Leather and Lace

by Jessie Evans

  Sawyer bolted across the room and Mia followed, clutching at his arm like a lifeline as she joined him at the window, shining the flashlight down through the shattered glass.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered as the beam illuminated the ground below.

  Paul stared up at them from the mud, the leg of a sawhorse sticking out of the center of his chest and blood leaking from the sides of his slack lips. His arms were still twitching, but the light had already gone out of his eyes. The sirens Mia could finally hear moving closer to Old Town would be too late to do anything for Paul. He was dead, his body jerking one final time before finding stillness moments before the clouds opened and more rain came tumbling down.

  “It’s over,” she whispered, her pulse still thudding unhealthily in her ears as she turned to Sawyer. “Are you okay? Did he—”

  “I’m fine. What about you? Did he hurt you?” Sawyer urged her away from the grisly scene outside the window, pulling her into his arms.

  Mia shook her head. “No. You got here in time. God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She buried her face against his chest, not caring that his shirt was cold and wet, only that Sawyer was warm and alive beneath it. “When he shot at you…I was so scared, Sawyer. So fucking scared.”

  “I’m fine.” Sawyer’s arms tightened around her. “But I think we should get out of here. Head down the stairs and out to the gate to wait for the police.”

  Mia tilted her head back, looking up at Sawyer, but she couldn’t read his expression in the dim light from the flashlight she’d aimed at the ceiling. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’ll tell you when we’re outside.” Sawyer took her hand, leading the way out onto the landing and down the stairs, while Mia aimed the flashlight at the ground in front of them.

  They were halfway across the first floor of the saloon before Mia realized the night suddenly felt warmer, the damp air caressing her skin, banishing the chill in a rush, like stepping out of an air-conditioned store on a hot summer day. She’d been so scared, she hadn’t noticed that it was freezing upstairs. Freezing, when there was no air conditioning installed in the building, and every reason for the second floor to be warmer than the first.

  The realization made her cling tighter to Sawyer’s hand as they stepped out into the gently falling rain. “There was something strange going on in there, wasn’t there? Why was it so cold?”

  Sawyer shook his head and urged her to walk faster, until it felt like they were chasing the halo of her flashlight down the street. “I don’t know, but there is no way I threw Paul hard enough to send him flying through a window fifteen feet away. I’m strong, but I’m not that strong.”

  Mia bit her lip. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw a pale white light flicker in the window of the second floor of the hotel before it went dark. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “I believe in the power of unfinished business,” he said. “I’m not sure about ghosts, but I think it’s best if we tell the police I was standing three feet from the window. Less confusing for everyone.”

  Mia shivered. “Maybe it was just adrenaline. Like I said, being scared to death makes you stronger.”

  “Could have been,” Sawyer said noncommittally as they stepped through the gate to stand, side by side, watching the flashing lights of the approaching police cars moving swiftly down the dirt road toward them. “I’m just grateful, no matter what the explanation. If I’d lost you without getting to tell you how much I love you, it would have haunted me for the rest of my life. ”

  Mia turned, tears finally spilling from her eyes as she twined her arms around Sawyer’s neck and hugged him tight. “I love you, too. I’m so sorry I pushed you away.”

  He held her close, petting her increasingly damp hair. “Just don’t do it again, okay? If you’re in trouble, there is no place I would rather be than by your side. It’s you and me, okay?”

  Mia nodded before resting her cheek on his chest. “You and me.”

  The words sounded good. Hell, they sounded better than good. They sounded like the answer to every prayer she’d silently uttered as she’d walked into Old Town tonight.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Four days later

  Mia never intended to let one terrible night ruin all her good memories of Old Town, or to keep her from being as much a part of the restoration as she’d been before. But she would have preferred to take a week or two to recover before she jumped back into her normal routine. After all he’d done to her, Mia couldn’t say she was sorry that Paul was dead, but it would be a while before she would be able to banish her last glimpse of his tortured face from her memory.

  But when Gram called late Saturday afternoon to announce an emergency pow-wow at the ghost town the next morning, Mia agreed to meet Emily at eight a.m. An emergency was an emergency, and she was through letting Paul cast his dark shadow over her life.

  “Do you want me to bring my laptop and the fundraising stuff I’ve pulled together so far?” Mia asked, grinning as Sawyer flipped the open sign on the shop to closed, and drew the curtain on the window. It was a few minutes early, but she was past ready to get their Saturday night started.

  She’d been ready since four o’clock, when Sawyer breezed into the shop with an iced latte and demanded a kiss as payment for his caffeine delivery services. By the time they’d come up for air, Mia was feeling plenty awake, no latte required. She couldn’t wait to get him naked on their new quilt, a gender-neutral rail fence pattern Mia had put on the bed in honor of Sawyer moving in. Last night, they’d made love in the shower first, then on top of the kitchen table after late night ice cream, but tonight she intended to actually make it to the bedroom.

  “No,” Gram said, sounding more subdued than usual, but Mia supposed that was to be expected after the nightmare Paul had put her family through. “Just bring you. I’ll bring coffee and treats and we’ll have a long talk and a breakfast picnic under the trees.”

