I sent her back a quick reply telling her that they looked delicious with a GIF of the Cookie Monster devouring cookies. I sniffed and wiped beneath my eyes as I placed my phone in my back pocket.
When I looked up, I saw that Coop and Sawyer were wiping down the backsplash. The project was done. Sawyer was going to leave.
I needed to get back inside, but I needed a moment to regroup. To recalibrate. To readjust my plan.
I’d been so shocked when Coop had arrived. I was normally an inclusive, more-the-merrier type of gal but his timing couldn’t have been worse. Sawyer had just admitted that something had happened at the door last night. I was finally getting my opportunity to tell him how I felt. Coop showing up had not only destroyed the moment, but it had also smashed all of my plans for today like a bug on a windshield.
Today was the day that I was going to lay it out there for Sawyer. I’d woken up at four and hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep because I’d been so excited and nervous. I’d lain in bed and mapped out the entire day, emotionally and practically. I’d visualized the heck out of it.
It broke down like this: first, I was going to ask the remaining intimacy questions before lunch. Then, I planned on relaxing and eating together with no pressure. Just two people enjoying a meal. After that, we’d finish the kitchen. I’d make sure there were lots of accidental brushes. And when it was all done and we were completely spent from a weekend of hard labor, we would stand back and admire the product of our teamwork, and I would tell him that we made a great team. This would seamlessly segue into how I felt about him. I’d even toyed with the idea of confessing my plan of the renovation, the apprenticeship, the questions, laying it all out on the line. That was when I’d imagined he’d pull me into his arms, kiss the living daylights out of me, pick me up An Officer and a Gentleman style and take me to bed.
None of that had happened or was going to happen now. Cooper being here had cut our workday in half. Instead of finishing up after eight, as I’d planned, it was barely two. His presence had also made Sawyer even quieter and more withdrawn than usual, which I hadn’t believed was possible. I’d only been able to ask four of my remaining 16 questions and I had to slip them in when Coop was using the restroom or out in the front yard taking calls. We’d worked through lunch because Sawyer “just wanted to get it done.”
If there was any path to get things back on track, I sure as heck didn’t see it. All I could do now was end the day with grace when all I wanted to do was throw a temper tantrum like a two-year-old whose mom just told her she couldn’t have candy.
“Stop it.” I chided myself.
There were people with much bigger problems than this. I refocused my attention on the things I was grateful for. My health. My family. My business. My friends.
I’d known this was a long shot going in and no matter what the outcome, I could walk away from this with my head held high and the knowledge that I’d given this the old college try. I’d pushed myself to step out of my comfort zone. I hadn’t given up when I hit roadblocks, and I still wasn’t giving up now, I just had no idea what my next move should be.
My new perspective didn’t exactly raise my spirits, but I refused to stand outside sulking. Taking a deep breath, I walked back in, resigned to my new game plan, which was basically no plan. I found Coop and Sawyer having the moment that I’d pictured Sawyer and me having. They stood beside each other in identical stances, each with their arms folded over their chests and feet shoulder width apart as they surveyed the newly remodeled area.
Even through the stubborn fog of disappointment that had moved in and was refusing to disperse, I could appreciate the fact that there were two very good looking Briggs brothers standing in my kitchen. I took a moment to soak that in. As I studied them, I noticed a few similarities that I’d never seen before. I’d always thought that they didn’t look anything alike.
Sawyer was a good four inches taller than Coop, who was no shorty at six foot two, but looked average height next to his brother. Sawyer had dark brown hair and milk chocolate eyes. Coop had dirty blonde hair and the unique distinction of having one blue and one hazel eye. The younger Briggs brother was fit, but in a lean and athletic way whereas the eldest Briggs was large and muscular.
Those were things I’d already observed about them, what I hadn’t noticed was that they had the same mouth and jawline. Their eyes, although differing in color, were both the same size and shape and although I hadn’t seen evidence of it in Sawyer today, their smiles were the same. When they grinned, their lips pulled higher to the right.
“There you are.” Coop walked over to me, hanging one arm casually around my shoulders while the other fanned out in front of him towards the kitchen. “What do you think? Was it worth the five K you dropped?”
“Cooper,” Sawyer spoke his brother’s name through clenched teeth.
For some reason, whenever Coop had mentioned the amount of my donation today, Sawyer had gotten irritated, or rather more irritated than he’d already been. I wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. I would’ve asked him if we were alone, but since we weren’t, I didn’t.
“Yes.” I nodded. “It looks great.”
“How about we all get cleaned up and head over to The Cow to celebrate?”
My heart jumped up and down in my chest at the thought of this day not ending. Maybe this third wheel situation wasn’t so bad if the wheel drove our trio to spend more time together. The Tipsy Cow was the only bar in Wishing Well so of course I’d been there at the same time that Sawyer had been, but I’d never been with him. Even in a group setting. For being part of such a big family, Sawyer didn’t do group outings that often.
I checked to see if he was going to agree or not.
“I’ve got plans.” Sawyer didn’t even glance up as he put his tools away.
