Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
WILLA
O utside, the wind howled, and the rain lashed as the category 3 hurricane battered the island. Sutter House creaked around us, sounding for all the world like the hull of a great ship battling the waves, but our little nest in the dining room was pretty cozy. As the central-most room of the house, it made the safest spot to ride out the storm. Sawyer and I had shoved the table that seated sixteen to the far end of the room and covered the whole thing in a tarp. It resembled an indoor greenhouse with all the potted plants we’d hauled inside. That left just enough room for the queen mattress we’d wrestled downstairs and set in front of the fireplace that opened on the other side to the den. The flue was closed, of course, but an assortment of candles had been set inside, waiting to be lit whenever we lost power. Sawyer had produced a portable power station that would be enough to power our devices, a fan, and the mini-fridge he’d hauled down from Granddaddy’s third floor office for at least a day or so. All in all, we were pretty well set.
I was halfway through reviewing my notes on the sustainable tourism initiative grant I’d set aside after Granddaddy died, when the lights finally winked out. “Well, it held longer than I thought it would.”
Sawyer thumbed on the flashlight of his phone and crossed to switch on the battery-powered lanterns set around the room. “Since the storm didn’t make it past cat 3, maybe utilities won’t be down too long.” He grabbed a lantern and brought it over to where I sat in a camp chair, my feet propped on the hearth. “Here, you want to keep working?”
“No, I think I’m probably done for the night.”
“In that case, you hungry?”
“I could definitely eat.” Now that my attention wasn’t absorbed in the work, my stomach decided to make vocal protests at the long stretch since my last snack.
Sawyer chuckled. “Why don’t you set up our picnic spot by the fireplace while I pull things together?”
“That I can do.”
I put my notes away and moved our chairs to make space for one of the thick comforters. Might as well do this whole indoor picnic thing right. I dragged over a small mountain of pillows so we had something to lean against. Then I carefully lit the candles. All clustered together in the fireplace, they made for a rather romantic ambiance. Not that we were necessarily going for that, but it was hard not to focus on the fact that we were sheltering in place together, all by ourselves. It felt close and intimate. I was achingly aware of the fact that it had been three whole days since he’d kissed me. I’d replayed the other night in the kitchen over and over, wishing he’d just let the damned sandwich burn.
He’d been affectionate since then, touching me often, still sharing my bed. But he hadn’t pressed for more. I suspected he wouldn’t in private, but not because he wasn’t attracted. Those kisses we had shared weren’t just acting, and sharing a bed had made certain biological facts more than obvious. He enjoyed kissing me. But he’d said he wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t comfortable with, which meant that if I wanted more, I’d have to be the one to press for it.
Sawyer joined me on the blanket, dropping down with a zippered cooler and one of the big wooden cutting boards from the kitchen. He began pulling things out. Multiple cheeses. Salami. Olives. Roasted red peppers. Apples. A box of fancy crackers. A bottle of wine. The container of cookies Delilah had sent home with us.
“Sawyer Malone, did you really prepare a charcuterie spread for our hurricane party?”
“I mean, it was all stuff in the fridge that would go bad if the power stays off for a while. None of it requires cooking, so…”
“Color me impressed.” I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought to make this a little more romantic himself.
“You want to work on getting that wine open while I start slicing? Corkscrew’s in the side pocket of the cooler.”
I did as he asked, pouring us each a glass of chilled Lambrusco. “Bubbly. It feels like a celebration.”
“Sort of is. It’s our one-week anniversary.”
Not entirely sure how to take that, I sipped at the wine. “So it is. Nothing has imploded, and no one has come after us to shout ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’”
He picked up his glass. “Cheers to that.”
We clinked glasses and drank.
“Dig in. There’s plenty more where this came from.”
I piled salami and a slice of sharp cheddar on a cracker with some roasted red pepper and bit in, letting the salt of the meat and the sharp bite of the cheddar meld on my tongue. “Mmm. This definitely beats the last hurricane party I attended.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sawyer popped an olive into his mouth and chewed. “What happened at that one?”
I snagged a square of what I thought was gouda to go with a piece of apple. “I was riding things out with Bree and Ed at his place. A bunch of the Brewhouse staff were there, too. Somebody had the bright idea to do karaoke by phone, and it was so bad. Karaoke only works if the singers are good or everyone else is drunk. Bless her heart, Bree has a lot of fine qualities, but being able to stay on key is not one of them.”
Sawyer huffed a laugh. “She and Ford were well matched in that. He’s totally tone deaf.”
Because he’d brought them up, I indulged my curiosity. “Do you know what happened between them that last summer before y’all joined the Navy?”
He stacked pepperoni and cheese on a cracker. “I have my suspicions, but Ford’s never talked about it. Shuts down any time anybody brings her up. Why? Do you know?”
I hadn’t been the only one to succumb to those strawberry daiquiris, but my allegiance had to be to Bree here. “I know part of it, but it’s not mine to tell.” I picked up a slice of salami and fed it to a patiently waiting Roy, who’d taken up sentry on one corner of our picnic blanket to hoover up any forgotten leftovers. “Do you think they’ll ever make it to being friends again?”
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of hurt between them. Has to be, to destroy a friendship as long and deep as theirs. I’m not sure what it would take for them to bridge the gap.”
