His Everlasting Love: 50 Loving States, Virginia (11 page)

Willa smiled, happy he’d decided to start being more respectful where his leg was concerned.

But then he abruptly turned off the flame, even though the omelet was only halfway done.

“Everything okay?” she asked. Still unable to stop herself from worrying over him. Caring, despite…

“No, it isn’t.” He bowed his head. “I thought I could do this.”

“Do what—”

Before the question was fully out of his mouth. He had her in his arms.

Ramekins crashed to the ground. All those fixings gone in one sweep of Sawyer’s arm. Then she was up on the counter, Sawyer’s hands at her hips as he kissed the everlasting hell out of her.

11

Sawyer kissed her.

Not just because he wanted to, but because he felt compelled to. Because somewhere deep down in his soul, he absolutely had to.

That strange déjà vu feeling was back. Riding him hard as he reached underneath the hem of her nightshirt and wrenched the sensible cotton panties right off of her. Then he found the tight button between her legs with his thumb. “Get wet for me, baby,” he said against her lips. “I need inside of you.”

Her moan was the best answer she could have given him. But then she said, “Sawyer, we shouldn’t…”

Fuck that. She wanted him, too. He could feel her hot nub swelling against his thumb, and when he pushed two fingers into her tunnel, her sex squeezed them tight, hot and wet, juices already coming down. For him. For this.

He kissed her some more, convincing her the best way he knew how. Also wanting to taste her. Next time, he’d get between her legs, he promised himself. He was dying to eat her out.

But not this time. This time his need was too urgent, flooding his entire body with heat as he entangled her tongue in his. And the déjà vu was too powerful, making him feel like this was a scene he just had to play out.

Unable to take it any longer, he pulled himself out of his sweats and—thank fuck—the counter was low. All he had to do was push in…and he was exactly where he wanted to be. Exactly where he knew he belonged.

Her throaty moan was just the encouragement he needed to start moving inside her. He braced his hands against the counter and went hard, pounding into the heat between her thighs like a man possessed.

Holy fuck, her pussy fit him like a glove. Squeezing his dick in a hot clasp better than anything he’d ever felt in his life. Tight and hot, it pulled him in with every stroke.

Soon he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to change up his thrusts, slowly rolling his hips into hers in order to keep from coming too fast. But he only got to savor her this way for a little bit…

“Sawyer, please,” she whimpered, her face tight with erotic agony. “Please, more, more.”

Then she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his ass, pulling him in deeper. And. Sawyer. Just. Lost. It.

The appliances at the back of the counter rattled as he started fucking her fast again. Hard and deep, to the rhythm of her sweet whimpers and moans as hot, volatile need flooded his system.

The déjà vu—though weird—made taking her like this even better. He felt insane, but also like this was absolutely right. Absolutely where he should be. Between this woman’s legs, claiming her as his, in the oldest way known to man.

“Sawyer!” she cried out again. Then she broke off, croaking as she came so hard on his cock. So hard…

Her release was his complete undoing. His cock jerked deep inside her and he came, spilling jets of semen into her with a hoarse shout. Only then did the intense déjà vu feeling ebb away. Only then did he feel fully satisfied.

At least for now. He already knew in both his heart and his mind, that taking her in the way he had literally dreamed of wouldn’t be enough to scrub her out of his every waking thought. He’d want this with her again. Today. Tomorrow. Possibly always.

Always and forever.

“Oh God, we didn’t use a condom. Again.”

Her shaky words jerked him down from his cloud, a lead balloon on a sunny morning.

“It’s okay…” he told her.

“We should have used a condom,” she said, sighing sadly into his shoulder.

He kissed her on top of her bowed head. “It’s okay. I’m clean,” he assured her, stroking her braids. “Got everything ran at my last check up, and I haven’t been with anyone else in awhile. A long while.”
Because I’ve been holding out for this
, he thought to himself.
Waiting to find you.

But she pulled away from him, her face miserable with regret. “Can you please…get out of me? I know moving backwards on your new prosthesis might be tricky for you, but I need you out.”