The heart that had just been jumping for joy in my chest, now leapt head first off the twentieth floor of the Hope Tower that I’d built. He had plans. It made sense now, him asking Cooper to come and help out today. He must be meeting someone and needed to make sure he was finished in time.
This entire weekend I’d thought that we had moments. I’d been sure that we’d connected. I was convinced that we were on the precipice of something happening.
Now I knew that it had all been in my head. There were no moments. There was no connection. And nothing was happening.
When my heart splattered all over reality sidewalk, it was hard not to crumble under the pain of it. But, I’d gone into this thing with my eyes wide open. I’d known that the cards were stacked against me and it was a long shot. I’d decided it was worth rolling the dice and taking my chances.
At least now, after I recovered from the blow to my heart and self-esteem, I’d be able to move on. The days that I pined after a man that went the other way when he saw me coming were over.
“What about you, beautiful?” Cooper grinned from ear to ear. “You gonna let me buy you a beer?”
“Sure.” It wasn’t the ending I was hoping for, but neither was sitting at home feeling sorry for myself.
Chapter 15
Sawyer
“Virtue is its own punishment.”
~ Grant Turner
My feet pounded on the dirt path that ran parallel to the river as I took out my aggression through exercise instead of homicide. I wanted to kill Cooper. It wasn’t the first time that I’d had lethal thoughts when it came to one of my brothers, but it was the only time that I’d imagined the ways I could do it. And the worst part about it was, he hadn’t done anything wrong and he certainly didn’t deserve my murderous impulses.
I’d known exactly how he was going to behave and what he was going to be like when I’d texted him. And he’d lived up to my expectations.
As much as I knew that it was my doing, it still hadn’t been easy to endure. It was like amputating an infected limb or open-heart surgery; you know that it’s necessary for survival, but that doesn’t make the pain easier.
&
nbsp; He’d shown up and it had become The Cooper Show. He’d flirted relentlessly with Delilah. He’d dominated the conversation. He’d made jokes that had her bending over in hysterics. I hadn’t liked it but knew it was a necessary evil. Until he’d asked her if he could buy her a beer. At that point all rational thought flew out of my head.
I knew I was being ridiculous. My brother didn’t know how I felt about her. He might have suspicions, but he didn’t know. No one did. Including her.
My phone rang and after checking to see who it was, I hit the answer button on my earphones. “Hey,” I answered, not breaking my stride.
“Hey, firstborn, where are you?”
“On a run. By the river.”
“I’m at your house. Your mother sent me.”
Great. She was sending in more reinforcements. After I’d left the fundraiser with Delilah, my mom had been extremely curious about how the rest of that night turned out.
What happened?
Where did we go?
Why did Delilah bid five thousand dollars?
When the answers I gave her didn’t satisfy her curiosity, she’d recruited backup. My brothers and their wives. My sister. Even Mrs. Higgins had asked me about Delilah after she’d come back from a lunch with my mom.
Now my dad was at my house.
“How long until you’ll be back?” he asked.
“About five minutes.”
“It’s hotter than blue blazes. You mind if I let myself in?”
“Go ahead.”
“Alright, see ya soon.”
I turned my music back on and ran even faster. Not because I was eager to talk to my Dad. I did want to get it over with, but I’d hit the turbo boost because I needed to burn off some of my frustration.
Chewy barked beside me, and I thought it was because I’d picked up the pace. He loved to let loose and go full speed. When he barked again I noticed that it wasn’t the acceleration that had caused his excitement, it was the family of ducks up ahead that were peacefully wading into the river. He shifted, positioning himself to run over and jump in.
“No” I clipped.
He whined as he fell back in step with me. I knew it was hard for him to go against his animal urges, but it would be bad for the ducks if I let that happen. At the very least, he would scare the poor things. At the worst, he would catch one and then it would be bye, bye birdies.
I could relate. It was a lot like what would happen if I gave into my instincts with Delilah. Someone would get hurt. I’d been in love three times and each time it had ended in disaster.
In fairness, my first love was doomed from the start. I was sixteen and what started as innocent, unrequited love ended in prison and death.
I still remember the first time I saw her. It was the first day back from winter break my junior year. I was sitting in the back of Algebra II, and she walked in.
She had strawberry blonde hair, huge green eyes, and a smile that spread from ear to ear. The first thing that I thought when I saw her was holy shit. The next thing I thought was that she looked young for an upperclassman, which she had to be in order to be in the class. Then I thought that I’d never seen her before. I figured that she was a new student and was already planning what I would say to her after class. I was going to introduce myself, ask her what her classes were, and offer to show her around school.
I didn’t know her name, didn’t know where she was from, didn’t know if she would give me the time of day, but I knew that I’d never felt the way I felt when I looked at her. It was like lightning struck me. An electrical charge buzzed through my entire body. My eyes never left her as she glanced around the class looking for a chair. There was one beside me, and I would’ve made a deal with the devil for her to choose it.
It turned out a negotiation with Lucifer would’ve been futile. She didn’t pick any seat. Instead, she walked to the front of the room and wrote her name on the blackboard.
Mrs. McKinney.
