“Ah, yes, the wedding.”
“I’m sure you’re just as tired of hearing about it as I am thinking of it.”
She started to say something, then stopped. But then she went ahead.
“I’m just going to put this out there, Sawyer, and you tell me if I’m wrong. Am I part of some big life experiment for you? I know you wanted a different existence out here in Red Rock, and sometimes it seems that I’m a part of that change.”
It was true that he’d come out west to find himself, but she had it all wrong. “Do you think I’m just testing a different kind of woman than I’m used to and seeing how you fit into this new life I’ve got? Because that’s not the case.”
“Then how about this—you’re the only brother who’s not getting married, so every time you mention them, it sounds like you feel a little out of it. Like you really are that younger brother who doesn’t belong.” She paused. “And you want to belong, so you’re bringing me to abandoned homesteads in the woods and taking me out to dinner and...” She let her comment fade.
Was she looking for excuses to make their relationship rocky?
Still, she’d nailed him, gotten his number, however you wanted to put it. Because he’d been wondering the same about himself.
Yet just hearing her say all that, he knew her theories couldn’t be true. He sincerely did like Laurel for being Laurel.
Why did he get the feeling that it was hard for her to accept that?
“Wow,” he said. “You realize that you just suggested that my brothers all have significant others now and I’m only with you because I don’t want to be left out.”
She just stared at him. He could sense it, even in the near dark.
Then she started laughing. He did, too, more out of relief than anything.
“Do you want to just leave me in the woods?” she asked jokingly. “That way you won’t have to hear me run my mouth anymore.”
He wanted to tell her that he could be the one man who understood all her issues—that he knew she was only being guarded because of what she’d been through with her dad and her ex. That he would give her time to sort through what she needed to.
But as if she wanted to avoid any more talk, she jumped over the limestone barrier, going back to the trail.
“Do you plan to become a permanent part of the structure or what?” she asked. “Come on, Fortune.”
At the sound of his last name, his stomach sank.
Time, he thought. If there was one thing he’d learned lately, it was that anything worth pursuing would take time.
And more and more, he knew that Laurel would be worth the trouble.
* * *
Even a few days later, Laurel still had Sawyer and their trip to the woods on her mind.
Or more to the point, she kept going over what’d happened afterward.
Sawyer had driven her home, and if things had been slightly awkward between them when she’d accused him of using her because he wanted to be like his brothers, that had been just a warm-up.
After he’d parked his car, she’d been caught between inviting him inside and saying a simple good-night. Her libido was begging for one while her brain was demanding the other.
Luckily, Sawyer had gotten a call from Shane, and his family drama had taken the pressure off her.
“Evidently,” he’d said, putting away his phone as they’d sat in the car, “my brother made good on his promise to contact Aunt Jeanne at La Casa Paloma Hotel, and he’s asking if I’d like to join them in the bar for a nightcap.”
Was someone watching out for her or what? Laurel had been torn between libido and brain all night, yearning for Sawyer, then telling herself that she would only be digging herself into a deeper hole with him if they ended up in bed again.
“Don’t feel bad about going to them,” she said. “I know how important this is.”
“You could come with me.”
But Laurel knew a good opportunity when it presented itself. “No worries, Fortune. I’ve got an early morning, anyway.”
At her use of his last name, he frowned a bit, just as he had earlier. And every time she said it, she cursed herself, even though it was the most effective intimacy blocker she could think of.
They’d kissed good-night—of course, she’d been drawn to him like a magnet and had found it almost impossible to drag herself away—but that was it.
Her body sure hadn’t been happy with her afterward. A sharp craving had haunted her all night.
A well-deserved one.
And her run of luck only continued. For the next few days, Sawyer had been swept up in his brothers’ wedding preparations, getting last-minute alterations to his best man’s tux, seeing to the details of the reception, which would be held at the gazebo on New Fortunes Ranch.
But she hadn’t realized how much she would miss him until it was actually happening. It was a sore, awful, terrible emptiness that only he could fill.
That frightened her, too, because when no-strings Sawyer inevitably lost interest in their little affair, no matter what she thought she saw in his eyes when he looked at her, it would devastate her. She would end up resembling that decimated limestone house they’d come across in the woods the other night.
Ruined. Unsuitable for living. A repeat of how she’d felt after Steve had screwed her over.
Today, though, she wasn’t feeling so hollow. She was off work and waiting for a knock on the door.
When she heard it, she rushed to answer, and as soon as she threw the door open, she was gushing with the kind of happiness a proud aunt carried around.
“Jack!” she said, going straight for the chubby-cheeked baby in her brother’s arms.
The little boy had a smile that stretched across his face as he leaned away from his dad and reached toward her.
“Okay, then,” Tanner said, laughing as Laurel pulled Jack against her, holding him and cupping the back of his head, kissing his baby softness. “Now I know what it’s like to cease existing.”
“Hi, to you, too, Tanner,” Laurel said between kisses. She drew back and looked at her nephew’s darling face, unable to stop a goofy smile that seemed to take her over every time she saw him.
