Chapter Four
Evie
I should be home taking long deep breaths as I try to deconstruct the conversation I had with Sawyer earlier. Instead, I’m sitting on a docked boat at the lake while men ogle women wearing next to nothing the night before my wedding.
My stomach turns and I take a small sip of the ginger ale I’ve been carrying around. At least the weather is pleasant. There’s a warm breeze, and the sky is perfectly clear, giving way to thousands of sparkling stars.
Sawyer brought me out here one night back in the day. He’d thought of everything. A soft blanket for us to lay on, a slice of raspberry pie, and two cups of warm tea. We laid under the stars for hours that night talking about life beyond Earth, human connection, and cosmic order. The funny thing is, we laid under the stars, but I’m not sure we ever saw them. We were too busy staring at each other.
His hands were in my hair, on my skin, and against my face. I wished so many times that he’d have gone further with me, but I know he was desperately trying to respect my wishes. I told him early on that we could never be physical in that way, knowing I wasn’t going to be his forever. That said, it was a struggle some nights to walk away without feeling him. Those nights, I went home and touched myself to thoughts of his big, rough hands on my body… to thoughts of the way his teeth scraped across the base of my neck when he kissed me… to thoughts of how perfect the weight of his body felt against mine.
My clit throbs just thinking about it. I should’ve fucked him. At least then, I’d have something warm to look back on. Instead, I have a pile of what-if’s the size of a house, and an ache so deep I’m afraid it’ll never be filled.
God, why did I have to go to Rugged Mountain today? It’s my brain playing sick tricks. Why else would I go talk to the man I’m in love with for the first time in five years the day before my wedding? Clearly, I’m repenting for some past life of sin and gluttonous glory.
“Oh fuck.” Some skinny dude with short black hair bumps into me, spilling his liquor on my dress. I’m not angry about the dress. I’m angry he interrupted my memory. I could’ve sat in that thought for hours, remembering the way Sawyer’s calloused hands felt on my skin or the way his deep voice sounded in my ear. I could’ve easily taken those memories and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes to set them free.
Before I get a chance to respond, the man has wandered off and buried his face in some woman’s breasts.
“What’s your problem?” Leon leans against the bar, ordering another drink as he stares toward me. His eyes are heavy, and his words are slurred. “You’ve been over here sulking all night.”
More like fantasizing all night, but if that looks like sulking to him, okay . “Maybe it’s because I’m tired of babysitting.”
He rolls his eyes. “There’s a bedroom downstairs you can lock yourself in. I’m sure you’ve got a book in your phone or something.”
The fact that his suggestion was for me to disappear rather than comfort me is right on point with how this entire relationship has been from the start. We’re both here out of obligation, I know that, but I guess I thought we’d at least find friendship.
There’s no way that’ll happen with Leon. I can’t count how many times he’s already cheated on me, and not once did he act like he gave a damn about it.
“Yeah,” I tilt my head to the side and drag in a breath of woodsy lake air, “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Babe, don’t go. Come on. If my mom hears I let you leave alone, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
There really is nothing attractive about a thirty-year-old man being so stuck under his mother’s thumb, though I guess someone could say the same for me.
I shrug. “It’s eleven thirty. I have to be up at eight for the wedding and it’s still a thirty-minute drive back to the house. I’m tired and I’m going home.”
He grips my arm and tugs me into his orbit with aggression. This is a first.
I tear my arm away. “I’m going home. You should stay somewhere else tonight.”
He huffs under his breath, spreading the sickening smell of bourbon and whiskey. “You’re such a bitch. Please tell me you’re not going to be like this our entire life.”
“She’s a bitch?” a deep voice rumbles behind me, and my heart stops. “You touch her again and I’ll cut your fuckin’ hands off.”
I glance back to see Sawyer standing tall and wide behind me.
Oh God.
He’s here. He’s like… right there. He’s there like a fairytale, right there. Like a knight in shining armor, right there. Like a guy who’s gonna save me from everything, right there. Like a clit throbbing, panty-drenching savior, right there.
“What are you doing here?” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “This is a private party.”
Leon laughs and nearly tips over. “I remember you. You’re the big idiot from the tattoo shop. What the hell are you doing here?”
Sawyer doesn’t answer. His arms cross over one another, he breathes low in his throat, and I swear I hear a growl. “Why don’t you go back to your party. I’ll take the girl home.”
My heart races quickly as I try to process everything that’s happening. Maybe Sawyer isn’t actually here. Maybe that drunk guy knocked me into the water, and this is all some kind of fantasy I’m having due to lack of oxygen. I think I remember hearing about this phenomenon once in some documentary with a kayaker who flipped under a waterfall. The guy was unconscious for like three minutes and he imagined an alternate life so real that when he came back to reality, he had to live the fantasy life for real.
