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Deuce of Hearts

Page 4

by Lyssa Layne


  Not waiting for her to change her mind, I quickly straddle the bike then turn to look at her. Way over thinking, she shuffles her feet, trying to figure out the easiest way to mount the motorcycle. Trying to hide my eye roll, remembering why I don’t put much effort into dating, I grab her hand and pull her toward me.

  “Climb on and hold on tight, darlin’.” I rev the engine, making sure I can’t hear her objection. A few seconds later, Sawyer Kingham is nestled behind me, her body pressed tightly against mine. Flooring the throttle, I smile, because my lack of female choices in this town won’t matter after a ride on this machine with the hottie on my back. Women are too much drama for me but machines like this Harley-Davidson Road Glide are just my style.

  CHAPTER 6

  Garrison

  I lied. The bike didn’t do it for me. My libido is quite the opposite of satisfied, it’s raging and the fact that Sawyer is sitting in the front seat beside me with a smile the size of Texas on her face isn’t helping. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance over at her, her dark hair disheveled from the wind we whipped through on the bike. If I were ever to be on U.S. soil for longer than a few weeks at a time, I’d have bought that bike in a heartbeat but I know it’ll just sit in Cuzzo’s garage, rode maybe twice a year. As it is, I almost bought it just so I can see Sawyer smile like this the rest of the time I’m in town, not to mention her giggling in my ear when I would hit the gas. Quickly, I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of that memory before something pops up down below.

  Nodding in her direction, I clear my throat. “So, I guess you liked it?”

  Sawyer looks over at me with her big blue eyes all lit up. “It was fuckin’ amazing!” She giggles, covering her mouth as she drops the f-bomb. “Sorry! I can see why my grandfather forbid me to ever ride one of those things.”

  Smirking, I look over at her. “Well, he’d be happy to know you were safe with me.”

  Sawyer’s smile doesn’t disappear but she still manages to give her notorious eye roll. “Blah blah blah, the US Navy trusts you… doesn’t mean my grandfather would.”

  The Navy thing usually always works in my favor with women and I’ll admit that it’s a bit of a turn-on that it isn’t doing anything for Sawyer. Normally the chase is annoying as I don’t have a lot of time but for some reason, I’m enjoying it with this woman beside me although I honestly don’t think anything will progress between us. Still, it’s a good distraction while I’m on leave and in this small town.

  “Tell me about your grandfather and the rest of your family,” I say, trying to start a conversation that doesn’t include her making fun of me, no matter how much I appreciate it. Her smile diminishes and immediately I hate myself for doing that. Not so much for asking about her family to get to know her better but for making her smile disappear.

  Sawyer shrugs, turning to look out the window as I drive the Suburban. “Your grandfather probably knew him. He worked at the lumber yard in town until the day he died.” She glances over at me. “Literally, he died on the job.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter, unsure what else to say or do.

  Sawyer shakes her head. “He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way unless he’d have known that my grandmother would die from a broken heart a few months later.”

  I roll down my window, the giant car suddenly feeling like it’s lacking oxygen. She’s going to tell me about her mother next and that frown of hers is going to get even bigger and I’m not sure I can handle that. So, before she can tell me, I reach over and pat her hand.

  “Cuzzo told me about your mom. I’m sorry.”

  Sawyer bites her quivering bottom lip, tears in her eyes and I want to punch myself for making the situation worse. This is why I work with all men, we don’t upset each other, we don’t talk about our families, we don’t cry. Suddenly, I remember why I don’t date… it’s a precarious line to walk with the opposite sex and apparently I suck at it.

  “My parents are alive but they suck, more worried about money than their own son.” I word vomit, trying to make Sawyer feel better but the second the words are out of my mouth, I know how awful it sounds. I glance at the passing road sign, grateful that we only have twenty more miles until this awkward car ride is over. I feel her eyes on me but refuse to look in her direction.

  “How do they suck?” she asks, overlooking my insensitivity.

