Deuce of Hearts

by Lyssa Layne

  CHAPTER 4

  Garrison

  Sweat runs down my neck as I walk up Sawyer’s driveway. I forgot how humid Missouri can be, even in early summer. I pull my white t-shirt away from my skin, trying to let the small breeze blow through but it doesn’t help. Hopefully this giant Suburban has air conditioning or it’s going to be a long ride to Kirksville which is about an hour away.

  Walking up the front porch stairs, I can hear Ed Sheeran’s song Don’t playing loudly from inside the house. I knock on the door, knowing no one will be able to hear me over the volume of the music, but at least I can say I tried. Waiting a few seconds, I walk over to the front window and see Sawyer dancing along with the music. Her body twists and moves as though she’s dancing with an imaginary partner. Her long dark hair is gone from the day before, braided around her head and pinned up with what I imagine takes a thousand bobby pins. Red capri-length leggings with ribbons that wrap around her calves like ballet slippers cling to her body while a she wears a plain black crop top exposing her taut tummy on top.

  My body begins to react to what I’m seeing and I adjust myself accordingly before pushing open the door and letting myself in. I shake my head, disappointed in myself for responding the way I am. I have strong self-control and I am a disciplined man, both from my upbringing and my current job. No woman should have the kind of effect on me that Sawyer Kingham just did by simply watching her dance. Continuing to degrade myself in my mind, I only realize that I’ve walked straight through Sawyer’s dance space when her body crashes into mine. Holding her against my body so she doesn’t fall, far too closely, I extend my arms to put some space between us but it’s too late, I can feel myself stirring underneath my jeans.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Sawyer yells at me and gives me a sturdy shove although I don’t budge since I’m twice her size.

  “I knocked,” I shout over the music and point to her phone that’s plugged into a docking station.

  Sawyer stomps over to it, turning it off abruptly. “You told me to pick you up in an hour.” She looks at her phone. “I have ten minutes.”

  I scoff at her objection, knowing she was never going to be on time. “I thought you were busy, had important things to do.”

  She crosses her arms, her face turning red. “I… I do…”

  “Like dancing?” I raise an eyebrow, loving that I’m making her squirm.

  Her hands move to her hips and she puffs out her chest confidently, not doing anything to help my body’s reaction to her. “Actually, yes. I’m a dancer.”

  I narrow my eyes. “A dancer? I thought dancers were on the pom pon squad in high school… you’re out of high school, right?”

  Sawyer shakes her head, bending over to get her phone and I stifle my moan that comes from the sight of her bending over in those tight pants. Dammit, my body is betraying myself right now and I really don’t have time for this.

  “Small town, small mind. That’s why I left this place.” She stands up and juts her hip, throwing in some attitude to get her point across.

  I hold up my hands in surrender. “Sorry, I obviously offended you but I’m not familiar with what a professional dancer does other than…”

  “Ugh,” she mutters, walking around me.

  I grab her wrist as she does, not letting her go anywhere. “What happened to your head?” I reach out and touch the small goose egg on her forehead.

  Sawyer winces slightly and pulls away, trying to push my hand away as well. “I got tangled up in the sheets and fell out of bed.”

  I quirk an eyebrow, curious who she got tangled up in bed with.

  Sawyer pulls her wrist away and shakes her head, letting out an exasperated exhale. She walks off toward the kitchen, calling after me. “Whatever, think what you want. I’m fine.”

  I sigh, remembering that I promised Cuzzo I’d be nice and here I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth twice already. Come on, Garrison, you can do this. Women have never been my strong point. Well, once upon a time they were until I realized they cause more harm than good. I need to get my shit together or I’ll seriously be without a ride which will make for a long three weeks in No Man’s Land.

  Sawyer

  Digging through my suitcase that’s still sitting in the middle of the kitchen, I shake my head, appalled that I ever thought that man in the other room was remotely attractive. In the five minutes that we’ve been in the same area, he’s already insulted me twice. Then again, I usually fall for assholes so why is this any different. Maybe that’s why my mom didn’t tell my dad about me, maybe it’s hereditary that we fall for guys that suck.

