by Hall, Traci
She looked outside for Sawyer, but he wasn’t out back where the dogs sprinted around the yard and sniffed at each other. The door was partially open to his office, so she knocked on the frame.
He was speaking rapidly to someone before he got off the office phone. “Come in.”
“Hey.”
He had a fresh black and brick-red shirt on. Her cheeks heated as she recalled him practically naked earlier. She’d seen more of Sawyer’s body than she had her last boyfriend’s. Which could be why they hadn’t worked out. And she liked kissing Sawyer a lot better than she’d liked kissing Tony.
Lottie blamed Grace being single on her emotional vulnerability. Grace preferred to think that she was a loner by choice. Why put herself out there to be hurt?
For the first time since feeling this undeniable attraction to Sawyer, Grace wondered if it wasn’t the house or the van or her job keeping her from the man, but her own insecurities. Not liking that train of thought, she lifted the pink, neatly written telephone message and handed it to Sawyer.
“Your first client, maybe?” Grace tucked her free hand in her jeans pocket. “She sounds very needy—and says that her dog is badly behaved.”
Sawyer leaned forward, his elbow on the desk, his fingers jammed in the hair at his left temple. “Why can’t I have a good dog for a change?”
“Then they wouldn’t need you.” She sat opposite him in a big chair, feeling rather petite and feminine in the heavy blacks and grays of his masculine décor.
“Excellent point.” He exhaled and dropped his hand to the desk, splayed flat over the telephone message, looking very disappointed. “Just this one?”
“Yes. I asked her to go to the website, but she needs more personal attention.” Grace smirked. She couldn’t blame the woman for trying. Sawyer’s website photo conveyed a certain arrogant gorgeousness that was irresistible.
“All right.” He sat back. “I sent Kasam pictures of the facility and spoke with him about the pictures you emailed. If he wants to use them, it’s okay with me.”
Grace swung her foot beneath the chair, not quite ready to give in so easily. “I want photo credits.”
“Absolutely.”
She stood and brushed her hands together. “It’s a deal, then. Thank you.” Another photo credit would only help her budding career, and if she took more pictures, she’d make sure it was on her own time.
“Grace, I appreciate the work you’ve done around here.”
“Just doin’ my job,” she said. “Good luck with the bad dog.” She walked toward his office door. “The new trainees seem very rambunctious.”
“They’ll settle down.” Sawyer tapped the desk. “I was impatient, and that’s why it was such a cluster earlier. I should’ve introduced them one at a time, but you’ll see, Grace. They’ll know commands by this time next week.”
“If anybody can do it…” Grace let that sentence slide.
She wasn’t sure what he could actually do. Even though she’d read Sawyer’s books, Bert’s behavior was the first thing she thought of, and now this fiasco with the new pups?
“Have you watched my training videos?” Sawyer asked.
“No.” She shrugged. “Should I?”
“Go ahead and start with the first in the series. It might help you understand more of what I can do, which will help you on the phones.”
Get paid to watch Sawyer train dogs? Grace wasn’t going to argue as she made the same dollar amount no matter what she did, and it sounded fun.
“All right.” She left his office and chose video one from the lobby shelf. The Sawyer Rivera Training System. There were ten in all, with his gorgeous image on the cover. No wonder they sold so well.
An hour later, she had jotted key selling points that Sawyer had done with the dogs to ensure proper behavior that she could use with customers.
Maybe he was right, and Bert just needed more time.
She took a tea break and checked her cell phone for messages. Lottie was going to call to tell her how Violet was doing at school.
Instead, there was a message from a number she didn’t recognize.
Griffin Carlisle, saying he’d be at the museum at five if she could meet him there to discuss the coffee table book. Yes! That didn’t leave her much time to rush home and change, but she hated to ask Sawyer for a favor.
She brought her tea to her desk, practically floating on air, and texted Griffin that she’d be there at five.
Chapter Sixteen
Still disgruntled over mishandling the pups, Sawyer glanced to his “mission wall,” which consisted of the Bark Camp plans he’d used to direct the men, the calendar that showed his facility’s grand opening, and when Grace would have her last day. None of these things were going the way he’d wanted. A month ago, he’d have laughed in the face of anyone who’d said he’d only have one client by now.
He really needed to clear his head.
Sawyer left his office and walked past Grace at her desk to the break room. He stopped when he noticed her watching him intently. He also saw the case for the DVD. Did she want to talk with him about how his system was pretty good? “What’s up?”
“Hey, Sawyer.” She drummed her finger along the case. “Can I take off early? I’ll be sure to write it down.”
“Today?”
“Yeah.” She blinked at him. “I did your questionnaire and sent the pictures to Kasam. Watched your first video.”
“Everything all right?”
Her face broke into a happy grin. “Maybe so. I have a chance to put together a coffee table book of Puget Sound wildlife with a guy named Griffin Carlisle. He wants to meet at the Kingston Bird Museum to discuss a proposal.” She sounded…giddy. Was that the right word for when a person was deliriously happy?
The name rang a bell—a Seattle posh party bell. His defenses rose, and he wasn’t sure why. Over the possibility of Grace leaving his employment earlier than expected?
