Chapter 9
Sawyer
“You’re just hollerin’ down a well.”
~ Grant Turner
“You better get goin’,” Mrs. Higgins prompted as she stuck her head into my office. She added a firm, “You’re late.”
She was right. I was due at Delilah’s five minutes ago. Still, I found myself seated at my desk. I hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that I’d be spending a good portion of the next forty-eight hours alone with Delilah.
“Chop, chop.” She used the same phrase she’d used when she was a teacher as she wrapped her knuckles on my door before heading back up to the front.
It had been almost two weeks since the fundraiser. Two weeks since I’d danced with Delilah, held her in my arms, and driven her to my favorite spot. The spot that I’d never taken anyone to or told anyone about.
We’d been exchanging emails regarding the kitchen renovations that we were going to be working on this weekend, but I’d kept them as short and professional as possible. It had been easy to do since she had all of her materials ordered already and a game plan of what she wanted to accomplish day one and day two. With most clients I had to hold their hand through the design process, it was my least favorite part of the job. I should’ve known that Delilah wouldn’t be like that. She always exceeded expectations.
Email had been our only interaction in the twelve days since that night. I’d been able to put my keep my distance into place, but it hadn’t helped as much as I’d thought it would. I’d hoped that the distance would give me some clarity as to how to handle this situation. It hadn’t. I wasn’t any closer to figuring out how in the hell I was supposed to spend any amount of time with Delilah and not lose my mind much less get any work done.
Around her, I was beyond distracted and any common sense that I had flew right out the window. I think that was proven when I’d dragged her onto the dance floor after almost knocking Brady out and being tempted to do the same thing to my brother. I’d known Coop had only been doing what he was to piss me off and it’d worked. Then, I’d held her way too close, danced way too long, and would’ve gone way too far if her stomach hadn’t cut in. Not to mention, the turn I’d almost missed because Delilah was making soft sounds while she ate that my body interpreted as her enjoying pleasures of a sex-related nature. And after we’d parked, I’d turned music on a station that I knew played slow songs because, against my better judgment, I wanted the mood to be romantic. I wanted her to hear the things that were being sung about and think about me because apparently, I was a glutton for punishment.
“Sawyer! Don’t make me come back there again!” I heard a shout from the front of the office.
I stood knowing that if I didn’t, she would be back here and would use any means necessary to get me out the door. As I passed the front desk, Mrs. Higgins added another phrase that I’d been hearing since her teaching years. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to smile.”
So, I answered her with the same response I’d been using since my freshman year of high school. I turned, pushing the glass door with my back and shot her a comically forced smile that probably made me look more constipated than happy.
She had the same reaction she always had. Her head fell back as she laughed and said, “See? You’re still alive.”
I grinned as I walked to my truck. I was lucky to have a big family filled with people that I loved and that loved me. But those weren’t people that I’d chosen to have in my life or who chose for me to be in theirs. Mrs. Higgins and I had no blood relation but she was my family, and I was hers.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see a message from my brother Coop offering to give up his weekend to come help out with Delilah’s project and field any and all questions that she may have. He’d been extending that same offer for the past two weeks. I immediately sent back my answer that hadn’t changed since the first time he asked: no.
Even though I knew he was messing with me, just the thought of having a front row seat to him relentlessly flirting with her all day made my shoulders tense and my blood run hot. Before I’d even put my phone back in my pocket, it rang. I turned it over and saw it was Coop calling.
So I answered with the same response. “No.”
“Come on!” he pleaded. “Let’s be honest, talking is not your strong suit. I’ll answer all of her questions, and she’ll actually get her money’s worth having the handsome Briggs brother there.”
I hung up. It rang again. It was Coop. I sent him straight to voicemail. By the time I’d reached my truck he’d called twice more, so I put it on vibrate.
As I opened the door and got in, my phone buzzed. I saw it was Cooper, so I pushed the button that silenced the call but allowed it to continue ringing. I had seven little brothers, but Coop took the prize for being the most annoying. No contest.
He was eight years younger than me, and before he could even walk on his own, my mom called him my shadow. He’d follow me around in the baby walker. As a kid, he copied everything I did. He imitated my mannerisms and the way I dressed. He adopted my likes and dislikes on everything from food, music, movies, and video games. The only thing he didn’t mimic was the one thing I wished he would have, my communication style. If talking were an Olympic sport, he’d win the gold, silver, and bronze. No other competitor would even place.
I was just about to pull out of the parking lot when the Bluetooth connected to my truck told me another call was coming in. I hit the answer button on my steering wheel as I checked to my right and left to see if traffic was clear for me to pull out.
“Stop calling me.” The seriousness in my tone was a level that I rarely used. Partly because most people listened the first time I spoke.
“Oh…um…okay…sorry.”
I recognized the stuttering voice on the other end of the line, and it was not coming from my brother. “Delilah,” I said her name as I looked down and verified what I already knew. Lit up on the screen in the center of my dashboard were the words Delilah Cell.
Her voice was shaky and nervous. “I’m so sorry. Mrs. Higgins told me to call you she said—”
“I thought you were Cooper.” I hated that she would ever think I would speak to her like that.
“Oh…” She let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, well. I missed a call from your office because I was in the shower and when I called back Mrs. Higgins told me to call you.”
I knew that she’d said other words after the word shower, but I had no idea what they were. My brain was frozen on that one. Images of Delilah naked with water running down her body flashed in my mind. One after the other.
They were vivid, realistic, and detailed as if they were formed from memories instead of fantasies. In my mind’s eye, I watched single droplets of water slide down her generous curves. I saw the wet strands of her hair clinging to her creamy skin. My mouth watered at the sight of her full breasts, tipped with hardened pink nipples and the patch of wet, dark hair above her sex.
“Sawyer? Are you there?”
Delilah’s uncertain voice was like being splashed with cold water. I cleared my throat. “Yeah.”
A ding sounded and I glanced down at the screen that had read Delilah’s number and saw a text appear at the bottom. It was from the office and said that I should be expecting a call from Delilah, and that I could tell her myself why I was running late.
Yep. That was the woman I’d chosen to have as family.
“Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just running a little late.”
“Oh.” Relief was evident in that one word. “No worries, so am I. I’ll see you soon.”
She disconnected the call, and I stared at the screen that had just had her name written on it. The pure sincerity and heartfelt concern in her questions and her easy forgiveness of my tardiness put more cracks in the barriers I’d built around my heart.
If I hadn’t known Delilah Turner her entire life, I would’ve thought that she was too good to be true. I didn’t see how it was possible that a girl as beautiful and charming as she was could be equally as sexy and seductive. I was awed that someone as smart and funny as her could be just as caring and nurturing. It blew my mind that a person as creative and talented somehow managed to match those qualities with humility and grace evenly.
And I needed to stay as far away from her as possible.
I was so screwed.