  “Look, Sawyer, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  I look up and see Garrison leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. His shoulders are tight under his damp white t-shirt, which I should be grossed out by but it’s actually kind of a turn on. He’s looking at the ground where his black combat boots are planted firmly on the kitchen floor. Obviously, he’s uncomfortable with his apology although he seems sincere in his words. My insides go gooey and I hate myself for always liking the bad guy.

  “Yeah, whatever, it’s fine,” I mumble nonchalantly and shrug my shoulders. I’m still digging for a shirt as I feel half-naked in this crop top since he’s wearing jeans and I feel like I’m in next to nothing. I refuse to turn on the air conditioner though as that’ll only rack up more bills of my mother’s that I’m required to pay along with Garrison’s new bike.

  “No, it’s not. I’m an ass. I blame it on my work so please accept my apology.”

  I look over and Garrison is staring straight into my soul. Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme but that’s what it feels like. His dark eyes look directly into mine, piercing them and as if I wasn’t already mushy inside already, his gaze makes me weak in the knees. He’s holding his hand out in a peace offering and I’m afraid if I touch him, I might fall to the ground.

  I’m still searching for a shirt and in an effort to avoid his hand, I yank out the first piece of material I touch. I hold it up in the air victoriously only to want to be sucked into the middle of the Earth as soon as I realize it’s a pair of underwear. Hoping he doesn’t recognize what they are, I shove them back in the suitcase and stand up.

  “What do you do, for work?” I ask, burying the lingerie in the bottom of the bag.

  He shrugs. “Work with a bunch of guys so none of us have any sort of manners. We just blurt out what we’re thinking.”

  I roll my wrist, trying to urge him along. “Okay, I got that, but what is it that you do?” Geez, it’s like pulling teeth with this guy.

  “Military.”

  I raise my eyebrows, waiting for more information.

  Garrison sighs. “I’m a fighter pilot for the Navy.”

  “See.” I smile. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

  He rolls his eyes, not amused by my comment.

  “Wait. Memphis, Missouri is in the middle of the U.S. There’s no water around. What’s a Navy guy doing here?”

  “I’m on leave for a few weeks and came to stay with my grandfather. I didn’t grow up here but I always come here when I’m not on duty.”

  I nod. “Okay, good. I was worried something bad was going down.”

  Garrison shakes his head and chuckles. “Yes, something bad is going down and the United States Navy sent me to Memphis, Missouri to inform you.”

  I narrow my eyes, moving both my hands to my hips. “You’re right. You’re an ass.”

  Garrison laughs louder as I walk past him and he calls after me. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Sawyer.”

  Why is his cackling making the butterflies riot in my stomach? Thanks, Mom, for passing on the hereditary love for bad boys gene.

  CHAPTER 5

  Sawyer

  Garrison is behind me, like right behind me. The denim fabric of his pants brushes against my capris and I swear to everything holy that I might melt if our skin ever comes in contact with each other. Standin
g in front of the garage door, I reach over and grab the keys to the Beast off the key rack. Then, my swear is put to the test as Garrison’s hand is on top of mine.

  “I’ll drive,” he states, trying to maneuver the keys out of my fingers.

  I grip my fist around the keys, turning around to face him. Immediately, I find this is a bad idea as we’re chest to chest… well, more like my chest to his rock hard six-pack due to our height difference.

  “No one drives the Beast except my mother or me. Sorry, no exceptions.”

  Garrison looks down at me, his hand still on top of my fistful of keys. “Need I remind you why we’re in this situation to begin with?”

  I roll my eyes. “Need I remind you that the middle of the street isn’t a place to park your motorcycle?”

  “It was that damn dog,” Garrison mutters, clenching his jaw and showing off the definition of his jawline.

