Authors: Gina Watson
“Sorry, Court. Maybe he’ll settle down after he meets you.” Clara shrugged.
“That’s not usually how these things go.” Experience had taught her that when a guy wanted to meet her or go out on a date with her based solely on her last name, he was interested in money first, love second or not at all.
With its light gray exterior, white trim, and black door the Olivier home was quaint and stately. Inside, the neutral color pallet and soothing lighting made the home very inviting. What wasn’t inviting however was the open floor plan that allowed Courtney to see straight into the living room and into the heated dark eyes of Tyler.
He smirked at her.
Smirked.
She inwardly sighed as his eyes roved her from top of head to tip of toe, and back again. She shot Clara a sideways glance.
“Sorry,” Clara mumbled.
They ambled forward; the guys did so as well until they were a group of four standing in the dining room.
“Courtney, so glad you could make it,” Jackson said. “Allow me to introduce my colleague in the E.R., Tyler Stevenson.”
Why not just introduce him as
Doctor
Stevenson? Courtney extended her hand, but instead of shaking it Tyler enclosed his two around her one. The warmth and clamminess her hand was currently experiencing from the doctor made a little chill run down her arm and she forced herself not to cringe.
“It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Puke.
She nodded. “Thank you.” Courtney tugged slightly at her hand, but he didn’t take the subtle hint. Ten seconds…she’d be giving him ten seconds and then she’d be yanking her hand back. While she waited she took in his attire. He’d worn pleated khakis.
Pleated khakis. Who still wore those
? With his lavender polo shirt he was the epitome of Joe College. His undershirt annoyed her because the cuff of the sleeves dropped below the Polo sleeve’s edge. If he needed an undershirt—all uppity types did—he should be in a tank if he couldn’t purchase the right size. No real man wore an undershirt. She’d bet money Sawyer didn’t
.
She slipped her clasped hand down and out of the reach of
Doctor
Stevenson.
“Please, won’t you sit?” Jackson pointed to the couch and she complied. “I’ll grab some wine glasses.” Clara followed behind her husband into the kitchen, leaving Courtney alone with Tyler.
He seemed nervous as she caught the sparkle of sweat on his brow. “So Tyler, tell me about medical school.”
“What do you want to know?” He smiled, looking relieved.
“Where did you attend?”
“Harvard.”
Courtney gave him a nod. “Impressive.”
“Pretty impressive all right—I’ve got a mountain of student loan debt to quantify just how impressive it is.”
Okay…what was she supposed to say to that
? “Well it’s got to be worth it though…helping people on a daily basis. Saving lives.”
His laugh was derisive and dry. “Yeah, that’s what one would think. What actually happens is you work a seventy-hour week, make peanuts, and are bled dry by malpractice premiums.”
Note to self…do not bring up work with Tyler.
“Jackson tells me you’re a realtor.”
“That’s right.” His eyes were intense and almost seared her to the couch so she turned away from him to face the fireplace. She smiled when she saw the framed wedding photos that decorated the mantle.
“How’s the market?”
“It’s slowly getting better.”
“You went to LSU, right?”
“I did. General business.”
“Must be nice to not have to depend on a job.”
That had her head snapping so that she could place her eyes on him. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Well let’s face it, you can’t be making too terribly much in this economy, but you don’t have to worry about money anyway.”
Courtney pressed her fingers into her brow where a headache was currently forming. It wasn’t worth the wasted breath to set Tyler straight. Plus, it would give him insight into her family that he just didn’t deserve.
“Headache?”
“Just a little one, but I sense it’s going to get worse.”
At her comment he sobered up quickly, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. His ready countenance had turned to stone. Good. Now she no longer needed to feign interest.
Jackson returned with the wine. He scanned both of them, picking up on the tension in the room. She stood. “I’m going to go help Clara in the kitchen.” She forced her feet not to run, but walk, from the room.
She set her glass on the bar and took a seat at the tall chair, huffing out the built up strain.
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, my God…Clara, he started talking about his mountain of debt and how he basically hated being a doctor. Then he asked me about the housing market only to mock my career and then he threw the family money in my face.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” Courtney put her elbows on the counter, her face in her hands, and then groaned. “I really thought I had some good karma coming my way given the horrendous events I endured earlier this week.”
She felt Clara’s delicate hands on her arms. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m here you know, if you need to talk.”
She pulled her face up to look into the sincerity of Clara’s. “I want to talk about Sawyer and how I can’t stop thinking about him—dreaming about him.”
Clara’s eyes hit her hairline. “Do tell!”
