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Carmen and Sawyer spent the rest of the day sequestered in his apartment, adhering to a rotating schedule of naps, talking, and redressing after they tore each other’s clothing off. After a long shower, in which the spray illustrated which of Carmen’s muscles ached the most, she went to the kitchen to find Sawyer in front of the stove—dressed in nothing but black boxer briefs.
Carmen leaned on the doorjamb for a moment and soaked in the moment’s wondrousness. The radio released soft acoustic strains into the bacon-scented air. Sawyer’s deep voice hummed along, slightly off-key, above the crackle of grease.
“Is this real, or did I walk onto the set of a women’s porno?” Carmen asked after a moment.
“Well”—Sawyer turned and leered at her, brandishing a spatula with a quick hip thrust for good measure—“could be both if you play your cards right.”
She sauntered over to him. His lips were smooth and salty.
“Mmmm, sampling, were you?”
“Had to.” He dropped kisses down the hollow of her throat. Nipped at her jaw. “I’m starving. I have had a hectic afternoon.”
She ignored the comment. “I had a thought this afternoon while you were snoring away.”
“I don’t snore.” He feigned a dark scowl and ran his fingers over her ribs until she squealed.
“Shh, I’m talking.” Carmen put a finger to his mouth. He promptly nipped it.
“Bossy.” A mischievous gleam lit in the depths of his blue eyes, but he quieted.
“I have never done anything like this,” Carmen said.
“Ate bacon in the nude? You’re fine. The real danger is in frying it.” He gestured down at his bare chest.
Carmen sighed and replaced the finger across his mouth. “I’m only saying, I want you to know this is all new for me.”
Sawyer’s mouth curved; the fullness of his lower lip plush against her fingertip. “I sort of figured.” He reached for her, smoothing both hands over her hair. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” he whispered.
“Thank you for making it so worth my while.” Carmen stretched up to kiss him again.
“My turn to be bossy.” Sawyer gripped her by the hips and shuffled her out of the way. Pulling out one of the barstools, he pointed at it. “Sit.”
Carmen gave him a salute and dropped to the seat, helpless to hide the grin on her face.
Sawyer ignored her. He turned away and bent over, digging through the deepest recesses of the fridge. “Damn,” he muttered from inside the appliance.
Carmen tipped her head to the side, unabashedly enjoying the view he was offering her. “What are you looking for?”
“That wine.”
“Huh?”
“The mystery wine? I thought it was in here.”
“Oh. That wine.” Carmen traced a finger over one of the blue veins on the island’s surface, following its path through the wood. “Well, first of all, it was red, so putting it in the fridge is wrong. Second of all . . . I drank it.”
Sawyer straightened, turning to her slowly, both eyebrows cocked.” All of it?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?” he repeated. “Years of intrigue, gone just like that?” He snapped his fingers in punctuation.
“Well.” Carmen shrugged. “A smart man doesn’t leave a bottle of wine alone with an angry woman.”
“Touché. I’ll make coffee instead.”
“Sawyer, it’s like nine p.m.”
Sawyer made a noise that Carmen could only call a scoff. “And you call me old. Don’t you think we did enough to wear off any excess energy?”
Carmen chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, allowing her eyes to travel the length of his chest and back up to his mouth.
“I’m actually still feeling pretty energized myself,” she said and reached out to hook her finger into the waistband of his boxers. “Frisky, you might even say.”
Sawyer released a low growl as Carmen tugged him closer by his underwear. His large body came up against hers, inch by inch, trapping her between the island and his bulk. A thick, hard weight settled against her belly. Sawyer grinned down at her, and Carmen giggled. “Well, that didn’t take much.”
“I’ve been halfway up since you walked into the kitchen. Now, how was it you said you were feeling?”
Carmen sucked her bottom lip. “Frisky?”
Sawyer ground his hips against her. “Frisky, eh? Well, I wouldn’t want you to be too wide awake to sleep tonight.”
Carmen let out a squeal as Sawyer seized her by the hips and swung her up onto the counter. With a growl, he followed her up, pushing her down, covering her, claiming her with his mouth and roaming hands.
****
A RAY OF SUNLIGHT PUNCHED through the window and into her eyes the moment Carmen forced them open the next morning. She groaned. After a day indoors spent in blissful ignorance of reality, she was no longer sure she was equipped to deal with such a thing as daylight.