At first, I was in denial. I thought it might be a practical joke. I’d sure as hell never seen a teacher that looked like she did.
But it wasn’t a joke.
She turned to the class and explained that she was our substitute teacher. Our regular teacher, Mr. Atkins, had slipped on an ice patch and broken his hip. She placed her left hand on her own hip as she described his injury and that’s when I saw the ring on her finger.
She was a teacher and she was married. Double whammy.
Those two facts should’ve made my heart hit the brakes, but if anything it pressed the accelerator. As the school year progressed, my feelings for her grew instead of diminished. Every day that I spent in the back row of room 35A, I fell a little more in love with her.
Over time I learned that it was her first year teaching. She was twenty-two years old and her first name was Laura. She was born and raised in Houston. She loved tacos and chocolate. Her favorite movie was Sixteen Candles. She didn’t tell me any of those things directly, it was just information that she mentioned during lessons and while talking to other students.
We didn’t have many interactions, but every time she spoke, I listened. When it came to her, I paid attention to everything. Which was how I learned something that would change my life forever. Her husband was abusive.
I’d seen him pick her up after school once and hadn’t liked the way he grabbed her arm and jerked her into the car. Then, towards the end of the year, I started noticing that she was wearing long sleeve shirts and turtlenecks even though the temperature was in the nineties. That had made me suspicious. But then, the Tuesday after Memorial Day, she showed up with a black eye that was visible despite the makeup she’d covered it with. She had attributed it to a boating accident. The next Monday she showed up with a fat lip that she claimed happened when she had tripped and fallen on the sidewalk, but by then I knew what was going on.
After asking around, I found out that her husband was a cop. They’d moved to Wishing Well for a fresh start after he was suspended for using excessive force.
That’s when I knew I had to do something, but I wasn’t sure what. I thought about telling someone but wasn’t sure what could be done if he had ties to law enforcement.
Then one night, as I was driving by The Tipsy Cow, I saw him go in. I flipped a U-turn and walked in with so much rage I could barely see straight. I spotted him right away at a booth with a few friends. Without any hesitation, I crossed the bar, pulled him out of the booth by the back of his shirt and pushed him up against the wall by the throat. Since I was the same size I am now and worked the farm every day, and he barely reached six foot and had the beginnings of a beer belly, I had the upper hand.
I told him that if he ever touched his wife again, I’d kill him, and unlike my homicidal thoughts about my brother, I’d meant it. I tightened my grip and didn’t let him go until he told me he understood. When he did, I let him go and he crumbled to the floor, sputtering and coughing.
That was on Friday. Sunday at church, news spread that he’d been arrested for battery and false imprisonment. Apparently, he’d gone home from the bar and held his wife, the woman I was in love with, at gunpoint for twenty-one hours before she managed to escape. He beat her to the point that her neighbors didn’t recognize her when she crawled up on their porch.
I’d left church and sped all the way to the hospital in Parrish Creek. It was a thirty-minute drive, and I made it in ten. When I got there, a couple that I assumed were her parents were crying outside the door of her room. I stood in the hallway paralyzed with fear, tears falling down my cheeks, thinking that she was gone and that it was my fault.
They noticed me and asked if I was there to see Laura. I managed to say that I was her student. They told me that she’d just gotten out of surgery for a punctured lung and that the doctors expected her to make a full recovery. They’d been crying from relief.
I didn’t see her that day or ever again. She moved back home with her parents and filed for divorce. Her piece of shit husband we
nt to prison where he was stabbed to death in his cell six months into his sentence.
A few weeks after he was arrested, I was walking behind The Tipsy Cow and saw his friends come out. They recognized me and one of them walked up and sucker punched me. It took me by surprise and knocked the wind out of me. But after I recovered from the momentary shock, I took all three of them on. They got a few hits in, but I walked away from that fight and they were all on the ground.
That was the first time I was in love.
The next time was slightly less dramatic, but it still ended in scandal and a suicide attempt. I met Erika freshman year of college. She’d just broken up with her high school boyfriend and wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was still devastated over my first brush with love so I wasn’t either.
What started as casual turned serious. By winter break we were officially a couple, and she spent more time at my apartment off campus than she did in her dorm room.
When she went home for the holidays, her boyfriend tried to get her back. She refused. She returned to school, and things were good for a while. Then her ex transferred to our school in an effort to win her back. When that didn’t happen, he posted flyers all over campus that had naked pictures and her performing sex acts on him that he’d taken without her knowledge when they’d dated.
She was humiliated but handled it with class and grace. We went to the police, but they weren’t able to make a case. Then, back in her hometown, the pictures showed up on the church bulletin board where her father was a pastor.
A week later, I went to pick her up to try and get her out of her dorm room, where she’d been holed up since her mom had called to tell her what happened, and I found her in bed. I tried to wake her up but couldn’t, and that’s when I saw the empty bottles of sleeping pills next to her. She was rushed to the hospital and had her stomach pumped, and, luckily, recovered. But soon after she left school and went to study abroad.
Seducing Sawyer (Wishing Well, Texas Book 7) Page 10