“The day I showed the house in Audubon I ended up running into the woods behind the house to get away from my intoxicated client. But then I got lost and became disoriented. I don’t know how long I was out there. More than five hours they think. He found me, Clara. He took me to the hospital and stayed with me. Then he took me to his house and cared for me in the sweetest, most gentle way I’ve ever known. I thought he might call or text now that he has my number.”
“He hasn’t?”
“No.”
“And that night we shared…he was different than he ever had been before. But by the next morning he was back to himself and I felt so much loss for the man I’d met the night before.”
“Different how?”
“Just different. Usually he’s hard and intense, but that night he was soft and pleasant, like he was glad I was there with him. There was a connection too. He admitted feeling it at least.”
“Really?” Clara’s smiling eyes hinted at excitement.
“Yeah, but he’d said his life isn’t his own. I don’t speak man, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to pursue things further and I’m afraid I was right.”
“His life isn’t his own?”
“I know. What the hell does that even mean?”
“What was the connection you felt?”
“I don’t know how to explain it to you.” She leaned into the back of the bar chair and locked her heels in the rungs. “I’ve had three really close relationships. The last one was with Travis, and we all know how that ended.”
“I hate that fucking bastard.”
“Oh, my God…Clara! I’ve never heard you talk like that.”
She immediately blushed. “It’s the wine…sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. I hate that fucking bastard too.” They laughed.
“You were saying.”
“Yes. I was saying that I felt something inside of me”—she pressed her fist into her chest—“it was something peaceful and content. Like I could live in that moment forever, staring into his face, and as long as he was near I’d be happy.” She slumped. “It sounds stupid.”
“No it doesn’t.” Her hand clasped Courtney’s wrist. “That’s the feeling I get when I’m alone with Jackson. I get it.”
“Sawyer woke me at five-thirty the next morning and was all anxious and weird. I wish I could have frozen time on our moment.”
“I have an idea.” Clara tipped her wine glass up to swallow the last sip.
“Love to hear it.”
“You have to take him to dinner to thank him or to extend your appreciation for what he did for you in your moment of need.”
“I don’t know if I can talk him into something like that. It’s almost a date.”
“Oh no, it’s definitely a date. That’s where the bulk of my idea comes into play. Tomorrow night a group has rented the cheese shop for a bachelorette party. Unbeknownst to me until about two hours ago is the fact that they’re bringing their own staff. Well, I’d already mentioned to Sawyer that there was extra work if he wanted it, so he’s prepared to show up in nice clothes to serve.”
Courtney frowned. “Hmm, I think he’ll be disappointed. I get the feeling he needs the work.”
“That’s the thing…I’m getting paid the same amount with or without him so I don’t need him with the extra staff. I was still planning on giving him the cash.”
“So what do I do…just show up and take him off your hands?”
She nodded. “Why not?”
Courtney folded her arms in thought. “I wouldn’t want to push him away. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would enjoy being coerced into a dinner date.”
“It’s not coercion. You really want to do something nice for him and I don’t need him for a job he was scheduled to. You know you can be quite charming.”
Clara’s chin was down and her eyes were angled up, giving her the appearance of a naughty pixie. Courtney rubbed her palm into her eye. Exhaling loudly she made her decision. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ll be charming and you’ll be accommodating.”
Clara squealed and walked around the counter to lay a bear hug on Courtney. “This is so exciting!”
“I hope it doesn’t backfire.”
Clara swatted her arm. “Oh, stop it. Be positive and the plan won’t dare fail.”
“I’m thinking nothing but positive thoughts. Positive and a little dirty.”
Clara giggled. “Hey, what are we going to do about Doctor Tons-of-no-fun?”
“I don’t think he’ll be talking to me ever again.”
The girls shared a high five and Clara filled their glasses with more wine.
Chapter 6
Dressing for her Saturday night plans proved more difficult than she’d originally thought. She pulled her favorite royal blue peplum dress from the closet and held it from the hanger in front of her.
Would she upstage Sawyer in this getup
? That wouldn’t do.
She hung the blue dress back in the closet and settled on an blue-green lace dress that hung mid-thigh and sported a banded waist, boat cut collar, and three-quarter inch sleeves. She paired it with gray two-inch heels and matching clutch.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she decided she’d leave her hair down and livened up her blond curls with a spray mousse. She used foundation to cover the redness across the side of her face, and then she applied light shadow and mascara to her eyes. To finish, she applied a pale-pink lipstick to her lips.
On the drive over her stomach was in knots. Her thoughts stewed at the negative end of the spectrum from Sawyer denying her outright in front of the bachelorette party, to him dismissing her without any words and piling into his truck to head home.
