Chapter Thirteen
Justine was a close friend to sleepless nights. She was familiar with the dull throb in the back of her head, the sore muscles, the struggle to come out of the fog. Still, on this morning, looking out at the endless ocean of white from her window, somewhere she’d never really even noticed before ached.
The phone on the bedside table rang, and after a moment’s hesitation, she answered it.
“Sweeatpea,” Thea said, “I have to tell you something. I’m afraid I told your dad where you were.”
“I know, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I didn’t just tell him that, though. See, he asked me out to dinner, because he wanted to discuss you. You and Sawyer, really.”
Justine leaned forward, mind on alert now. “What did he say about us? Did you tell him we kissed?”
“No, I didn’t say a word. I told him Sawyer was just touching your elbow in that picture. Do you know about the picture in the tabloid?”
Justine remembered when Travis had shown up at the penthouse, drunk out of his mind, and aggressive as hell. “Unfortunately, I do. So what did Daddy say?”
“He said you were looking at Sawyer like you had feelings for him. I told him the elbow wasn’t an erogenous zone, so he should let it go. I don’t know if he will, though. We had a terrible fight about it.”
She wrapped the phone cord around her fingers, anxiety building in her chest. “Anything else I should know?”
“Well, I redecorated your office. It’s beautiful, of course. All in red. The desk—”
“Mom, I meant anything that can’t wait until I get back.”
“No, I don’t think so. I spoke with Veronica while I worked on your office. I like her.”
“I like her, too. I’m going to go, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you back, sweetpea.” She put the phone back into the cradle as a black monster of a vehicle, chains on the tires crossed the parking lot and stopped outside. Justine tugged the curtains aside. A figure emerged, covered head to toe in clothing so padded she couldn’t even make out the gender. The person made their way to the office then back out and up the stairs. He or she paused and studied Sawyer’s door.
Ignoring her still damp hair, Justine opened the door of her own room and stepped outside. “Excuse me?”
A gloved hand tugged at the scarf to reveal Liann’s perfect red-carpet smile. For a minute, Justine had a strange impression that she’d stepped into the TV because the whole situation seemed surreal.
“Come inside. He’s sleeping.” And wasn’t that the craziest thing to say? Her chance at winning over Liann had a small bit of hope again, and all she could think of was Sawyer needing to sleep.
Liann followed Justine in and took a full five minutes to unravel and unwrap herself. Under all that, she’d taken the time to fix her hair and put on her makeup. Not even Justine was that dedicated. Considering her sweatshirt and leggings, she was becoming less dedicated by the minute.
At a loss as to how to act as a hostess in the generic hotel room, Justine crossed to the sink and held up a cup wrapped in plastic. “All I have is water. Would you like some?”
Liann shook her head, and Justine toyed with the cup in her hand. “I’m surprised to see you again. We didn’t leave on good terms.”
“I wanted to talk to the two of you about this show of yours. I thought I’d invite you up to my house for a few days, to wait out the snow.”
“That’s a huge imposition.”
“It’s a small imposition. But I don’t mind. I cook, and my beds are definitely more comfortable.”
Justine crossed the small room and settled down on the mattress across from Liann’s chair. “You don’t like me.”
Liann opened her mouth, giving a little shake of her head, but Justine held up a hand and went on, “No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’m all that likable.
“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, all that’s true. But once you start talking, there’s something about you. You’re smarter than I bet most people give you credit for and you’re more…genuine, I guess that’s the word. You’re real ,and I have to respect that.”
“Real, huh?” Justine couldn’t help smiling at the description. “That’s one way to put it. All right, I don’t see how we could say no. I’m becoming traumatized by this room. Can you wait here? I’ll get Sawyer.”
She knocked on his door, already mentally bidding this drab place goodbye. The door crept open, and he stepped forward. Dark shadows, like bruises, lined his eyes. She felt for him, wanted to smooth down his hair and run her fingers along his face to soothe him. But he didn’t invite her in from the cold, so she shoved it down.
The time had come, maybe the time was long overdue, to move forward with the show, with her life. Sawyer had been clear; he wasn’t part of that. Didn’t matter if he couldn’t or wouldn’t. He just wasn’t. She tried to ignore the ache in her chest as she stood outside, shivering in the snow, and explained they were leaving.
