by Emily Childs
Yesterday has me like this. To think of kicking up the passion—I’d be a goner.
And since I’m here to prove what she lost, falling for the girl who destroyed me again would be inconvenient at best.
“Sawyer!” Rafe Whitfield waves from behind the glass windows inside the shop, hands still covered in oil from the day’s work.
His twin brother is on the phone next to him, and Zac is behind him. They all wave.
“Hey,” I say, as Rafe comes into the front lobby. “How’s it going, man?”
Before things ended with Dot, I met Rafe a few times, even offered a bit of pathetic relationship advice. Like I knew anything, since not long after mine went up in flames. Still, he’s never called out the elephant in the room, and treats me the same.
“Now, I thought you weren’t driving your own car.” He takes an appointment planner off the desk.
“We’re not,” I say. “I’m taking a massive risk and leaving my car with my cousin, Maddie. She got into town and I want to make sure it’s all good for her. Figure it’s time for an oil change.”
Rafe gives me a knowing look. “Your cousin. A woman?”
I lift a brow. “Last I checked.”
He chuckles and gives a little wave as if he’s erasing the strangeness of his question. “So, you have the keys?”
I hand over my car keys and Rafe takes them to a broad guy who says nothing, then Rafe returns with Zac and August on his heels.
“Want a drink?” Rafe asks. “I’d offer a beer, but our boss has an issue with drinking on the job.”
“Huh, wonder why?” Zac grumbles. “Big equipment, missing limbs. Sure, let’s get wasted.”
I laugh and accept a bottled water. I guess they’re all going on a break. Not that any other customers are in the shop. Zac sits behind the desk and scribbles things in the appointment book while I make idle chat with Rafe and August. I like Dot’s friends and would rather they were coming tonight than even Liam.
“How’s married life?” I ask Rafe after a while. “I was glad to hear you and Olive tied the knot.”
Rafe grins. “Why? Since the last time you saw us we were pretending to be together.”
“I wasn’t going to say it,” I admit, with a grin.
Rafe’s face has a touch of red in his color. “We’re doing good.”
“Of course things are good,” August says. “Rafe is on stud duty.”
“Don’t say it like that. Ollie and I are trying is all.”
I genuinely smile. “That’s great news.”
“Not the least enjoyable thing I’ve ever done,” Rafe says with a smirk.
“Speaking of wives,” Zac says, flicking his brow. “Just got off the phone with Jo and she wanted me to tell you that if you try any funny business with Dottie tonight, she is loaded with syringes and has connections. Don’t ask me what that means.”
My chest squeezes, but I play off my disquiet with a smile. “Yeah? I’ve got to say your wife scares me, and I’m pretty sure she’s proud of it.”
Zac laughs and does a quick check in the shop for a status update on my car. “She used to scare me too. Well, that last comment she made still scares me.”
“You going to be okay with Dot?” Rafe asks sincerely.
Unspoken words between us grow heavy. Not once has anyone here mentioned Dot and I used to be inseparable. I know they think it, I know they’re friends with her. But I’m still grateful it’s left unspoken, or they’d see right through me. See the anger, the resentment. They’d see the plans I have to get back at the woman. Like Kyler, they’d call me out for being someone I never wanted to be.
“There is a lot to do. We probably won’t see much of each other when we’re there.”
“Good luck,” August says sardonically. “If Jo scares you, I bet Dot’s terrifying.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Sure it will,” Zac says. He flicks his brows like he’s means something deeper.
Before I can say anything, the mechanic who handled my car comes out and informs me it’s all ready. I hurry and pay, leaving a tip that Zac protests as I back out of the shop. “You open early for me, you get tipped.”
He mutters something under his breath, but he’s chuckling.
“Hey,” Rafe says at the garage door. “I’m not one to get in the middle of things, but I wanted to ask how you are. Being around Dot again, I mean.”
I’m taken aback. In a year I can count on my hand how many people have asked me how I handled the breakup. None. Unless I account for the few “Sorry, that sucks” comments I earned from Liam and my oldest brother, Shane. It’s like because I was the one who cut things off, I must be fine. I’m not.
