Mentally admonishing myself, I quickly discounted this as a crazy idea and figured he'd think he had a new stalker in the hard-up woman he'd met in the rain if I did. With this thought came another—he'd likely left me his calling card because this was his expert way in dealing with abrupt endings.
As difficult as it felt to do, I crushed the card in my hand and tossed it in the trash with a small pain of loss in my heart. I decided, if nothing else, Sawyer had helped me confront my husband most spectacularly.
True to his word, Logan tried to call me the following morning. Instead of letting him gain control, like he usually did when tough decisions had been made in our marriage, I turned the sound off, let it ring, and sent his call to voicemail. Later that day, I deleted his message without listening to it. I was determined to stay in charge of my life and refused to let Logan inside my head.
Meeting Sawyer for that short space in time had made me feel empowered when I'd felt helpless. Afterward, I'd felt the tide had turned. Firing off a text, I told Logan all communication in the future would be through my lawyer until the divorce was complete.
My one-in-a-million chance meeting with a kind stranger had given me a new perspective on life. If it taught me nothing else, it showed me I could do hard things outside of my comfort zone when I felt the need to.
Chapter Four
Even after the kiss, Logan had witnessed, he was reluctant to believe the story Sawyer had woven the day we'd met in that wine bar. However, seeing how I'd kissed my handsome acquaintance, Logan finally accepted I'd never want him back and I wanted to end our marriage.
The incident with Sawyer, and knowing I was at least still kissable, had given me a small degree of confidence that my life wasn't over following the end of my marriage. And although I knew it would take me more time to move on, I knew I wanted to change.
* * *
Nine months later, my way of living was almost unrecognizable from the sheltered, rigid routines I'd had when I was with Logan.
This had been mainly because I'd ditched my high-pressure wealth management job for a Monday to Friday advisor position at a small mortgage broker firm. Arranging appointments with people; sometimes in their own homes, had afforded me a certain amount of flexibility when I needed to be around for Colby.
Apart from the job itself, I had become firm friends with a single woman, Tricia, who was a year older than me. We gelled from the moment we’d met, and although I was quiet and reserved, she more than made up for us both.
When she had found out I had every other weekend on my own, Tricia, who was a party girl and had never been married, insisted on pulling me out of my shell and had slowly taught me how to be single again.
* * *
As Logan packed Colby's weekend bag in the trunk of his car, I looked up at the cloudless blue sky and felt a bubble of nervous excitement form in my gut when I remembered my plans for the weekend ahead without my son.
Standing at my front door, I had allowed my mind to wander, but I snapped out of my reverie when I heard the soft clunk of Logan's trunk closing.
My attention turned toward the car again. Logan gave me a sideways glance, then hesitated for a moment before he turned, shoved a hand deep into one of his front pants pockets, and headed back toward me.
My chest immediately tightened in anticipation of the awkward conversation ahead. This was the first time he'd collected Colby from home, and it was the first visit for Colby since our divorce had been finalized.
No matter how much he'd hurt me, abused my trust, or shattered my confidence in men, there was still a small piece of my heart that defied my head and ached for Logan and the love we had lost.
I knew how weak that sounded in my head, but no matter what he'd done, not all of the ten years we'd been married had been bad. I didn't know how to just stop loving someone because they'd betrayed my trust.
For all that had passed between us, there were many times, since the day he walked away, when my aching heart still fought to catch up to the present and how badly he'd betrayed me.
Some people were able to compartmentalize their feelings; unfortunately, I wasn't one of them. There was a part of me that wondered whether I'd always have the same conflicted feelings when I still had to face Logan every other week while Colby grew up.
"Did you pack his swimming gear?" Logan asked. His tone was remarkably mild-mannered, despite me having gained most of the assets from the divorce.
"Of course. I know you always take him to the beach. You can keep all of the clothes he has with him at your place." For a long minute, he stood quietly, and I felt unnerved when I saw the affectionate look he gave me. I recognized it from our past.
