Leather and Lace

by Jessie Evans

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “Now where were we?”

  Sawyer turned, pulse beating faster as she hooked her wrists behind his neck.

  “I think you were getting ready to give me a hello kiss,” he said, bending closer.

  Mia smiled. “That can be arranged, but I have a serious question first.”

  Sawyer straightened, knowing he needed to be farther from Mia’s lips before he’d be capable of rational thought. “Shoot.”

  Mia bit her bottom lip, and a nervous look crept into her eyes. “Well, I’ve been thinking, about how we both slept alone last night, and how that wasn’t very much fun.”

  Sawyer shook his head. “It wasn’t. I didn’t sleep for shit.”

  “Me either.” A smile flickered across Mia’s face before it disappeared. “So, like I said, I was thinking while I was setting up my surprise for Gram and a little voice inside me said, ‘Why not ask Sawyer to move in with you?’ And then I was like, ‘Self, that’s a great idea, but maybe it’s too soon.’ But then my inner voice was all like, ‘Just ask him, and let him decide before he goes and signs some dumb lease way on the other side of town.’ So…” She took a deep breath, looking up at him with a mixture of expectation and anxiety that was pretty damned cute. “What do you think?”

  “I think your inner voice is a genius,” Sawyer said, hugging her closer. “I’d love to move in, if you’re sure I won’t cramp your style.”

  “What style? You’re talking to the woman with a unicorn throw rug in her bedroom.” Mia’s grin was brighter than the sunset light slanting through the newly framed saloon windows. “But seriously, I can’t wait. I’m going to like waking up to you every day.”

  Sawyer’s chest ached with happiness. It felt like he’d been given an unexpected gift, one he appreciated even more because he hadn’t seen it coming. “I’m excited to go to bed with you every night.”

  Mia’s eyes glittered. “Me, too. And I’ve already decided to get rid of the rug. Clementine has been after me to give it to her ever since we found it at that craft sale in Austin last year, so she’ll be thrilled.”

  “You don’t have to get rid of it on my account,” Sawyer said, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m manly enough to pull off sleeping in a bedroom with a ruffled bed and a unicorn throw rug.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she sighed against his lips.

  They were seconds away from their first kiss of the day—one that had been put off a good twelve hours too long as far as Sawyer was concerned—when Mia’s phone rang again. This time it was the William Tell Overture blaring from her pocket, not a country song.

  Mia winced. “Sorry, it’s Tulsi. She’s supposed to call me when Gram leaves so I’ll have time to clear out. One second.” Mia answered the phone with a grin. “Hey, Tulsi, I’m already done, but I…” She trailed off, her smile fading away as she listened to whatever Tulsi was saying.

  Sawyer couldn’t hear the other woman, but he knew Tulsi was the bearer of bad news. He could read it in the way the warmth fled from Mia’s eyes and her skin paled beneath her summer tan.

  “You okay?” Sawyer mouthed, but Mia only pressed her lips together and dropped her eyes to the floorboards between them.

  “Just tell me, Tulsi,” Mia said. “Is it what I think it is?” Mia paused, pulling in a shaky breath. “No, I don’t want to wait until I get to my parents’ house, I want to know now.”

  Sawyer could hear the low, soothing tone in Tulsi’s voice as she answered, but Mia was looking anything but soothed. She squeezed her eyes shut, visibly struggling to control her temper before she responded. “Fine, Sawyer and I will be there in fifteen minutes. Bye.”

  She hung up without waiting for Tulsi to say goodbye back, a lapse in manners she would never indulge in unless she were really upset. Sawyer had spent enough time with Mia and Tulsi, on the mornings Tulsi came to drop off Clem at the shop, to know that Mia handled Tulsi with a gentleness she didn’t bother with in her other friendships.

  “What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked. “Is someone hurt?”

  Mia sighed. “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s…” She shook her head. “Or maybe not. I don’t know. I don’t want to start guessing until I talk to everyone. Dad called an emergency family meeting. Tulsi was already over at the house helping Mom and Gram with the plans for the silent auction Gram’s holding during the next Farmer’s Market. She said she’s going to stay until I get there in case I need her.”

