by Petrova, Em
“Tomorrow then?” he asked.
Maddie frowned. “Tomorrow what?”
“You. Me. A date.”
“Oh, right. Um...” She mentally scanned her diary for the week and nodded. “Sure. And we can discuss the house?”
His smile grew more lopsided. And more charming. “It’s a deal. Come by at seven.”
Her stomach had become a whirlpool of anxiety and excitement. A date with Sawyer Steele. Oh my God.
Mentally straightening herself, she offered her coolest smile. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you tomorrow, Maddie.”
She didn’t turn to view him. He’d be leaning against the kitchen counter, looking as smug and as sexy as ever. The way he’d said her name rang in her ears when she stepped out of the holiday cottage. As she pulled the door shut behind her, she drew in a long breath of salty air. A date with Sawyer Steele. What on earth had she let herself in for?
Chapter Four
Sawyer gave the sauce another stir and nodded to himself. He nearly swiped his hands down his jeans then remembered he needed to make a good impression. His stomach bunched and he fumbled the spoon when he dumped it in the dishwasher. When had he ever been this nervous? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t have to try much with women normally. They tended to come to him fairly easily and certainly didn’t expect him to wine and dine them.
He glanced at the small oak table set with candles and some placemats he found in one cupboard. It was funny though, because he wanted to wine and dine her. And it wasn’t just about winning her over, it was about seeing her smile. It was about wondering how her skin would look in the candlelight.
But marriage?
He hadn’t meant to bring it up like that. Being thirty-one and tired of the dating scene had made him think more and more about marriage—and about the one chance he’d had at it—but he’d hoped to woo her properly. Not blurt out things about marriage.
But then, he knew Maddie. She hadn’t changed. She was still the same sweet, clever, kind girl. Who just happened to be wrapped up in a hot-as-hell package. Whether she really knew him was another thing, but there was time for that.
A knock at the door had his heart nearly breaking his ribs. This was it. He’d charm her, seduce her and make her see he wasn’t the guy he used to be. He rushed to the door and forgot the low beam just inside the living room. He staggered back as pain rushed through his skull.
Sawyer swore under his breath and pressed a hand to his forehead. No blood but it throbbed like hell. Small cottages like this were not designed for big men like him. Another reason for him to get out of Ballicliff Bay.
That was another battle he had ahead. Persuade Maddie to leave this backward town and come to London with him.
Another knock came and he forced himself to ignore the pain and draw open the door with a welcoming smile. Wide, wary eyes stared up at him.She wore a light red jacket and he couldn’t quite see what was underneath it yet. He was suddenly eager to know. Sawyer felt a little like the hungry wolf and here was Little Red Riding Hood, coming into his lair.
Stop that, he warned himself. Charm, seduce. Not devour.
“Come in.” He stepped aside and shut the door behind her.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought we could stay in. I’m cooking.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen.
Maddie paused halfway through unbuttoning her jacket. “You cook?”
Sawyer tried not to be annoyed at the remark. He understood the Sawyer she knew barely recognised what a kitchen looked like. He lifted a nonchalant shoulder. “I have lived on my own for a while. Had to do something to stop myself from starving.”
“Of course.” She flushed and finished unbuttoning the jacket.
It seemed to take forever. Underneath he got glimpses of a little cleavage and flash of a cream top. When she handed him the garment, he took a moment to trail his gaze deliberately over her. She wore smart, dark denim jeans, a light cream v-neck top and heels. The top wasn’t low-cut but he knew if she bent over, he’d get a great view.
He couldn’t wait.
The years had been great to her. Added a few pounds onto her hips and breasts. Those few pounds made him want to grab those curves and feel them give under his hands.
“Why don’t you sit down?” he said, motioning to the couch. He hung her jacket in the alcove by the stairs and motioned to the wine on the coffee table. “Help yourself. I wasn’t sure what you liked but we’re having red meat.”
She peered at the two bottles of red on the table as if confused by them. Or perhaps by him. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. Yes, he wanted to impress her but he didn’t want to act like a douche.
“If you prefer white, it doesn’t really matter...”
“No, red is great. Thanks.” She drew a bottle close and opened it. “You’re having some?”
“Please.”
He needed it. Needed a whole bottle of it. He wasn’t sure what he intended to happen this evening. He’d thought getting her on her own in the small confines of this holiday cottage would give him a chance to show her how he’d changed. Look at everything I have to offer, this date would say.
She leaned forward as she poured the wine. He turned sharply. “I’ll just go check on the food,” he muttered.
In the kitchen, he rested his palms on the counter and took in several breaths. He hadn’t anticipated her being uncomfortable around him. They used to be best friends for Godsakes. She told him everything. Until he’d left her that was...
He also hadn’t expected to want to drag her upstairs and take her to bed. Sure, he fancied the hell out of her. Who wouldn’t? The desire between them always burned bright, but that impatient teenage itch had been replaced with something deeper and more powerful. Something he’d struggle to fight.
Sawyer was certain she felt this spark as much as he did. He wasn’t sure it would even take much persuading, but how was he ever going to prove himself more than the bad boy if he took her to bed on their first date?
