Chapter 26

Sawyer

Two days before Jonah’s ninth birthday, I realize I’ve screwed up.

Jonah invited Madden and eight other boys to go bowling at the local alley, then back to the house afterward. Jonah’s grandparents will be there, serving pizza and lighting candles on an ice-cream cake. We’ll open presents and maybe let the boys run around in the backyard.

It was my idea, and Jonah loved it. He danced around the living room, he was so excited, and as the party gets closer, he’s bubbling with anticipation. I’ve been feeling like a superstar—except I just realized that I’ve invited nine boys to come back to my house after bowling, and I have no way to transport them all. The grandparents are doing party setup and pizza and cake acquisition, and anyway, one set drives a Mini and the other a Fiat. Short of asking all their parents to come back out halfway through the party to drive them, I’m stuck.

When I realize my mistake, I’m frustrated and angry at myself, but mostly?

I’m sad.

Because Lucy wouldn’t have screwed this up. She would have been all over the logistics from minute one. She’d have lists and notes, and she’d buzz from room to room, asking Jonah’s opinion about things and picking up the phone and dashing off emails until everything was ironclad. She’d organize all the other moms into a driving machine—

Other moms.

Right.

I’m still not good at the inter-mom-schmooze-fest, and I suck at things like setting up carpools, but there’s one mom who I know will come to my rescue. And who I won’t feel weird about asking.

I grab my phone and dash off a text to Elle.

Hey. Are you there? Can I come ask you something?

The three dots appear. How much human productivity do you think has already been lost to watching those three dots wiggle, waiting for an answer?

A minute later, her answer pops up.

I’m here but have a phone interview in twenty minutes so if this is a booty call—

My mind had been elsewhere, but as soon as she says booty call, it starts wandering a different path, taking some key portions of my anatomy with it. I almost text back to reassure her I can make both of us very happy in twenty minutes—but I have a real problem to solve here. I squelch the fantasy, give my dick a stern talking-to, and jog over to her house, my hard-on subsiding just in time for my arrival. She opens the door before I can knock, stepping out onto the front stoop and shutting the door behind her.

“Are you worried that if you let me into the house you won’t be able to keep me out of the bedroom?” I tease, my best intentions vanishing instantly upon seeing her. She’s wearing skinny jeans, knee-high boots, and a tight black T-shirt. I have an immediate vision of peeling her—because that’s what it would take—out of her clothing.

“I’m serious, Sawyer—keep it clean.”

“You’re the one whose mind obviously went to the worst, dirtiest place the second you saw my text.”

She presses her lips together to hide a smile, then—unintentionally, I think—licks them.

Aaaand I’m hard again.

Concentrate, Paulson.

“This is a big ask, but is there any way you’d be willing to play chauffeur for the party on Saturday? I just realized I screwed up and I have no way to get the boys back here after bowling. If I’d thought it through, I could have done the whole party package, but I was being cheap and I didn’t want all the grandparents to have to schlep out there.”

She smiles. “Not cheap. Sensible. Those party packages are insanely overpriced. And it’s nice of you to think about the grandparents. So you want me, what, to just show up with the van at the end of the bowling, and load up half of them?”

“I—guess so?” But now that she says it, it sounds kind of mercenary. “Why don’t you come bowling with us? I should have invited you to begin with. It would be great to have another adult, and Jonah likes you.”

Her expression tightens. And I hear my own words a second later.

Nice job, Paulson.

I take a deep breath. “It would be great—for me—to have you there.”

A smile teases around the corners of her mouth. She is so freaking pretty when she smiles. I reach out and touch her cheek, soft as satin.

She draws back, wagging a finger. “None of that.” She tilts her head. “Yes. I would be happy to do the driving, and I would be honored to be included in the birthday festivities.”

“And—no pressure—pizza and cake afterward. If you don’t mind two sets of grandparents.”

I think better of it as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Lucy’s parents will probably get emotional at some point, and I don’t want to subject Elle to that.

But it’s too late to retract the invitation now, and Elle seems like she can handle it. She’s pretty unflappable.

“I’m used to grandparents,” she says dryly. “They can’t be any more horrifying than Trevor’s parents.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” I wager.

She grimaces and shakes her head. “You got that right. Speaking of signs I should have heeded.”

“I guess I’ll get to meet them, or at least admire them from a distance, at Trevor’s wedding.”

“Lucky you,” she says, rolling her eyes and peeking at her watch.

“You have a few more minutes.” I raise one eyebrow and let my gaze drop down over her skin-hugging outfit.

She twists one hand in the other uneasily. “I like to be sitting in my chair, fingers on the keys, ready to dial, a few minutes before the actual appointed time of the interview. So I can, you know, clear my head.”

I can’t ignore a red flag waved in my face like that. Before she can react, I bend to kiss her, deep and thorough.

She moans into my mouth.

I let her go, and she takes an uneven step back against her front door. Her mouth is open, her lower lip is soft and wet, and her eyes are glazed with desire.

I want to do it again, but I’ll have to be satisfied with my work—for now.

“Now you really need to go clear your head.”

“I hate you,” she says, but she’s smiling all out, and what the hell, I grab her and kiss her once more for good measure before I trot back to my house.

I whistle as I walk.