  Sawyer put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing at the knots already forming there. “Good. She’ll be there, and I’ll be there. Between the two of us, we’ll have you covered.”

  Mia glanced up at him, but the moment their eyes connected, her gaze shifted away. “Thanks.”

  But she didn’t sound thankful, she sounded scared, and when she slipped from beneath his hands and crossed to grab her purse, she looked smaller than usual. Her shoulders hunched and her steps were slow and careful, not the giddy bounce he’d been greeted with when she popped out from behind the bar a few minutes ago.

  It set a bad feeling to churning in his gut. Sawyer was guessing this had something to do with Paul, the ex-boyfriend Mia had left behind in Los Angeles. Sawyer didn’t know much about Paul aside from his name, that he’d been Mia’s first love, and that they’d dated for nearly a year before things had ended badly. But he’d seen the haunted look in Mia’s eyes when she woke up from dreams with her heart slamming so hard in her chest Sawyer could feel it thump against his ribs when he pulled her close. It was the same look that paled her face now.

  It made him wish more than ever that Mia had felt comfortable telling him the entire story. If he knew what had happened with Paul, he might be able to say something to comfort her right now. Instead, all he could do was put his arm around her as they left the saloon, silently offering his support as they walked toward the gate where he’d parked his bike next to her truck.

  “Wish we’d come together,” he said. “I’d rather have you behind me on the bike right now.”

  They’d had an amazing ride out to where they’d started their river trip last weekend. They had planned to take a night ride through the desert tomorrow, but now he wasn’t sure she’d be up for any of the fun things they’d planned for this weekend. She looked like a different person from the vibrant, playful woman who had asked him to come live with her ten minutes ago, and Sawyer hated it. He hated that anyone had the power to steal Mia’s joy away, and to make him feel so powerless to protect her from the bad things in her past.

  Mia smiled a thin smile. “Me too, but I shouldn’t leave the truck here. I might need to give Tulsi and Clem a ride home later. It’s more on my way than Gram’s so…”

  Sawyer opened her door for her, wishing he could do something, anything to help her. “I’ll be right behind you, okay?”

  Mia sighed. “Maybe you shouldn’t come, after all.”

  “I want to be there,” Sawyer said, fingers tightening on the doorframe when she didn’t respond. “You just asked me to move in with you, Mia. I thought that meant you were done shutting me out.”

  She looked up, a frown pulling at her face. “Let’s not have that discussion again. I’m not feeling up to it right now, and it’s…” She trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug.

  “What?” Sawyer asked, jaw tensing. “Just say it.”

  “It’s annoying,” she said, the words flooding out in a rush of breath. “There are some things I prefer to keep private, okay? I mean, after everything you’ve told me about Heather and the phone tapping, I don’t understand why you, of all people, can’t respect that.”

  Sawyer didn’t say a word. He knew that she was lashing out at him because she was afraid, but that didn’t keep the frustration in her voice from hitting him in the chest, making his lungs ache. He hated fighting, especially when he’d done nothing wrong, but he wasn’t going to get angry and storm off. He was too worried about Mia to walk away, and he was grown up enough to know better than to indulge a kn
ee-jerk emotional reaction.

  At least not when it came to her.

  “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms at his chest. “But I’m coming to your parents’ house with you. Whether you decide to invite me into the family pow-wow, or not, is up to you, but I’m sticking with you until you know what’s wrong. And don’t tell me you don’t need me, because that’s bullshit. From the look on your face, I’m guessing you can use all the support you can get.”

  Mia wavered, frustration and embarrassment warring in her expression, but finally she sighed and stuck her key in the ignition. “Fine. I’ll see you there.”

  “See you there,” Sawyer echoed, slamming her driver’s side door. He stood back. Unless he wanted a mouthful of grit, he’d have to wait for the dust to settle in the wake of the truck before he followed her, but he didn’t like watching Mia drive away.

