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My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked Series Book 1) by Jennifer Peel (15)

Chapter Fourteen

I sat outside of Sawyer’s dad’s house in my car waiting for Sawyer to show up. I was so embarrassed. Who had forgotten that she said she would bring a pasta salad? That would be me. So now I was late and bringing store-bought pasta salad. Sawyer was late too, which, on top of being embarrassed, had me worried. He was never late, and he wasn’t answering my texts or calls, which had never happened before either. I was hoping he’d run long with a patient and that’s all it was. I knew he wasn’t thrilled about coming back to his old home, but surely he wouldn’t just not show up or let me come by myself. Besides being worried that he was lying dead somewhere on the highway, I thought maybe his mom had gotten ahold of him and tried to convince him how awful I was. I wouldn’t put it past her. Because of her, my sisters were turning their backs on me.

I’d cried forever last night at Mom’s grave after talking to Frankie, who was on the brink of quitting. Josephine had decided to hire a catering company out of Edenvale to take care of the food for the black-tie affair in the barn instead of Frankie. She’d obviously never had one of those raspberry lemon filled cupcakes of Frankie’s. It was a shame. Maybe if she ate some sugar, she’d be nicer. Doubt it. Frankie mentioned that Josephine had been prancing around the Ranch calling herself the Lady of Carrington—not just of the Ranch, all of Carrington.

I stared out the window of my car and it hit me how the house Sawyer grew up in was quite simple and in a very middle-of-the-middle-class neighborhood. The house was a one-story brick rambler. It was cute with yellow shutters and a well-kept yard with peonies and pansies. It looked cheerful, the exact opposite of Josephine. It looked more like my mom. Looking at the house made me wonder how Josephine came off all high and mighty. She’d acted as if where she lived now was a downgrade. As far as I knew, she was living in an apartment before she met my dad. I had to say I found it odd that she hadn’t ended up with this house.

I picked up my phone to call Sawyer again. I was sure I had seen Bridget peek out the window. Before I could press his pretty face on speed dial, my phone rang. It wasn’t Sawyer, but the eye center number. I immediately answered.

“Hello.”

“Hey, sugar, it’s Shelby.”

Oh, good, my favorite peeing partner. I’d had to take her like four times our last day camping. For some reason she felt more comfortable if I was there.

“Hey, Shelby.” I tried to keep any derision out of my voice. After all, Sawyer said she wasn’t his type and he had seemed to rebuff her advances on Sunday by declining a walk with her into the woods. The same woods where Jenna and Brad had become one with nature. So maybe the goddess really hadn’t caught his eye. I know that didn’t help my chances, but it would be much easier to be friends with someone who wasn’t going to get my happily ever after.

“Sawyer gave me your number. He’s real sorry but we have had a day here and it’s still going on. We’re dealing with an infection, a foreign object or two, and some double vision. Sawyer wanted me to tell you that he will meet you as soon as he can for dinner, but it’s going to be awhile.”

“I hope his patients are okay.”

“Don’t you worry, sugar, we will get them fixed up good. Sawyer is one of the best.”

Did she say we? Okay, so maybe we weren’t going to be friends.

“I better go. Sawyer needs me to assist.”

I bet he did. I threw my phone in my bag. Now what did I do? Go tell his dad and Bridget we needed to cancel? Go in by myself? Move to Fiji? That was a serious consideration after last night. I read that in Fiji they like their women curvy. It’s like Hawaii. Why hadn’t I considered moving to these places before? I may even be considered too skinny there. It would be like a dream. I could eat pineapple and roasted pig all day long with no judgement.

I decided I better at least make an appearance since I had seen both Warren and Bridget peek out through the curtains. I grabbed my lame pasta salad. I was seriously bummed about it. I made the best pasta salad with roasted tomatoes and mozzarella cheese. What was available at the deli had limp noodles and smooshed olives. What a way to make an impression. I depended on Sawyer to remind me of these things. I was surprised he hadn’t.

Oh. I stopped on the sidewalk. I felt a sharp jab in my heart. Maybe that’s what Sawyer wanted to talk to me about. He was tired of us palling around. That’s probably what last weekend was about. Our final hurrah. He was probably thinking that he had carried me through this past year, but now it was time for him to spend some time looking for a girlfriend or wife. He had been awfully distant this week. Maybe he had been trying to pawn me off on his mom. I shuddered at the thought.

On that depressing note, I headed for the door. A small smile appeared when I noticed a huge red, white, and blue wreath with a sparkly silver bow on the door. I could hear mom say, “These are my kind of people.” I had a feeling they were my kind of people too, even if it made me feel disloyal to one of my best friends.

I didn’t even have to knock. Bridget and Warren opened the door with big, welcoming smiles.

“We’re so happy you could make it,” Bridget waved me in.

