by Vivian Wood
After that, he’d seemed to need distance. So she bided her time, checking and rechecking her phone to see if her mother had called. Any minute now, she was going to sneak out and call Shiloh, just to check in.
“He’s something, isn’t he?”
Remy turned to find a statuesque brunette standing beside her, holding a matching champagne flute. In a curve-hugging black dress that showed off her fit, tanned body, no less.
“Sorry?” Remy asked, unsure if the woman was talking to her but not seeing anyone else around.
“Sawyer. I saw that you two arrived together.” The brunette’s lips curved in a humorless smile.
“Oh. Uh… we’re…” Remy started, then stopped. “Sorry, who are you?”
“Merissa,” she said, extending an elegant hand. “His girlfriend.”
Remy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out for a second.
“Oh,” was all she managed.
“Yeah. It’s funny, when he texted last night to say he was in town, I wasn’t expecting… well, I’m not sure why he brought you along. Third wheel, much?” she said, giving a little laugh. “That Sawyer, never thinking with the right head, huh?”
She tapped her temple. Remy blinked, immediately off-put.
“He’s never mentioned you,” Remy said slowly, canting her head to the side.
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”
Merissa gave her an indulgent smile, then tsked. “Men, huh?”
“Right,” Remy said, feeling cornered.
“Yeah. You know what’s so great about Sawyer, though? We always pick right up where we left off. Kinky sex, right out the gate. You know what I mean?” Merissa asked with a sly grin.
“Um, no?” Remy said, furrowing her brow.
“Oh… well. Don’t worry about it.” Merissa patted her arm.
“Will you excuse me?” Remy asked, putting her glass down on a table.
“Of course,” Merissa practically purred.
Heels clicking, Remy crossed the ballroom’s marble floor, headed straight for Sawyer. He turned and noticed her, giving her a nod but continuing his conversation with an elegant older woman.
“Would you mind if I borrowed him for a second?” Remy asked the woman, putting on her sweetest smile.
“Oh… sure,” the woman said, giving them a knowing look.
“Remy, what are you doing?” Sawyer asked as she dragged him off by the arm.
She towed him out of the ballroom toward a side hallway before rounding on him.
“I just met Merissa.”
Sawyer’s expression tightened. “Did you, now?”
“Yeah. She introduced herself to me as your girlfriend.”
“She’s a liar.”
“Was she lying when she said that you texted her last night when we got into town?”
Sawyer hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I did text her. I knew she was going to be… around.”
“Interesting,” Remy said, crossing her arms.
“It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what I think.”
“I wasn’t trying to see her last night or anything.”
“That’s good to know. You weren’t just going to hook up with her, with me in the next room?”
“Remy, don’t be like this.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Were you two together?”
His gaze narrowed. “Yes.”
“Did you break things off with her before…” Remy paused, taking a breath. “Before you spent the night with me?”
His expression darkened. “No. It wasn’t like that between us.”
“No?”
“I mean, between me and Merissa.”
“I can see why this would be very confusing for you.”
“Remy…” he tried.
“No, you know what? This was my fault. I thought we’d both grown up, that there was a chance for us to find a path forward, together. But…” she said, shaking her head. “I think I was just looking for a fairytale where one cannot exist.”
Turning, she started for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sawyer called.
She slowed, then turned. “I have a kid to take care of. I get that you have a lot going on, but… I can’t wait around to see if you maybe want to be with me, or maybe want to be with Merissa, or… whatever. I have Shiloh to think about.”
“Remy, don’t leave—”
But she was out the door, feeling like Cinderella fleeing the ball. She rushed over to a cab and climbed in, not looking back.
She shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t where she belonged, not with things between her and Sawyer so up in the air.
There was one man who’d never let her down, though…
And if she got on a plane in the next hour, she just might make it home in time to tuck him into bed.
25
Sawyer upended the tumbler of whiskey, draining the last drops and crunching the ice cubes. He was a little drunk, a little jet-lagged, and extremely fucking confused about the argument he’d had with Remy.
He sat up at the sleek black marble bar, an amenity of his hotel that he’d only just discovered. After he checked Remy’s room and found her gone, he’d come down here for a drink.
Which turned into three.
“There you are.”
He looked up to find Merissa sliding onto the bar stool beside him, wearing a skimpy little lace number. She leaned close, making sure he got an eyeful of her cleavage, then put her hand on his thigh.
“Merissa,” he said, removing her hand. “Speak of the Devil.”
“Oh, you flatter me,” she said, laughing. She was very proud of her dazzling white smile and her big fake tits, making the most she could of both. It worked on most men, always got her what she wanted.
Hell, it had worked on him for half a year.
Today, though, he looked at Merissa and just thought… phony.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“You texted me last night.”
“Yeah, because I wanted to tell you in person that I’m with someone else,” he said, raising his hand to the bartender to order another round.
“Hmm, and yet….” Merissa glanced around. “No cute little country blonde present. What happened, you two have a fight?”