  It felt like this was more than a momentary parting. It felt like something that should have stayed buried had climbed out of its grave and was headed their way.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mia’s head was a hot mess.

  She spent half the drive to her parents’ house stressing about all the things this meeting could be about other than Paul—someone could have cancer, her dad and Pike’s silent feud could have erupted into another outbreak of out-and-out war, the way it had when Pike bowed out of the All-Star game to come home for Mom and Dad’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. Dad could have decided to go on that big game safari to Africa he was always threatening to book, and Mom could have packed her bags to leave him, the way she threatened to do every time Dad brought up hunting with the lions. Ever since Dad had transformed their failing cattle ranch into a prosperous weekend getaway for hunting enthusiasts, he had dreamt of hunting more exotic beasts than deer, ducks, and the occasional wild hog, and Mom had spent at least an hour a week talking him out of it.

  The other half of the drive was spent remembering the flash of pain in Sawyer’s eyes when she’d snapped at him. Sawyer was big, solid, and strong, but he was also sensitive. He always thought before he spoke, and was careful not to say things he didn’t mean. Usually, that made it easy to do the same, but she’d been so worried that Paul was up for parole—they’d said it wouldn’t happen for at least two years, but she knew the California prisons were overcrowded—that she’d lashed out without thinking.

  She had felt awful the second the words were out of her mouth, but for some reason she hadn’t been able to say she was sorry. She’d wanted to, but apologizing would have meant dropping her guard, and she didn’t know what would happen if she let go right now. It felt like anger was the only thing keeping her from dissolving into an anxiety puddle on the ground. She had never dealt with the reality that Paul would eventually be released from jail. She hadn’t dealt with most of the tumultuous emotions thinking of Paul evoked, and now that was coming back to bite her in the ass. Big time.

  Bite her in the ass, and, if she wasn’t careful, damage the best relationship she’d ever had. She needed to get her shit together, really get it together, not simply stick her head in the happy cloud she and Sawyer created together and pretend none of the bad things had ever happened.

  By the time she pulled through the gate to The Lucky Strike, drove up the long road to the lodge, and arrived at the private drive leading to her parents’ home, Mia had decided to ask Tulsi for her friend the trauma therapist’s card. She was tired of being at the mercy of her past. She wanted to be as strong as she pretended to be, and she wanted to be the kind of grounded, in-control partner Sawyer deserved.

  He really did feel like a partner, a member of her team, not just her boyfriend, or her lover. Things were electric between them in the bedroom—more electric with each passing night—but spending time with Sawyer was also like being with a friend. There were only good butterflies in her stomach when she was with him, none of the anxiety she’d felt with Paul, even in the beginning, when things had still been good between them. Sawyer was something special, the best of two worlds, and she wasn’t going to give him up without a fight.

  Even if the things she had to fight were her own demons.

  Mia parked the truck and hopped out, turning to face the front porch, where her parents, Gram, Tulsi, and Bubba—Tulsi must have called him in for additional backup—were already settled into the various swings and chairs that made the porch feel as inviting as any other part of the house. Gram and Tulsi were in a glider for two, and Bubba and Mom were settled into two wicker armchairs, while her father paced near the windows.

  As soon as Mia slammed the truck door behind her, Dad turned and moved to stand behind Mom, his hands resting on her shoulders. Even from the front drive, Mia could see that everyone wore matching grim expressions. Whatever was going on, it was definitely bad.

  She took a bracing breath, but she didn’t head for the steps. She waited until the hum of the bike approaching behind her became a rumble and Sawyer had parked beside the truck. She watched him swing off the chopper with his usual sexy beast-ish-ness, waiting until he had replaced his helmet with his Stetson before she reached out and took his hand.

  “Sorry,” she said, as his big hand tightened around hers.

  “Forgiven and forgotten,” he said, sending a rush of gratitude spreading through Mia’s chest. She hadn’t screwed things up yet. Now she just had to make sure she kept her head in the right place, no matter what kind of bad news her family and friends had to share.