He rubbed at his eyes with the palm of one hand. “Are you serious? If she’d had dogs, she would’ve sicced them on you. What the hell changed her mind?”
“I don’t know. She says I’m ‘real,’ whatever that means.” Justine hugged herself and hunched her shoulders for warmth. “What difference does it make? She’s willing to listen. And I’m starting to take this hotel personally. Everything sucks here, and I’m not just talking about the decor. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Get back inside and pack up. What the hell, let’s travel up Mt. Everest in a snow storm.” He shut the door in her face.
God, he infuriated her. Why was he so annoyed with her? She wished he’d hug her again. Wrap her up, make her warm, tell her everything would be fine. Instead, she shuffled back to her own room and slammed the door against the chill. She gave Liann a smile, genuine as she could muster. “He can’t wait.”
Yeah, she was totally real.
Liann sat in the chair by the window while Justine packed up her things, which didn’t take long. She hadn’t learned many practical skills from her mother, but packing a lot in a limited amount of time and space, she’d mastered.
“Honey, how long did you plan on being here?”
“What? Oh, it’s a habit. I always over pack.” She ignored the sound of the door opening and closing as she fought with a zipper.
“On the upside, she’s always fun to look at.” Sawyer spoke from behind her, that persona of bad boy charm back in place. “You ready to go, princess?”
Justine didn’t answer but continued to stare at her bags. He would be cleaned up, all perfect; hair falling in his eyes, stubble gone for now. He’d look like nothing had ever happened. The idea of pretending exhausted her. Even now, he was going on to Liann about how nice she was to invite them. Justine tugged her luggage from the bed. “Let’s go.”
She followed Liann to the car while Sawyer paid their bill. Inside the enormous SUV, Liann adjusted the heat, turning it up high, and twisted to face Justine. “I feel a little silly. I didn’t believe you when you said you two weren’t a thing, but separate rooms. I guess you’re not sleeping together.”
There wasn’t a simple response, not if Justine were being honest. And God, she needed to tell the truth to someone. “I think he spends a lot of time wishing he’d never met me.”
The two women watched him approach, bundled up in a light jacket. They hadn’t planned to be here in a blizzard. Justine turned toward the window. Did she wish she’d never met him? No. No, she couldn’t say that. Really, she couldn’t imagine having not met him, having him not be in her life, as crazy as he made her. She hadn’t examined her own feelings, just demanded Sawyer admit his. Now, a horrible realization hit her. “I think…I think I love him.”
“Oh, God.” Justine’s hand flew to her mouth, but she couldn’t un-say it.
She jerked back, ready to beg Liann for her silence on this. Liann stared at her, eyes wide, mouth gaping.
Sawyer climbed into the back and slammed the door. “What’s up?”
Liann closed her mouth and faced forward.
“Everything’s fine,” Justine said as her mind raced. Why did she say that? Why, why, why had she felt compelled to give it a name? Love. Justine closed her eyes and shook her head. This was a disaster.
Sawyer cleared his throat. “You sure you can get back up that mountain, Ms. Linell?”
“Honey, I can get anywhere I need to go around here.” She gave him a quick smile in the rearview mirror. “And don’t you dare call me ‘Ms. Linell’ again, like I’m old enough to be your grandmother. Call me Liann. Or Lynn. That was my name, before Justine’s daddy decided it was too plain.”
Justine couldn’t speak anymore. It’s not that she chose not to, she didn’t have the ability to say a thing. She’d already said too much. Panic snaked its fingers around her windpipe and squeezed. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she pressed a hand there, like that could somehow help. If she didn’t get a handle on this, she would hyperventilate.
She hadn’t had a full-on panic attack in a long time, but then she hadn’t screwed up this much for a while, either. She jabbed at the button to crack her window. The cold air struck her flaming cheeks, and the panic eased off some.
“Justine, it’s freezing out there. Literally, below zero, freezing,” Sawyer grumbled from the back seat.
“Oh, honey, it’s the altitude.” Liann glanced at her, and Justine offered her a weak smile of thanks. “Happens all the time. Air’s thinner up here.”