Feeling like both a cripple and pervert now, he pulled out. Backing up. She was right. It was tricky, and he hated the way his gimp leg bent weird under him, making it necessary for him to hold on to the royal blue counter as he pulled up his pants and watched her climb down. She immediately readjusted her t-shirt but didn’t bother to look for her panties, which he’d tossed God knew where in his frenzy to get inside of her.

“Look,” he said, hating the miserable expression she wore now. Even more so because having sex with him had put it there. “I know you’re probably scared about something…unplanned happening, but nine times out of ten, it doesn’t. And even if it did, I’m responsible. I’d be there. I’d provide.”

The look she pinned him with was so cold and resentful, you’d think he’d said the exact opposite: that he wouldn’t be there for her, that he couldn’t be depended on…

“I’ve got to go,” she said, her voice little more than a rasp now.

“No, stay,” he said. “I don’t want you leaving here upset. I’ll cancel the lunch with my dad and we’ll talk about this.”

She pushed her now very messy braids out of her face. “I really need to go.” Her voice was shaking, and he could clearly see the effort she was putting into not stuttering when she said, “Look, you’ll need to find someone else to do your PT from now on. I’ll pay you back for the car, I promise. But…you just need to find someone else.”

But the thing was…he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted her. Only her. Administering his PT. And occupying his bed.

“Willa,” he told her quietly. “Falling asleep with you last night was one of the best things that has ever happened to me in my life.”

“Don’t say that!” She reeled back around to face him, her eyes wide with fear and anger. “Please don’t say that.”

“It feels like I know you, Willa,” he went on, ignoring her pleas in order to speak his truth. “Like we belong together.”

Willa looked from side to side, like a wild animal suddenly trapped, which made it all the more unbelievable to him when she said in a calm voice, “Sometimes…sometimes patients mistake gratitude for stronger feelings. It’s easy to get confused emotionally in these situations. And I know us sleeping together doesn’t help with that. But please realize this is both unprofessional and plain unethical on my part. It can’t happen again, and that’s why I’m taking myself off your case.”

He just stood there, staring her down with blazing eyes and a thundering heart. “Why does it feel like I know you, Willa?”

She shook her head. “Sawyer…”

“Why does it feel like you’re the crazy one, not me? Crazy for not wanting us to be together? For not seeing things like I do?”

“Sawyer...I don’t know,” she answered, with a defeated sigh. “But you shouldn’t feel like that. You shouldn’t feel like you know me. And you
should
be thinking and acting like a person who only started talking to me a couple of weeks ago, with a thirteen year break in between.”

He kept her pinned there anyway, rage icing over his veins. “There’s somebody else, isn’t there? Somebody waiting for you at home.”

The accusation dropped down between them like an anvil. Shaking the room.

She looked at him. Just looked at him for a long time. And then she wrapped her arms around herself and gave him a quick nod. “Like I said, I’ve really got to go.”

No! No!
There couldn’t be another man. But he sensed the truth of somebody else lurking in the background of Willa’s story, like he was standing right there in the kitchen with them.

“How serious is it?” he asked her.

“Sawyer…”

“You aren’t wearing a ring, so I’m thinking you two haven’t made each other any life-binding promises yet.”

Now she just headed for the kitchen door. Like she was running away from his words. Running away from him.

“How about if I made you some promises?” he asked her back.

That question stopped her in her tracks.

“Real promises. Like I promise to love you better than him, Willa. Promises like, I will take care of you better than him. Promises like, I would put a ring on it right now if it meant you wouldn’t leave out that door. If I made you a promise like that, would you stay?”

Silence. It went on for so long, Sawyer thought they might stay like this forever. Her still as a statue at his kitchen door. Him holding his breath, his heart on a tightrope as he waited for her to answer.

But in in the end, she said, “Sawyer, if you realized how insane you sounded right now, you’d thank me for doing us both this favor by leaving.”

Then she pushed through the door.

Leaving him behind. With his feeling of déjà vu.

And his obvious insanity.

And his all-consuming need.

And his love.

The love she apparently didn’t want.