Tanner dropped his son’s diaper bag near the inside of the door. “You should have everything in here. Jordana says thanks a million. Me, too.”
“Tell her hi for me, and thank you for letting me take care of Jack. Besides, parents need to have time alone, especially busy parents.”
“In other words, you’re always available.”
“You got it,” Laurel said, resting her cheek against Jack’s head.
Tanner didn’t go just yet. It was hard for him and Jordana to be away from Jack, but Laurel had already become a pro at this babysitting thing. Still, the couple never spent more than a few hours away from their son, and today was no exception. They were only going for a meal in town.
Tanner finally kissed Jack goodbye, and Laurel distracted her nephew with smitten-auntie faces so he wouldn’t fuss about Daddy leaving him behind.
But the child didn’t have the Redmond complex about crappy fathers—and Laurel was sure he never would, seeing as Tanner was already Dad of the Year in her book.
When Tanner was gone, Laurel walked around her apartment with Jack. “What do you think, buddy? You want to play choo-choo?” He liked sitting on the carpet and having Laurel grab his ankles, pulling him along as she went, “Choo-choo!”
Instead of answering, he was fiddling with a button on her shirt. So much for choo-choo.
She decided to take him outside, to the small playground attached to the apartment complex. They had their choice of a swing set, a sandbox and a bouncing horsey.
While holding him on top of the metal animal, she was in the middle of creating the appropriate whinnying sound effects when her phone dinged.
She wrapped an arm around Jack to steady him, accessing the text.
Sawyer.
Something in her chest spun like a whirring top as she
read the message.
Haven’t seen you for a while. Dinner?
Yesyesyesyes, her libido said. But her brain disagreed.
She ignored her head, too excited to listen to it. She and Sawyer could have a late dinner after Tanner and Jordana picked up Jack, right? They could sit around and watch TV, kiss, neck, be happy with each other’s company. It didn’t have to go any further tonight.
Or if it did, she would handle it, enjoying their time together for what it was.
Couldn’t she do that?
As she texted back a time—8:00 p.m.?—her whole body felt as if it was twirling now.
I’ve got a better idea, said Sawyer’s next text. You at home?
Yes.
Good. Missed you.
And that was all he wrote. When she texted back a question mark, he didn’t answer.
Why did she have the feeling that push-the-envelope Sawyer wasn’t going to wait until eight?
She admitted that she didn’t want him to, anyway, and scooped Jack off the play horse, taking him to the sandbox.
He was a creative child, if Laurel said so herself, and time passed quickly as he pushed the sand into piles that he pounded into shapes she didn’t quite understand yet. Although in his smart little mind, they probably made all the sense in the world.
She bent over to kiss Jack’s temple. There weren’t enough kisses in the world for him, really, and sometimes she thought that she could spend all night just cuddling and kissing his soft cheek.
“Who loves you, buddy?” she asked. “Me. That’s who.”
Jack laughed. She stroked his cheek, and when she sat down again, she realized that they hadn’t been alone.
When she saw Sawyer, her heart jerked.
Then her entire body caught fire.
He had a look on his face that told her he’d been moved by what he’d seen with her and Jack, and that he was possibly thinking things that he shouldn’t be thinking about her and children.
But she had to be wrong about that, because this was Sawyer Fortune, the playboy, the survivor of the Plague....
He snapped out of it, holding up a takeout bag from Red.
“Let me guess,” she said, trying to steady her voice. God, she’d missed him. “You brought the tapas we didn’t get to try the other night.”
“Right on target.” He came to the sandbox, his gaze on Jack, his second cousin.
“Hey, there,” he said, getting to a knee.
When Jack’s face lit up the same as it did every time he saw Laurel, she sat back and watched.
Sawyer was a natural, as if he’d been around children all his life and knew just how to relate. Not long ago, she would’ve said that Sawyer got along with kids because he was really one himself, but that didn’t ring true right now.
Not as her heart pounded from the center of a warm ring—a circle that didn’t seem to be protecting her as much as it was enveloping her.
She forced the feeling away and bent to Jack. “What do you say? Are you hungry?”
He made an eating motion with his hand. Baby sign language.
Sawyer chuckled. “I’d say so. Do you think his eating habits will be as cultured and adventurous as his aunt’s?”
“He’s more into bland pureed stuff right now, but we’re getting there.”
Sawyer rounded up Jack before Laurel could do so, and the boy seemed so tiny in the crook of his arm that her heart softened. Jack also looked ecstatic to be with Sawyer, grabbing at his embroidered shirt collar.
“He’ll be a nice dresser,” Sawyer said. “I can tell that he’s into clothes already. I’ll have to introduce him to my tailor.”
They walked back to her apartment and Laurel took the prepared food from Jack’s diaper bag and laid it out on the table. Meanwhile, Sawyer worked on the adult grub, undoing the takeout containers and forking the tapas onto plates.
As they ate together, with Laurel feeding Jack, a forbidden fantasy came to her.
A family. Three of them, a mom, a dad, a baby...
At one point Sawyer met her gaze, and she looked away when she thought she saw the fantasy reflected in him.