We ate and talked of less consequential things as the storm raged around us. When my glass was empty, Sawyer lifted the bottle. “More? It’s bubbly, so it won’t keep.”
“Sure. If you’ll help me polish it off.”
He split the remaining wine between our glasses and settled back across from me on the blanket, shoving the now empty board aside. The room was warm, but not yet uncomfortably so. The flicker of candlelight and the wine made it feel like a night for confessions and questions.
“What do you want to do with the rest of your life?” When Sawyer went brows up, I hurried to add, “I mean, babysitting me isn’t going to be a full-time job. Obviously, you’ll want to get back to doing something once I’ve stopped derailing your life. What might that be?”
He swirled the wine in his glass and took a long sip. “I don’t have any idea what I want. The only real constant in my life has been the sea. All those years fishing. Not that I want to go back to that—the Navy, I mean.” He dragged a finger around the lip of the glass. “I feel a little lost. I don’t know who I am since I was discharged. Now that I’m back on Hatterwick, it’s hard not to feel like the son of the town drunk from the wrong side of the island again. A lot of people still see me that way.”
Incensed, I set my mostly empty glass on the hearth and sat up fast enough that I startled Roy. He abandoned us for the dog bed in the corner. “I don’t. That’s not who you are. That’s never been who you are.”
His lips gave a wry quirk. “It’s nice that you think so. But surely you’ve heard the talk about us.”
There’d been talk? “The only talk I’ve heard has been a hundred percent supportive. Who said something to you?”
“Nobody’s said anything to me. But there are plenty of folks who think you’re slumming it marrying me.” He jerked a shoulder in easy acceptance. “They’re not entirely wrong.”
Furious, I curled my hands to fists. “Fuck them and the rude ass barn they were apparently raised in. They’re not right.” By God, if I did nothing else for this man while we were married, I’d help to banish this demon. “You know who I see when I look at you? Not only my personal hero, who literally brought me back to life. I see an incredible friend. A man who’s been willing to not only put his life entirely on hold for me, but inextricably tangled that life up with mine to save me when he didn’t have to. I see the guy who steadies me. Who comforts me after my nightmares and holds me to make sure they stay away.”
He watched me with unreadable eyes as I edged closer.
Emboldened by the wine, I kept going. “I see the guy I crushed on from the time I was thirteen. The guy I can’t stop thinking about kissing again.”
Sawyer’s throat worked, and those eyes had gone storm dark in the candlelight. “Willa.”
My name was all he said, and I couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. I knew what I wanted it to be.
My heart thundered in my chest, as much terror as anticipation. “Can I kiss you, Sawyer?”
“You can do anything you want.”
At that incredible, heady invitation, I leaned in and brushed my lips to his. He sighed, as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting just for this. It wasn’t for display. Wasn’t to prove anything to anyone. It was simply because we wanted. He wanted me, and that was my own personal miracle.
I traced his lips with my tongue, and he groaned, reaching out to drag me against his hard body. Our legs tangled, and I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to get closer. Our hips bumped and shifted, until the bulge in his shorts pressed to the softness between my thighs. I arched against him, wanting so much more. His hands snaked around me, and he rolled so I straddled him.
I broke the kiss only long enough to whimper a little moan as he bucked against me. God, that felt good. Taking his mouth again, I began to rock. His hands skated beneath my shirt, up my back and around to palm my breast. I wanted more of that touch everywhere, with a lot fewer clothes. And he’d said anything I wanted… But in a minute. Because the tension coiling at my center was making it hard to think past chasing this high.
His fingers worked down the cup of my bra, and suddenly I felt that delicious, callused touch against my nipple. He gave the slightest pinch and roll, and I detonated, shuddering against him as if I’d been hit by a live wire.
When I managed to pry my eyes open again, I looked down into his. They’d gone all but black with an unmistakable hunger as he gazed up at me. I wanted everything those eyes promised.
Intent, I leaned down to kiss him again, and something crashed.
We both froze.
“What was that?” I gasped.
“Something hit the house, I think.”
We held there, listening for another few minutes.
When I would’ve picked right back up where we’d left off, Sawyer stroked the hair back from my face in that way he did, and I knew the spell had been broken. Again.
“We should probably stop there.”
I wanted to howl in protest, but even in my current state, I could recognize that the last thing we needed was to be bare-assed naked and lost in each other if the roof somehow got ripped off the house.
Still tingling, I slid off him.
“Do you think you can sleep?”
Was he kidding? My body still hummed from his touch, wanting more of it. And now I was wondering if he thought this was some kind of mistake. Sleep was the last thing on my mind. “I don’t know.”
He tucked me back against him. “Why don’t you give it a try? It’s probably going to be a long night.”
Okay, he wouldn’t cuddle after if he thought it was a mistake. Right?
My gaze slid lower to the tent in his shorts. “What about you?”
“It’ll go away, eventually. I have lots of practice when it comes to you.”
I let his words sink in, my brain wrapping around them. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Not a mistake, then. Turning my delighted grin into his shoulder, I relaxed against him, laying a hand over his heart. The hammer beat of it belied his exterior calm. His fingers curled around mine, and he brushed a kiss to my brow.
“Goodnight, Wren.”