  She and Sawyer walked up the porch steps hand in hand, Mia’s determination to put the past behind her growing with every step. If Paul was up for parole, then she would get her butt on a plane and go testify to all the reasons he should stay in jail for every single day of his five-year sentence. She wasn’t a helpless victim, or isolated the way she’d been before. She had wonderful friends, a loving family, and a man who cared about her, maybe even loved her.

  She could handle whatever this meeting was about, and come out swinging on the other side.

  “Lay it on me.” Mia stopped in front of the vacant wicker loveseat, but didn’t sit down. She wanted to take the news standing up, and prove to herself it wasn’t going to knock her off her feet. “Just tell me no one has cancer. Anything else I can handle.”

  “No one has cancer,” her dad said.

  “Congratulations, that’s probably the saddest anyone has ever sounded saying those words, Dad,” Mia said, but her joke fell flat and no one smiled. “Come on, y’all. What’s up? Is Paul up for parole? If that’s it, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but I can handle it.”

  “He’s not up for parole. He’s out, baby,” Gram said, knocking the breath from Mia’s chest.

  She’d always been a big believer in ripping off the Band-Aid, but she wasn’t prepared for this. The words hit her like a fist in the stomach, sending panic and pain spreading throughout her midsection. Her knees began to tremble and she sat down hard on the loveseat.

  “But they said they’d call,” she said, voice strained. “They said I’d know if he was up for parole, and I would be able to testify, or at least write a letter. How could this have happened?”

  Mia’s mom pulled in a shaky breath, drawing Mia’s attention to her face and the smudged eyeliner beneath her eyes. She looked like she’d been crying not too long ago, and like she might start up again at any second. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I was only trying to help.”

  “Help how?” Mia asked. “What the heck is going on?”

  Jenny sniffed and her gaze dropped to her lap. “When the woman called from Victim’s Services last month, I said that I was you. I just…did it without thinking, because I wanted to protect you. You’ve been doing so much better. I didn’t want you to know Paul was up for parole. So I sent in a letter opposing his release like the woman told me to, and I thought everything would be fine.” Her mother’s eyes widened, as she obviously fought back tears. “I thought that would be enough to keep him in prison, baby. I never imagined he’d go free in a year. After what he did
, I…”

  Mia watched her mother’s mouth continue to move, but she could no longer make out what Jenny was saying. The realization that Paul was free—not up for parole, not potentially free, but out on the street where he could start hunting for clues to where she’d gone—crashed through her consciousness with the force of a tornado, destroying her ability to think clearly, filling her head with a terrifying roar as it sent the splintered pieces of her safe haven scattering in the wind.

  Paul knew that she was from Lonesome Point. He would guess that she’d gone back home after graduation. He could be on his way now. Hell, he could be here, waiting for her outside her shop when she went home tonight. Sawyer had found out about the shop with a simple Internet search. Paul could do the same. She’d been a fool to put her picture up online, a fool to come back home in the first place. She should have run, and kept on running, even if Paul was in jail at the time.

  He was never going to stop. He’d made that clear when he violated the restraining order, and stalked her across campus. When he’d shown up at her part time waitressing job and her internship and her apartment and everywhere else the law had forbidden him to be. He didn’t care about the law, he cared about making sure Mia never belonged to anyone else the way she had belonged to him.

  “You can’t move in,” Mia blurted out, aware that she’d interrupted someone, but not sure who or what they’d been saying. She only knew she had to keep Sawyer safe from Paul.

  “You can’t move in,” she repeated, turning to Sawyer, who had sat down beside her at some point in the past few minutes, while she’d been in shock. “If Paul comes here and sees me with you, he’ll kill you. I know he will. You’re not safe as long as he’s out there.”

  “It’s okay. He can’t leave California,” Sawyer said, squeezing her hand. “He’ll have to report to his parole officer on a regular basis. He won’t be able to go more than—”