Sawyer sprawled beside her, still out cold. On his back with his face turned toward Carmen, one arm propped behind his head, he looked young and deceptively sweet—except, perhaps, for the bite mark bright on the curve of his muscled shoulder. Carmen clamped a hand over her mouth to quell the giddy noise that clawed at her throat, then climbed out of bed. Sawyer’s shirt from the night before was hanging off the lamp on the dresser. Carmen lifted it free and slipped it over her head, huffing in the delicious scent of him.
She was digging through the fridge on a quest for something edible when the door in the hallway slammed shut. Carmen jumped, then froze. Please be Sawyer, please be Sawyer, she chanted to herself.
“Damn it, Sawyer!” Dan’s deep voice boomed around the corner. “You are a procrastinating ass. Why aren’t you working on that poor girl’s car?”
Horror washed through Carmen. She stood like a deer caught in headlights. Trapped. Sex-rumpled, pantie-clad, and trapped.
A thud vibrated the floor as heavy boots hit the mat. “I understand you’re nursing a crush, but com—” Dan’s voice trailed off into an awkward low hum as he rounded the corner. He jerked his eyes away from her and cleared his throat. “Good morning, Carmen.”
“Good morning, Daniel,” Carmen chirped. She crouched a bit, the fridge door the only shield between her and incinerating embarrassment. She bullied a bright smile onto her face and stoically ignored the way her nipples were hardening in the cool air from the fridge. “How are you today?”
Dan studied the ceiling with avid, unfailing interest. “I’ve got doughnuts,” he said.
Carmen’s emotions swung between hysterical laughter and the urge to cry. “I’m just going to make coffee,” she supplied, but did not move. Neither of them did. Sawyer, bless his heart, chose that moment to saunter up behind his father, shirtless and scratching his chest. His long hair was somehow tangled all over his chest and simultaneously stuck up in the air. It wouldn’t surprise Carmen if a family of small rodents had made a nest in it. He met Carmen’s gaze over his dad’s shoulder, and his eyes widened. For a second, she thought the laughter dancing in his eyes would break loose.
“Oh, shit,” he mouthed silently, pointing at his dad’s back. Carmen widened her eyes at him, doing her best to plead for help without using words.
“Hey, Pop.” Sawyer clapped a hand on his dad’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. Can you help me for a second in the living room?”
Dan spun with an audible sigh of relief. “Christ, yes.” The skin that peaked above his beard glowed bright pink. He nearly tripped over Sawyer in his haste to follow him to the other room. As soon as their broad backs disappeared, Carmen sprinted down the hall to the bathroom.
She came back with her clothing, if not her composure, in place as Sawyer attempted to explain to Dan why he had needed help to move the couch into a more “feng shui” position.
“What the fuck is feng shui?” Dan asked, wincing when Carmen walked into the room. “Oh, sorry, Carmen. Pardon my French.”
Carmen laughed and went to the cupboard, relieved to see Sawyer had started the coffeepot. She busied herself taking down mugs and retrieving the cream from the fridge. “I took French for five years; I don’t remember learning that word.”
Dan winked at her and then went back to harassing his son about the couch. “You could have dragged it over to where you wanted it,” he said.
Sawyer shook his head. “Too hard on the legs.”
“Your legs or the couch’s?” Dan shook his head, a scowl on his dark features. “The thing is twenty years old for fu—crap sakes.”
“Obviously, not my legs.” Sawyer stuck one of the bare limbs in question out and flexed his calf muscle for them to admire. He still wore nothing but boxers. The lack of garments did not seem to phase him one bit, whereas Carmen’s face still burned from her near brush with public exposure.
Carmen turned to the cupboard, using the motion of taking out mugs to hide her smile. “So, you got the sofa moved all right, gentlemen?” she asked over her shoulder. “You don’t need my help?” She went to sit across from Sawyer, who moaned and buried his face in his hands. His dad, happy to walk the path she laid out for his next tangent, began to rail on the laziness of “young people.” Carmen caught Sawyer’s eye and winked.
Content to sit and sip her coffee, Carmen did her best to follow the conversation as talk shifted from town politics to the garage, and then to Sam.
“He said the doc didn’t make it to the room on time. Sammy ended up delivering the baby himself.” A note of pride tugged on Dan’s voice.