"You look stunning, by the way. Your hair's grown and the style looks very sexy on you," he offered, dipping his head in my direction as his studious eyes focused on my hair.
My chest immediately grew tight with frustration that he should have said such a thing to me now, because in the decade or so we'd been together, he'd never volunteered an opinion on how I looked, other than on our wedding day.
The tightness I felt increased but with a different feeling this time—anger. When I didn't respond, he shoved his free hand into his other pocket and cast his gaze to his feet.
A few seconds later he heaved out a sigh and looked back up at me. "Is it all right if I bring Colby back around 5:00 p.m.? Poppy has tickets for a play on Broadway for Sunday evening."
My initial instinct was to challenge him, because the agreement was until 6:00 p.m. As it was, he only had Colby every other weekend and shared time during the holidays. I tamped down my impulse to start an argument, thinking of our son, who was seated in the car.
"Sure, I should be here from around 4:30," I offered, my heart twinging painfully at the sound of Poppy's name dropping casually from his lips.
"Why? Where are you going?" I raised an eyebrow and scoffed at his question.
What I had meant was if I'd gone shopping I would be sure to be home for their return, but when he pointedly challenged my movements, I felt annoyed. "I don't think you have any right to ask. That's my business."
"What's the big deal? I just told you about my plans."
"Yes, but you volunteered those. I'm not into playing nice and sharing my life with you outside of Colby," I stated, firmly.
"Are you seeing someone?" he asked, his narrowed eyes scrutinizing mine. "Because if you are, I hope you've found a guy more suitable than the hookup I saw you with last Christmas."
"Sawyer wasn't a hookup."
"Not the vibe I got. Where is he now?"
"Just go," I muttered. I felt defeated because I had no comeback, and I felt incensed that he could still get a rise out of me.
Logan snickered and shook his head. "See you Sunday," he reminded me, as he turned and walked back to his car. I waved again to Colby, who was already buckled into his car seat, and watched Logan's broad shoulders and back as he reached the car.
Taking a deep breath, I let out a sad sigh when he slid into the driver's seat. Suddenly my heart ached when my wicked mind flipped for a minute and reminded me how hard and unyielding Logan's back muscles used to feel under my hands.
The immature part of me wanted to put Logan in his place by telling him I had a date, but I wasn't all that confident in what Tricia had arranged. It was to be a blind date, a double date, and my first time out in a decade with a man who wasn't my husband.
A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of meeting a man who looked at me not as Logan's wife but as someone unattached.
My nerves bundled inside when I considered how I was supposed to trust someone else after I had given my trust to a man I had thought would never hurt me and he'd let me down.
My mind was steeped in negativity about Logan, and I felt sorry for any date arranged on my behalf because my walls of self-protection had gotten taller since my incident with Sawyer, and I'd grown skeptical of all romantic relationships.
Thankfully, Tricia was going to b
e with me and had arranged for us to meet at a well-known dive bar across town, which featured live music every weekend. At least I wouldn't be expected to keep the conversation going all night.
When we finally arrived at the bar, I was introduced to Vince and was pleasantly surprised by my date. He was a friend of a friend of Tricia's, and he sounded as excited about meeting me as Tricia had been to get me to agree to the date.
A tall, slim, attractive-looking man, Vince had light brown hair similar to Logan's, but his eyes were a piercing blue color and thankfully not the same dark brown color as my ex-husband's.
At five foot eleven, he was slightly smaller than Logan, but Vince's charm and attentiveness far superseded that of my ex.
From the moment we met, Vince appeared determined to make sure I had a great time, encouraging me to talk about myself. I felt he was genuinely interested in what I had to say, and it was a nice change from the patronizing lip service I had gotten used to from Logan's colleagues and friends.
Contrary to any concerns I'd had about my reserved nature I wasn't at all tongue-tied. The conversation was light, funny, and I was amazed at how easily it flowed between the four of us.