But this was ridiculous. It was easy to babysit. It was quite another thing to wake up in the middle of the night because your baby was crying and to worry that your marriage was breaking apart from the stress.
Because that’s what marriage would be. Stress after the honeymoon was over. Besides, she’d always told herself that she’d have a child on her own terms one day, after she got back on her financial feet. And she’d let Sawyer know on the first night they’d met that she wanted to adopt or go to a sperm bank.
There was no fantasy here.
When Tanner and Jordana arrived to pick up Jack, she was sorry to see him go. Then again, having a child around with Sawyer present did make things ten times more awkward.
And when Tanner greeted Sawyer, it was awkward times a thousand.
Jordana took Jack in her arms, her cheeks flushed at seeing her child. It was obvious she had struggled with being away from him, even for a couple of hours. Tanner couldn’t even stop touching his son’s head, smoothing back his wispy hair.
“Thank you so much,” Jordana said to both Laurel and Sawyer, as if they were a team. “We had a great time.”
“You just call when you want another date,” Laurel said.
When he and Jordana left, Tanner sent one last curious glance over his shoulder at Sawyer, but Laurel shut the door before Sawyer could see.
Hopefully.
And...yes. He’d already gone to clear the table, sauntering into the kitchen and throwing garbage away.
Now that they were alone, she wanted to rush over to him, lay the kiss of all kisses on him. All her plans about merely cuddling on the couch and smooching with him completely poofed into thin air.
When she’d had those milder thoughts, she had forgotten how much she wanted him. Being alone with him, here, now, definitely reminded her.
She joined him in the kitchen, as he was turned to the sink and was rinsing dishes. Just as he’d done on their morning after, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“It’s been too long,” she said, hugging him to her chest.
Fun. Flirty. No attachments.
She’d make sure that’s all tonight would be about.
* * *
The moment Sawyer felt Laurel pressing against his back, he lost it.
Control. That’s what he needed, and he searched for some.
But if she could read his mind to see what he was thinking and feeling right now, she’d run.
These past few days, he’d ached for her. It didn’t matter what hour it was, his chest literally hurt when he thought of her.
But he hadn’t had time with the wedding preparations to see her, and even though he would call her or text her, this game they were playing was beginning to wear on him. It was starting to etch deep grooves into his core, like tires that were spinning and burning and getting nowhere.
As she laid a palm flat on his belly, he nearly cursed. The effect was that brutal, like a pulsating jab of needles in his gut and groin.
And in his heart, he thought, unable to deny it any longer.
She slipped her hand down a bit more, over his fly, and he sucked in a breath.
“Did you miss me, too?” she whispered.
“You know I did.”
“Good.” She caressed him, already making him hard.
How could she be so cavalier about this?
Then again, how could she not, when he’d tried to cover how he was really feeling, just so he wouldn’t scare her off?
He was going to burst if she kept on handling him like this, so he turned around, cupping her face in his hands, stopping her.
He didn’t even say anything, just looked deep into her eyes.
But Laurel was Laurel, and she only smiled as if this was still casual, still a game.
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen my room,” she said, taking hi
s hand and pulling him away from the sink. “Why don’t we see if it’s changed at all?”
“Laurel...”
Frustrated, he couldn’t stand it anymore, pulling her into his arms, kissing her slowly, showing her what he couldn’t put into words.
At first she didn’t move, only raised her hands in the air as if she were helpless, caught in a net. Then, for a beautiful moment, she responded, swaying into him, her hands gripping his arms.
He’d always known how to make her weak, but he didn’t want to break her down—he wanted to build her up, to show her that she didn’t have to worry about being betrayed by him.
That he was the man for her.
But just as she began to lose herself in the kiss, she ended it, took hold of his shirt and hauled him toward the bedroom.
“Just come on, cowboy,” she said, getting him all the way into her room.
At least she hadn’t called him Fortune, but he feared that was next.
“Laurel,” he said, his voice grainy, “maybe we should take a breath here.”
“There’s plenty of time for breathing later.” She was already stripping off her shirt, undoing her pants, pulling off her boots. “You’re lagging, Fortune.”
Dammit, there it was.
She must’ve seen the frustration in him, because she avoided his gaze, grabbing ahold of his shirt again and, with flirty concentration, unbuttoning it.
“If it’s been a long day for you,” she said, yanking the material off him and going for his jeans next, “I’ll make it better.”
“I don’t need better...I just need—”
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his, cutting him off, kissing him so hard and so thoroughly that he was the helpless one, holding her arms as he fell further and further into his emotions.
This was it. She was it, and he would never find anyone who matched him so perfectly.
Why couldn’t she see that?
Why couldn’t she stop fighting what was so damned obvious?
He wasn’t wearing anything now, so he was utterly revealed as she pulled him toward the bed and turned him around at the same time. Just after he fell backward onto the mattress, she climbed on top of him, clad only in her plain white bra and panties.
“You’re awful quiet, Fortune,” she said, and she almost sounded desperate as she sat atop his stiffness, closing her eyes.
A CHANGE OF FORTUNE Page 14