The rest of the ride went by in silence. The roads treacherous, Liann took her time, never sliding even once.
After Liann eased the SUV into a spot right next to the steps, the two of them followed her into the house. She showed Sawyer to his room first, ordered him to freshen up, and then opened the door across the hall. Inside, she seemed to be trying hard to be cheerful, her voice coming out a chirp. Justine shut the door behind her and leaned against it. “I’m sorry. You’ve invited us to your lovely home, and now I’ve made you uncomfortable. And myself uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.”
Liann sat down on the bed, and smoothed the duvet. “No, you didn’t. You threw me for a loop, that’s for sure, but I’m glad you came. You haven’t told him yet, have you?”
“Not going to tell him. In fact, we could forget I said anything.”
“No, we can’t do that. He’s an attractive man, and if you hadn’t said anything, I’d have put him in the room next to mine, and you down the hall.”
“Um, that wouldn’t have worked for me.” Okay, that was inappropriate. This chick was crazier than Justine. Still, she’d kept quiet about it and helped Justine cover. Crazy didn’t mean she was a bad person. Just a little slutty and into younger men. Justine continued, “I’m in a complicated situation, and it’s not like it matters because he doesn’t feel the same, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone. Like, anyone. At all.”
“You mean your daddy.”
“For starters. But if you tell anyone, he’ll find out. He’s—”
“Brutal? I know. Don’t worry, I’m not going to breathe a word.”
“Thank you.” Justine looked around her room, lemony cool, yellow walls, flowing curtains, and a huge, soft bed that made her want to crawl under the crisp, white sheets and sleep for three days. “Actually, thank you for taking me away from that horrible motel and letting me sleep in this divine bed.”
Liann smiled at her and pulled the curtains open. “You said you loved the view. This room, second to mine, has the best view. See the stream there? In the spring, when all the snow melts, it turns into this gushing waterfall.”
“This place is like a sanctuary.”
“That’s exactly what it is, honey. Let’s collect Sawyer and go have some hot chocolate. It’s a family recipe, makes Godiva taste tacky.”
Downstairs, they gathered in the living room, which they hadn’t seen on the first visit. Twenty-foot windows dominated a room surrounded by river rock walls. Justine sat on a pillow in front of the fire, drinking her hot chocolate and listening to Sawyer sell their idea to Liann. Every now and then, she’d throw in something he hadn’t mentioned, but mostly she listened.
She should be saying more. It didn’t matter where her heart was right now, this was the thing that mattered. She took up when Sawyer left off, telling Liann why she would be well-suited to the job.
“It sounds novel, and I think it’d be a great opportunity. I don’t know if I’m ready for that life again.” Liann’s brow puckered as she laid her mug on the table and pushed it away. “Everything’s so fast, it has to happen right now. It can be rough.”
“How bad could a morning show be?” Justine wondered aloud.
Liann gathered up the cocoa mugs. “It won’t be like this. Anyway, you two make yourselves comfortable. I’m going to start dinner.” She pointed a finger at them. “And don’t even think about trying to come help me. My kitchen is my domain. Nobody cooks in my kitchen but me. Got it?”
When Liann was gone, Justine walked to look out the windows at the mountains and trees bathed in snow. Sawyer surprised her when he spoke up at her shoulder. “I think she’s going to say yes.”
“It sounds like she’s considering it.”
She looked up at him, and her heart clenched in her chest, like a fist closed tight around it, because she wanted to touch him, be with him… know him. “What are we doing here? We’re trying to convince Liann to leave behind this perfectly good life she’s made for herself.” She checked over her shoulder that they were alone. “Also, I think I pushed for her based on a little girl’s memories. She’s not what I expected. Is she right for this?”
“All the reasons you said she’d be good are true. She’s going to be a diva to work with, but they’re all divas. It’s got to be your call, Justine.” He took her arm and led her away from the window. “When did you change your mind about this? That night, the night you went to the diner? All you could talk about was how sure you were this was the best thing to do. Where the hell has your head been all day?”
“I don’t know. You definitely don’t want to know. I’ll be fine.”
“What does that mean, I don’t want to know?”