Perhaps it had been because I had no expectations on my end for the evening I'd felt comfortable, and it had felt as if I had known them for years.
Vince was a geologist and only shared what he did after I'd asked. As he explained how important his job was to the oil company he worked for, I listened attentively and studied his kind-looking face. He had a warm, friendly smile, and although there wasn't any great spark romantically, I liked him.
When Vince finished talking, Graham, Tricia's date, looked at his watch and waved the waitress over to order more drinks, informing us the live music was due to start in ten minutes.
As he ordered more cocktails for us ladies and beers for himself and Vince, I took advantage of the pause in the conversation to excuse myself and headed for the restroom. I was coming out of the stall to wash my hands when Tricia came in and joined me.
"Well? What do you think?" she probed eagerly, her jade green eyes big and round as she stared excitedly, anticipating my answer.
"He's nice?" I replied, honestly.
A frown creased her brow. "Nice?" she screeched. "Have we been looking at the same guy? He's fucking hot. Did you see the way he's been checking you out? The way he's attentive? What else do you want, girl? He's got personality, great looks, a great job and no kids. If I'd had a shopping list for a man, he'd have checked all of those off."
All of what she'd said was true, but there was still something missing, though I'd never have voiced this to Tricia.
Shrugging, I flashed her a small, wry smile. "And there's the problem. I don't have much going for me with a guy like him. He'd get bored. I'm not very dynamic and I have baggage. Besides, I'm not altogether sure I'm ready for this."
"Colby isn't baggage," she stated, and I immediately thought I'd hit the nail on the head with the rest of my excuse.
"I'm not talking about Colby. I'm talking about how I feel about myself, about Logan and his younger model,Tricia, I'm talking about whether, at my age, I’m really up to trusting another man?"
"You'll get there. At this point, it's just a date. What happens is up to you and Vince. Or are you happy to let that fucker Logan map out how you live for the rest of your life?" Tricia was one to talk when she wouldn't commit to any relationship herself.
"No, I'm not happy, and I don't want him to cloud the rest of my life. I'm just not all that sure that I'm—"
"Ready? I get that," she interjected, and her eyes softened as they held my nervous gaze. "It's all you've been telling me since the moment I met you," she reminded me. Luckily for me, the introduction of "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica began to play on an electric guitar in the distance and I interrupted her with a nod. "Come on, the music's starting and I love this song."
After an initial glance toward the stage, I was surprised to see there was only one male musician on stage when it was supposed to have been a band. The lighting had been dimmed and my eyes were still adjusting as we weaved our way back to the table.
Once I was seated, I turned my attention back toward the performer and immediately my breath caught in my throat. A strong shock of electricity jolted through me, tightening my chest to the point where my nerves made my body vibrate.
Through narrowed eyes, I squinted up at the familiar-but-not hot rugged guy sitting up on the stage. Everything about him was insanely attractive as he belted out the famous rock tune to the audience with his eyes half-closed.
My gaze honed in on his long nimble fingers as they worked effortlessly over the fret, and my attention was riveted to the man I knew far better than I should have.
Confusion and denial had me reasoning it couldn't possibly have been Sawyer, because the hot bearded musician before me was dressed a mile apart from my Sawyer, and was so naturally talented and at home up there he'd been performing for years.
From what I could remember the similarities were remarkable, and when I couldn't reconcile the man in the suit from the wine bar with the man I was looking at, I felt completely confused.
It had been ten months since I'd seen my stranger in the wine bar, yet his image was firmly ingrained in my mind. Despite how different the guy singing on the stage looked, he still bore a striking resemblance to the man I knew as Sawyer Wild.
This man had a similar hairstyle and same dark brown color with a satiny-looking texture, though it was an inch or two longer on the top. He looked more rugged, far wilder, and less aware in his appearance than the immaculately dressed man I had encountered before.