12

Willa heard the crash of pans almost before she’d cleared the door.

Knew that if she’d looked back over her shoulder, she’d see Sawyer in there. Sweeping the stove, like he had the counter. So she didn’t let herself look. Although it killed her to know she’d hurt him so badly.

He probably thought he was going crazy.

And Willa wished she could help him with that feeling. But she couldn’t. Not really. Not without him thinking she was crazy, too, or worst…

Also, she’d already gotten herself in enough trouble helping him, she reminded herself. Twice. She couldn’t even let her thoughts stray down that path a third time.

She’d said one smart thing this morning, and that was that she had to get the hell up out of here. Not just out of Greenlee Place, but out of Greenlee County all together.

She ran down the hill, and through the valley. Past her father’s willow tree. Over the river, past the River Boys, who were swimming under the manmade bridge. Past the old well with the two black girls playing 1930s handclapping games in darned flour sack dresses.

Past her grandfather, filling out the latest crossword puzzle book in the bench seat of his old cart.

“What’s wrong?” her sister asked, sitting up in her twin bed, when Willa burst into the room.

“Okay, I’m going to pack a bag, for the both of us. And while I do that, you’re going to call Miss Grace and ask her to check in on Marian until we’re settled in a new place and can come back and get her. Then you and me and Trevor are going to leave.”

“What? When?” her sister asked.

“Today,” Willa answered. “We’ve got to get out of here right now.”

Thel shook her head. “I understand your frustration. I’m feeling it, too. But we can’t just leave. We don’t have any money left after Marian cleaned out the account.”

“We’ll use credit cards. I’ve got one with a three thousand dollar limit. We’ll stay in hotels until we find a place. I don’t care. We have to get out of here. We have, too!”

Thel got out of the bed then, taking Willa by the shoulders. “Sis, where is this coming from? I understand you want to get out of here, but you come in here in nothing but your nightshirt, smelling like a brothel, and now you say we got to git.”

Thel’s eyes darkened, the fierce protective older sister once again, even if she was a good five inches shorter than Willa. “Is it Sawyer Grant? Did he do something to you?”

“No…yes…b-but no. It’s m-more like s-something I d-d-did to him, b-b-because he d-d-doesn’t know.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her sister. “It’s Germany. Blowing up in my face.”

“Okay,” Thel said, releasing a careful breath. “Okay…I know we got what some might call a special relationship. I showed up in Germany six years ago, and you didn’t ask me and I didn’t ask you, cuz that’s how the both of us wanted it. But I think it’s time, Sis. Time for you to tell me what happened.”

IN THE END, Willa told her sister everything. Not because she had to, but because at the end of the day, her sister was the only one who would understand. The only one outside of their mother Willa knew could and would believe her.

She told her about running into Sawyer Grant’s undecided spirit. About going against every instinct and becoming his friend, even though she, of all people, should have known better than to get too close with a ghost.

It was just talking, she’d told herself back then, trying to ignore the way her heart sped up every time Sawyer blinked into her life at the hospital. Her giving a confused spirit some company. She regularly reassured herself that she wasn’t like her mother, who not only sought spirits out, but had done things with one. Things that had gained her a second illegitimate daughter with no father the world could see.

But as the summer wore on, somehow her and Sawyer’s friendship grew deeper than expected. Willa found herself rushing through her duties so she could get up to the roof for their nightly conversations. Then she started taking her lunch up there.

Then Sawyer started appearing whenever she was alone. In the empty lounge while she was working on her laptop. In the gym, after sessions, while she was filling out her patient assessments.

Somehow she’d managed to reconcile all of it. Telling herself she and Sawyer were just friends. Truly just friends. Nothing more. Anyways, she was a busy med student with a high-octane fellowship. She didn’t have time for anything that went beyond the long and intimate chats she and Sawyer now regularly shared with each other.

At least that’s what she told herself when she turned down the soldier who’d invited her out for a drink at the end of his strength-training session.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Because of this?” he asked, tipping his chin toward the special weight-lifting arm he was using to pull down the lat bar in front of him.