  “Everything is about money and status to them. They couldn’t care less if I rode a motorcycle much less that I risk my life flying jets over enemy lines for a living. Although they do enjoy bragging about their son serving their country quite often, they think it heightens their status in society with their friends.”

  “Seriously? I didn’t know people were actually like that, I thought that was only in the movies.”

  Sighing, I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. “Then I guess my life is some kind of bad movie,” I mutter. Now that I think about it, that’s exactly what my life is… a really bad, fucking movie. Twenty miles until I can drop her off and I’ll be alone again… back to my bad movie life on my own. Two thumbs down… story of my life.

  Sawyer

  I think I offended him and had it been this time yesterday, I would have revelled in that fact. However, the guy has grown on me and I feel a teensy bit bad. I bite my lip to keep from giggling, knowing that’ll only make the situation worse. Laughing sure as hell beats crying but not everyone understands my nervous laughing. If anyone ever sees me crying though then they know I’ve reached my breaking point and I’m past the point of no return.

  “I dance,” I blurt out, doing an awful job of changing the subject and making it even more awkward in the Beast than it already was.

  Garrison glances over at me like I’m seven shades of crazy and nods nonchalantly, the way you would when you pass a drunk on the sidewalk that you’re trying to avoid.

  Nervously, I start to explain, throwing up my hands as I speak faster and faster. “Obviously I dance, you saw me, but not for a high school team.” I giggle. “I mean I’m twenty-four so of course not for a high school squad. I’m from New York, well, not from—”

  Garrison’s hand moves to my thigh, interrupting me more than if he were actually speaking. Fire runs up my leg and all I can do is stare at his hand, wondering what his next move is but he doesn’t have one. Slowly, I start to calm down although my attraction to him doesn’t dim.

  After what feels like an eternity, I lift my gaze from where his hand rests to his face. Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my nerves. “Obviously, I’m from Memphis but I’m living in New York now. I went to Juilliard after high school and I’m still trying to find my place in the world of dance.”

  Garrison nods, his eyes on the road. “You’ll have to excuse my ignorance but what kind of dancing?”

  I fight a smile, surprised by his honesty although it comes at no surprise that he knows nothing about dance. “All kinds. I’ve studied in a variety of areas. I’ve auditioned for Broadway shows, I enter dance contests for swing, salsa, anything ballroom style. I choreograph dances for schools’ dance teams, basically anything I can do that incorporates dance. Think Dancing with the Stars.”

  His lips slide into a smile and he nods. “I like it. You’re following your dream, that’s cool.”

  My cheeks heat up at his comment and I look away bashfully.

  “Not to bring up bad memories but what are your plans for being here?”

  All he did was ask my plans for while I’m in Memphis but immediately, I’m reminded of my mother. A memory of us driving along this very same route in this very same vehicle with the windows down and the radio turned up has a goofy smile on my face and tears in my eyes. Blinking quickly to hold them back, I look over at Garrison with a shrug.

  “I need to get her house cleaned out so I can sell the house and then…” I swallow the lump in my throat, surprised that I’m so emotional. “Then, I’m done with Memphis and I won’t ever be back.”

  Out of the corner o
f my eye, I think I see Garrison’s lips dip into a frown but in the split second it takes to look his direction, it’s gone.

  “Never? You won’t come back to see any family that’s around here?”

  I scoff and shake my head. “My grandparents and my mother are gone so I’m all on my own, family of one now.” My heart clenches at that statement and the tears burn in my eyes. I never went a day in my life not knowing I was loved or how important family was but now they’re all gone and it’s just me. Not even in the middle of the crazy New York nights have I ever felt as alone as I do in this moment now that I’m facing the realization that I don’t have a single family member left.

  “What about your dad?”

  Narrowing my eyes, my emptiness is replaced by anger. Anger at my father but more so at Garrison for asking such a stupid question.