“I talk about feelings all the time, in case you hadn’t noticed, and even I’m getting tired of it. Let it go.” She took off, up the stairs. She’d spent years learning not to censor her emotions, to accept herself, even if her father wouldn’t. Now, she had to learn to start pretending again, or everything around her would come crashing down. And if she couldn’t pretend, well, she’d ignore it.
****
“You’re an incredible cook, Liann.” Sawyer took a deep drink of coffee, even though steam curled from the top, because it’d been too long since he’d had a decent cup. He still couldn’t believe Justine had passed up the offer of real, fresh ground coffee. She’d gushed about how long since she’d soaked in a clean, bubbly tub of water and hustled upstairs.
He shifted in his seat, annoyed that his mind kept traveling upstairs, imagining her curves all slicked with soapy water. She’d probably pinned her hair up, and the curls would be pulling loose and falling around her face. He took another drink, burning his tongue, jerking his imagination back downstairs where it belonged.
He couldn’t keep doing this. If he wanted nothing more than a tumble in the sheets with Justine, that would be a nuisance he could ignore. But his thoughts of her always led back to this place in him he hadn’t even known existed three weeks ago. All this back and forth between them, it was messing with her, too. He could tell. The last thing he wanted was to make her miserable.
Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he didn’t know a solution, he looked up to find Liann studying him. “So, Sawyer, tell me. What’s going on with you and Miss Justine?”
He jerked, guilt spreading through him. “We work together.”
“That’s it? What do you think of her?”
“She’s a pain in my ass.” She’d become a hell of a lot more than that. Still, his stock response tended to keep people out of his business. Not to mention, it was also occasionally the truth.
Her eyebrows shot up and she looked at him for a moment, and she seemed unsure of what to say. “Okay, I can see that. I mean, she does have that poor, little rich girl thing going on. What’s that about?”
Was she for real? Considering that was the exact same routine she’d been pulling all day, it came across as disingenuous. Justine didn’t act like any shallow, selfish rich girl he knew. “Justine never sits around feeling sorry for herself. And she could, she’d have plenty of reason, but she doesn’t.”
Liann tucked her legs under her, on the couch, and looked interested. “Like what?”
“What?”
“Like what reasons?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I wondered if she’s anything like her parents. Her mother was a case. People said she’d seduced Daniel with come-hither stares and her breathy voice. He married her before he came to his senses, you know, thought to test out the merchandise. Got her home and found out she was cold as a dead fish.”
“You got a hate-on going for her mom, huh?” Sawyer’s mind went back to Justine, upstairs in that big tub. “She’s definitely not cold.”
“You two must be doing a lot of ‘working together’ if you know so much about it.” She framed the working part in air quotes, which he found obnoxious.
“What the hell is this?” He slammed his mug down on the table and leaned forward to glare at her.
“I’m curious.”
“Listen, if you decide you want to do this, that’s fine. But if you’re trying to cause trouble for her, I’ll―”
Liann held her hands out in front of her. “Whoa. I’m not planning on causing your girl any problems.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“You sure act like she’s your girl.” She stood up and smoothed out her pants. “I’m going to bed, honey. Oh, and I’m making biscuits and gravy at eight sharp, don’t stay up too late.”
The fire crackled as Sawyer sat, annoyed with Liann’s implications. It didn’t mean a damn thing that he didn’t want her causing Justine any trouble. And even if it did, even if he did admit to himself it was because he cared about her, it wasn’t any of Liann’s business. He was going to have to keep an eye on their star. As many times as Justine had been let down by people, she still expected them to be better. He couldn’t imagine her ever trying to screw someone over, so maybe she didn’t realize how awful people could be. Maybe she didn’t get it, but there was more going on here.
How did he get himself in this situation, anyway? Looking out for Justine. It wasn’t because Daniel asked him to. It was so far past that, now. He carried his cup to the kitchen, rinsed it out, and hoped for a decent night’s sleep.
Upstairs, he paused outside Justine’s bedroom. She was inside, lathering up, soaking her body until she’d be warm and soft and smell like strawberries. If he went in, and come on, there would be no mistaking his intentions, would she throw something at him? Or give him that smile, the one just for him?