  I melt a little more inside at the sight of that. “Cookie, right? You saved her Cookie?” I laugh, finally able to let out the humor I saw in the situation yesterday.

  Garrison’s face is hard, then, he shakes his head and starts to laugh. “Yeah, I saved her Cookie… not something I’m known for.”

  My laughter turns into a nervous giggle at his comment. He pulls his hand away and takes a step back, giving me some space which makes me ambiguous about his movement.

  Calmly, he holds his hand, palm up and raises his eyebrows. “What if I ask nicely? May I please drive?” he asks with a look that reminds me of someone getting their tooth pulled.

  “I don’t know… the Beast is so much bigger than your tiny, little bike,” I answer, lifting one eyebrow and turning my innocent statement into something much dirtier than I intended.

  Garrison shrugs his shoulders, looking so casually nonchalant that I’m not sure this is the same man who was yelling at me the day before. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it. The government trusts me with a F350C Lightning II fighter plane on a daily basis.”

  I walk into the garage and turn around with a smirk. “I don’t know what the heck a F350 thunder plane is but I’m sure it’s nothing at all like this 1980 GMC Suburban.”

  Garrison laughs, like he chuckles as though what I just said was funny and not completely ridiculous. Then, as if the Beast is some kind of vintage automobile, he walks the length of the vehicle, inspecting it from top to bottom as though it’s the most beautiful piece of machinery he’s ever seen. Not sure what his response is going to be, and staking my claim, I crawl into the driver’s seat of the Beast.

  Inserting the key into the ignition, I rev the engine, claiming victory and hopefully urging Garrison to get in the car so I can get back to packing. This doesn’t seem to rush him at all as he continues to take his precious time, walking around the front of the car and running his hand over the hood of the faded paint. Garrison continues to make his circle around the ‘Burb and I refuse to look out the window when he passes by. He gets to the back of the Beast and I can no longer see him.

  Tapping my fingers on the wheel impatiently, I’m about to blast the horn when suddenly the garage door rises and the sunlight pours in. My cheeks burn at the simple step of opening the garage door, a job that was always mine growing up since my mother was the primary driver in our family. Still reeling at my mistake, Garrison appears outside my window like some kind of ninja. Startled by his appearance, I cry out in surprise as he opens the driver side door.

  “Were you planning on ramming down the garage door?” Garrison teases me while he wears a cocky smile.

  I sigh and crawl over the middle console, taking my seat in on the passenger side…. so much for showing my dominance. I look over my shoulder and smile as I see his eyes fixated on my backside. Then again, maybe I did…

  Garrison

  If Sawyer didn’t do it for me earlier, the massive selection of motorcycles expanding before me sure as hell is. What can I say? I’m a man that likes fast toys and having something between my legs. My hand runs over the smooth metal of a Harley-Davidson Road Glide and my manhood shifts underneath my jeans. When I hear a feminine cough, a woman clearing her throat, I groan as my cock moves again. Looking up, Sawyer is leaning against a bike, her arms crossed under her perky breasts that her crop top only extenuates.

  She finishes clearing her throat and lifts her eyebrows. “I thought you were picking up parts, not drooling over these pieces of metal.”

  I scoff and shake my head. “Pieces of metal? I don’t think so. If you took a ride on any of these bikes, your mind would be blown.”

  In a manner that’s both annoying and seductive, Sawyer rolls her eyes and stands up. “I highly doubt it. I need to get back home so can you stop oogling and get whatever you need so we can go?”

  “Excuse me? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but it sounded like there was a bit of a lovers’ quarrel and I don’t like it when our customers don’t get along.” The salesman flashes a smile as fake as the suit he’s wearing. “How about you and your missus take a ride on this Glide? Perhaps she’ll change her mind.”

  He winks at me and I look over at Sawyer, her face turning neon red. I see her opening her mouth to object and I quickly answer the salesman. “A test ride would be great.”