She pretended to pout, leaning close again to flash her half-bared breasts at him.
“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Sounds like a fairweather friend.”
He gave Merissa a sharp look. “You don’t know shit about it. That woman’s been through hell and back on my account.”
“Puh-lease,” Merissa said, rolling her eyes.
“She had my baby. Never asked me for anything. Not that you’d understand that.”
Merissa’s expression turned sullen. “I never asked you for anything, either.”
“No, but that didn’t stop you from meddling, did it?”
“How could I have known that I was meddling? It wasn’t like you ever told me you were together with someone. Just like you never told me you left D.C.”
He pulled a face, but she was right. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
Merissa’s brows rose. “An apology? Well, color me shocked.”
“I’m trying to learn from my mistakes.”
He knocked back half the whiskey in his glass, winced.
“Yeah, I don’t think you’re really on the righteous path right now,” Merissa said.
“You’re one to talk.”
Merissa’s dark eyes narrowed.
“Yeah,” Sawyer said. “I know you were Darren’s mistress, Merissa. I’m not stupid.”
Hurt flashed on her face. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“I know that you cared about him, and that he chose his wife and new baby over you.”
“Excuse me, bartender!” she called. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
�
��See, the righteous path is harder than it looks,” Sawyer said.
“Don’t gloat. It’s not a good quality for a father.”
Sawyer almost choked on the next sip of his drink.
A father, she’d called him. She wasn’t wrong, of course. It was just… he’d never considered himself that way before.
“Can I give you some advice?” Merissa asked.
He slid her a glance. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Go ahead,” he said with a shrug.
“Your blonde. Do you love her?”
He sat his glass down a little harder than he intended.
“It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not. Not talking about the fact that she had your kid, or whatever past you have together. Do you love her? Could you spend your life with her?” Merissa asked, pinning him with an intense expression.
He thought about it. Remy was beautiful and kind. She was smart and funny, and determined. She cared about him, her capacity for love seemingly endless. When he was with her, he felt… lighter. Happier.
So yeah, maybe the whole kid and family thing was still stressing him the hell out. Enough that he couldn’t even delve into his feelings surrounding being a father, not quite yet.
But just Remy, herself?
“Yeah,” he said at last. “I love her.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Merissa asked. “If you love someone, you don’t let anything or anyone keep you apart. Me and Darren? We had problems that couldn’t be fixed. You, though? From where I’m sitting, all you have to do is reach out and take what you want.”
He stared at her, dumbstruck for a minute. “Jesus. That’s… like, inspirational.”
“I’m fucking Yale educated,” Merissa said, standing up. “Being hot doesn’t preclude me from being intelligent.”
He couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that escaped his lips. Merissa shot back the last of her whiskey. “Thanks for the drink. Now get out of this bar, go get your girl. Life’s too short to waste sitting around looking like a kicked puppy.”
She turned and strutted off, leaving him more than a little stunned and impressed.
Pulling out his wallet, he tossed cash on the bar, shaking his head.
Damn. An unlikely source of wisdom, but… she was completely right. If Darren’s tragic passing had any true effect on his life, it should be to remind Sawyer to go after what he wanted, not wait around hoping that happiness would find him one day.
He checked his watch, wondering when the next flight to New Orleans took off.
It was time to take this bull by the horns, confront his fears, and see if he couldn’t make himself and Remy happy.
All he needed was all the courage in the world…
26
Wait for me.
Remy looked at Sawyer’s mysterious text for what had to be about the 1000th time. The morning after she left him in D.C., she woke to find that text.
No explanation, no apology…
Just…
Wait for me.
Every single time she looked at it, the message gave her chills. It’d been six days, not a word from Sawyer, and yet…
A little part of her was just hanging there, anticipating…
Something.
She sighed as she finished preparing Shiloh’s lunch, cut up chicken breast and apple sauce. In her heart, she was still foolishly hoping for that fairy tale ending…
Right now, sitting in front of Shiloh’s high chair and spooning apple sauce into his mouth, she felt more like Cinderella.
“Quit spitting it on your shirt!” she scolded him, her words lacking heat.
Shiloh just grinned and picked up another piece of chicken from his plastic plate, jamming it in his mouth.
“Your manners are seriously lacking, buddy.”
Once he was fed, she took him upstairs to change his clothes. Then she found a splotch of apple sauce on her shirt, and ended up changing her tank top.
Today was just… one of those days. Shiloh was the best kid, but he was still a toddler. He was a miniature tornado, creating a path of destruction and dirty laundry everywhere he went these days.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she sorted through her clean t-shirts, trying to keep an eye on Shiloh. He crawled around the floor at her feet, pushing a toy truck around with single-minded determination.
She glanced at her phone.
Sawyer.
Heart suddenly leaping into her throat, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Are you home?” he asked without preamble.
“Ummm, yeah…” she said, grabbing a t-shirt.
“Can I meet you on the front porch in five minutes?”
