Entice (27 page)

For some reason, I always find Dane to be very intimidating, and even though his words are kind and his intentions are noble, right now I feel especially feeble to his aura of power and control, so it takes great effort to hold my voice steady and keep my chin up as I say as confidently as I can, “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but Sawyer and I are great. We don’t need anyone to run interference. We’re a team, together, and we’ll find our own way back to good.”

He considers me and my answer, rubbing his chin and finally letting a coy grin take over his face. “That’s how it should be. Good answer,” he says decidedly. “All right then. If anything feels off, you call him right away. All right?”

“All right.” I nod and walk back in the house and he heads to his car.

Now I need to convince myself, as I just did him, that I’m confident in my team.

F
or the first morning in what seems like forever, I’m up before Sawyer. Not only will I get to see his face instead of the occasional note this morning, but I’m excited to attempt my first Thanksgiving dinner. I’m hoping for edible and praying for no food poisoning, so anywhere in the middle will be considered a success.

Things have been lackluster, to say the least, between Sawyer and I lately, and there’s a distance between us that I feel growing wider every day. I’m not a moron, I see the signs, but one person’s slow down is another person’s go faster before it turns red. A racecar driver at heart, I continue to try. I’d put up a fight and he continued to fight for me, I’m more than woman enough to do the same. There’s still a “we” inside him, I catch glimpses of it every so often; a brush of his hand on mine, a wink here and there…deep down, we’re more than just the roommates we’ve become. Maybe this holiday meal, just he and I, will bring us back to good. Bellies full, snuggled up on the couch with a movie, maybe finally a good heart-to-heart conversation…

“You’re up early.” His groggy morning greeting startles me.

“I am. Good morning.” I go up on my toes for his kiss, but all I get is a chaste brush of his lips then he steps around me to open the fridge. “I had to get the turkey in early if we want to eat by lunch time. I’m about to start peeling potatoes. You wanna help?”

“Oh, um,” he falters, eyes flicking around the room, “I didn’t know you had a big deal planned. I was gonna go in to work.”

“On Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, Em, on Thanksgiving. I need all the money I can get. I have responsibilities.”

“I have responsibilities too, Sawyer. I’m up to my eyeballs in responsibility,” I measure that with a sideways hand at my eye line, “but taking today for family seemed pretty important too. Can’t we just have today?”

“Sure,” he concedes with a small smile that reeks of effort. “What time you want me to be back?”

“Whenever.” I toss the dishtowel on the counter, my mood turned.

“No, not whenever.” He reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to him. “What time, Em?”

I bury my face in his shirt, hiding my teary eyes and disappointment. “I don’t want it to be a burden, Sawyer. I want you to want to be here.”

“I want a lot of things, Emmett.” His face goes to my hair and for a fleeting, hopeful second I think he’s going to give me one of his infamous head kisses that I’ve gone far too long without, but he merely speaks. “I’ll see ya at two. Good?”

All I can do is nod, afraid to try and speak any more. If I dare, I’ll either cry, burdening him more, or scream out my frustrations, driving him further away. So I nod, lift my head, and release him.

“Okay, I’ll be here at two.”

Here, not home. No kiss goodbye.

When he’s gone, I slide down to the floor, right where I stand, and wrap my arms around my knees. We aren’t “playing house” any more and reality’s proving to be too much. I’ve lost Sawyer to his own mind—I’ve become his responsibility. Who could blame him for checking out? The road to heartache, it would seem, is also paved with good intentions.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” I rub my stomach and let go of the hold I had on my tears, watching with a strange detachment as they splash onto my shirt.

I
suck in a harsh gasp, quickly wiping my face and scrambling to my feet. Hoping my mask is in place, I turn, elated that he’s come back in.

But no, he hasn’t…I hear his voice, but he isn’t speaking to me, it’s floating through the open window. And damn you all to hell, Georgia, for hosting Thanksgivings warm enough for open windows, ‘cause what I hear Sawyer say next reaches into my chest and takes the last hopeful piece of us I had left and snuffs it into the ground.

“Hi. I didn’t think you’d answer on Thanksgiving. Can I come over now and talk?”

Chapter 26

My Family Stone

—Emmett—

“
T
his feels amazing. You’re all geniuses.”

“All?!” Whitley cries. “Do not even think of giving Laney credit for pedicures! She wouldn’t even know that word if it weren’t for Bennett and I. Right, Ben?”

“Right.” Poor Bennett is breaking a sweat taking the pumice stone to Laney’s crusty, ball playing heels. “God, Laney, I hope you wear socks to bed! If not, Dane’s not gonna have any skin left on his poor legs!”

“I can hear you bitches when you talk out loud,” Laney retorts, her head back on the couch and cucumber slices over her eyes.

I giggle even though I’m only half-listening to their banter. Whitley is a rubbing, scrubbing goddess, performing crazy miracles on my swollen feet right now. I’m so relaxed I might fall asleep.

This is precisely what I needed, an evening with awesome ladies and my aching cankles being tended to. Nowhere in the book Sawyer’s reading did it say that the minute you hit 27 weeks your water retention triples overnight and you turn into an Oompa Loompa. If it did, he didn’t read me that part.

