by Addison Cole
“I’m so sorry, Sky.” He’d felt so empty without her for the past two days that having her in his arms brought tears to his eyes. “I was in denial about the doctor’s warning. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was keeping it from myself. It’s just that you were a part of me, so you got caught in the crossfire. I’m so sorry.”
She drew back and opened her mouth, but her voice was silenced by sobs. He swallowed hard against the ache in his heart and held her close again, until they both calmed enough to look at each other without breaking down. She took a step back and crossed her arms, creating a barrier he wanted to burst through. But he knew there was no bursting. They were still straddling a great divide, and they needed to talk.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she wiped her tears. “You’re selling your house.”
“Yes, I am. How do you know that?”
“I drove by looking for you.” Fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “Gosh, Sawyer, don’t you ever check your phone?”
Given how many of his calls to her had gone unanswered, he could have responded with, Don’t you? But what good would that do? “My phone is in my car over by the laundry building.”
She looked across the quad at the building.
“Sky, I have no right to ask anything of you, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from our relationship, it’s that following my heart has always been the right thing to do.” He stepped closer and handed her the notebook he’d brought with him. She stared down at it without accepting it.
“I don’t have much left. And no matter where we go from here, I want you to have this.” He set the notebook in her hands. “These are my songs. All of them, including yours. You believed in me, and in them, and I want you to have them.”
“Sawyer—”
“They’re yours. I have all I need right here.” He touched his chest over his heart. “I’m no longer the man who walked into your shop asking for a tattoo. I have no career, and my house is under contract, which means I’m homeless, at least at the moment. Where I’ll go from here is up in the air. I can train with Brock, write with my father, or move away and start over.”
Her lower lip trembled as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I don’t have much to offer you, but if you’ll give this broken-down ex-boxer another chance at doing things right, I promise I’ll never let you down.”
“You…” Her hands dropped limply to her sides. “You’re no longer a boxer? I don’t understand.”
“I quit. I’m not fighting anymore. I want to be in one piece for us, Sky. I want a future with you. A family. A life.”
“But your dad?” She reached for his hand, and he was so thankful for her touch that his eyes filled with tears again, too.
“The sale of the house will cover his medical expenses forever. Who knew that over the last few years bay-front property had doubled in value?”
“But it’s your family’s legacy.” Her voice was fraying as she stepped closer to him.
“Yes. That was their legacy. But it’s not mine. It won’t mean anything without you by my side. I can never look at that house again without seeing you standing in the skycap or lying with me on the pillows. Or laughing with me on the dunes. I know I have nothing to offer you, and you could find a guy who’s got a job, and a house, and so much more than what I have to offer.” The truth hurt like a bullet through his chest.
“But you’re wrong, Sawyer. I loved you despite your job, not for it. You have the only thing I want—your heart.”
“Do you mean that? You’d take me back even though I’m homeless—”
“I have an apartment.” She stepped closer, bringing their thighs together.
“Jobless?”
“I have a job.” She wound her arms around his neck, and his heart skipped a beat.
“An idiot for taking two days to figure it out?”
He folded her into his arms, and she answered in a whisper against his lips, “You’re my idiot.”
“Sky,” was all he could manage as he was bowled over with emotions.
“Kiss me, Sawyer.”
She didn’t need to ask twice. Their tears mixed and mingled on their cheeks, and when she whispered, “Carry me inside. If I’m going to be your sugar mama, I plan on using my power for all sorts of sexual favors,” he was sure he’d found heaven.
Epilogue
Six weeks later…
SKY GLANCED UP from the tattoo she was creating on Cree’s shoulder at her brother Matt and her father as they looked over her artwork. She’d missed seeing them both and was glad they’d come for the grand opening. Matt picked up her poetry book and sat down to read it. It didn’t surprise her that he’d ignore the music and the people milling about and bury his nose in a book. Sky was about to call him over when Lizzie and a dark-haired girl came into the shop. Lizzie hugged Sky’s father, and the girl she was with struck up a conversation with Matt.