I take long enough to answer, the quiet is officially awkward, and I decide to settle on the truth. “It’s not always easy.”
“I was sorry when it didn’t work out for y’all.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Have fun, and if you could make it a little interesting, it would help my home life.”
I scoff. “What do you mean?”
Rafe rolls his eyes. “As much as the girls act like they’re all put out with you, they’re all secretly hoping you’ll play out a romantic drama in real time. I doubt Olive will remember she has a husband tonight, she’ll be so focused on getting Dot updates. Make them happy, yeah?”
He’s joking, but part of me would love to do some grand gesture to fix everything that fell apart between us. The idea hurts. I force a smile and slip behind the steering wheel. “I’ll do my best.”
Heading home, a weight grows heavy, my shoulders slump, and I force out thoughts and memories. Laughing and kisses that made my head spin won’t do when I need to be detached this weekend. Twenty minutes and we’ll be together. My hands are sweaty just thinking about this trip. I need to be cool, armored. Utterly unavailable to feel anything for Dorothy-Ann Gardener.
And like that, I’m back to thinking of how perfect it felt to stumble with her in my arms.
Chapter 9
Dot
Shirts and a pair of unflattering flannel pajama pants jut out of my overnight bag, but there isn’t time to fix it. I’m running terribly late. In the end, I shove everything into one big messy bunch and zip it shut. It looks like there is a basketball in my small suitcase and I have no doubt I’ll be nothing but a wrinkled mess with my change of clothes tomorrow. I have some class and keep the dress I’ll be wearing at dinner on a hanger, at least.
Itinerary: the painful drive to Atlanta, check-in, dinner with chauvinistic men (according to Sawyer), sleep. In the morning there are supposed meetings, but I’m at a loss to what they are. All I know is I’m meant to be polished and ready by ten.
I’ve avoided sightings of Sawyer since the horridly perfect kiss in his kitchen. I lost control, maybe my mind, for a second, that’s all it was. I can ignore the flash of heat, the painful desire in his eyes. Goodness, scratch that—simply thinking of it all has my insides simmering like a Sunday stew.
With a quick scan of my belongings, I determine there isn’t much more I can do at this point. It’s after eight, and I’m officially overdue at the blue palace.
I make sure my hair is presentably tied back in a ponytail, I’ve brushed, mouthwashed, deodorized, and I have no more excuses but to face Sawyer Lanford. As much as I resist, he’s the real reason for dragging my feet.
Outside, the ocean is being cruel. Air heavily perfumed with clean, salty breeze. A bit of wind to whiten the caps on the swells. No one on the sand as far as the eye can see. But no, I don’t have time to squish the sand in my toes. No more distractions.
I turn to lock the door, and when I’m ready to bound down my steps, I’m met with a new car in the driveway.
I freeze, watching the black sedan stop, and the back door open. Someday—I swear—the man is going to stop taking my breath away. There’s something alpha-sexy about Sawyer in a suit, but it’s a wholly different game with him in a polo shirt and nice jeans. He doesn�
��t wear short sleeves often during business because of the calligraphed tattoo of the word breathe on his forearm. I’m not complaining. Not at all.
“You added color to it,” I say without thinking, nodding to the blue and red around the words.
Sawyer glances at his arm. “Yeah.”
“Any new ones.” Why am I asking?
Sawyer hesitates. “No. Changed a few is all. Cover ups and all that.”
Bile teases the back of my throat. He did cover up mine. I figured, but it still burns like he reached in and took out my heart.
“Right,” I say in a whisper. White knuckling my overnight bag, I make my way to the car, head lifted. “I thought I’d be meeting you.”
Sawyer goes to the trunk and reaches for my bag, which I refuse to hand over, not out of pride, but because there is no way a gross sweat mark isn’t on my black handle right now.
“We needed to get going,” he tells me.
I snort. “You keep a tight schedule. I’m not even five minutes late.”