A pop drew his attention to the sauce he’d left simmering. Damn. He grabbed another spoon out of the drawer and dashed over. His hand caught on the pan handle as he thrust the spoon into the red wine sauce and it tilted. Sawyer tried to right it and swore when his fingers connected with hot metal. When he jerked it away, the pan came off the hob and the spoon flew to the floor. Red sauce splattered over his jeans and shirt.
“Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Maddie stood in the doorway, glass of wine in hand.
He snatched up a cloth and tried to wipe away the sauce before inspecting his burned fingers. “Everything is under control.”
She placed the glass on the counter and came over to inspect the mess. She peered at his hand and glanced up at him. “You’ve burned yourself?”
“It’s nothing.”
When she took her hand in his and dragged him to the sink to stick it under cold water, he was powerless to stop her. The way her soft hand held his made him feel about as strong as a dandelion in the wind.
She held his hand under the tap until his fingers felt numb. He tried to draw away but she kept his hand firm. “Just a little longer.”
To be honest, he could stand there all day, holding her hand, tracing the gentle curves of her cheek with his gaze and remembering how he used to skim his fingers over the cute dimples in them, but he needed to get the steaks cooking and the potatoes were going to burn if he wasn’t careful.
A smile curved across her face. “Do you remember when you set fire to your butt?”
He half-groaned, half-chuckled. He was never going to live that night down. They’d stolen some fireworks from his dad’s shed and taken them to the edge of the woods to light. It had gone great until one tipped over at the last minute and struck a tree. As he tried to put it out, the tail of his shirt had caught alight. It hadn’t really done any damage but their friends had loved to describe the way he ran around with his butt on fire.
&
nbsp; “I remember.” He managed to slide his hand out from hers and turn off the tap before drying it on a towel. “I also remember you laughing at me while I went up in flames.”
Her eyes grew soft as she gazed up at him. “I knew you’d be okay. You always were. You were invincible.”
Sawyer wasn’t. Never had been. But while he told Maddie a lot, she never knew quite how bad things were at home. His reckless ways had been a good way to forget the way his dad treated him. And yes, he was old enough now to admit that he’d hoped it would get his father’s attention. Of course, it’d never worked. The only attention he received was negative. Thank God he’d stopped trying to hit him once he’d grown big enough to fight back.
None of that mattered now. Not when Maddie stared at him with doe-like eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been interested in staring into a woman’s eyes. Maybe never. So much time had passed but when he looked into those hazel eyes, he remembered his best friend and realised she was still there. He knew he’d missed her, but until this moment, he hadn’t realised how much.
“We had some good times, huh?” he said, turning away to check on the potatoes.
He righted the pan and inspected the contents. There would be just enough sauce, thank God. Then he put a griddle on the hob and got the steaks ready to cook.
“Yes, we did.” The words were soft and sad. They made his heart ache. “So,” she said brightly, “is it nice to be back? Did you miss Ballicliff?”
Sawyer lifted a shoulder. “I missed you.” He shot a pointed look her way before reaching for the steaks and putting them on the sizzling griddle pan.
The truth was, city life had been wearing thin. But where else was he going to go? His publisher was in London so it was useful to be close by and the thought of returning to his father’s home didn’t appeal at all. As far as he was concerned, that place would have been better off being demolished. He had no fond memories of it.
Maddie didn’t seem to know what to say, so he saved her from making conversation. “I’d better change.” He flicked down the heat and eyed the food. “I’ll serve everything up when I come down. Why don’t you sit?”
“Do you need me to do anything?”
“Just sit.”
“Sawyer,” she called as he was halfway out of the kitchen, “is the bathroom upstairs?”
“Yep, right at the top of the stairs.”
He hurried to change, cursing himself and his dumb luck. He’d spent too damn long choosing this shirt as well. Now his best jeans were covered in sauce too. The cottage had two bedrooms, both small and both with low beams. Thankfully, he remembered to duck this time. He had opted for the one facing out across the harbour and had left the curtains open so he could see the lights from the houses opposite.
Ballicliff was built so the houses were mostly on the hills either side of the harbour. It meant a lot of steep steps and roads connected the village and the quaint look attracted a lot of tourists. Luckily, he’d been able to throw a lot of money at a holiday cottage company and they managed to pull some strings for him to get him this house at the last minute. Even if his father’s house had been in good condition, he sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to stay in it.
Pulling out a clean, dark blue shirt, he laid it out, found some clean jeans and unbuttoned his soiled ones. He stripped quickly down to his briefs and flung them on an empty chair that matched the rest of the room. The bedroom was as quaint as the rest of the house with oak furniture and pale blue, floral bedding. He supposed that probably appealed to holiday-makers but it didn’t do much for him.
A creak of the steps told him Maddie was coming up to use the bathroom.
He drew on his jeans and began to do them up. He paused on the second button. The door to the bathroom hadn’t shut yet. What was she doing? He listened carefully this time and there was another squeak of floorboards. He held his breath. Was she outside his bedroom? Sawyer glanced in the mirror and realised he’d left the door ajar.