Sawyer mustered his will, shuffled into his own room, and flopped down on the bed. He didn’t even know why he was over here and she was all the way over there. Except, he still couldn’t stomach the thought of letting her down. He would, if he tried to be more, the man she saw when she looked at him.
He stared at the door. Maybe he could be different, because she was different. Since he’d met her…okay, yeah, he’d tried to get her to bed. But he was only human and he wanted her. But then, he’d cared too much about her to take her up on the offer when she was vulnerable. That it might end in her getting hurt. He’d had her back, even when she made him want to yank out all his hair in frustration. Maybe he already was different.
Yeah, he had to tell her. Right now. Before she got out of that tub. Even if she did throw something at his head, threw him out, he’d try again tomorrow. And the next day. He had no clue where this would go, but he wasn’t going to be too much of a coward to find out. Not anymore.
He crossed with purpose into her room. Desire pumped through him at the mental image of her naked and sexy and wet.
He threw the bathroom door open, not even thinking that barging in might scare the hell out of her. For a second, before the door banged against the wall, she looked exactly like he’d imagined. Steam rose out of the soapy water. She lay submerged almost to her shoulders. Tendrils of hair snaked around her face and water glistened on her skin like beaded gold.
Her eyes widened in shock as she tried to jump out of the tub and grab for a towel at the same time. Her hand slipped on the side of the tub, sending her tumbling backward, under the water. She came up sputtering, grasping for the towel, clutching it in front of her.
“Sawyer?”
This was already starting out all wrong and he could’ve punched himself. “Hey.”
She raised her eyebrows and gazed at him. When he didn’t say anything, since he had lost the ability to form words, she said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Smooth. That’s great. “I’ve been thinking.”
She pulled the towel tighter. “Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
“All right, I’ll get out and we can talk. Can you…”
“No. Stay right there.”
“Ookay.” She gave him another one of those concerned, did-you-lose-your-mind looks and sank down into the tub up to her chin.
“I’ve been thinking, you’re right. Um, this isn’t meaningless, it isn’t shitting where you eat. You mean something. To me.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but he sucked in a breath and pressed on. That’d been like trying to spit out a chunk of marble. “I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings. And I want to see where this goes. Not just this moment, but after. I can’t say what those feelings are, or what to call them, but—”
“No, no, no. I agree. Naming it’s bad. I don’t want to name it anymore.”
He took a couple of steps into the bathroom, and her head tilted back against the lip of the tub. “I’ve never said that before, to anyone.”
“All right, stop.” She tugged on the soaked towel, in the water, spreading it over her even more. “I can’t have this conversation while I’m naked and the bubbles are popping by the second.”
“You’re right. I have you at a disadvantage.” Already his hands itched to slide over her skin.
She nodded, until he stripped off his shirt. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Gonna wash your hair.”
“Naked?”
“Yeah.”
She sank down in the tub to her chin, eyes wide, watching him.
“That okay?” When she nodded, he unbuttoned his jeans, slipped off his shoes and socks, and tugged down the rest of his clothes. Her gaze slid over him, so still now he couldn’t see her breathing.
He’d never done this. He’d undressed in front of women, but because that’s what you did first. Had anyone ever looked at him quite that way before?
Sawyer stepped into the tub and sat down across from her, tossing the towel she’d been using as cover on the floor with a wet plop. Tracing a finger over her jaw line, he said, “You’re beautiful.”
“No, I look like an idiot.” She pulled the clip from her hair so it tumbled into the water and floated around them both. With a flick of her wrist, she let the clip clatter to the floor, as well. “We’re making a mess.”
He lifted his thumb to cup her chin. “Remember when I said I didn’t like to look at you? I love looking at you.”
She leaned her head back against the tub and gazed up at him, skin flushed pink. He took her hand and tugged until she sat with her back in front of him. His cock jumped when she leaned against him and he groaned softly. Taking it slow, he ran his fingers down the long mane of hair until it ended, a few inches above her waist. She straightened her back and took a shaky breath.
Resting his head on her shoulder, he whispered into her ear. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do anything. Except let me wash your hair. I’ve kind of got my mind set on that.”
“I don’t want to stop.” Her voice was soft and breathy. “I know I’m not what you’re used to. I don’t want to be a letdown after everything.”