“I’m sorry Sawyer isn’t here yet. There were some emergencies at the eye center. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

Relief flooded Warren’s face. Poor guy.

I held up the plastic container. “And I’m sorry I forgot to make pasta salad and you have to deal with store bought. You should know I am chronically forgetful unless it involves dessert. I always seem to remember to make those.”

They both laughed at me.

“My kind of woman.” Bridget took the container from me. “This is great. Thank you.”

“Well, come on back,” Warren warmly invited me. “I was just getting ready to throw the steaks on the grill. I wanted them to be fresh. We can grab some beers or soda and chat on the porch.”

“Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Warren responded.

I already loved these people. “Lead the way, then.”

We walked through the cozy home that was minimally decorated, unless you counted the many pictures of his sons on the wall. I had to stop and stare at a few in the family room before we headed through the patio doors. I touched one of a toothless baby Sawyer. He was freaking adorable. He had chubby thighs like me back then too. He had such curly hair as a toddler. I recognized the teenage boy in his football uniform. My heart skipped a few beats.

“He was such a handsome boy,” Bridget commented while handing me a Dr. Pepper.

“Uh-huh.”

“Still is.” She gave me a sly smile.

“For some, I suppose.” I grinned.

Warren chuckled while opening the sliding glass door.

While I followed them out, thoughts in the back of my mind kept nagging at me, like why did Warren have all these pictures of his sons and his ex-wife didn’t? I had never seen one from Josephine. My thoughts were interrupted by the paradise that awaited me in the backyard. It was landscaped to the hilt, with retaining walls, flower beds, several fruit trees, and a lush lawn that begged to be run across barefoot. A hot tub filled the corner of the large deck with a built-in grill. I could easily picture Sawyer out here playing catch with his dad. A thought that made me both happy and sad.

“It’s beautiful back here.”

Warren looked out over his yard and sighed with a sad smile. “A lot of good memories happened here.” He pointed to the grove of fruit trees. “Every year, Sawyer and I would plant a new tree, and he helped me build this deck.”

That was sweet. “What about Ashton?”

Warren shrugged. “Ashton has always been most interested in what Ashton wants.”

Huh. “But you still have a relationship with him, right?”

Warren gave Bridget a look that said he wasn’t sure what he should say. He took a moment to say anything while he threw some steaks on the grill. Once the steaks were on, he joined us at the patio table. He took Bridget’s hand. It wasn’t hard to see that such love existed between them.

Warren smiled at me to put me at ease. “I love both my sons with all my heart, but Ashton . . .” he cleared his throat, “is more like his . . . mother,” he hesitated to say. “Relationships are all about what’s in it for them. Ashton mostly calls me when he needs my help. And Sawyer never calls me now, so there’s that.”

The information about Ashton surprised me. He was a fun-loving guy, but now more than ever I was glad Ashton said he wasn’t interested in Macey. Was this why he was divorced? Things to ponder on later. “I’m sorry,” I responded to Warren.

He squeezed Bridget’s hand. “It’s my own fault. I should have handled things differently.”

“Me too,” Bridget whispered.

“Is my son happy?” Warren begged to know.

I nodded. “I think so. He loves his job. He’s saving money to start his own practice so he kind of lives in a dive right now and he drives a beat-up old truck—”

“Old blue?”

“Yeah.”

Warren smiled. “That was my dad’s old truck. I gave it to Sawyer when he graduated from high school.”

“It’s seen better days, but Sawyer seems to be fond of it.”

A hopeful smiled engulfed Warren’s face. He reached across and patted my hand. “I’m glad he has good friends.”

I inadvertently winced at the title.

Warren and Bridget laughed.

Warren gave me a pointed look. “You don’t like the word.”

I tucked some hair behind my ear. “I like it just fine.”

Warren stood up to check on the steaks. “You can’t kid a kidder.”

There was no kidding. I knew where Sawyer and I stood.

Sawyer didn’t show up in time for dinner, so we ate without him. Man, could Warren make a good steak. And Bridget was my new culinary hero. Forget Duncan Hines, Betty Crocker, and did I dare say it—Frankie? Bridget made this triple layer chocolate cake that made me want to kiss her. Even better, she was willing to give me the recipe. I loved her. I also loved how welcome they made me feel, how interested they were in my job and me as a person. They even offered to come to one of my girls’ soccer games if it was all right with Sawyer. My own dad hadn’t even come to one this season. When mom was alive, they never missed one.

After I helped clean up and Sawyer still hadn’t shown up, Warren went out to clean his grill. Bridget informed me he was meticulous about it after each use. It also allowed me to have some time alone with Bridget. Maybe Warren sensed I wanted some. There were things I wanted to ask her that I didn’t feel comfortable asking Warren. But they were things I needed to know about the woman who was married to my dad, and even about Ashton since he worked for Dad.