She looked back down at the tattoo she was doing and then took a second to glance up at Sawyer, who was sitting on the front stoop beside Marcus, Lizzie, Amy, and Tony, while he sang one of the songs he’d written since they’d moved in together in the apartment above the shop. What Sawyer hadn’t told Sky the night he’d come to see her after the hospital visit was that Tony and Amy had been the ones to put an offer down on his beach house. He’d come to Seaside looking for her that morning after meeting with the real estate agent, and the agent had called him later with the offer. Apparently he hadn’t wanted to mention it was Tony and Amy because he didn’t want her to feel pressured by the connection. Sky was happy for Tony and Amy, and she knew they’d start their own family traditions in the lovely home. Sawyer had made enough money from the sale to provide for his father’s future and also to buy a little cottage somewhere. But neither Sky nor Sawyer was in a hurry to move out of their cozy apartment. They’d toyed with buying Amy and Tony’s extra cottage, and they might one day do that, but for now they wanted to enjoy being settled in their own place for a while.
Sawyer was working as a trainer at the club with Brock, and he and his father had begun writing together. His father’s editor was so stoked about the collaboration that he’d already made them a six-figure offer. This was Sky’s third clue that the universe was stepping in this summer to help guide her and Sawyer. The first clue, of course, was that they’d met in the first place, and the second was that they’d found their way back to each other.
Sky turned her attention back to putting the finishing touches on Cree’s tattoo as Sawyer’s parents came into the shop, accompanied by the private nurse Sawyer had hired for them. Maria was in her midtwenties, and she and Sky had already become close. Maria pushed Sawyer’s father’s wheelchair across the floor with ease and waved to Sky. Sky smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ll be done in a minute,” then finished up the tattoo.
“I haven’t found any more of those poems around lately,” Cree said.
“The P-town poet must be busy these days.” She glanced at Sawyer again as he set his guitar aside and reached for Hannah, Amy and Tony’s two-week-old baby girl. Bella had given birth the day before yesterday to baby Summer and had to miss the grand opening.
Sawyer met Sky’s gaze and smiled. Lifting the baby, he mouthed, Want one? She laughed and mouthed back, Not yet. They were having way too much fun practicing making babies to settle down and have one yet.
Grayson walked into the shop with Kurt and Jamie. Jamie and Jessica and Jamie’s grandmother, Vera, had finally arrived last week. The Seaside gang had celebrated with a barbecue and ended up celebrating far more than Jamie, Jessica, and Vera’s return to the Cape. Both Jessica and Leanna had announced their pregnancies that evening. Apparently they’d both thought they were just exhausted from working too much, but their doctors had confirmed that they were both pregnant. The universe had stepped in once again, in the summer that Sky would forever remember as the summer of miracles.
Matt rose and embraced each of the guys,
then said something to Lizzie and her friend and walked out the front door with the girls. Grayson and the guys walked through the shop toward Sky.
“Matt’s going to check out something over at Lizzie’s with some hot chick,” Grayson said.
“I’m sure she has a name,” Sky teased.
Cree rose off the seat, and Grayson’s eyes took a slow stroll down her body. Sky nudged him with a tsk! on her way to the cash register.
“Hi, Kurt. Hi, Jamie. Are you guys having fun?” she asked as she rang up Cree’s tattoo and saw Grayson elbow Hunter, who was busy checking out Jana and Harper. Sky never did follow up on what had happened between the two of them, but there was no doubt something had gone on, because every time Hunter caught Jana’s eye, she sneered at him. Better to leave that up to the universe, too.
“Yes,” Jamie said. “This has been fun. It’s so good to finally be back at the Cape. Vera, Jess, and Leanna went window-shopping.”
“Probably for baby clothes,” Sky said. Then she hugged Cree goodbye and turned to Kurt. “Ready for a new tat?”
Kurt held his palms up. “I’ve got enough, thanks.”
Sky hugged Sawyer’s parents and Maria as Sawyer joined them and drew Sky into his arms.