  Mia’s forehead wrinkled, even though Sawyer had slipped behind the counter and was wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back to his front, making her body light up. “What’s the long talk about? You’re not thinking of selling, are you? Because I won’t stand for it. I won’t let Paul ruin something we both love as much as Old Town.”

  “I’m not selling,” Gram said, that melancholy note still lingering in her voice.

  “Then what are we talking about?” Mia’s eyes fluttered closed as Sawyer pressed a kiss to her throat.

  “You’ll find out tomorrow morning,” Gram said. “I’ll see you at eight, baby.”

  “All right. Love you,” Mia said, sighing as she hung up the phone and turned in Sawyer’s arms.

  “Something wrong?” His hands drifted down to cup her bottom through her stretchy brown skirt. “Your gram okay?”

  “She sounds funny,” Mia said, breath catching as Sawyer pulled her closer to where his erection strained the close of his jeans. “Like she’s upset, or worried…”

  “Do you want to stop by her place before we go to the BBQ tonight?” Sawyer bunched her skirt in his hands, lifting the fabric higher until Mia’s knees were bare, then her thighs, then the bottom of her black lace panties. “We can leave a little early. I don’t mind. You know I love your gram.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my grandmother right now.” Mia unbuttoned his fly, drawing his zipper down, deciding that making it to the bed could wait.

  Sawyer grinned. “Then what do you want to talk about?”

  “I want to talk about your cock, and how soon it can be inside me.”

  “How does immediately work for you?” Sawyer lifted her onto the counter, drawing her panties to one side with one hand as he shoved his underwear and jeans around his thighs with another.

  “Immediately sounds—” Mia’s words ended in a cry of satisfaction as Sawyer pushed inside where she was already wet and aching. He glided deeper, past the hint of resistance as her body adjusted to his girth, until he was buried to the h
ilt, and Mia sighed with relief because, for the first time all day, she was finally as close as she’d been dying to be to the man she loved.

  “Fast enough?” Sawyer circled his hips, massaging her inner walls with his cock as the bunched fabric of her panties rubbed deliciously against her clit.

  “Yes,” Mia purred as she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, relishing the way he filled her. “I like immediate satisfaction.”

  “But now we go slow.” Sawyer claimed her lips for a kiss as he began to move, setting a languid, sensual rhythm that drove Mia slowly out of her mind.

  His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, mimicking his other movements, making Mia moan. God, she loved the way this man kissed, the way he held her, the way his hands skimmed over her body, leaving bliss in their wake. Every time with Sawyer was like the first time, but better. Because now there was no pain or embarrassment, simply two people who loved each other giving each other the gift of communion, of a coming together so sweet and right there was nothing in the world Mia would rather do than spend the rest of her life making love to this man.

  Making him laugh. Making him happy.

  Making him come so hard his voice went rough around the edges when he called her name.

  “God, Mia,” he said, growling the words against her throat. “I’m going to come.”

  Mia’s lips parted to tell him she was almost there, but by that point words were impossible. She came with a soft cry, waves of bliss coursing through her as Sawyer’s cock jerked inside her, drawing out her own pleasure as they slowly drifted back to earth.

  “Yes,” Mia sighed moments later, resting her head on Sawyer’s shoulder as her fingers traced a lazy trail up and down his manly forearm, still one of her favorite parts of him. “That was the perfect way to start a Saturday night.”

  “And end it.” Sawyer pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m up for round two as soon as we get back from this BBQ.”

  Mia tilted her head back to smile up into his handsome face. “I think that can be arranged. Ribs always make me frisky.”

  Sawyer wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll be stocking the freezer tomorrow.”

  Mia laughed as she eased off the counter and headed into the back room to use the bathroom and tidy up. When she came back into the shop, Sawyer was stacking boxes of panties on the counter, proving he was serious about helping her restock before she opened on Monday.

  “Your dad swung by the site today,” Sawyer said when Mia stopped beside him.

  “That’s weird.” She ran a rubbery arm through her hair, wondering if she would ever stop feeling limp and boneless after sex with Sawyer…and kind of hoping she wouldn’t. “He hardly ever comes to Old Town. What did he want?”

  Sawyer crossed his arms as he turned to lean back against the counter they’d just christened. “He wanted to thank me for looking out for you the other night, and strongly encourage me to think about finding other living arrangements until you and I decide we’re ready to take the next step.”

  Mia’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t believe him!” She picked up a lavender thong only to toss it back into another box. “First of all, it’s none of his business, and second of all, it’s none of his business, and third of all—”

  “I told him I would propose as soon as you gave me a sign you were in a marrying frame of mind.”

  Mia’s jaw dropped and a rush of pleasure and fear zipped through her at the same time, leaving her feeling like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. It took a long moment to recover her voice, and when she did, it shook when she spoke. “You can’t be serious.”

  Sawyer took a step closer, setting her body to humming with excitement even as her mind blared a code red warning signal.