  “Pft! He’s a deadbeat, never met him,” I answer, crossing my arms and hoping he’ll pick up on my body language so that he’ll drop the subject.

  “How do you know he’s a deadbeat if you’ve never met him?”

  My temper flares and I lean toward him, wishing I could breathe fire in his direction because his question is quite honestly ridiculous.

  “He… he just is! What kind of man leaves his family? A deadbeat!”

  “What did your mom tell you about him?”

  Seriously, why can’t he let this go? I just stare at him as he drives the Beast, oblivious to my death glares and my desire to end this conversation.

  “She said… well…” I sigh, unable to lie to this man beside me. I don’t know what it is about Garrison but he brings out the worst in me and apparently the honesty, too. “Honestly, she never spoke of him. I don’t have any idea of what he does or who he is.”

  “So, he’s potentially not a deadbeat then?”

  I reach over, punching Garrison in the leg. “What the hell is your deal with defending my father?”

  Garrison looks over at me, surprised by my action as he looks down at his leg then over at me. I purse my lips and make my eyes wide, waiting for him to answer.

  “Look, all I’m saying is that sometimes guys get a bad reputation when they don’t know anything at all about the situation. Some of the guys I work with have told me some pretty fucked up stories about getting slapped with paternity lawsuits and having to pay thousands of dollars in back child support for a child they never even knew about. I think it’s important to just find out the facts, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Not a moment too soon, Garrison pulls the Beast into my mother’s driveway. The car is still moving when I fling open the door and jump out. Garrison calls out to me but my blood is literally boiling at his comment. What kind of asshole has the audacity to imply that my mother would do that kind of thing? Garrison Cocuzzo, that’s who.

  CHAPTER 7

  Sawyer

  I hear him call out my name over the roar of the Beast but I don’t stop. Tears threaten to fall down my cheeks and I’ll be damned if I let him see me like that. I should’ve followed my gut instinct, that Garrison is a grade A asshole and stayed as far away as possible. I get to the front door and turn the knob only to remember that the house keys are on the same ring as the car keys… that Garrison has. Sighing, I turn around, cross my arms, and tap my foot as I impatiently wait.

  The Beast quiets and Garrison strides quickly around the piece of metal. His nostrils flare as he tries not to yell but does a horrible job trying to hide his frustration. “What the hell was that, Sawyer? You could’ve been hurt!”

  “Like you care,” I mutter., holding out my hand and waiting for the keys.

  Instead of dropping them in my hand, Garrison takes my hand in his, pushing them down and squeezing it lightly. “Yeah, I do care. What did I say?”

  Momentarily distracted by his physical contact, I relax for a couple seconds but quickly recover, yanking my hand back and throwing my arms up like a crazy person. “What did you say?” Now, it’s my turn to let the nostrils flare, I can feel them moving in and out, slightly distracted from my oncoming rant. “You basically accused my mother of hiding me from my father, like she did something wrong!”

  Garrison squares his body in front of mine, placing one hand on each shoulder and pressing down lightly. Immediately, stress starts to flow out of my shoulders despite my mind telling me to stay pissed off. His lips drop into a small frown and he shakes his head as he begins to speak.

  “Damn, Sawyer, that’s not what I meant to imply at all. I didn’t know your mom but I’m sure she was an amazing person. All I’m trying to say is that there’s got to be a reason she didn’t tell you about your father and before you jump to conclusions that he’s an asshole, there might be a possibility that he’s a good guy. Either way, I’m sure your mom was just trying to protect her little girl.”

  I look into his dark eyes, those damn tears begging to be released as I soak in his words. I know he’s right, my dad could be anyone out there. I’ve spent the better part of my twenty-four years thinking of endless possibilities. Maybe it’s Keith that owns Keith’s Cafe here in town but my mother hated cooking so she didn’t want to settle down with him. Maybe it’s Harrison Ford, my mother always had a crush on him and I have to admit that I think my nose looks slightly like his. Maybe it was a man that stopped in Memphis for one night only then rode off the next morning, never to be seen or heard from again. Now that I’m older, and quite a bit jaded, it’s just easier for me to accept the fact that he was a loser and that I’m better off without him. Now that I have no family left, I don’t want to think of what a great man he could’ve been because that will make me feel even lonelier than I already am.