“Sam is your brother, right?” Carmen looked at Sawyer for confirmation. She wanted to check. She had heard Sawyer mention his older brother’s name a few times, but he hadn’t yet told her too much about the oldest Stevenson sibling. There had also been a Noah, but she thought he was a cousin.
He nodded. “Yes. Older brother.”
“What does he do?” she sat back, cradling her mug to her chest.
“He’s a nurse,” Sawyer replied without taking his eyes off his father.
“Yeah,” Dan grunted, selecting a powdered doughnut from the box. “Maybe this will make him realize he should go back to school.”
“Why would he do that, Pop?” The strained quality of Sawyer’s tone belied that this was not the first occasion the topic had arisen. “Sam is happy with his job.”
“I know.” The plaid fabric of Dan’s shirt stretched taut across his wide shoulders as he shrugged. “I just think he should go all the way. Be a doctor.”
Sawyer crossed his arms, a scowl forming between his brows. “That’s not what he wants. Why can’t you leave him be?”
“Because”—Dan straightened on his stool—“one day when you become a parent, you’ll be like all the rest of us fools and want nothing more than for your children to reach their full potential.”
Sawyer opened his mouth, pain and anger blazing behind his blue eyes. Then he closed it again. The set of his jaw assured her he was not about to chime in and agree with his father. Dan seemed to swallow the last of his words; it was obvious he regretted them instantly, and his eyes flicked up to his son’s face. Something unsaid passed between them, and Carmen’s thoughts went to the box of baby things in the other room.
“And here I thought that parents wanted nothing more than for their children to be happy and healthy,” Sawyer said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Nurses are amazing people,” she interrupted, talking over top of Sawyer. There was something in the set of his mouth that told her he would not roll over on the issue.
“They save lives and bring comfort to their patients every day. Give more of themselves than any of us ever realize.” Carmen gave Dan a smile she saved especially for parents who wanted to argue about their children’s grades. Sugary sweet and completely fabricated. “I think everyone has a calling in life. My sister, Marcy, put herself through school while raising twins on her own.” Her voice thickened with the swell of pride she always felt when she told Marcy’s story, and she swallowed. “She is in the medical field as well, though in a different capacity. Some callings require a particular sort of person.”
“Yeah.” Sawyer drew a deep breath in through his nose. Stepping up behind her, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Like being a teacher.”
Carmen did not miss the way Dan’s brows rose at the ease with which Sawyer embraced her. He looked as if he wished to say more, but surprised her by merely nodding. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t be so hard on the boy.” A thick, stub-nailed finger pressed at the dusty trail of white sugar littering the countertop. “I am proud, don’t get me wrong.” He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked the powder. “Of both of you assholes. He’s always been such a smart guy, is all. I’ll go easier on him.”
Behind her, Sawyer let out a strangled squeak. Carmen gasped, the intake of air bringing a mouthful of coffee with it. Images of her and Sawyer the previous night flashed behind her eyes. God, they had wiped the counter, right? They had, hadn’t they? The hot liquid scorched her esophagus. She sputtered, her throat seizing as tears burned her eyes.
Sawyer and Dan both jumped to their feet in alarm. After a round of unhelpful back pounding, Dan poured her a glass of water and put it in her hands.
“Thanks,” Carmen rasped once she was at last able to draw breath. Sawyer, his lips pressed so tightly together, the edges had gone white, refused to meet her gaze.
Once he was sure she would not perish, Dan circled back to the original rant he had started.
“We’re going to get your car going, Carmen,” he assured her, though she had not mentioned or even thought of the car since yesterday.
Carmen shrugged. “I know you will.”
“The part will be here Monday,” Sawyer grumbled. “I told you. I’ll get it done.”
“All right.” Dan threw back the dredges of his coffee. “Well, don’t forget the barbeque tonight.” His eyes fell on Carmen, and his moustache twitched itself into a smile. “You’re coming.”
It was not a question. Carmen raised the flat of her hand to her brow. “Yes, sir.”
“Sawyer.”
“Dad.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Dan smacked him gently on the cheek and left the kitchen.
When the door clicked shut, Carmen whirled on Sawyer. “Oh my God.” She clasped one hand to her mouth and used the other to hold her ribs together in case they split with the internal pressure of her laughter.
“I know,” he wheezed, shaking. The sort with so much force it cannot find an outlet and takes over the entire body.
“He licked it.” She gasped through her fingers before she collapsed on the floor, tears running down her face. “Oh no, oh no.”