18. Annabelle
Annabelle
A s I stand in my bathroom, getting ready for bed, I look at myself in the mirror, staring at my reflection.
Who am I? I was literally dry humping my lawyer against the wall in my kitchen.
I almost groan now thinking about it. The warm, throbbing feeling is still present down below.
It’s not something I’ve ever done or ever thought I would do.
Make out with a man like that. And that’s exactly what he is, all man , if the bulge I felt when I wrapped my legs around him was any indication.
But it wasn’t just a make-out session, it was much more than that. The feelings that are building for this man are undeniable.
I want to giggle and swoon in excitement, but it isn't just about me. I have two boys, both of whom are asleep in this very house. So even though my body is humming for Sawyer like it hasn’t hummed for years, tonight needs to be calm, because my life is very different now.
Not to mention, there’s something going on here at the property, and I have no idea what it is.
Am I going crazy? Did I hear something? Do my eyes show signs of some kind of neurological condition that maybe makes me think things are happening around me that really aren’t.
Sighing, I look at the gash on my head and use a cool cloth to wipe the dry blood off my cheeks and around it carefully, hissing when it stings.
“You alright?” I look in the mirror, seeing Sawyer in the reflection behind me, leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
“Yeah, it just stings a little.”
“Let me.” Coming to my side, he grabs the cloth from my hand.
“I’m okay,” I tell him but let him take the cloth from me anyway.
“I know,” is all he says, a sweet look in his eyes.
I swallow as he tenderly brushes his fingers across my skin, my face soothing immediately. I close my eyes, reveling in his touch, the way he holds me like I will break. As hard as it is for me to give myself over, that’s exactly what I do in this moment as I let him take care of me.
Looking down, I take in his new look. With his suitcase still in his truck from his trip here, he has a t-shirt and sweatpants on hand, and he’s already changed for bed. Out of his suit, wearing casual clothes like this, makes him a hundred times more approachable, more real.
“I still can’t believe Kevin called you.”
“I’m glad he did.” He continues to clean my skin.
“He never uses my phone for anything. I guess he doesn’t have anyone to call.” Although my son is quiet around Sawyer, he clearly trusts him enough to call if needed. That brings warmth to my chest, realizing that this could be Kevin accepting Sawyer, or at least starting to.
“That boy would do anything for you, including calling me, a man who he seems to only grunt at for the most part,” he says with a soft smile.
“I think he likes you.”
“Hmmm. I’ve never had to prove my worth to kids as well as their mom before, but it’s a challenge I’m going to take on.” His honesty hits me right in the chest, and I swallow hard.
I lift my hands and hold on to his torso, feeling his solid frame underneath, as he continues to run the cool cloth gently on my face.
His muscles clench a little at my touch, and I’m surprised by how firm he is.
In a t-shirt, his arms are showcased more, his biceps a clear indicator that he works out.
Probably at a gym or something since he works at a desk all day.
My mind wanders to what might be underneath his t-shirt, that thought making me shiver, anticipation right on the cusp.
“Are you cold?” He moves the cloth, putting it under water to rinse. Once he squeezes out the water, he looks back at me, one finger under my chin and lifting my head to meet his eyes, before he puts the cool cloth back on my forehead.
“I’m fine.” I stand in front of him in my shorts and singlet. My sleepwear is just as casual as his, although I bet a lot cheaper and a lot older.
“You will have a nice little bruise here for a few days.” He growls a little.
I know he isn’t happy, and the fact that he’s here, doing this, staying the night, shows me that he cares.
I’m not sure many other men would do this.
In fact, I’m almost positive they wouldn’t.
My fear has almost all left me now that he’s staying.
Having another adult in the house, a man, provides me a little relief, allowing me to lower my guard.
“At least it isn’t a black eye or something.”
“Still beautiful to me.” Lowering the cloth from my head, his eyes take in every feature of my face.
“Thank you for staying.” I feel a little vulnerable as his hand comes to my cheek, his fingers skirting over my skin before his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. He leans down, his eyes firmly on mine before he places his lips on mine.
“Ma!” I hear a groggy voice and quickly pull back from Sawyer.
“Noah, honey, are you alright?” I look to the doorway, seeing that he has red eyes from crying.
“I saw monsters again and my monster spray is empty,” he cries, and I leave the small cocoon I was in with Sawyer to walk over and scoop him up.
