CHAPTER 4
Garrison
Sweat runs down my neck as I walk up Sawyer’s driveway. I forgot how humid Missouri can be, even in early summer. I pull my white t-shirt away from my skin, trying to let the small breeze blow through but it doesn’t help. Hopefully this giant Suburban has air conditioning or it’s going to be a long ride to Kirksville which is about an hour away.
Walking up the front porch stairs, I can hear Ed Sheeran’s song Don’t playing loudly from inside the house. I knock on the door, knowing no one will be able to hear me over the volume of the music, but at least I can say I tried. Waiting a few seconds, I walk over to the front window and see Sawyer dancing along with the music. Her body twists and moves as though she’s dancing with an imaginary partner. Her long dark hair is gone from the day before, braided around her head and pinned up with what I imagine takes a thousand bobby pins. Red capri-length leggings with ribbons that wrap around her calves like ballet slippers cling to her body while a she wears a plain black crop top exposing her taut tummy on top.
My body begins to react to what I’m seeing and I adjust myself accordingly before pushing open the door and letting myself in. I shake my head, disappointed in myself for responding the way I am. I have strong self-control and I am a disciplined man, both from my upbringing and my current job. No woman should have the kind of effect on me that Sawyer Kingham just did by simply watching her dance. Continuing to degrade myself in my mind, I only realize that I’ve walked straight through Sawyer’s dance space when her body crashes into mine. Holding her against my body so she doesn’t fall, far too closely, I extend my arms to put some space between us but it’s too late, I can feel myself stirring underneath my jeans.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sawyer yells at me and gives me a sturdy shove although I don’t budge since I’m twice her size.
“I knocked,” I shout over the music and point to her phone that’s plugged into a docking station.
Sawyer stomps over to it, turning it off abruptly. “You told me to pick you up in an hour.” She looks at her phone. “I have ten minutes.”
I scoff at her objection, knowing she was never going to be on time. “I thought you were busy, had important things to do.”
She crosses her arms, her face turning red. “I… I do…”
“Like dancing?” I raise an eyebrow, loving that I’m making her squirm.
Her hands move to her hips and she puffs out her chest confidently, not doing anything to help my body’s reaction to her. “Actually, yes. I’m a dancer.”
I narrow my eyes. “A dancer? I thought dancers were on the pom pon squad in high school… you’re out of high school, right?”
Sawyer shakes her head, bending over to get her phone and I stifle my moan that comes from the sight of her bending over in those tight pants. Dammit, my body is betraying myself right now and I really don’t have time for this.
“Small town, small mind. That’s why I left this place.” She stands up and juts her hip, throwing in some attitude to get her point across.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Sorry, I obviously offended you but I’m not familiar with what a professional dancer does other than…”
“Ugh,” she mutters, walking around me.
I grab her wrist as she does, not letting her go anywhere. “What happened to your head?” I reach out and touch the small goose egg on her forehead.
Sawyer winces slightly and pulls away, trying to push my hand away as well. “I got tangled up in the sheets and fell out of bed.”
I quirk an eyebrow, curious who she got tangled up in bed with.
Sawyer pulls her wrist away and shakes her head, letting out an exasperated exhale. She walks off toward the kitchen, calling after me. “Whatever, think what you want. I’m fine.”
I sigh, remembering that I promised Cuzzo I’d be nice and here I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth twice already. Come on, Garrison, you can do this. Women have never been my strong point. Well, once upon a time they were until I realized they cause more harm than good. I need to get my shit together or I’ll seriously be without a ride which will make for a long three weeks in No Man’s Land.
Sawyer
Digging through my suitcase that’s still sitting in the middle of the kitchen, I shake my head, appalled that I ever thought that man in the other room was remotely attractive. In the five minutes that we’ve been in the same area, he’s already insulted me twice. Then again, I usually fall for assholes so why is this any different. Maybe that’s why my mom didn’t tell my dad about me, maybe it’s hereditary that we fall for guys that suck.
“Look, Sawyer, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I look up and see Garrison leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. His shoulders are tight under his damp white t-shirt, which I should be grossed out by but it’s actually kind of a turn on. He’s looking at the ground where his black combat boots are planted firmly on the kitchen floor. Obviously, he’s uncomfortable with his apology although he seems sincere in his words. My insides go gooey and I hate myself for always liking the bad guy.
“Yeah, whatever, it’s fine,” I mumble nonchalantly and shrug my shoulders. I’m still digging for a shirt as I feel half-naked in this crop top since he’s wearing jeans and I feel like I’m in next to nothing. I refuse to turn on the air conditioner though as that’ll only rack up more bills of my mother’s that I’m required to pay along with Garrison’s new bike.
“No, it’s not. I’m an ass. I blame it on my work so please accept my apology.”
I look over and Garrison is staring straight into my soul. Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme but that’s what it feels like. His dark eyes look directly into mine, piercing them and as if I wasn’t already mushy inside already, his gaze makes me weak in the knees. He’s holding his hand out in a peace offering and I’m afraid if I touch him, I might fall to the ground.
I’m still searching for a shirt and in an effort to avoid his hand, I yank out the first piece of material I touch. I hold it up in the air victoriously only to want to be sucked into the middle of the Earth as soon as I realize it’s a pair of underwear. Hoping he doesn’t recognize what they are, I shove them back in the suitcase and stand up.
“What do you do, for work?” I ask, burying the lingerie in the bottom of the bag.
He shrugs. “Work with a bunch of guys so none of us have any sort of manners. We just blurt out what we’re thinking.”
I roll my wrist, trying to urge him along. “Okay, I got that, but what is it that you do?” Geez, it’s like pulling teeth with this guy.
“Military.”
I raise my eyebrows, waiting for more information.
Garrison sighs. “I’m a fighter pilot for the Navy.”
“See.” I smile. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
He rolls his eyes, not amused by my comment.
“Wait. Memphis, Missouri is in the middle of the U.S. There’s no water around. What’s a Navy guy doing here?”
“I’m on leave for a few weeks and came to stay with my grandfather. I didn’t grow up here but I always come here when I’m not on duty.”
I nod. “Okay, good. I was worried something bad was going down.”
Garrison shakes his head and chuckles. “Yes, something bad is going down and the United States Navy sent me to Memphis, Missouri to inform you.”
I narrow my eyes, moving both my hands to my hips. “You’re right. You’re an ass.”
Garrison laughs louder as I walk past him and he calls after me. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Sawyer.”
Why is his cackling making the butterflies riot in my stomach? Thanks, Mom, for passing on the hereditary love for bad boys gene.