“Do you have time to do one more tattoo?” Sawyer asked.
“What did you have in mind?” She loved how close they’d become. She’d thought they were close before moving in together, but living in a five-hundred-square-foot apartment brought close to a whole new level. Sawyer had created all sorts of pillow beds for Merlin in the corners of the apartment, and he’d chosen the balcony above the shop as his new writing spot. Sometimes after Sky fell asleep, she knew he went out there to pen a song. In the morning she’d wake up and find slips of paper in the basket by the bed—verses of songs Sawyer had written just for her.
He handed her a piece of paper on which he’d written, S.B. + S.L.
Her heart squeezed. “What is this?”
“My ancestors carved their initials into rafters, but houses come and go and skin is forever.”
“Sawyer,” she said as she went up on her toes and kissed him. “I want this tattooed on me, too.”
“We can make those initials S.B + S.B. if you’ll marry me.”
Sky searched his eyes, her pulse racing, unsure if she’d heard him right, or if he was kidding. He dropped to one knee in front of her family, friends, and a handful of customers milling around the shop and smiled up at her with love in his eyes.
“You are my wind, I am your rain. You are my sun, I am your earth. I wrestled your demons, sweet summer Sky, and you slayed my truths and showed me the way to our future. We’re no longer two wild hearts drifting on a cloud. Let’s become one, tethered and bound. Marry me, Sky, and I promise to always be whatever you need.”
Sky’s legs turned to Jell-O as she sank to her knees and did the only thing she could manage—she nodded.
Sawyer pulled a ring from his pocket and held her trembling hand as he slid it onto her left ring finger. “This was my grandmother’s ring. She once told me that when I felt lost, to look to the sky and I’d find my way. I think she knew you were out there waiting for me.”
And as their lips came together and her friends awwed and clapped, Sky closed her eyes and sent a silent thank-you to the universe—for coming through for them yet again. Maybe life really was that easy, and that complicated.
Want to know more about Sky’s friends Blue & Lizzie?
Please enjoy this sneak peek of their love story,
Seized by Love at Seaside
THERE WERE SOME nights when Lizzie Barber simply didn’t feel like donning an apron, black-framed glasses, and high heels, covering her shiny brunette locks with a blond wig, and prancing around nearly naked. Tonight was one of those nights. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror of her basement bathroom, Lizzie tucked the last few strands of her hair beneath the wig and forced her very best smile. Thank goodness her elfin lips naturally curled up at the edges—even when she wasn’t smiling, she looked like she was. And tonight she definitely wasn’t in the mood to smile. Her oven had been acting up for the last few nights, and she prayed to the gods of all things sugary and sweet that it would behave tonight.
Tightening the apron tie around her neck and the one around her waist, to avoid wardrobe malfunctions, and tugging on the hem of the apron to ensure her skin-colored thong and all her naughty bits were covered, she went into the studio—aka the miniscule kitchen located in the basement of her cute Cape Cod cottage—and surveyed her baking accoutrements one last time before queuing the intro music for her webcast and pasting that perfectly perky smile back in place.
“Welcome back, my hot and hunky bakers,” she purred into the camera. “Today we’re going to bake delicious angel food cupcakes with fluffy frosting that will make your mouth water.” She leaned forward, flashing the camera an eyeful of cleavage and her most seductive smile as she crooked her finger in a come-hither fashion. “And because we all know it’s what’s beneath all that delicious frosting that counts, we’re going to sprinkle a few surprises inside the thick, creamy centers.”