Bridget and I sat on the family room couch, which was not mohair. It was a comfortable leather couch like I had. Both of our Dr. Peppers fizzed in their ice-filled glasses on the coffee table. Warren had a pebble ice maker. These people were like my soul. Bridget rested her arm on the back of the couch with her head in her hand. I noticed those dirty fingernails again. They were from helping Warren weed his vegetable and flower gardens.

“You can ask me anything.” She read my mind.

“I don’t want to seem nosy.”

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be informed.”

“Well, in that case,” I smiled, “I want to know the why of it all.”

“I’m not sure any of us can answer that, but I can tell you some contributing factors. Mind you, there are two sides to every story.”

I nodded. That was good of her to say, especially because I desperately wanted Josephine to be the bad guy in any story she had to tell. But she had to have some redeeming qualities for Sawyer to love her so much. I couldn’t see any of them, but they had to be there. Deep down. Maybe?

“When I first moved in next door to take care of my father, I didn’t even realize Warren was married. I frequently saw Warren with Sawyer in the backyard or doing yard work in the front. It wasn’t until Sawyer started cutting our lawn and he mentioned his mom that I knew there was a mother here. By that time, Ashton was out of high school. He flitted in and out, and between colleges and jobs, sometimes he lived at home, but mostly not. The first time I saw Josephine was late one night when my father and I had returned from an emergency room visit. She looked like she was sneaking into her own home.”

My eyebrows raised. “Was that a common occurrence?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“Do you know what she was doing?”

She paused and thought. “Warren had suspicions.”

I so badly wanted to ask what those were, but I refrained. She obviously didn’t want to say, and I could guess.

She let out a heavy breath. “I can tell you that Josephine was never satisfied with the life she lived here. Warren never made enough money, he wasn’t as ambitious as she thought he should be. She got them in a lot of debt opening credit cards and maxing them out under Warren’s name. He was close to declaring bankruptcy after the divorce, but thanks to Colorado’s economic boom, his business benefited and he managed to eke by. He almost has it all paid off now, including all the student loans he took out to help Sawyer through school.”

My head tilted. “Does Sawyer know that?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. Warren never wanted him to know he didn’t have the money saved. He did what he had to do for him. He was so proud of Sawyer; he wanted to make sure all his dreams came true.”

I was so confused and a bit alarmed about all this info. “So, did Sawyer know that his parents were having problems? And how was Sawyer’s relationship with his mom back then? They seem close now.”

“I believe Warren did his best to hide any conflict from Sawyer. He wanted his boys to grow up in a stable environment. As far as Sawyer’s and Josephine’s relationship, I believe Josephine fawned over him. He was a superstar growing up, and she took great pride in that.”

“That makes sense. She still acts like that, but she wishes he showed off his success.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Thank you, Bridget. I promise to keep what you said confidential.”

“I’m not worried about it.” She gave me a wicked grin. “I know how you feel about Sawyer.”

I went to deny it, but something about her made me stop. I let out a huge breath. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re having dinner with his estranged father without him. I would say that’s pretty obvious.”

“I guess so.” I tucked my feet under me. “It doesn’t matter though; he doesn’t feel the same way and we have some very odd connections that would make it awkward.”

She reached out and rested her warm hand on my knee. “I don’t think there would be anything awkward about it.”

I shrugged. “Regardless—”

“You’re fooling yourself if you don’t think he has feelings for you.”

I shook my head, not able to believe it. “You know, my mom set us up right before she died. We had the best phone calls ever.” My eyes began to tear up. “He even asked me out, but then my mom died and when he came to the funeral and we met face-to-face, he never asked me out again.”

She squeezed my knee, looking stumped. “Did you ever ask him why?”

“Now that would be really awkward, but I don’t have to ask, I know why. Look at me. I’m not exactly cover girl material. I’m the friend. The girl you down a pizza and pitcher of beer with while yelling loudly at the TV when your favorite team is acting like a bunch of idiots. I’ve been that way my entire life. Unless you count the polygamist who was more than willing to take me on as his fourth wife.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Emma, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“Take it from a woman who was never a size four, heck, not even a size six or eight—don’t let the size you wear devalue you. I did that for far too long. You know what that led to?”

I shook my head.

“A lot of bad relationships because I thought someone else would make me feel good about myself.”

“I do like myself.” So I worried about my weight from time to time. Who didn’t?

“I know you do; I can see it in your eyes. In the way you carry yourself. I hope that never changes. And I hope you don’t sell Sawyer short. You’re a beautiful woman inside and out.”

“Beautiful may be pushing it.”

“I think you should take a better look in the mirror and in Sawyer’s eyes.”

Believe me, I was well versed in those pretty babies and not once had they ever said, I want you, Emma.

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