Worth The Effort (The Worth Series Book 4: A Copper Country Romance)

by Mara Jacobs

  “And yet here we are, watching him. Well before five.”

  Twain shrugged. “I thought it’d be good for you to be outside.” He smiled at her. “And yes, I wanted to watch him.”

  When he took her home, he sat her in front of the light box while he put another load of her laundry in and brought the load he’d done earlier up to her room.

  “Okay, I’ve got to go pick up Matty at the hill, but I can drop him off at home and bring you back some dinner or something,” he said, entering the kitchen as she turned off the light box.

  “No, but thank you. I’ve got some chicken breasts in the freezer I’ll thaw out.”

  He seemed hesitant to leave. She walked to the big man and kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you for today,” she said quietly. “It helped a lot.”

  “Good, I’m glad,” he said. He kissed the top of her head and headed to the foyer. She followed him and watched as he put on his coat and boots.

  “Please let me know if you need anything,” he added as he stood in the doorway. “I’ll be here in a second.”

  Again, the right words came from the wrong damn Beck.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounding yourself with assholes.

  ~ William Gibson

  Late Sunday afternoon, Sawyer put his phone down on the counter. Again.

  Christ, why wouldn’t Twain answer his damn phone?

  Nothing since the one short text from him last night: “She’s fine, and you’re a dick.” Which did make him feel better—well, not the dick part. But he already knew that.

  He knew it down to his soul, but the vision of lifting Molly’s mitten from the snow and seeing all the blood had played through his mind on a never-ending loop since Friday night when Deni had called.

  And he knew he just couldn’t go through it all again. He needed to distance himself, or this time he surely would go mad.

  And he knew how to distance himself. He’d done it after Molly’s death, pulling away from the business that, with Andy, they’d grown together. Extracting himself from his family. He knew all about distance.

  But he loved Deni and needed to at least know that she was okay. Thus the calls to Twain and Alison.

  Sawyer hadn’t heard from Twain since the “dick” text, neither by text nor picking up when Sawyer had called him. Numerous times.

  Shit, anything could have happened since Twain saw Deni yesterday.

  His gut twisted, his breathing grew labored, but he heaved himself from his chair. “Come on, Luce. We need to go see Deni,” he said, and his dog rose excitedly from the floor.

  Three sharp barks from Lucy were the only notice Sawyer had before Twain burst through his door, looked wildly around the room. Seeing Sawyer, he charged and pushed him up against a wall.

  Sawyer hadn’t seen his fun-loving brother act like this in a lot of years, not since he and Liv first started having problems. Why would he—

  “What happened to her? What happened to Deni?” Sawyer yelled at his little brother, grabbing the front of his coat, much like Twain held him.

  Twain pushed him harder into the wall—not the little brother any longer. “Nothing’s wrong. She’s good. Matty and I just had dinner with her before I dropped Matty off.”

  Sawyer relaxed, his grip on Twain loosening, until Twain once again pushed him into the wall, this time pinning him there.

  “You, on the other hand, are a complete and total asshole.”

  Sawyer pushed back, which was like pushing against a brick wall. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t spent every waking moment—and they’ve all been waking, believe me—thinking about what a dick I’m being? How the woman I love needs me and because I just can’t go through it again, I leave her hanging?” His hands full of Twain’s coat, he pushed again.

  Twain pushed right back, the framing on the unfinished wall behind him digging into Sawyer’s shoulders. “You love her? You seriously love her?”

  “Yeah, so?” Push.

  “Then you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought. I could kind of see you not wanting to do the heavy lifting with a chick you’ve only been on a few dates with, if that’s all it’s going to be.”

  “That’s not all it’s going to be,” Sawyer responded. “Not with her.”

  Push. “That’s not what I’d say after seeing her yesterday and today. I’d say she’s done with your sorry ass.”

  Which was Sawyer’s worst fear, and one he’d been obsessing about all day. He took that fear out on Twain, pushing even harder—hard enough to have his own back finally away from the wall.

  “What the fuck do you know about relationships? How would you even be able to tell? Liv kicked your cheating ass out the door eight years ago.” He saw his brother flinch, and Sawyer knew he’d hit below the belt. But he felt like he’d been sucker-punched, too, and couldn’t help but share the pain. “I’ll tell you about relationships. I never wanted to be a pussy-chasing hound like you, Twain.” Push. “I wanted to be a husband, a partner, a best friend to the woman I loved. And I was.” Push. “But I also wanted to grow old with her, to have a family with her. To be a father to a little girl who had her mother’s eyes and her father’s curiosity. And I’m not.” The fire went out of him then, and he dropped his hands from Twain’s coat. “And I’m not,” he whispered this time. Meeting his brother’s eyes, knowing Twain could see the pain Sawyer felt.

  Twain’s grip on him loosened, but he gave Sawyer one last shake. “But you could be, Sawyer. You could be.” He let go of him, turned, and sat in Sawyer’s only chair. He pulled off his coat. Sawyer went out to the empty kitchen, grabbed two beers from the mini fridge he’d bought for the interim, and handed one to Twain when he returned to the living room. He took his and sat his ass on the newly laid floor. At least he’d put his panic to good use yesterday.