Lizzie had mastered making baking sound naughty while in college, when her father had taken ill and her parents had closed their inn for six months to focus on his medical care, leaving Lizzie without college tuition. Her part-time job at a florist shop hadn’t done a darn thing for her mounting school loans, and when a friend suggested she try making videos and monetizing them to earn fast cash, she drew upon her passion for baking and secretly put on a webcast called Cooking with Coeds. It turned out that scantily clad baking was a real money earner. She’d paid for her books and meal plan that way, and eventually earned enough to pay for most of her college tuition. Lizzie had two passions in life—baking and flowers, and she’d hoped to open her own floral shop after college. After graduation, Cooking with Coeds became the Naked Baker webcast, and she’d made enough money to finish paying off her school loans and open a flower shop in Provincetown, Massachusetts, just like she’d always dreamed of. She hadn’t intended to continue the Naked Baker after opening P-town Petals, but when her parents fell upon hard times again and her younger sister Maddy’s educational fund disappeared, the Naked Baker webcast became Lizzie’s contribution to Maddy’s education. Their very conservative parents would have a conniption fit if they knew what their proper little girl was doing behind closed doors, but what other choice did she have? Her parents ran a small bed-and-breakfast in Brewster, Massachusetts, and with her father’s health ping-ponging, they barely earned enough money to make ends meet—and affording college for a child who had come as a surprise to them seven years after Lizzie was born had proven difficult.
Lizzie narrowed her eyes seductively as she gazed into the camera and stirred the batter. She dipped her finger into the rich, creamy goodness and put that finger into her mouth, making a sensual show of sucking it off. “Mm-mm. Nothing better than thick, creamy batter.” Her tongue swept over her lower lip as she ran through the motions of creating what she’d come to think of as baking porn.
During the filming of each show, she reminded herself often of why she was still doing something that she felt ashamed of and kept secret. There was no way she was going to let her sweet nineteen-year-old sister fend for herself and end up doing who knew what to earn money like she did instead of focusing on her studies. Or worse, drop out of school. Madison was about as innocent as they came, and while Lizzie might once have been that innocent, her determination to succeed, and life circumstances, had beaten it out of her. Creating the webcast was the best decision she’d ever made—even if it meant putting her nonexistent social life on hold and living a secret life after dark. The blond wig and thick-framed spectacles helped to hide her online persona, or at least they seemed to. No one had ever accused her of being the Naked Baker. Then again, her assumption was that the freaky people who got off watching her prance around in an apron and heels probably rarely left their own basements.
/> She was proud of helping Maddy. She felt like she was taking one for the team. Going where no girl should ever have to go. Braving the wild naked baking arena for the betterment of the sister she cherished.
A while later, as Lizzie checked the cupcakes and realized that while the oven was still warm, it had turned off—her stomach sank. Hiding her worries behind another forced smile and a wink, she stuck her butt out and bent over to quickly remove the tray of cupcakes from the oven, knowing the angle of the camera would give only a side view and none of her bare butt would actually be visible. Thankfully, the oven must have just died, because the cupcakes were firm enough to frost.
Emergency reshoot avoided!
Smile genuine!
A few minutes later she sprinkled the last of the coconut on the cupcakes, narrating as she went.
“Everyone wants a little something extra on top, and I’m going to give it to you good.” Giving one last wink to the camera, she said, “Until next week, this is your Naked Baker signing off for a sweet, seductive night of tantalizing tasting.”
She clicked the remote and turned off the camera. Eyeing the fresh daisies she’d brought home from her flower shop, she leaned her forearms on the counter, and with a heavy sigh, she let her head fall forward. It was after midnight, and she had to be up bright and early to open the shop. Tomorrow night she’d edit the webcast so it would be ready in time to air the following night—and she needed to get her oven fixed.
Stupid thing.
Kicking off her heels, Lizzie went upstairs, stripped out of the apron, and wrapped a thick towel around herself. A warm shower was just what she needed to wash away the film of shame left on her skin after taping the webcast. Thinking of the broken oven, she texted her friend Blue Ryder to see if he could fix it. Blue was a highly sought after craftsman who worked for the Kennedys and other prominent families around the Cape. When Lizzie’s pipe had burst under the sink in the bathroom above the first-floor kitchen while she was away at a floral convention for the weekend, Blue was only too happy to put aside time to handle the renovations. He was like that. Always making time to help others. He was still splitting his time between working on her kitchen renovations and working on the cottage he’d just purchased. He was working at his cottage tomorrow, but she hoped he could fit her in at some point.