“No, this isn’t what I’m used to, and you’re not like anyone else. That’s why I’m just about out of my mind with wanting you.”
“You’re giving me emotional comfort.”
“Yeah.” He scraped his teeth along her neck, then licked the pale mark it left, and she inhaled sharply. “I guess you’re a good influence, princess.”
She’d laid her things out; shampoo, soap, and that slippery, orange-tinted stuff might be bath oil. He poured the shampoo into his hands and worked it through. The weight of her hair in his hands, the way it began curling as he worked in the shampoo fascinated him. The sweet scent of her shampoo filled the air, bringing back memories of all the times he’d touched her, kissed her, longed for her. He traced a finger down her spine, slipping over the bumps, and she shivered.
You took care of her. Justine’s dream-voice echoed through his head, and he froze.
She must’ve noticed a change in him, because she looked at him over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He stuck his hands in the water, and the soap floated away. “Rinse.”
She managed to scoot around the tub, until she was facing him again, without coming out of the water. Closing her eyes, she slipped under. Her foot pressed against his thigh, and he hissed. Sweet mother, that was hot. Justine emerged, water running from her hair, down her face and shoulders, back into the giant tub. His fingers tightened under the water as he fought a desperate urge to pull her to him, to take her while the water shimmered on her face. She deserved to be seduced, touched, and caressed until the fire burnt as hot for her.
She blinked at him and then spoke, her voice thick. “Now what?”
“I don’t have an exit strategy, give me a minute.” He lifted her foot out of the water and traced her instep, soft and wrinkled from the water. He pressed his lips there and tasted the tang of water and bath oil and her.
“Take your time,” she breathed out, laying her head back against the opposite edge of the massive garden tub.
Sawyer let her foot slip back into the water and took her hand, urging her closer. When she rose up out of the water and settled on his lap, thighs pressing into his hips, it took his breath away. His hard cock strained against her stomach. Once again, he found himself struggling to maintain eye contact as droplets skimmed down her breasts to drip from her nipples onto his chest.
When he dragged his gaze up to lock eyes with her, she said, “You’d better be sure about this because I don’t think I can stop, this time.”
“I’m sure blood stopped going to my brain about ten minutes ago. Ask me later.”
She nodded, and he eased her off him to slide a hand up her thigh to her waist. With a brisk shake of her head, she snatched his wrist. God, her eyes were darker than night now. “Make love to me,” she demanded, her voice hoarse.
“I want to touch you.” He’d been imagining how she’d feel since she came upstairs.
“Touch me later. Please, I need you so much.”
He rose above her and she opened for him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she pulled him down to her, into a kiss that obliterated every thought except burying himself deep inside her.
She cried out when he thrust into her. The water swirled around their intertwined bodies, and he took his time, easing away from her. He needed that look on her face, to watch her while she took him in. Rougher than he’d intended, he grasped her face and tilted it back.
Again, he plunged into her, delving deeper. He needed to touch every part of her. Her hips met his, urging him on. The weightlessness of the water made it a slow symphony of movement. Her breath quickened until it nearly pushed him over the edge. The sound of it, nothing more than breath, deep and slow, almost a whispered moan.
Her hands gripped the tub above her and she moved beneath him, lost in the pleasure. Too soon, her muscles clamped around him and he had to close his eyes. If he didn’t stop watching her, he’d come, and he wasn’t ready.
When she stopped writhing beneath him, he opened his eyes to take her in. She was his, right then, it was obvious in the unfocused way she looked up at him, eyes half-lidded. Satisfaction filled him, even as he ached for release. Stripped bare right now, he couldn’t lie to himself. That’s what he’d wanted since their first kiss.
Mine. He rose up triumphantly, clamping his hands around her hips, aware of her delectable ass beneath his fingers. He wanted to take her over the edge again, had to, and he wanted to go with her. He thrust, deep and fast, and as her body did an incredible dance around him, she cried out. He could pleasure her; he didn’t know any other way to respond to the sensations rocking him. Then she called out his name, and he exploded deep inside her while she pulsed around him.
It wasn’t until he could think again, in the cooling water, that he realized he’d given her more than pleasure. Whatever beat inside of him, it belonged to her now.