“I—” she started, then paused. “I guess? It’s just me and Shiloh at the house today, so… he’s with me wherever I am.”
“Even better. See you in five.”
“Okay…” she said.
Disconnecting the call, she frowned at the faded t-shirt in her hand.
“Buddy, I can’t wear this,” she told Shiloh, who ignored her completely.
Digging through her drawers, she found a light blue tank top and a fresh pair of shorts. By the time she’d changed, brushed her hair, and stopped Shiloh from trying to flush his toy truck down the toilet, the doorbell rang.
Stifling a nervous groan, she scooped Shiloh up and carried him downstairs. Opening the front door, she found Sawyer standing there with flowers and a somber expression.
“Um, hi,” she said.
Her heart squeezed when she realized that Sawyer was actually speechless, his gaze locked on Shiloh.
“Shiloh, this is Sawyer,” she told her son, smoothing back the dark, messy mop of his hair.
“Sawyyyyyy,” Shiloh said, trying to say the word.
Sawyer glanced at Remy, clearing his throat. “I want… can he call me Dad?”
Remy felt tears prick her eyes.
“Of course. Shiloh, can you say Daddy?”
“Daddddd,” Shiloh said. He squirmed, wanting to get down.
Remy set him on his feet, grinning when he immediately went to explore the bouquet of lilies that Sawyer held. Sawyer played the moment perfectly, kneeling down and letting Shiloh squish the flowers experimentally.
“Fwower,” Shiloh said, looking up to Sawyer for approval.
Remy saw Sawyer’s throat work, could barely hold it together when she saw how emotional he looked. Sawyer glanced at her, pinning her with that gorgeous hazel gaze.
“He looks so much like Colt and Walker did as kids,” Sawyer said.
“He looks like you.”
If there was something sweeter than watching Sawyer interact with Shiloh for the first time, Remy didn’t know what it might be. Shiloh patted Sawyer’s hand, pointing at the flowers.
“Shi, did you smell the flowers?” Remy asked, her voice gone thick.
“Nooooo,” he said, giving her an angelic grin.
“See if they smell good, buddy,” she suggested.
Shiloh crouched down and stuck his whole face in the bouquet, then immediately reared back and sneezed. He toppled over, but Sawyer caught him with one hand, putting him back on balance.
Shiloh looked up at Sawyer and laughed.
They stayed like that for a little while, Sawyer seeming awestruck by Shiloh, Remy watching them both. Feeling like her heart was about to burst, it was so full of joy.
After a while, Sawyer stood again, giving her a look.
“Can we take a drive?” he asked.
“Well, there’s no one to watch Shiloh,” she said, brushing a lock of hair back from her temple.
“I kinda thought he could come with us.”
“Oh! That’s so nice, but… he needs a car seat and stuff,” Remy said, pulling a face.
“I got one.”
Remy couldn’t help the shocked look she gave him.
“You did?”
“Yeah. Took me about an hour to install t
he thing in my car…” he said with a shrug.
“They’re notoriously difficult to install,” Remy said with a smile.
“So… what do you think? Take a ride into town with me?” he asked again.
“Okay,” Remy said, taking a breath. “Sure, why not.”
It took a minute to gather a bag of Shiloh’s things — it was never as simple as walking out of the house, not with a toddler in tow. Once Shiloh was fastened into the super fancy car seat in Sawyer’s Range Rover, Remy hopped in the front seat.
“Let’s do this thing,” she said, giving him a hesitant smile.
Sawyer gave her a long look, but didn’t say anything. He drove toward town, moving no faster than thirty miles an hour at any point.
“You don’t have to drive like a grandma, you know,” Remy told him.
Sawyer shrugged. “Never driven a car with any kid in the backseat, much less my own kid. Not gonna rush it.”
Remy laughed. “Whatever makes you happy.”
Shiloh started fussing in the back seat after a minute, until Remy turned on the radio. As soon as she tuned into the pop station, he calmed down, bobbing his feet to the music.
“You raised him to like Katy Perry?” Sawyer asked.
“You try telling a kid what to listen to,” Remy said. “See how that goes over.”
Sawyer did grin at that.
“Stubborn, huh?”
“Yep. He’s a Roman man, through and through,” Remy said.
Sawyer drove through town, past The Speckled Hen and the grocery store, past his father’s new house. Remy watched out the window as the town crawled by; Sawyer was driving at a true snail’s pace now, and it was getting harder and harder not to tease him about it.
He pulled up in front of a grassy lot, across from the small K-8 school in town. Sawyer climbed out and made a great show of unbuckling Shiloh, making the toddler laugh by pulling silly faces as he freed him.
“Can I carry you?” Sawyer asked Shiloh.
Shiloh’s brow furrowed, and for a moment Remy thought he’d refuse, turn to her for comfort. Instead, Shiloh just cocked his head and looked at Sawyer expectantly.
“Go ahead,” she said when Sawyer turned to her for reassurance.