  “I’m not saying we have to get married soon. Not this year, or even the next year, if you don’t want to. I’m fine with taking it slow.” He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “But I already know there’s never going to be another woman for me, Mia. Almost losing you the other night…” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “It made a lot of things crystal clear to me, the biggest of which is that I don’t want to hold back when it comes to you. I don’t want to worry about moving too fast, or falling too hard. I just want to love you and be happy with you, and there is nothing that would make me happier than knowing I get to be your husband someday.”

  Tears rose in Mia’s eyes, but they weren’t purely happy tears, or purely sad ones. They were a crazy, confusing mix of the two that left her feeling completely at odds with herself. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around Sawyer’s neck and tell him she felt the same way, but the other part of her could only think of how sick to death it made her feel to imagine saying “I do” to Sawyer and rolling the dice with his precious life. The curse was ridiculous, but it also felt real, even now, in the bright light of day, with nothing more threatening than a pair of ghost stuffed toys in the room.

  “Don’t say anything now,” he said, fingers threading into her hair as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Just think about it, okay?”

  Mia nodded. She would think about it, all right.

  She wouldn’t be able to think of anything else the entire night. Saturday night was usually her time to blow off steam, let her hair down, and have some fun. But as the evening wore on, she felt increasingly wound up. Tighter and tighter until she asked Sawyer if they could leave the BBQ early, saying she was too tired after the week they’d had to party with her usual enthusiasm.

  When they got back home, she brushed her teeth and changed into her sleep shirt, but she didn’t try to get Sawyer naked on their new quilt, after all. She still wanted him more than ever—meeting his eyes in the bathroom mirror while they’d been getting ready for bed had been enough to make her wet—but she was also scared to death of him.

  He loved her, but he would never believe her family’s curse was anything but nonsense. They’d both confessed to feeling some sort of entity—ghost, spirit, haunt, whatever you wanted to call it—present in the saloon the night Paul was killed, but Sawyer still refused to entertain the notion that marrying Mia might be a deadly mistake.

  “I believe in the free will of the living and the dead and anyone in between,” he said as he cradled her close later that night, spooning her back to his front as they drifted off to sleep. “I don’t believe in curses, or that there is anything in the world more powerful than the love I feel for you.”

  The tears that had threatened on and off all night slipped quietly down Mia’s cheeks. “I want to believe that, I really do. I love you so much.”

  “And that’s enough, Mia.” He kissed her shoulder and hugged her close. “It’s enough and one day you’re going to wake up and believe it.”

  Mia drifted off to sleep, hoping that day would be coming soon, but when she crawled out of bed at seven Sunday morning, she didn’t feel any less conflicted than she had the night before.

  She stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Sawyer while he slept, his arms thrown up over his head in a way that made him look almost childish, despite his size, and her heart lurched with such a fierce mixture of fear and love it took her breath away. She turned and tiptoed out of the room, not wanting Sawyer to wake up, see her face, and know that his hopeful prophecy had yet to come true.

  She dressed quickly, left a note telling Sawyer she’d call after her meeting with Gram, and hurried out the backdoor, giving herself time to swing into the gas station and grab two bottles of water before she started out to the ghost town. Gram believed a person could survive on coffee alone, but Mia knew they’d need water this morning. The heat was already billowing up from the pavement, and the sun had yet to climb a quarter of the way into the sky.

  She reached the ghost town to find Gram’s Civic already parked by the gate and Gram standing inside the fence, swinging her picnic basket from hand to hand as she looked wistfully up at the saloon.

  “
Penny for your thoughts,” Mia said as she made her way down the street, her boots already kicking up dust despite the rain the other night. It was going to be another bone-dry summer, which made her even more concerned about the benefit concert she and Bubba were planning. They were going to need water, and lots of it, and maybe some sort of water feature to help people cool off.

  “Not worth a penny,” Gram said. “In fact, I think I should write you a check before we talk. I feel like this conversation should cost me.”

  Mia’s heart did a jittery leap in her chest. “Shit. Are you sick, Gram? If so, just tell me quick. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Like you did with the stuff the other day.”

  “Why does everyone always assume I’m sick?” Gram set her picnic basket on the ground, and crossed her arms with a scowl. “I hate getting old. I’m becoming a damned cliché.”

  “Sorry,” Mia said, smiling. “You’re not a cliché. Clichés don’t have nicknames like sugar britches.”

  Gram’s frown stayed in place, the older woman apparently in no mood for teasing this morning. “You’re right. I should just do it quick. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.” She turned, looking up at Mia with glistening eyes, the expression on her face so sober it made Mia’s grin shrivel away.

  “God, Gram, what is it?”

  “I’ve done wrong by you, Mia,” Gram said, solemnly. “I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t change the fact that I never should have let this lie go on for so long. At first, I needed it to salvage my pride at a time when I didn’t think I could sink any lower, but by the time you were born, I should have come clean.” Her lips trembled. “And now… Well, I’m just ashamed of myself. Especially when it’s all turned out to be a lie, right from the beginning.”

  Mia shook her head. “Gram, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”

  “The body was positively identified Friday. It belonged to Rupert Everett, Amelia’s husband.”