking the best people aren’t on social media.
He stuffs our trash in the paper bag and moves it away, turning to face me. “Look at me.” I do as he says. Our legs are crossed, and he catches my cheeks in his hands. “I told you a long time ago you can talk to me.”
I put my hands over his, blinking and nodding. “Okay.”
“I don’t have any trips to the beach planned, but I want to go sailing one day.”
“Do you know how to sail?”
“A little. Marines are a branch of the Navy, you know.”
Is there anything this man can’t do? “You need a boat.”
He grins, and the light shining in his eyes is so pretty. “Minor hurdle.”
Warmth squeezes my chest, and our smiles collide as his warm lips cover mine, pushing them apart. Our tongues curl together, and my insides melt. The arches of my feet melt. My hands slide along his firm arms, and I let his kiss take away all my sadness. It feels so good. I want so much more. I want everything.