Sawyer slams the trunk, smiling, but it’s more rigid than a typical friendly smile. His guard is up, no doubt. “Blame Liam.” He lowers his voice. “He wants to take Veronica to see the sights before tonight.”
I smirk at his tone, catching the drift. “Ah, the sights. Right.”
Okay. Maybe if it’s casual banter like this all weekend, then we can do this. Since losing Sawyer, I’ve become rather skilled at hiding how it pains me to even mention his name. Now that he’s back in town, I’ve had to bulk up my ability to hide my disquiet in his presence. I think I’m doing a solid job, to be honest.
The interior of the car reeks, though. Too much masculine meshed with an overpowering vanilla musk. I crack the window the second I sit down, wishing Sawyer would strip off his shirt and let me sniff the rugged hint of his skin the entire way. Liam clearly is trying to impress his lady friend, and she must be doing the same.
Before I even have my seatbelt on, the woman spins around in her seat, chomping a stick of gum loudly. “Hey, girl. Veronica, but you can call me Nic.”
“Not Ronnie?”
She lifts a brow. “Why would you call me Ronnie?”
“Never mind. I’m Dorothy-Ann, but you can call me Dot.”
Nic beams her toothy smile at me. Her hair is straight and colored a pretty mahogany. I think she could’ve toned down the eyeliner, and maybe had a shirt that covered more than a quarter of her enviable top half, but she’s pretty.
“So, Dot, while the guys are busy, we should hit the dance club they have at this place. I Googled it, and it looks amaze.”
I furrow my brow. “Tonight we have the dinner.”
Nic giggles and waves me away. “After, silly. They’ll be all business.”
“I’m here for business, though,” I correct.
Nic gives me a look as if I slapped her across the face. “You’re not a plus one?”
I’m sure my face is redder than Veronica’s lips. I feel Sawyer’s eyes peeling back my skin, even Liam flicks his eyes in the rearview mirror. Could this be any more awkward? I shake my head. “No, I’m not a plus one.”
“Go you, girl. I’d be weirded out bunking with some rando guy on a business trip. Oh, well, we can still have fun, just us girls I’m sure.”
Maybe Veronica is a Jedi because I’m pretty sure she force-slapped me and I didn’t even see it coming. “Excuse me? What rando guy?”
“Liam?” Sawyer grumbles.
Liam pulls onto the highway, avoiding the rearview mirror now, and shrugs. “What? It’s no big deal, but Nic is my guest, so we’re obviously rooming together.”
Like magnets, Sawyer and I flip our faces to each other. Nononono. My skin feels too tight and the car shrinks into a compact. No one said anything about spending the night in the same room with Sawyer.
Sawyer’s jaw tightens. What is he thinking? I don’t know because all he does is face his window and say, “We’ll see if they can split the rooms when we get there.”
He sounds so angry, like this is my fault. He ought to have a long chat with his stupid business partner for switching the rooms last minute. As far as I’m concerned, Sawyer can sleep in the car if it’s so unbearable to be in my presence.
Most of the drive consists of Veronica asking questions, Liam flirting, Sawyer politely answering, and me being subtly scrutinized now that Nic knows I’m not on a couple’s excursion. Like I’m some kind of threat to her romantic getaway with Liam.
“What is it you do exactly, Dot?” She spins in her seat again, smiling.
“I’m the business manager of a clinic working with Lanford & Hewitt.”
“Really? So, you like all the boring business talk we’ll be having tonight?”
“Sometimes,” I admit. “It can actually be interesting. I’ve always been a bit of statistics and marketing nerd.”
“I bet it’s a killer for dating,” she giggles. “Men are always so intimidated when a woman can outsmart them in the boardrooms, am I right? Or do you have a guy who likes you to be boss?”
My mouth sort of gapes like a trout a few times. An hour into knowing each other and she’s asking me about my dominance in relationships? I guess I can appreciate bluntness, I’m not known for being too reserved, but it’s like dipping my head in a bucket of ice water talking like this with my ex-lover a foot away. I hate that naturally my eyes flick to Sawyer because he’s watching me closely, those hazel eyes are like hot coals, and I realize he’s waiting for the answer as much as Veronica.