“Monster spray?” Sawyer asks from over my shoulder, where I feel him standing at my back, just as quick to get to Noah as I was. His hands rest on my waist, and I lean back a little, feeling my back hit his solid chest and my body eases. He’s here. He’s supporting me.
“It’s a special spray we use to keep the bedtime monsters away.”
“Where do you get it from? Do you want me to go buy some?” He’s seemingly ready to do anything I need, and I roll my lips to hold back a grin.
“Ma makes it for me,” Noah says between sniffles as he leans away from me and puts his arms out to Sawyer. I feel my heart skip a beat.
“You want to come to me, buddy?” Sawyer seems surprised if his wide eyes are any tell.
“Yeah,” Noah hiccups, and I look at Sawyer in question.
“I got him. You go make your monster spray.” He takes Noah from my arms and pulls him to his torso. Sawyer's large arms embrace my son, and I can’t move as I watch the two of them, Sawyer immediately grabbing a tissue and wiping my son's face with the same soft touch I just experienced.
“Should we go to your room and wait for your ma?” Sawyer asks Noah, but looks up, asking me the silent question.
I nod as Noah hiccups a yes. I walk to the kitchen to quickly fill up an empty spray bottle with water, adding some blue glitter from my small craft box and mixing the concoction until it’s ready to fight the monsters.
Walking back down the hallway to Noah's room, I pause at the door. Sawyer’s sitting by Noah's bed, my son tucked in tight and cozy, and reading him a book. I swallow past the lump in my throat as my heart lurches in my chest.
“Here we are.” I step into the room, holding out the water bottle. Noah instantly sits up and grabs it.
“Where did you see the monsters, buddy?” Sawyer asks him, putting the book down.
“Over there.” Noah points toward the window, and I frown. I move over and triple-check it’s locked before I pull the curtains firmly closed.
“There, all locked and tight. No monsters in here tonight.”
“But what if they come back? What if the sprayer doesn’t work?” Noah asks with teary eyes.
“They won't come back. But in case they do, do you want to test the spray on me?” Sawyer asks, and my eyebrows rise.
“But what if it hurts you?” Noah asks, his little eyebrows pinching together.
“The monster spray only works on monsters, darling. It won’t hurt Sawyer,” I add, coming to his side and kissing him on the forehead.
“Here, have a practice.” Sawyer stands close by and puts out his arms. I internally cringe that his crisp white t-shirt is about to be covered in blue glitter, but he asked for it.
Noah lifts the spray bottle and pulls the trigger a few times, squirting Sawyer right in the chest.
“Good shot. See, I told you, it’s in perfect working order. Your ma wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sawyer grins at him, and I smile. With Noah now seemingly happy, he snuggles into bed, the water bottle firmly in his grasp.
“Good night, honey.” I give his head another kiss and step away.
“Good night, Ma. Good night, Seesaw.” He’s already half asleep, his words mumbled.
“Good night, buddy.” Sawyer takes my hand and leads me out and down the hall to my room.
“I’m sorry about your shirt. I can wash it now, if you like.” I’m ready to fix it, even though it’s late and I’m exhausted.
“Get into bed, Annabelle,” he says firmly.
“But I don't want it to stain or ruin your top…” I add, wondering how bad it will be by morning.
“You’re practically asleep standing up. You’ve had a hell of a night. Don't worry about my top. Get into bed.” I move around to my side of the bed and slip in. At the same time, he grabs the shirt at the back of his neck and pulls it from his frame.
I gulp. I saw his brother's body on my cell phone, which surprised me. But now that I’m seeing the same defined muscles and the contouring of Sawyer's body in real life… I can’t move my eyes.
“This alright? I don’t want to wear wet clothes to bed.” He remains standing, looking at me. I like that he asks me. He doesn’t take it for granted that he can move around my space without my approval.
I pull the covers up to my chin. “Uh-huh.” I nod, somewhat dazed, wondering if he can see drool on my chin from looking at his beautiful bare chest. The small smirk he gives me tells me that he does.
He slides into the bed beside me, and my heart races like I’ve run a marathon.
I haven’t had a man in this bed in a very long time.
Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath.
“Come here, my little warrior.” He reaches for me, his large, strong hands finding my waist, and he pulls me across the bed and into his warm embrace.
With my back now firmly against his bare chest, he hugs me to him, and I ease into it, feeling safe, secure, and content for the first time in forever.
“Warrior?” I grin, even though he can’t see me.