“Sure,” he said. “But don’t forget, you agreed to this position for a month.” If she wasn’t working here, then he’d no longer be her boss. While that had other perks, he enjoyed seeing her at Bark Camp every day. He loved her smile, her laugh, her teasing.
She huffed. “Don’t worry, Sawyer. I won’t mess with your Rivera plan. How did you get to be so controlling with four brothers? Did your parents run a tight ship?”
He stepped back, not taking offense at her sharp observation. “The Marines had nothin’ on my dad. All of us graduated high school without being arrested, and that was something in our neighborhood.”
She peered up at the ceiling and then at him. “So it’s okay for me to leave?”
“Now?” This time he asked the question just to get under her skin—a little payback for the dog pictures.
“I’d like to go home and change.” Grace touched the brown polo shirt with Bark Camp embroidered on the sleeve. “Into something pretty.”
“Fine.” He kept his expression neutral, though he didn’t want her dressing up for someone else. It wasn’t his decision. “And good luck, Grace. I mean it.”
Grace’s beautiful, red-lipstick smile tempted him, and he couldn’t help himself. He jumped over the partition, landing beside her desk, and lifted her in a single motion. Her breath came fast, and her mouth parted.
“Sawyer?” She didn’t push him away but sighed against him.
He pressed his mouth to hers and held her close. Their kiss was molten, her lips giving way beneath his before she answered his passion with a nip of her teeth on his lower lip, her hand digging into the muscle at his hip. She tasted like rosehip tea and the unique flavor that was Grace—sweet sunshine with a kick of spice. She gasped for breath and leaned back, her blue eyes dazed.
He tightened his grip to make sure she didn’t fall and inhaled her floral scent, counted the freckles on her nose—stil
l three—and memorized the feel of her in his arms. He was probably doing all kinds of things wrong, but he winked, willing to break the rules for her. “Just let me know when you want to see my painting.”
At that, Grace wiggled out of his embrace with an indignant sniff. “You don’t even really know me or what’s going on in my life.” She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and left him standing by her desk as she headed toward the front door. “If all goes according to plan, Sawyer, then maybe I’ll invite you over to look at my photos.”
“I want to know everything,” he said, but the front door closed behind her, and he sank into her chair. She’d managed to make him lose control, again, and nab the last word. He was in way too deep and bowed his head. How had she gotten so close to his heart? More importantly, what was he going to do about that?
Minutes later, Sawyer returned to his office. He couldn’t stop thinking about Grace meeting with that socialite model Griffin Carlisle.
He fired up his computer and ran a quick internet search. Yep. Same guy he remembered from some of the wilder Seattle parties Daniella had loved.
Born and raised in Seattle, Griffin lived off his parents’ largesse, early IBM stock investments, not managing any actual business of his own. A year ago, he’d posed nude to draw attention to corrupt chinchilla farming.
What was Grace walking into? He watched the clock, which ticked by very slowly.
At last, Sawyer turned his energy to dog training, focusing on Bert for over an hour and the others after. It was a strong group, and his hopes for the facility lifted.
Once the dogs were settled in for the night, Sawyer left Bark Camp, knowing he’d come back and check on them again before going to bed. In order to train them successfully, he was keeping these new dogs at the center. They were work dogs, not pets, and the line was a fine one. Perhaps that was a mistake he’d made with Bert. He seemed to be blurring lines all over the place lately.
The pups would be rewarded with treats and affection, but first and foremost they had to learn how to behave, to best help those who needed it, in ways only they could. His strict Catholic upbringing and the Marines had taught him boundaries were fundamental, that there had to be an alpha. Following the rules could be the difference between life and death.
He arrived home and let Bert out of the SUV. The three good dogs greeted him as they’d been trained—no jumping or knocking into him. Bert, however, ducked and jumped, wanting to play. Holding tight to his leash, Sawyer forced the rowdy dog to sit, while the others sniffed him. His tongue lolled, but he stayed put.
Sawyer couldn’t help but smile at the doofus.
The house phone rang as he unhooked Bert from the leash. Sawyer recognized his realtor’s number and answered. “Hello.”
“Sawyer,” Angelo said. “How’s your remodel going?”
“Excellent. I’m happy with the property.” Sawyer opened the back slider, and Sky, Diamond, Kita, and Bert all trotted out with him. He hooked Bert’s collar on the running line to keep him in the yard.
All four raced the length of the grass, back and forth like it was Independence Day.
“I heard a rumor,” Angelo said.
“I hate gossip.” Sawyer immediately assumed it had to do with Daniella.
“Let me rephrase,” the realtor said smoothly. “I’ve heard that a property in your area might soon be up for sale.”
Land did interest him. “Where?”
“Right next door.”
Sawyer peered past a canopy of big-leafed maples to the sprawling beige house half an acre away. “I’m not sure I’m in the market for another home at the moment.”
“Not for a home,” said the realtor. “I’m looking at the place here. I can send you pictures. A half acre right next to yours. The structure is tiny. It would be nothing to knock down, or you could use it for storage. It’d be a great investment. You could double your waterfront property.”