  “Alright, let me get her ready for you then you can meet me out on the lot,” he says, walking off and I only feel mildly guilty for getting his hopes up.

  My mind races at the thought of riding something fast. I’ve only been off base a few days but I already miss the adrenaline from going top speeds. Granted, this motorcycle won’t get anywhere close to the jets I fly but it’ll do the job.

  “Hey, ass,” Sawyer says, snapping me out of my daydream as she punches me in the shoulder. “First off, I’m not your ‘missus’ and second off, I’m ready to go.”

  I put on my best, most charming smile and reach out, touching her hip. “Come on, Saw, one little ride. When was the last time you had something hard and fast between your legs?”

  Sawyer shoves me with a disgusted look on her face that makes me chuckle. My laughter only irritates her more as she stomps toward the front of the store. Outside, the salesman shields his eyes from the sun, looking back into the shop for us. I run after Sawyer and grab her hand before she exits and goes off on the salesman.

  “Come on.” I try to stop my laughter. “I’m sorry, I really am. Go on this ride with me and I’ll help you with whatever it is you have to do. I’ll make up the time you’re missing… come on.”

  Sawyer spins around, my hand still in hers and our chests touching as she moves. “Who the hell do you think I am? Some naive, little country girl? I ran over your bike, big fuckin’ deal. I’ll pay you back in cash but I won’t pretend to be your girlfriend nor will I drive you around town forever.”

  Her chest heaves as she yells at me and it’s turning me on. Maybe it’s better if we don’t take a test drive because at this point, I’m not sure any of my self-control would be left especially if I have to ride back to Memphis with this hothead. She marches across the parking lot to the Beast and yanks on the door handle, only to find it locked. Smirking, I watch her as it sinks in that I’m holding the keys to her ride back home.

  “You’ve got yourself a feisty one there,” the salesman says, sneaking up beside me and crossing his arms.

  “You’re telling me,” I mutter and head toward Sawyer, not sure how to handle this situation. I get paid to think of my feet, make split second decisions, but with this woman, I can barely make any kind of decision much less a quick one.

  Her arms are crossed and her beautiful lips are dipped into a frown, not something I want to get used to seeing. She sees me coming and turns her body away from mine. I sigh, why is every woman in my life so difficult? Standing at the end of the Beast as Sawyer likes to call the Suburban, I hold up the keys and jingle them. She turns her head and eyes me suspiciously.

  “I’m sorry, Sawyer. If you want to go, we can.” I extend my arm further, holding the keys out as a peace offering.r />
  She purses her lips, staring at the keys then lets out a long sigh. “Look, I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before, my grandfather forbid it. Hell, I’m from Memphis, Missouri and I haven’t even ridden a four-wheeler!”

  I try to hide my surprise. Cuzzo told me kids in this area are riding four-wheelers before they’re even in double digits. Shrugging my shoulders, trying to be nonchalant, I nod behind me. “Well, now’s a good time for you to try. The US Navy trusts me to fly their planes, I’m pretty sure you can trust me to take you around the block on a motorcycle, it’s a little slower than the normal speed I go.”

  She bites her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to push her against the Beast and have my way with her. Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts, knowing that it’s been far too long since I’ve sworn off women. Maybe on my next break home, I’d better not visit Memphis since the majority of the female population is sixty or older.

  I reach out and take Sawyer’s hand. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull it away. Slowly, I turn my back to her, keeping a firm grip on her hand, and walk us toward the salesman whose smile lights up as he sees us coming back. Behind me, Sawyer is dragging her feet as her hand gets sweaty in mine but I don’t dare turn around for fear she’ll back out of this.

  “You two will love this bike!” the salesman declares, dropping the key in my hand and giving me no choice but to turn around and face Sawyer. She looks as pale as a ghost and I quickly move my hand to her waist, afraid she might faint.

  “You okay? We don’t have to do this,” I try to reassure her.

  Snapping out of her trance, she shakes her hand. “No… let’s do this.”