The Magic of Light

Chapter

Thirty-One

Soren

Jonah and Lane left after grabbing a handful of Sawyer’s chocolate chip cookies. I threw scowls at the jackasses. Lane’s eyes danced with glee, knowing he was intentionally poking the bear. I couldn’t blame them though—they were dang good cookies. I collected the snack tray and carried it to the kitchen. Sawyer refolded a throw blanket that had gotten disheveled during the game and draped it across the couch. I liked how she looked in my house. Jonah’s little sister, Landry, had helped decorate my house and was responsible for said throw blanket. I loved that I lived in the house I grew up in, but when my parents decided to be retired RV travelers, I renovated and updated almost everything over time.

Landry declared that the blanket made me appear more “normal” and less like a psycho who’s paranoid about having a clean house. She was, by far, substantially cooler than all three of us put together. She enjoyed home decor and it helped her pay the bills as a single mom while in college. I listened to her advice because she was one of my best friend’s little sisters, which also made her my sister. She was also the mom to one of my favorite people, Hope, an eight-month-old butterball that had dimples that turned me into complete Jello. Had I already installed a playground in Landry’s backyard, even though Hope wasn’t old enough to play with it? Yeah, and mostly because I wanted to surpass Lane at being her favorite uncle. Jonah was a given, but I was going to be next in line.

Sawyer gathered up the remaining dishes and walked them into the kitchen.

“I thought of something I could disagree with you about,” she announced, setting the dishes in the sink.

I raised a brow, aware this was coming out of left field, but also proud that she had been contemplating what I had said.

I leaned a hip against the counter. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Your continued terrible taste in music. I saw what your radio was set to,” she quipped, tilting her head to the side toward the radio mounted under my cabinets, making her sunshine hair spill over her shoulder.

I laughed at her spunky statement. She bit her lip, smiling as her bright blue eyes shined.

This was an excellent first disagreement because in the end it really didn’t matter, and I was proud of her for remembering our agreement.

“Terrible taste in music, huh?” I bit back my smile as I turned on the water to wash the handful of dishes from earlier.

“Yeah, it’s . . . old, and there are so many amazing new songs out there. You liked Cal Austin right, and he’s newer.”

“Well, Miss Brannan, I didn’t realize you hated the elderly,” I alleged in mock outrage.

“What?” she shrieked.

“I guess I’ll have to remember that before I introduce you to anyone that qualifies for the senior discount at Ronnie’s Diner.” I turned toward the sink to hide my growing smile as I rolled up my sleeves, knowing that wasn’t her intention but having too much fun teasing her.

“That’s not what I meant, Soren Roberts, and you know it! I love older people. I’m hanging out with you, after all.” I spun to the side as she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to decide whether her joke was too saucy. Her large eyes darted to my forearms, where I had rolled up my sleeves before finding my face again.

“You think I’m elderly?” I asked, not being able to hold back my grin.

I cupped one hand, scooping a small amount of water and bubbles in my palm, walking toward her on the other side of the island.

She eyed my hand and shook her head. Her eyes were as big as saucers.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she tried as she backed away.

“I find that hard to believe.” I continued to stalk toward her, but she stopped and tossed a hand on her hip.

“I mean that girl at the concert thought you were my dad,” she sassed, knowing full well that Felicity was one of those girls that never matured past high school, and I clearly didn’t look that old.

“Well, then come to daddy.”

I hurled as I lunged for her, flicking the handful of water in her direction. She swiftly veered the other direction before circling the island. She made a run for the sink, scooping up a handful of water and bubbles.

“Soren Roberts, I’m gonna get you!” She launched her hand full of sudsy water at me and I wiped at the drips running down my face. I loved the uninhibited happiness on her face as we spent the next couple of minutes tossing water on each other. We chased each other around the kitchen until I called surrender only so she would get close enough for me to catch her. I slung an arm around her waist and tugged her close.

“Soren!” she squealed as I rubbed my wet cheek against hers, her breath catching at the contact.

“You don’t play fair,” she accused. Her eyes met mine. This close I could see all the blues of her eyes and the crease in her bottom lip because of the fullness.

“Nope, I play to win.” At least where she was concerned. Winning the heart of Sawyer Brannan was something I didn’t plan to lose at. I loosened my arm because if I didn’t, I would have slid my hands in her hair and kissed her breathless.

“Wash or dry?” I asked, attempting to get my brain back on track and needing something to do besides running my hands across her curves. An indiscernible expression flickered across her face before she responded.

“Wash. I don’t trust you with the water.” Her lips tipped in a smile that made me wonder if I trusted her with the water. Maybe we should give up and put the dishes in the dishwasher, to stay on the safe side.