Was there not a thought in there somewhere that had a pleasant outcome?
She couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that this was a mistake—however large or small would be determined in a matter of minutes. She sighed and cranked up
Bitter Sweet Symphony
on her iPod, the intro sounding exactly that—bitter sweet—as it pulsed through the Accord’s speakers.
As usual she parked along the curb. However, unusual was the distance she placed between herself and the door. Not wanting to get too close for fear of being seen by him, she opted to park several hundred feet away from the shop even though there was parking available near the door.
Pulling the key from the ignition she thought…
now what?
What was she doing here at six o’clock on a Saturday evening?
She wouldn’t lie about showing a house. Maybe she was catching up on some paperwork. She did have a market analysis to complete. Hmm, she was a shit liar.
Deciding it would serve her well to actually complete the market analysis she used her master key to enter Greystone Realty. She turned on the first row of lights and ambled toward her desk in front of the large bank of windows that looked out across busy Main Street.
An hour later, and highly unfocused, all she’d managed to get done was a little online shopping. She finalized the purchase of a marked down Anthropologie jacket and skirt, and then turned off her computer. Taking five minutes to build her confidence, she turned off the lights and locked up. She walked toward the cheese shop with purpose. She’d invite Sawyer to dinner, he’d say yes or no, and then she could get on with her life.
Her hand reached out to grab the metal handle of the door, its residual warmth holding from the heat of the day. Inside was a bevy of women and chaos. Lewd penis-shaped frippery dotted every flat surface. In the center of it all was Clara sporting a penis top hat. “The game is pin the penis on the man. You must wear the satin blindfold, take a shot of tequila, and shout
I love cock!
before placing your pin. April, as our resident bachelorette, you’re up first.”
Behind the bar was an uncomfortable looking Sawyer with wide eyes.
“Oh, excuse me for a moment. Bridesmaid number one, you’re up.” Clara passed the blindfold to a petite woman who accepted it with unbridled joy, and then skipped toward Courtney.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Sawyer’s fading fast. I think once we brought out the penis-shaped cake, complete with balls, he turned a little green. He’ll be delighted to be dismissed for dinner.” She laced her arm in Courtney’s and escorted her behind the bar where Sawyer dried water glasses.
“Sawyer, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind getting out of here for a little while, hmm?” He turned to face them, eyeing her with intensity. His wiping action on the glass froze. His eyes darted from her to Clara.
“But I’m on the clock.” He looked nice in a dark washed pair of jeans and an ash-blue Henley shirt.
Clara swatted her hand at his shoulder. “Oh you’ll still be on the clock, but it’s about to get downright raunchy.” She cupped a hand to the edge of her mouth and said, “The male strippers are on their way.”
Sawyer groaned and Clara looked toward Courtney with a cocked brow and a nod.
Right! Here goes nothing
. “Um, I was wanting…well hoping you would accept my invitation to dinner as a token of my appreciation for coming so gallantly to my aid.”
“I told you…there’s no need to thank me. I should have gone with you in the first place.” He turned and placed the dry glass on the shelf above the bar.
“Still, I hate to eat alone and it will get you out of here for a few hours.”
“Yes, it’s perfect.” Clara chimed. “By the time you return the party should be ending. You can finish up then.”
“We’ve been getting complaints about the noise level in here.”
The trio turned toward the shouting emitting from the other side of the bar.
Two excessively groomed men dressed in police uniforms stood in the doorway. One took a baton from a loop on his pants and began slapping it in his palm. “I’m officer Miles Long—I’m going to need to search whoever’s in charge here.” Early millennial crunk,
Yeah!,
streamed from the speakers in the CD boom box one of the cops held.
In one swift motion two male strippers had their police uniforms off, exposing their bare buttocks’ in the thongs they wore. When they started to suggestively dance a steel hand wrapped around Courtney’s upper arm. “Get me out of here.”
She smiled at Sawyer, who was most definitely feeling out of his comfort zone.
Courtney leaned in to whisper into Clara’s ear, “I’ll have him back around nine-thirty.”
He followed her past several shops and finally to her car. They boarded and as she snapped her seatbelt she inhaled a silent, but deep, breath of air. Placing her hands on the steering wheel she looked across the space between them. “I hope you like French. I made reservations.”
He shrugged and without looking toward her said, “I’m sure it will be fine.”
Her bittersweet memories were not so distant as she started the car and was reminded she’d left the song on repeat—and the volume loud. She nervously reached for the button in the wheel to lower the sound. “Sorry.”
