24. Sawyer #2
Raven is on the bed, hugging Jonah from behind as he thrashes in her arms. Tears stream down her face as he bucks against her. I have no clue how long she’s been at this, but it’s clear she’s exhausted. I climb onto the bed behind her and wrap my arms around them both.
No one says anything as they rock in my arms. Slowly, Jonah calms, and the tension eases in Raven’s body as she leans her head against my shoulder.
McKenna walks into the room, and her face lights up as soon as she sees me. “Is he okay?” She hesitates near the door, and I motion her over.
“Yeah, he’s better now. But I could use a hug,” I say.
She climbs onto the bed, standing behind me and wraps her arms around my neck. “Better?”
“Better.”
Once the kids are settled, I sneak downstairs and head into the kitchen to do the dishes. This old house doesn’t have a dishwasher, and I know Raven hates washing them by hand. I make a mental note to add that to my list of projects.
“You’ve been washing that same dish for the past five minutes,” Raven says, her voice cutting through the silence.
I startle, dropping the plate into the soapy water. “Shit. I thought you were a ghost. I really need to get my sheet together.”
“Ha ha.” She walks over, placing an arm on my back. “It’s okay. I’ve got this,” she says.
“No, I told you I’d do this for you, and I should do it.”
She shoots me an icy glare. “You were called out on a five-alarm call at a construction site.”
“How did you know that?”
“My brother.” She places her hands on my shoulders and guides me to the couch. “Sit.”
“This feels like a trap.”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m lazy or that I’m getting too comfortable.”
She scoffs like I’ve offended her, and I wince.
“I would never think that. You’re the chief of a fire department in an area prone to wildfires.
You work way too many hours, and what little free time you have, you’re either with your kids or over here.
It might do you some good to be lazy, because you’ve got a much bigger problem. ”
There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. It’s faint, but it’s there, and I wait for her to sink her claws into me.
“You’re old.” She pats my head as she saunters into the kitchen, and I stare behind her in wonder.
What did I do to deserve a woman like this?
I spent my entire marriage trying to prove myself to a woman who never really saw me, and here comes Raven, accepting every part of me like it’s not the burden I’ve been made to feel it is.
——————
“I made something for you,” I say, tugging Raven’s hand as she fights me. She’s done this several nights this week, and I was thankful for the distraction as it gave me time to finish her surprise.
“Sawyer, I need to finish this.”
“For the past forty-five minutes, you’ve been staring at your computer like it offended you.”
“That’s just my face.”
“No, that’s the face you make when you’re stuck.”
She leans back in her chair, and her robe peeks open. It’s an effort not to point it out or ask her for a cracker.
“Ugh. You’re right.”
“Was that so hard?”
Her blue eyes flash to mine. “Yes.”
“You need a change of scenery, and I have the perfect thing.”
“If you think it’ll help,” she mutters as she follows me upstairs.
“I know you’ve been busy the past few weeks trying to get your book done. So busy, you didn’t notice what I built for you.” I pause outside the door to the guest bedroom.
“If this is another red room joke—”
Well, shit. Maybe she’s going to hate this.
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “For fuck’s sake, Sawyer, please tell me you didn’t make a red room in the house I live in with my kids.”
I open the door and take a step back, motioning for her to enter.
She peeks in, cautious at first, then I see the moment she realizes what I’ve done. “Sawyer, this is incredible.”
A dopey grin lights up my face as I watch her take in the space. I did this. I made her look like that.
What was once a cluttered guestroom with walls lined with dated wallpaper has been transformed into a writer’s dream. I spent many nights scouring Pinterest trying to design the perfect space for Raven to write.
Floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves take up the right side of the room, with a simple desk placed in front of them. An oversized chair sits in the corner with a lamp beside it. The walls are painted a deep purple, and heavy curtains cover the window.
“Is this a standing desk? I’ve always wanted one of these.”
“It is. And there’s a lock on the door so no one can come in and interrupt you while you’re writing.”
Her head swivels as her eyes bounce around inspecting each item. She smooths a delicate finger on the wall. “Purple?”
“McKenna picked out the color. She wanted purple, and when I saw the sample was called Eggplant, I knew it was the perfect color for your writing room. You can write about eggplants in an eggplant-colored room.”
She tugs on her bottom lip like she’s trying not to laugh. “So the dad jokes are going to continue?”
“I’ll stop when you’re fully groan.” She blinks at me several times. “Get it? Fully grown like grow, but it’s groan like an annoying laugh.”
“Oh, I got it. It just wasn’t funny.” Her focus shifts around the room like she’s trying to figure out something, and I know it’s not my bad joke. “Is this room smaller? It feels smaller. Maybe it’s just the furniture?”
“It’s smaller. Don’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad? This is incredible.”
I walk over to the shelf with the hidden book lever and pull it. The shelf swings open, revealing a narrow space behind it. “I might have added a secret red room hidden in your bookshelf.”
Her head whips to mine. “You what?” She rushes over, peeking inside.
The hidden room is barely six feet wide and runs the entire length of the wall. “It has a pegboard to hang toys, a cross for bondage play, and there are several other hidden hooks and ties too.”
She runs her hands along the wall, pushing on the paneling. “Is it soundproof?”
I can’t help my grin. “Yup. There’s no room for a bed, but we could probably squeeze a small lounger in here if you want.”
“You built me an office with a secret sex room?”
“Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
I finally exhale, relieved that she likes my surprise.
“But I might fuck you like I am, so remember that later when you’re begging me for mercy.”
“Yes, madame.”