However, with every minute that passed, I grew more certain the hot-as-hell musician performing in front of me was the same young man who'd defended my dignity in front of my husband and his mistress.
Bewildered, I sat while my whole body trembled from seeing him again, and I was stumped by his change of career from the suave lady-killer I'd met in the wine bar to that of the grungy, sexy rocker up on stage.
It was only when he began to sing "Jealous" by Labyrinth that his beautiful hazel eyes roamed over the audience and they casually happened upon mine. I knew the instant he recognized me when he rewarded my presence with huge wide eyes and a perfectly wicked toothy smile.
A shock of electricity thrilled me as it coursed through my veins, heated my blood, and made me instantly blush. I couldn't believe it when he acknowledged me with a salute during a break in the beat and my heart almost burst out of my chest.
Tricia's head snapped in my direction, her huge wide eyes bulging in question. "Was that for you? That salute? Do you know him?" Tricia shrilled, her hand grabbing my wrist and locking it tight to my thigh.
"Maybe," I stated, a little embarrassed because I was out on a date and unsure about how to explain who Sawyer was and how I had met him. For starters, his business card had said he was a male escort, not a musician.
Secondly, I wasn't at all sure the name he'd given me at the time was his real one, despite the business card. And thirdly, how did I tell her I had once locked tonsils with him when he was a gentleman escort? The whole story sounded like something I'd have said during a game of Never Have I Ever.
"You're a dark horse, lady. How do you know him?" she probed further.
"Shh," demanded the guy behind us, which made us both turn and focus a glare on him before we looked back at the stage.
"I'll tell you later," I promised in a whisper, glad for the burly bald guy's timely interruption. As Tricia settled down, I began to have a quiet meltdown about what I would say to Sawyer if he were to approach our table after the gig to speak to us.
Glancing toward Vince and Graham, I felt grateful they were both wrapped up in the music and hadn't noticed the interaction between me and my friend.
A break in Sawyer's performance gave us the opportunity to talk to the guys, and during the conversation, my mind drifted again to Sawyer. Luckily, it was only a ten-m
inute intermission and by the time the lights dimmed again no one appeared to have noticed I hadn't been paying much attention to them.
The instant the spotlight shone on stage, my gaze was pinned toward it and the handsome young man who had broken all the rules in a wine bar ten months before when he'd kissed me.
Perching his butt on a high four-legged stool, Sawyer lifted his guitar and flipped the thick leather strap over his head. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a guitar pick and placed it nimbly between his teeth.
As my hungry eyes followed his every move, they settled on his full, sensual mouth and my core pulsed. Situating himself comfortably on his stool, he adjusted the mic and leaned forward to speak.
"About nine or ten months ago I heard this song on a playlist a day or so after an all-too-brief encounter with a very beautiful lady. Since then, each time I've heard it played on the radio, it has reminded me of her and that rainy day afternoon," he told the audience, with a wicked grin and a suggestive raise of a brow. All coherent thought scattered when I realized he was referring to when he met me.
A ripple of laughter ran through the transfixed crowd. "It isn't a song I can sing to myself, so let me find someone to help." Pretending to look through the crowd for a suitable candidate, his gorgeous hazel eyes scanned over the crowd in the bar before they settled on me. Being shy, I instantly felt like I'd wanted to die.
Staring up at him open-mouthed, I shook my head slowly, my eyes locked into his in a silent plea not to single me out, but when he pointed at me and I refused, he engaged the audience to coax me when I wouldn't budge.
Quietly dying inside from all the attention, I relented. I could see he was hell-bent on not backing down, and with the help of Vince and Graham, I was hoisted up onto the stage as Sawyer swung his guitar behind him and engulfed me in a warm embrace. As soon as he wrapped his arms around me, a thrill of desire shot through me and I felt weak at the knees.
DARE You, Dare Duet, Part One: Billie and Sawyer: Unchained Attraction Series Page 5