  He took a drink of his beer, then looked at his brother. “What is it about me, Twain? Why do I fall in love with women who…who…are in pain? Women I can’t help?”

  Twain took a swig of beer, then held a hand up in a “stop” motion. “I saw Molly at her worst, remember? Deni is not Molly. This is not the same, Soy Sauce.”

  The old childhood nickname, one his brother hadn’t called him in at least twenty-five years, made a small smile rise from Sawyer.

  “I know that, I really do. And yet the fear is the same, Twain. The feeling of helplessness is the same. I can’t help her…and I can’t stand to watch her in pain.”

  “But you’re going to have to, if you want to be with her.” Twain took another drink of beer and then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “It’s time to man up, Soy.”

  “Christ, this isn’t about just doing the right thing. This is about keeping my sanity. I just about lost it last time, you know that. And you know what? I’d do it. I’d be willing to lose my fucking mind if it would help. But I know it won’t.”

  Twain nodded, understanding, knowing. “But you’ve got to ask yourself this: Is living without fear, without the feeling of helplessness at times, better than living without Deni?”

  He got up from the chair, walked over to Sawyer, tousled his hair—much like Sawyer had done to him when they’d been little kids—and then let himself out.

  Leaving Sawyer on his ass in an empty house…alone.

  Sawyer wasn’t in their Monday morning status meeting. Andy didn’t mention him at all, but as they were finishing up, one of the guys asked if Sawyer was now back full time.

  “It’s still being worked out,” Andy said. “Though I do expect him in later today.”

  So, she would see him today after all. She’d spent yesterday thinking about what she’d say to him when she saw him.

  Funny how her Sundays were going lately. Two weeks ago she did some deep thinking about what she wanted out of a relationship—out of Sawyer. And boldly told him the next day at Tootie�
��s.

  Last Sunday, they’d been having sex in the sauna in the morning and beers with Twain at Tootie’s in the afternoon. With Deni knowing on some level that she was already in love with him.

  And yesterday, she had a late dinner with Twain and his son and thought about how she could go about falling out of love with Sawyer Beck.

  No protractor or CAD drawing or any other feat of engineering was going to help with that one.

  Alison had called her to check in yesterday—apparently while she and Petey were driving back from Detroit—and Deni assured her that she felt much better. She relayed to her therapist that she’d gotten out of bed at a normal time (for a Sunday, so like ten), had showered (even without the threat of Twain on the other side of the door), had done the light box, and was going to meet a friend and his son for dinner later (a last-minute decision when Twain had called her and asked).

  She’d enjoyed meeting Twain’s son, Matt, and it was nice to see the deep bond between father and son. But it only drove home to her that she was in love with the wrong damn Beck brother.

  But loving Sawyer wasn’t enough.

  Sawyer came in around two. Lucy stopped at Deni’s cube for some affection, but Sawyer did not. No IMs. Nothing.

  He was making it a lot easier on her, that’s for sure, she thought, her irritation starting to rise. And yes, in a way he was just following her edict to not draw attention to their relationship in the office. But still.

  She worked late, catching up on things from missing work on Friday, but also hoping Sawyer would stay, too, so she could say her piece and go home.

  And start falling out of love with him. More mashed potatoes would definitely be needed. Like, Idaho quantities.

  Sawyer did stay late, and by six-thirty, they were the only two people in the building. She IM’d him “Can I see you in the conference room?” and got an almost-immediate and affirmative response.

  Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she walked into the room and turned the light on, then leaned against the table, waiting.

  “Why in here?” Sawyer asked when he entered the room. He eyed a chair but in the end stayed standing. “Why didn’t you just come to my office?”

  She shrugged. “Neutral turf.”

  He moved to the wall nearest the corner of the table where she was and leaned against it. “So, we need turfs? It’s going to be that bad?”

  She relaxed her shoulders a little. “Remember that first day at Tootie’s? When I told you I needed more than a snack?”

  “Yes.”

  “You seemed to appreciate that I was being honest with you. That I came out and told you what I needed and what my expectations were.”

  “I was. It was refreshing. And I liked knowing where I stood.”

  “Well, good, ’cause you’re about to get a big dose of honest.”

  He moved from the wall. “Deni, wait. Before you—”

  She held a hand up, stopping his words as well as his movements. “No, Sawyer. I have to get this out.”

  He stopped, standing halfway between Deni and the wall. He motioned for her to go on.

  “I’m not pissed anymore about you not showing up or that you sent Twain instead—who has been absolutely lovely, by the way.”

  There was just enough of a flare from him at the mention of Twain to give her hope—if he still cared enough to get a teensy bit jealous…could he…?

  “I was pissed. Really pissed. But I do understand what you were going through. What you have gone through. I can only imagine what was running through your mind.”

  He took another step, “Deni, you have no—” She held the hand up again, and he stopped.

  “But I’m not Molly. My…disorder is mild, and it’s temporary.”