  “I found something,” I whisper around the lump in my throat.

  Garrison lifts an eyebrow. “What kind of something?”

  Why am I telling him this? He’ll probably think I’m some kind of lunatic but I need to run this by someone else and well, right now he’s the only ‘someone else’ around. I reach out, grabbing the keys out of his hands and my butterflies flutter in my stomach as our fingers briefly touch. Without saying a word, I unlock the front door and walk inside. Garrison follows me and I feel oddly at peace knowing he’s behind me until I walk into the bedroom. Abruptly, I stop and I feel the weight of Garrison’s body against mine. His hands move to my hips, keeping me upright and my heart races at the touch.

  “Why’d you stop?”

  “Um… sorry,” I mumble, taking a step forward and moving across the room. I reach out and pluck the playing card from the mirror, moving it for the first time in probably twenty-five years. The part of the card that was tucked under the wood frame is still the same bright color it was when it was placed there while the rest of it is so faded that I can’t even tell what color it was originally. Turning to Garrison, I hand him the card with no explanation.

  He glances down at it, flipping it from front to back then looks up at me. “This is your father?”

  I shrug, relieved that he’s thinking is on the same path as mine. “I don’t know but I have a feeling that it might be.”

  “Have you called the number?”

  I move my head side to side. “No,” I whisper, “I’m too scared.”

  Garrison nods, handing the card back to me and shrugging nonchalantly. “I could call if you want, I don’t have anything else to do while I’m in town.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “You’d do that?”

  “Yeah, whatever, it’s not a big deal.” He turns toward the hallway, walking away like what he’s offering is the most normal thing in the world to do for someone who is basically a stranger.

  I follow him out of the room, standing at the top of the stairs. “Take the Beast, I don’t need her.”

  Garrison turns and looks up at me. Our eyes meet and we both silently send each other our appreciation. It’s funny how quickly things change in life, one minute I’m running over his motorcycle and now he’s joining my quest to find who my father is.

>   Garrison

  The old vehicle rattles beneath my hands. If it were my jet or my own personal car, I would pull over and pop open the hood without a second thought but this is the Beast. It’s Sawyer’s Beast and this is how she’s always known this thing to run. My lips twitch at the thought of Sawyer growing up over the years, this giant SUV not changing at all but Sawyer flourishing from a little girl to the woman she is today. Quickly, my almost smile slips away as I recall that there was never a father in this driver’s seat, no one to treat Sawyer like a princess or to scare off any boys she brought back to her house. It’s bad enough she grew up without a dad then I had to open my mouth and bring up my Navy buddy’s situation, implying that her mother is the one at fault for not having her father in her life. Fuck, I really am an asshole.

  It’s bad enough I made the comment that I did but then I went ahead and volunteered myself to help find the bastard. What is it about this woman that I can’t just let her go? She ran over my only mode of transportation and instead of being pissed, I asked her to be my chauffeur. I tried to pick up the parts I needed to fix my bike and instead, I ended up letting her ride on my back, getting way too close than I should’ve let her. I could’ve walked out of her house tonight and never have to face her again but now, I’m the head private investigator in the search to find her father. Why do I do this shit to myself?

  I don’t even like my own father much less the idea of a man that didn’t stick around to raise a woman like Sawyer. I scoff as I pull the Beast into Cuzzo’s driveway. What kind of woman is Sawyer exactly, how would I know? The woman is nothing but a stranger to me… which is exactly why I signed up for this adventure. I want to find out exactly for myself who Sawyer Kingham is and what purpose will I serve in her life. I’m only home for a couple weeks so I’d better move fast, good thing I already know who owns the phone number on that playing card.

 

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