Leon’s eyes follow a pair of tits half hanging from a bikini. “Whatever. Just don’t be late for the wedding tomorrow, and if my mom asks, I’m telling her you were here all night.” He grabs his drink off the counter and stumbles back into the party.
I’m not hurt. I don’t care about Leon enough to give a damn what he does with other women, but I’m sad at the thought of the rest of our lives being this difficult. I mean, why can’t he do it quietly like other shitty men?
Sawyer’s dark brown gaze warms me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I drag in a heavy breath, “I’m embarrassed. My feet are killing me from these stupid heels, and,” I stare down at my dress, “I’m covered in liquor.”
“Okay.” He leans in and lifts me off my feet, holding me against his chest as though he’s the hero in some action movie. “Well, let’s get you changed.”
Maybe I should fight his touch. I’ll be married tomorrow, and I don’t want to be a sleaze like Leon. Then again, nothing is happening. I’m just a tired girl, covered in liquor, being carried by a giant man to a parking lot. That’s perfectly normal, right?
I lean against the warmth of his chest and close my eyes, remembering the way his heart beats hard and steadily. Remembering the way it felt to be close to him. Remembering the rush of pine and cedar I always get when I’m breathing him in.
Safe. I feel so damn safe. Like no matter what happens, this man will take care of me.
Immediately, I lean up and wiggle down to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” He brushes his square hand down over his beard. “You’re tired, and it’s late. I can carry you.”
Clearly, the man can carry me. There’s no doubt about that. You know who can’t carry me?
Leon.
You know who doesn’t make me feel safe?
Leon.
You know who doesn’t care that I’m tired, or that we’re getting married tomorrow, or that his head is buried in six inches of cleavage?
Leon.
“I know, I just… I think I’ll walk. Thanks, but, ugh… what are you doing here? Did you like follow me or something?”
He laughs under his breath and strokes his hand over his beard again. It’s gotten longer than it was years ago. Grayer too. I kind of like it this way… not that it matters.
“Would I be an asshole if I said yes?”
A shot of warmth rushes through me for some sick reason.
“Umm… not an asshole, but maybe mentally unstable.”
Sawyer laughs and hops down off the boat ramp before turning back to help me onto the wooden dock. He’s careful with me. The way he touches me. The way he makes me feel when he talks.
“Guess I’m mentally unstable then. You were talking about coming out here earlier, and you know the lake is on my way home, so… I thought I’d see what was up. Looks like I missed the ‘pour alcohol on the bride’ portion of the night, though.”
“Yeah, well, turns out that’s my groom’s idea of a good time.”
“He poured the alcohol on you?”
“No, one of his buddies.” I blow out a breath and stare up at the stars as we walk down the narrow path off the dock. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, I thought I did. This wedding is important to my dad, to everyone. I…” My chest tightens and the stars start spinning as my breath picks up.
Seriously, Evie? You’re going to have a meltdown right here? Awesome. Great decision making on my part.
I should’ve stayed put and waited for Leon to get his head out of those tits so we could go home. Better yet, I should’ve kicked him off the boat and watched him swim to shore so he’d have to go home and change. Hell, the man probably would’ve stripped down and worn a tablecloth if it meant partying all night.
“I’d ask what you want, but I have a feeling you’re not allowing yourself that option.” Sawyer opens the passenger door of his truck and helps me inside before rounding to his side to climb in. “I mean, you were supposed to marry this guy five years ago, right? You’ve dragged it out for a reason.”
“God, you sound like my sister.”
“Your sister sounds smart.” He pushes the ignition and glances toward me.
I roll my eyes to the side and purse my lips playfully. “She does, and I know you’re both right. I know I should live my life for me, but I don’t know how to do that. I mean, I really don’t. My dad has such a hold on everythi—”
“I can take care of us, Evie. If he sends someone after us, I’ll take care of it.” His voice is rough and deep, sending a carnal signal to my brain that’s feeding me all types of desires I shouldn’t be craving.
The truth is, my father has more than guns, he has wealth, and wealthy people might be the scariest of all. With money, my father can make anything happen, and he has. Grace loved dinosaurs when she was little, so my father bought her an entire dinosaur. Every single bone of a stegosaurus. He had it set in the foyer of her bedroom, only to find out later the bones had been stolen by some seller in Mongolia. I don’t remember what happened, but I know my father didn’t give the bones up to the authorities.
What normal family does that happen to?
I glance toward Sawyer as he turns up the heat. It’s hard not to notice how good he looks. His shoulders are broad, his hat is on backward, and the sleeves of his flannel are rolled to show rows of tattoos. I need to look away, but my eyes hold on his. “Do you still think about us?”