Sawyer’s stomach knotted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The only property like that he knew of belonged to Grace.
“I’ve heard it’s a back taxes situation,” Angelo said. “You could probably get it for a steal.”
Oh, hell. Why hadn’t Grace told him she was in trouble? After emphatically asking Angelo to keep what he knew about the property to himself, Sawyer hung up the phone.
He rushed down to the beach, hoping Grace and Violet would be there by the dock. His instinct was to help, but he wasn’t sure how. He needed to ask her if she even wanted to stay here—maybe the upkeep on the old home was too much? Maybe she had no plans to stay in Kingston at all. Seattle or New York might be a more Cosmopolitan place for her photography business. Could that be why she was so aloof?
He studied the back of her house from his spot on the beach in the dim light of evening. The cement blocks could use a coat of paint, and the wood trim as well. The roof was fine, the garage solid. The dock needed fixing, but the grounds were beautiful with flowers and a lush green lawn. Her fat chickens clucked contently.
She had an abundant garden, even close to the end of September. Grace was evident in each sunflower petal. Where was she? He could tell the house was empty, but he checked the side for her van, just to be sure.
Nothing.
Were she and Griffin at dinner? Had the business meeting turned into drinks and a date? Why did that bother him so much? He couldn’t offer her more than he already had—stealing kisses in the office when no one was around. That’s as far as they could go.
Sawyer forced himself to go back inside and save his questions for the morning. He was so out of sorts over Grace that he crossed yet another line and let Bert sit next to him on the couch.
Chapter Seventeen
Grace applied purple eyeliner to jazz up her boring work uniform. Sawyer had instructed her to have the shirt tucked into denims, but he hadn’t said anything about what makeup she could wear.
She’d dreamed all night of squirrels and other Puget Sound wildlife and planned to take Violet with her for a picnic this Saturday while Lottie worked at the coffee shop. After yesterday’s interview with Griffin, where he’d offered her five hundred dollars per picture, even before she’d signed up to do the coffee table book, she’d brought a cheese pizza over to Lottie’s. They’d gossiped about Griffin, growing up rich, and about how to hang up Mr. Haviland by the toes in order to save her house.
Sawyer was never far from her thoughts, but she didn’t tell Lottie they’d kissed twice now and she still wanted more. It was too…special and too…doomed. They had so many strikes against them that it was best to keep their kisses secret.
As an added pleasant surprise, her van started on the first try, and she arrived at work ten minutes early. Having saved the money from her paychecks, she virtually had the eighteen hundred dollars she needed to get her van fixed. She only had to wait until she no longer needed to use the Volkswagen to get to work, because the mechanic had told her it’d take at least a week to fix.
Grace settled at her desk, somewhat distracted. Sawyer was in his office, talking to someone, so she didn’t disturb him.
She logged onto her computer and scanned through her emails, finding one from the Zed black-and-white photo contest she’d entered. Taking in a breath, she opened the email. In great big letters it said: WINNER – SECOND PLACE! Grace couldn’t believe it. How could this day get any better? The win came with a five-hundred-dollar prize. The email said to expect a check in the mail. Grace texted the news to Lottie, who quickly texted back, Hurray! I told you so!
The next email was from Kasam Kramer. He was asking for more photos for a calendar his team was working on. She loved the idea and wrote back she would do what she could. Knowing how Sawyer had reacted to her artistic flair last time, she decided to see if she could stay late some afternoons and take photos of the dogs and vets while off the clock.
In the mood f
or celebrating, Grace went into the kitchen and sliced a piece of a pie for her and Sawyer. The sweet apple treat she’d baked was now mostly gone.
She knocked on Sawyer’s office door.
“Come in,” he said.
Pushing down on the handle, she nudged the door open. “Morning.” She lifted the fork and small plate, smelling the tang of cinnamon. “Would you like a piece of pie?”
Sawyer stood from his office chair behind his desk and accepted a plate. “Sure. Thanks.”
Grace sat back in the overlarge chair and edged her fork into the crust.
“Breakfast of champions,” she joked after her first bite.
Sawyer also sat. “I have to admit, I have a sweet tooth.” He closed his eyes and swallowed a bite.
“You’re so fit I figured you never ate sugar.” She kept her eyes focused on the last bit of pie on her plate. He could be a model of fitness, and sexiness, and all other sorts of -nesses.
“I think you are very fit, too.”
She felt herself blush and admitted that she would miss their cautious flirting when she was done working at Bark Camp.
Grace finished her breakfast and then set her plate aside. “I won a photo contest today.”
Sawyer’s dimple showed, and she was glad to be sitting down. It made her weak at the knees. “You did? That’s great news.”
“There’s a five-hundred-dollar prize.”
“Wonderful.” He ate another forkful. “How did your meeting with Griffin go yesterday?”
She scooted herself up straight in the oversize chair. “Better than I could have imagined. He wants a coffee table book for his dad’s birthday in three months.”
“Oh—that’s, well, that’s great. So, he hired you?”
“Not yet, but he’s bought some of my photos and is going to pay me for pictures of a squirrel and a beaver.” She rubbed her hands together.
“A beaver?” He shook his head.