CHAPTER 11
Sawyer
I twist my hands nervously in the front seat of the Beast as Garrison drives along back roads I’ve never been on. The air conditioner is on full blast but I still feel the prickles on my skin as sweat beads on my forehead. I rub my palms over my denim shorts but there’s not nearly enough material to get them good and dry. Leaning forward, I twist the vent to blow cold air directly on my face in an effort to cool down.
“Relax, Sawyer. Think of this as a trial run,” Garrison says, glancing over at me.
My arms held out to my side like a chicken with two broken wings, I know I look oh so ladylike but I don’t care. Granted, the odds of Dante Werner being my father are slim to none but I’m still nervous. My mind is flying in a thousand different directions and I don’t even know which thought to follow.
“What am I supposed to say? Hey, are you my dad? Did you sleep with my mom?” Sweat rolls down my neck and I open the glove compartment, looking for a napkin to try to dry off with.
“I wouldn’t recommend either of those questions. Maybe just ask him if he ever met your mom and go from there.”
“Right,” I agree, shaking my head vigorously and beginning to feel lightheaded. My breathing gets faster and I quickly bend over, putting my head between my legs. Suddenly, the car stops but I’m too afraid to look up. Instead, I feel Garrison’s hand on my back which doesn’t help any of the crazy things my body is doing to me.
“Look, Sawyer, if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to but look at yourself. If you’re this worked up over someone we know isn’t your dad, what are you going to be when we visit the other two?”
“Shut up,” I mumble, my head still down low and I’m staring at the floorboard. Quickly, I sit up and look over at Garrison which is a horrible idea as all the blood rushes from my head.
He reaches over, taking my face in both his hands. “I’m going to be right there with you so you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
His eyes stare into mine and I search his, trying to distract myself from the idea of my father, but I find myself getting lost in his gentle eyes. Wondering about his past relationships, what kind of boyfriend he might be, can he find a woman’s g-spot, exactly how kissable those lips of his are…
“You ready?” he asks, pretending to not notice my intense stare at his plump lips.
Turning my head, he’s forced to drop his hands and I see that we’re sitting in the driveway to a small house in the middle of nowhere. The house is rickety looking with white siding that’s covered in mildew and dirt. Behind the house is a barn that it is more than twice the size of the family dwelling. I squint my eyes, reading the writing on the mailbox, D. erne. Guess time has worn more things off at this residence than meets the eye.
“Fine,” I mumble, opening the door and wanting to vomit the second I do. A strong gust of wind blows the stench of animal feces directly into my face and I reach for the door, trying to close it in hopes of blocking out the smell.
Garrison laughs as he opens his door, letting the funk right back inside. “Dante Werner is a pig farmer.”
I close my eyes, forcing back tears and wishing I would’ve just let my mother take the secret of who my sperm donor was with her to the grave. No, instead I had to pull a typical Sawyer move and push my nose, literally, where it doesn’t belong. My door swings open and the smell washes over me even stronger. Opening my eyes, I see Garrison’s handsome smile which helps to distract from the pig pooh permeating through the air.
Holding out his hand, he nods behind him. “Let’s do this.”
I stare down at his hand then look up into his eyes as I nod and take his hand. Garrison waits for me to hop out of the Beast then closes the door. I squeeze his hand as we bypass the small house and walk straight into the awful odor. Garrison looks over his shoulder at me and gives a small smile. My stomach gets weak, not from the small, but because I have this man beside me as I walk into the craziest journey of my life. I never thought three men in a small town like Memphis, Missouri, would be more intimidating that the streets of New York on my own.
Garrison
Sawyer’s hand fits perfectly in mine, like a puzzle. If we were a puzzle, I’d want to be the corner piece while Sawyer would be the inside one so I could surround her and protect her from all sides. It’s why I’m walking us toward the shittiest smelling place I’ve ever been around. I’m not about to set her on this pilgrimage to find her father alone. One, I don’t like the idea of her being around men she doesn’t like and two, I want to see her in a complete state of euphoria when she finally meets her father. I just met her, so it’s ironic that I’m protecting her from men she doesn’t know, men like me, but even more ironic that more than anything, I want to experience pure happiness with her. I don’t know Sawyer Kingham any better than her father, whoever he may be, but I already know there’s no one in the world I want to see happier than her.
A blotch of denim moves inside one of the fences along with five huge hogs. I think to myself how much each one of them weighs and I find myself suddenly craving bacon. I study the denim wearer, Dante Werner. He’s definitely the right age to be Sawyer’s father but he doesn’t have the same build. He’s a short, stocky man while Sawyer is tall and thin, a perfect dancer’s body. It’s hard to tell what color the little hair he has under his ball cap is so there’s no way to compare to Sawyer’s dark locks. As I’m walking toward the pigsty, I stop abruptly when Sawyer stops moving and jerks my hand back toward her.
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I can’t do this—”
“Hey there, something I can help ‘ya with?” Dante asks, pushing his ball cap to the top of his forehead as he looks in our direction.
I look at Sawyer, waiting for some kind of inclination that we’re going to move forward with our plan, but all I get is a death grip on my hand and a blank stare across her face. Sighing, I turn toward the man and nod.
“Yeah, we think you might’ve known my…” I glance back at Sawyer, flustered that I put myself in a situation to title us. Looking back at the man, I shake my head. “My friend’s mom who recently passed away.”
He cocks his eyebrow as he walks toward us. “Who’s that?”
“Lana Kingham,” Sawyer says, finally speaking but not loosening her grip on my hand.
To be entirely honest, I don’t want her to let go. I want her to share all her nervous energy with me, I want to protect her from what might be bad, I want to show her all the good. I want to be Sawyer’s rock which is what I intend to do the entire time I’m with her.
A grin spreads across Dante’s face and my stomach sinks. Shit, I swore to Sawyer that there was no way in hell that Dante was her father but his face is making me second guess. I look back to see Sawyer’s expression but it’s still blank as we both wait for his answer.
“‘Ole Lana, she was a piece of work.” Dante looks at Sawyer and his smile disappears. “I’m sorry for your loss, hun. I heard about the tragic accident.”
Sawyer steps around me, letting go of my hand and I already hate that I’ve lost her touch.
“How did you know her?” Sawyer asks, not acknowledging his sentiment.
“I met her at the VFW one Christmas. I was hanging there with some Army buddies of mine when she came in with her father.”
“Did you sleep with her?” Sawyer demands, taking a step closer to him.
Dante’s face goes white with shock and I roll my eyes at Sawyer’s forwardness.
I move beside her, waving my hands as though I’m erasing Sawyer’s question. “Sorry. Sawyer was trying to ask if you dated her mother.”
Dante chuckles as he shakes his head. “I wish! A woman as gorgeous as Lana, I’d have be in heaven. Back then, I was a scrawny kid who’d joined the Army in an effort to get out of this town.” He waves his hand around him. “Obviously, that didn’t happen. Anyway, I remember Lana because no girl ever gave me any attention but a couple days after Christmas, I was at the VFW and she took the time to walk to every table and tell each military person in there ‘thank you for your service.’ It didn’t take too much of her time but it meant the world to me.”
I glance over at Sawyer, whose shoulders have dropped.
She starts to speak in a voice that’s a mix of giggles and tears. “She meant the world to me.”
I take Sawyer’s hand and squeeze it gently. Looking back at Dante, I nod. “Thank you for your time… and service.”