Play it cool. I’m practically a cucumber. “That must be my problem, Nic,” I say with a laugh. “The last guy just took off without any explanation.”
She nods, face somber. “I’m telling you, girl, it happens.”
“Maybe there were reasons,” Sawyer blurts out.
Oh. My. Lanta. We’re doing this—the passive aggressive attack on each other. My insides turn in knots, adding a bit more armor for the battle about to go down. I tilt my head. “You think? Hmm, I’d say no matter the reasons, a man ought to have the guts to say something. Even if a girlboss is intimidating.”
“I hear that,” Nic adds.
Sawyer adjusts in his seat, so he’s facing me. “Maybe your guy liked that side of you, but there was something else that pushed you apart. Something you’re not seeing.”
“Hey now,” Veronica referees. “Don’t be placing all the blame on the woman. He walked away, right, Dot?”
I nod, brows raising as I keep my eyes on Sawyer. “Right, Nic.”
Liam’s grip tightens on the steering wheel and he opens his mouth to say something, but we’ll never know what it was because Sawyer jumps in headfirst to our sparring match. “You can’t put all the blame on him, though, Nic. You don’t have both sides.”
“Sounds like Dot wanted to hear his side, and he ghosted her.” She peeks at me over her seat. “I’d say you slid past a big, fat mistake, girl.”
My throat is hoarse, softer now. I can’t look at Sawyer. “Still would’ve been nice to know the reasons.”
“Maybe doing so would’ve caused more trouble than it was worth,” he whispers back.
Oh, he got a hit right to the heart.
I pinch my lips. “In my case, I’d rather hear the good, the bad, and the ugly because it was worth everything.”
Our voices must have faded too low for Liam and Veronica to hear since they’re talking about the size of the homes whizzing past by now. I hold Sawyer’s glare for half a breath before turning my back to him, folding my arms over my body to bar him out.
I think it’s safe to say this business relationship is not off to a great start.
***
The front lobby is bustling with women.
All types, old, young, in between. Some who’ve already enjoyed a cocktail or two even though it’s just after lunch. I hang back in the corner, clutching my suitcase, and watch gaggles of women enter one of the event rooms the resort offers. Outside is a printed sign with the title What W
omen Want Expo.
I’d like to join them, because the way my heart and body keep flip-flopping to a certain smug, annoyingly frustrating man I think it’s high time I learn what this woman wants. We didn’t say much after our passive aggressive tongue lashing. Probably best, since I feel more lost than I did this morning. Sawyer has reasons for breaking up with me and he all but confessed he isn’t telling me for a purpose. Who does something like that? I’d rather not know he’s holding something back because now my head is spinning a million miles a minute and I can’t get it to stop.
“Oh, here they come,” Veronica croons at my side.
“How did you meet Liam?”
She snorts. “He’s basically my boss. I’m one of the financial planners, a glorified bookkeeper, really, in Raleigh.”
I lift my brow and feel bad for scrutinizing her six-inch stilettos and overwhelming cleavage and thinking something entirely else. Female solidarity and all that, but I judged a book by the cover.
She’s keen to notice. With a grin, Veronica adjusts her low top and winks. “I like to let loose outside of work. I wasn’t kidding when I said men are intimidated by brains. At least in my experience. The second I say I have an MBA guys think my idea of fun is adjusting spreadsheets. I’m actually what my mama calls, ‘bubblier than a good champagne.’”
I smile. “You know what I think, Nic? You ought to show your brains, too. If a guy can’t handle it, then he’s not worth your time.”
She laughs and hooks her arm through mine like we’re the best of friends. “Maybe I will. But next weekend. This one is all for fun, and I’ve set a strict no-work-talk policy for myself.”
Sawyer and Liam materialize through a crowd of women wearing matching shirts and deliver fresh room keys.
“Sawyer and I have a video call in an hour, but we can at least drop our bags.”
“You’re leaving?” Veronica pouts.
“Only for a bit. We have plans I won’t miss, though. Don’t you worry.”