  “I know that. I get that.”

  She nodded, knowing that he did on an intellectual level. But she also knew that the emotional level was a whole different ball game.

  “And you need to come to terms with the fact that you can’t fix me. I can’t fix me. And, quite frankly, the ten pounds and lost winter aside, I don’t really want to be fixed—I like how I am.”

  His face gentled and his voice was soft when he said, “So do I.”

  “But what I want—no, what I need—is someone who is going to fight for me—for us. I need someone who will hold my hand when it needs holding and who will leave me alone when I need that. Someone who will carry me to the shower and make me get in when I don’t want to.” His eyes narrowed at that. “And who will wait for me to get over the humps that need to be gotten over. And I’m not just talking about the sad humps. I’m talking about all the stuff that life throws you on any given day.”

  “I…I…” He took a step closer.

  Say you can do that. Please, please, say you can do that. Some part of her was desperately holding out hope that this conversation was going have a different outcome than she’d calculated.

  He didn’t take another step.

  Please, please, please. Be the guy I know you can be.

  “I don’t know if I can do it, Deni,” he said, regret in his voice.

  She wasn’t mad, and she couldn’t blame him for being honest when she’d been so honest with him. In a way, he’d saved them the couple of years, probably, before they would have realized it wasn’t going to work.

  And perhaps a whole lot of heartbreak, although she wasn’t sure heartbreak a few years down the road would be any less painful than it was now.

  “Thank you for being honest,” she said, then rose from the table. She’d have to walk past him, smell that pine-tree scent, and she wasn’t sure she could bear it, so she waited for him to leave first.

  “I want to, Deni. God, how I want to. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Only you can decide that, Sawyer. I believe you could, and I could fight for that—fight for you to realize it.” She sighed, wishing she’d just sucked it up and walked past him. “But I’m tired, and I don’t want to have to fight for love.” She took a deep breath and walked past him. Screw his lovely, outdoorsy scent. And even though she knew it probably wasn’t true, but only how she felt right now, she said as she passed, “And, quite frankly, I’m not sure you’re worth fighting for.”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today.

  ~ Mark Twain

  “He probably is, you know,” Alison said at their Friday session. “Worth fighting for. He’s one of the good guys. But you were wise to know you didn’t want to take that on.”

  “Hmmm. I’m not feeling real wise right about now.”

  Alison shrugged. “Wisdom and people in love don’t always go hand in hand.”

  “I’m finding that out.”

  “Still, though…pretty good parting line,” Alison said.

  Deni smiled. “Yeah, I thought so, too.”

  “And how has the rest of the week gone?”

  Deni shrugged. “Well, I haven’t barricaded myself in my bedroom with nothing but carbs and dirty bedding.”

  “So, you’ve got that going for you,” Alison teased, making Deni smile.

  She shrugged. “It’s been okay. Andy sent an email out on Tuesday that Sawyer would be working the afternoons for the foreseeable future until he had some personal projects cleaned up. I’m assuming that meant making the house in Laurium sellable.”

  “And after that? Back full time?”

  “The email didn’t say. So, I see him come in for the afternoons. I usually leave before he does. His office is in the back of the building. We really don’t even see each other. His dog comes and takes a nap in my cube but always goes back to him when I leave.” Still, it had been a small balm to her heartache to have Lucy literally underfoot.

  “And the others in the office?”

  “Charlie could tell something was up. And he’s offered to take me out for a beer so I can cry on his shoulder, but I haven’t taken him up on it. Yet.” She didn’t want to take advantage of Cha
rlie, but she might just need that shoulder soon. “I think everyone else in the office just thought we’d been flirting around, a couple of dates, and it didn’t work out—no big deal. I don’t think they understood that…”

  “You’d fallen in love?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and for the first time since talking with Sawyer on Monday, Deni started to cry. She didn’t need to hold out for Charlie’s shoulder after all.

  Alison waited patiently while Deni cried it out. Not big, gasping sobs, just quiet tears that streamed down her face until Alison handed her a box of tissues.

  They sat like that, not saying a word, until what was surely well after Deni’s time was up. Finally, she cleared her throat, wiped the last of her tears away, and said, “I’ll be okay.”

  Alison nodded. “Yes, I know you will be. I’m glad you do, too.”

  “It just sucks right now, you know?”

  “I know. It’s going to suck for a long time. And then it won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  Alison smiled. “No.”

  Deni laughed, and a last half-sob caught as a hiccup.

  “But I think so, I really do,” Alison added. “And I truly believe that if two people are supposed to be together, they find their way back to each other.”

  “And if they’re not? Supposed to be together?”

  Alison shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I told you once that I sucked at guy stuff on a personal level, right?”

  Deni laughed again.

  They went through the regular assessment questions. When it came time for an “assignment,” Alison waved it away.

  “I think you’ve been well out of your comfort zone enough for a while. Be gentle with yourself this next week. And call if you need me.”

  She couldn’t go back to the office. She just couldn’t see Sawyer after crying about him for over an hour. She pulled out her phone and called Sue.