Then again, Sawyer hasn’t been reading me any parts lately. Nor have we watched movies together, and the two times I treated myself to some Coldstone relief, I was alone. He missed the first breastfeeding class, which I understood, since he doesn’t need to know how to do that, but missing the last doctor appointment? That spoke volumes. Even louder is the fact that he hasn’t so much hinted at, let alone made love to me in weeks. Maybe the person he can “talk to” filled that gap as well…

Lately, I’ve been regarded with little more than causal friendliness, with pecks goodbye and radio rather than conversation on the trips to and from work—the ones we actually make together, that is. He still finds his way to my bed every night, but he sneaks in late when he thinks I’m asleep and I do nothing to let him know otherwise. In the morning, he’s always awake before I stir. He’s there, but nowhere to be found.

I don’t think I’m grotesque, my total weight gain thus far is nine pounds, which Dr. Greer assures me is healthy and acceptable. I can still wear almost all my old clothes, even my jeans, if I push the top of them below my baby bump. I haven’t spied any stretch marks yet, but I still lather in Vitamin E Cocoa Butter every morning and night.

So I’m not sure what the problem is, or when it officially started, but my Sawyer is gone and left “Dutiful Sawyer” in his place. If he’d just talk to me, confirm what I already know deep down, he’d find that I’d peacefully be more than okay with simply having my friend back.

“Emmett, you okay?” Whitley smiles, drying my feet and placing one on her knee. “Lost ya there for a minute.”

“Oh yeah, fine. It’s so relaxing, I must’ve started to doze off. Are you done?”

“No silly! Now I have to clip and paint your toenails. You pick color?” she says in her best pedicure technician voice.

“Surprise me. Before long I won’t be able to see them anyway.” I laugh.

Bennett’s sigh can probably be heard by the whole block when she’s finally to the nail painting phase of Laney’s feet. “So what’s everybody doing for Christmas? I can’t believe there’s only two weeks left!”

Whitley answers first. “Evan and I are going to Parker and Hayden’s, and of course, to see his parents.”

“How is Hayden?” Laney’s interest now piqued, she peels the vegetable patches off her eyes and sits up. “She should be popping out those triplets anytime now, right?”

Whitley frowns, her lip quivering some. “She’s due January 4th, but with triplets, they could come any day. Her doctor’s adamant to keep them in there as long as possible, so she’s been on bed rest for over a month.”

“I should have known that,” Laney says softly, a flash of shame moving over her face. “I’ll be over to see them too. Dane and I are going to Daddy’s. And a trip to Mom too, of course. And let’s not forget, a very important visit to Bag N Suds! I have to make sure Kaitlyn’s kicked out of college ass is enjoying her new job,” she cackles, holding her stomach and throwing her head back.

“No way! I hadn’t heard that!” Whitley’s face lights up and Laney bobs her head yes very enthusiastically. “What do you know? Karma got something right.”

I don’t know who Kaitlyn is, and as much as I should be a good friend and ask, I don’t really feel like it. I’m such a sadsack lately…stupid hormones.

“What about you, Emmett?” Bennett asks me. “What are your and Sawyer’s plans?”

I must look as pathetic as I feel with the three of them scooting closer in on me. “I, uh, haven’t heard that we have any specific plans, per se. I’m sure we’ll talk about it soon. In fact,” I go for exuberance and a subject change, “I need to get a tree up and shop for some presents for you ladies!”

This seems to placate them and all three start rattling off ideas for a Crew Christmas before everyone leaves and maybe drawing names out of a hat for buying.

“Hey, ladies, foot party I see.”

Over their excited planning and fight for loudest voice in the mix, Sawyer’s arrival has gone unnoticed. Who knows how long he’s been standing in front of us.

“You want yours done next?” Bennett teases him, gesturing to the foot spa on the floor.

“I’m gonna pass, B,” he barely chuckles. “Em, you here waiting for me?” He levels his quirked brow gaze on me, expecting an answer.

“N-no,” stumbles out of my mouth. “The girls invited me down for pedis.” He probably thinks I’ve camped out here, waiting for him to get back, but if he really stopped to think about it…how the hell would I know when he’d be back, or that he’d decide today he comes here instead of mine for that matter? Hard to stalk a ghost, Sawyer.

“Hmm.” He nods. “I’m beat, I’m gonna lay down.” And then he’s gone, walking back towards his room.

“What was that?” Laney hisses when his door shuts.

I pop my shoulders nonchalantly, because I don’t even know. “I’m gonna go ahead and go. I have a lot to do tomorrow and I need some rest.” Getting up and out of the couch shouldn’t be as challenging as it is with only nine extra pounds, but pregnancy does inexplicable things to your center of gravity.

Seeing my struggle, Laney jumps up and offers me a hand. “Emmett, is everything all right with you and Sawyer? He’s our friend, but you are too. So if you want to talk—”

“Everything’s fine, just different schedules and paths lately. I’m sure he’ll be down later.” I slip my freshly painted toes into the flip flops I brought in December. “You guys let me know when we’re drawing names, okay?”

“Okay,” Laney mumbles, wearing a concerned frown, and the other two silently nod.

As I shuffle down the sidewalk back to the home he’d secured me, and maneuver around the car in the driveway that he’d secured me…I feel secure in knowing one thing: I’m stronger than I think…I mean, I manage to get all the way inside my living room before I let even one tear fall.

Chapter 27

About A Girl

—Sawyer—

“
W
hat’d I tell you about worrying and upsetting Laney?”

“Nice to see you too, brother,” I bite back to Dane, standing across the bar from me. “We were low on vermouth and two taps. I put the order in; it’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Great, thanks. Now back to my original question. Laney’s all in a snit about you and Emmett. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”