As nonchalantly as he could, he slowly finished doing up his jeans. It felt as though the air had become thick and heavy when he spotted her standing outside his bedroom. She was watching him.
By some miracle, he managed not to grin. Triumph burst through his chest and his ego begged him to do a fist-pump. Well, if she wanted to watch him, he’d let her. He was in good shape thanks to rock-climbing and swimming. Both of them helped him when he ran out of steam with the books.
He hoped she liked what she saw.
Turning, he made a show of picking up his clothes and folding them. Then he reached for his clean shirt and took his time slipping his arms into the sleeves and doing up the cuffs. He kept his head bowed so she couldn’t see his knowing smirk. He didn’t look to see if she was still there—watching. He knew she was. He felt it in his bones.
When he’d done the last button, he lifted his head and found her there, frozen at the top of the stairs, staring at him. Her eyes widened as their gazes clashed but she didn’t run. Not yet. For the space of several hard, painful heartbeats she didn’t look away. Then a flicker of something came over her face and she spun away toward the bathroom.
Sawyer thrust a hand through his hair, pushed the door shut and leaned against it. What was she doing to him? How in the hell was he meant to show what a decent, marriageable man he was when she was torturing him with long looks like that?
Playing with her had been a mistake but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He kept wanting to toy with her and yet somehow he ended up the one suffering. Now he was as hard as a stone and fighting the desire to grab her on her way out of the bathroom and throw her on the bed.
Not the way to win her over.
The bathroom door opened and he held his breath, waiting for her footsteps. He heard her pause outside the bedroom. Every muscle in his body stiffened. Another creak and then footsteps on the stairs. He relaxed and smirked at himself. Hiding from his date? What an idiot he was.
Chapter Five
Hands in her lap, Maddie tried to appear as though she hadn’t just been caught sneaking cookies out of the cookie jar. Her entire body felt warm and prickly. She heard his bedroom door open and footsteps on the stairs. Taking a quick gulp of the wine, she shoved her hands back onto her lap and concentrated on breathing.
Breathing. Who’d have thought something so natural would become so hard at the sight of Sawyer practically naked. Every inch of him was hard, sculpted. A slash of a scar skimmed his ribs from where he’d been swimming too close to the rocks once and that ink she’d been so curious about did indeed creep into his chest in tribal patterns. And the V heading down into his jeans...
Oh God.
He came into the kitchen and she couldn’t look at him. How stupid must she have looked, standing there gaping at him? He probably thought she was that desperate that she had to get her kicks where she could.
Maybe mentioning marriage to someone gave them gawping privileges?
Darn. She didn’t think so.
The fact was, she liked what she saw very, very much. Not only did he excite her in ways she’d forgotten, he also sparked her desire in a way no man ever had. She suppressed a sigh and circled the wine glass with her finger while Sawyer served up dinner.
The meal was beautifully prepared. Simple but done with an elegance she’d never have expected from him. Maddie found herself watching him closely as he poured the sauce over her steak.
He’d changed. He cooked and he seemed kind of serious. What else didn’t she know about him? He’d always had that sort of brooding thing going on but he’d never failed to do something fun and outrageous to counteract that.
Yes, he was sexy and she wanted him more than she wanted chocolate at that time of the month, but that didn’t mean she wanted to dive into a relationship with him. Did he really deserve a second chance after what he did to her?
She picked up the steak knife and gave him a smile.
“Is the steak okay?”
Maddie lifted he
r gaze from the meal and nodded quickly. “Yes, yes it’s beautiful.”
“You haven’t touched it yet.”
“Sorry, I was just...uh...thinking about the house.”
Disappointment flared in his eyes. “Of course.”
“I’d like to come by and look at the inside if you don’t mind.”
He forked in some steak and nodded.
“It will help me figure out what needs to be done.”
“That’s fine. I’m not busy.”
“You were lucky to be able to take so much time off work,” she said and took a mouthful. “Sawyer, my God, this sauce is so good.”
The red wine sauce was tangy, rich and beautifully done even if there wasn’t quite enough of it.
He gave her a depreciate smile. “I’m no chef but the few dishes I can make, I’m pretty good at.”
“Is this what you do? Cook?”
Sawyer chuckled. “No. I’m a writer.”
“A writer? But you didn’t even like English at school.”
Inwardly, she cringed. Why did every word out of her mouth sound like an insult? The truth was, she was struggling to connect old Sawyer and new Sawyer. All that joined them right now was devastating good looks and a way of drawing her in that made her feel like she was drowning—willingly.
“I got into it when I moved to London. I was at a loose end for a while, working as a waiter and I passed the time by writing.”
“So would I know any of your articles?”
His top lip curled slightly. “Not likely.”
“Oh. But you must be doing okay to be able to take time off?”
Was that rude too? She resisted the need to do a face palm. Had she just outright asked him how much he earned? It wasn’t as if she needed to worry now. The shop didn’t earn much but her lottery winnings would help if she was savvy with them. Besides, he’d said he could afford to renovate the house so he had to be doing quite well for himself.