Why did I ask that?
“Never mind,” I lean forward, my cheeks turning red, “I’m so sorry. Ignore me. I’m clearly out of my mind tonight. I think it’s probably wedding jitters or something like that. I don’t know. Either way, I’m an idiot.”
His hand lands on my thigh then moves roughly up my arm and onto the side of my face, redirecting my gaze toward his. Heat spills into the small space, and though it’s a cooler night, I swear I’m sweating.
As my lips part, my brain keeps screaming, ‘ This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.’
I should escape. I can’t let this go any further. I’m marrying Leon. It’s what my father wants. Arranged marriage has been a part of my family for generations. I can’t be the one to break it all in half. I have to go through with this wedding. It doesn’t matter what I feel. I have to do what I have to do.
“I think of you every second of every day,” Sawyer whispers gruffly. “When I’m waking up, when I’m in the shower, when I pour my cereal into my bowl, when I’m working, when I come home, when I’m stick slicing, when I’m eating dinner, when I’m walking by that flower shop for the hundredth time trying to catch a glimpse of you, when I’m crawling in bed at night, when I’m dreaming.” He brushes his hand over the side of my face. “You’re all I’m thinking about, Evie. You, and only you. And judging by that tattoo on your arm, you’ve been thinking of me too.”
My heart crushes, then warms and expands, and ultimately sinks into my stomach as reality hits. Nothing can come of this. Nothing. The sooner I grow the hell up and start accepting that, the better off everything will be.
“I have to go.” I open the truck door and hop back out into the cool night air, but I’m met with the solid frame of a man on a mission.
“Why?” Sawyer groans in front of me as though he’s been transported there.
God, he smells good. Familiar and good. Like an old friend, like the love of my life—like a man. Like a big, rough, hardworking man.
My thighs ache.
“I’m getting married tomorrow. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come with you, and you shouldn’t have come here. I can’t do this.” I storm away, walking back toward the boat where I see my fiancé buried between two women.
“Fuck!” Sawyer groans, his giant hand cups the back of my neck as he pulls me back toward him. “I’m getting really tired of you walking away.”
His hand sits firm on the back of my neck as I stare up at him.
Why am I not mad? I should be furious. No one touches me that way, except him apparently, because my panties are soaking wet and I’m about as desperate as someone can be. I mean, desperate. I need this man to bend me over and fill me up.
I can’t fight it any longer!
“I love you, Sawyer! I’ll always love you, but—”
“Stop saying that shit!”
Is he yelling at me?
“You love me, so do something about it. Tell your father and leave that asshole. I’m right here to pick up the pieces. I’ll keep you safe.”
“And who’ll keep you safe, Sawyer? I’ve told you half a dozen times who my father is and what he’s done before, what he’s capable of. Do you understand that I’ve been protecting you, too?”
He growls under his breath and holds me tighter against his chest. “Then let’s protect each other, princess. It can be you and me against the world.”
I tuck my chin as my legs turn to Jello, my clit hammers, and my heart sets on fire. Why does it feel so good to be around a man who’s acting like a grown man? A man who shows me how much he cares? A man who isn’t entertaining forty other women?
My entire body itches to jump into Sawyer’s arms, to let him take me away, to disappear with him and never look back. I can’t do that, right?
I remind myself of all the drama I’d be causing. Then, the drama comes to me. Heavy footsteps echo behind me alongside a high-pitched giggle I don’t recognize. I turn back slowly to see Leon stumbling down the walkway. His arm is around some girl I don’t know. She’s wearing a slutty red dress with the strap hanging off her shoulder.
At least her tits are covered.
I expect him to stop me, to notice I’m still here, to notice Sawyer is only inches from my face, to notice how upset I’ve been, to feel bad about leaving me alone the night before our wedding. It’s not that I need him to care, I don’t. I know we both hate the idea of marrying each other, but I guess it would be nice if we were trying to give a damn.
God, what am I signing up for?
He saunters by, hitting the lock on the key fob a few feet away before smacking the busty blonde on the ass and helping her into his car.
Needing solidarity, I glance back at Sawyer, but his jaw has locked as he stares toward Leon. The last time I saw this look was at the tattoo shop five years ago when Sawyer started throwing punches, leaving Leon with a cracked nose.
“Hey,” I tap Sawyer on the shoulder, trying to shake him out of the mode he’s driving himself into. “Come on. It’s fine. Can you take me home? I’m exhausted.”
Sawyer glances toward me, his gaze lit with the fire of a thousand dragons. “Princess, wait in the truck. I’ve got shit to take care of.”
My head feels light, and though I don’t want Leon to get hurt, I’ve never felt safer, or more turned on— which is going to be a problem.