He was a pillar of stone in the passenger seat and she felt her upper lip moisten as sweat penetrated the barrier of her moisturizer. “I have your coffee mug.” She reached and pulled it from the cup holder, offering it to him. “Washed and good as new.”
He took it from her grip and set it right back in the cup holder. No words exchanged. Pulling from the curb, she cleared her throat. “How was the rest of your week?”
“Hectic.” At a red light she dared a glance in his direction. Focusing on his profile and the sharp cut of his freshly shaved jaw had desire pulling in her belly. He scrubbed his face with his hand. His hair was thick, shiny, and dark as it curled slightly as it met his neck. He turned toward her, his forehead puckered in tension, exposing a wrinkle. “It’s green.” A honk behind her had her shaking her head to clear the haze.
“How have you been?” He asked.
“I’ve been okay.” She put her foot down on the accelerator.
“Did you tell your brothers about the attack?”
“No.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“No.” She was stopped at another light.
“Don’t you think you should talk to someone?”
“The only person I want to talk about it with is you.”
Their gazes met—intensity and heat bloomed. Then he reached for her hand, taking it in his. “I’m sorry, Courtney. I should have called…would have called, but I was just so busy.” The anguish on his face told her he meant the words he spoke and her heart thundered. “Tell me how you’ve been feeling.”
When the light turned green she forced herself to focus on driving.
“Have you had thoughts about your ordeal?”
She swallowed. Thinking of Eric’s hold on her made her anxious. “I’ve thought about arriving there…at the house, and then about running into the woods.” She gasped when her breathing hitched.
“Pull over please.” The gentle caress of his thumb on her palm soothed her. If he were around she knew she’d be safe. She pulled the car into a metered slot and parked.
“You should have called me.”
“I know you’re busy and I didn’t want to disturb you at your jobs.” A lone tear escaped her eye despite her attempts at blinking it back. His lips kissed it away. She didn’t think the tears were because of the incident…no, she’d shed that tear in sheer relief that he actually did care for her, about her…just maybe. His thick, delicate lips on her skin sent chills coursing up her arms, her neck, and head. He pulled away, but only enough to bring their gazes into focus. They were close, and time and circumstance had stopped for them in this moment. His eyes lowered to her lips and he shifted ever so slightly toward her, drawn like a bug at night is drawn to a porch light. She sat frozen, wanting him to know that he’d met her lips for a kiss all on his own because his body desired her. She’d seen the signs—she knew he desired her, but his brain was making a ploy at denying what they’d felt.
His eyes closed, and then he closed the gap between them. When his lips met hers he held them there for a beat, moaning when he began to massage his softness into hers. The lone spark that had been present since she’d first set eyes on him grew into a raging forest fire. She’d never felt anything like it before. His hands cupped her jaw as his kiss deepened. Her hands sought him, ending up lacing through his thick hair, tugging and twisting as she sighed into his kiss.
She sensed his goodness. This man would never cheat on her. This man would never attack her. With him she felt warmed and tethered. Away from him her body was cold and floating in a black abandoned abyss.
He pulled away, leaving her head screaming
No!
and her fingers sinking deeper into the hold she had on his hair. Since he couldn’t move without ripping out hair, he settled just an inch before her. “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.”
“Please don’t be sorry.”
“I don’t think this is what you need after your ordeal.”
“You’re so wrong. It is exactly what I need.” She pulled him back to her lips. Their kiss quickly turned explicit when she sighed her breath over his open mouth and his tongue entered her, exploring and learning. His touch remained delicate and savoring, but deep and all consuming. His moans turned to lust-filled groans that ignited her sex and had her body shaking beneath his hands. Hands that were exploring her lower back, pulling her even closer toward him and the middle of the car’s console.
Damn, how she wished for a bench seat!
Her hands were doing a little exploring of their own as her breath mingled with his in their heated kiss. Sliding her palms from his head down to his shoulders gave her a shiver, for he was built like a mountain.
Mountains were for climbing.
Her wayward thoughts had her panting into his mouth. His biceps were warm and hard, making her wonder if other places on his body were as hard or harder.
They pulled apart as the heat in the car became unbearable. For the first time she noticed the fogged state of the windows. His eyes blazed with desire at her. It was too intense and she looked down, noticing his huge erection. Her eyes flashed before she managed to level out. He adjusted himself and when their eyes met again she noticed a slight blushing in his cheeks.
“Courtney, I’m so out of my comfort zone here. I’ve never felt so much desire for a woman before. It’s obvious what being near you does to me, but as I said before…I’ve got responsibilities that keep my life from being my own.”