Seaside Nights Part 12

THE NEXT MORNING Sky awoke early to an empty room, with the early-morning sun peering down on her through the gla.s.s ceiling of the rooftop room in Sawyer's house. She rolled over and found a handwritten note on the pillow beside her, and like the one he'd given her the other night with his phone number, it was written on a torn sc.r.a.p of paper. Lying beside it was a single pink Knock Out rose. She smiled as she lifted the rose and inhaled its sweet aroma, then read the note.

Crying out in your movements. Graceful, longing, hanging by a thread. The longing I see. Set it free, lovely. Come to me.

She marveled again at his words, wondering if he was the P-town poet. Turning the paper over, she found another note, written less hastily, every letter carefully formed.

You were sleeping so soundly I couldn't bear to wake you. There's coffee on the counter and clean towels in the bathroom. I'm sure by the time you wake up I'll be inside, but if not, join me? S.

She walked naked to the windows overlooking the water and noticed a few pencils and pens and a sc.r.a.p of paper against the wall. He'd said this was where he wrote songs, and she imagined him sitting by the window, overlooking the sunset as he scrawled verse after verse. She gazed out the window and caught sight of Sawyer down on the beach. His shoulders were rounded forward, his hands fisted, as he punched the air. He bounced on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, the way she'd seen fighters do on television. He was s.h.i.+rtless, and from her vantage point, the words on his back blurred together, shadows of darkness inked into his skin.

She watched him with interest as he fought an invisible contender. She pressed the note to her chest. She hadn't ever woken up alone in a man's house before, and strangely, she didn't feel as though she'd been abandoned. Sawyer intrigued her. There were so many layers to him. He'd cherished every inch of her body last night with tenderness and had taken her equally as roughly and possessively in the wee hours of the morning, somehow knowing exactly when or what she'd needed and wanted with every touch.

She gazed out the window as Sawyer turned toward the house. Even from so far away she could tell he was smiling as he lifted his hand in a similar wave to the one he'd given her outside her window in P-town. She felt a pang of excitement race through her and then realized she was standing there naked. A s.h.i.+ver of embarra.s.sment slid over her and just as quickly melted away.

After a moment he went back to fighting the invisible opponent.

He was a fighter.

But boy did he know how to love a woman.

Twenty minutes later she'd showered and used his toothpaste on her finger as a toothbrush as best she could. She dressed in her clothes from the night before and headed out to greet the day and find the man who had set her head spinning. As she descended the stairs she realized that there were substantial railings on both sides that she hadn't noticed last night. For his father, she a.s.sumed, and she wondered if he could still navigate the stairs.

How had she missed the enormous gaping hole that was cordoned off in the center of the house between the living room and the kitchen? And what on earth was it for? Outside, she realized just how consumed by their pa.s.sion she must have been, because she also hadn't noticed the wheelchair ramp beside the steps, or the heavy railings on the steps there, either. She walked around the back of the house and found more recently installed ramps, one leading to the patio doors, another to the first level of the deck, and it looked as though another unfinished ramp ran between the first and second levels of the deck. Sawyer had obviously been hard at work to prepare the house for his father, and that touched her even deeper.

She headed over the dunes. The sand held the chill of early morning beneath her bare feet. The sounds of the waves met her as she walked over the top of the dune and Sawyer came into focus. He faced the water, one powerful leg planted in the sand, his other foot rested against his inner thigh. From the rear she could see his elbows and knew his hands were pressed together. She had done yoga for many years, but was surprised to see a man as big and strong as Sawyer-a fighter-practicing something so pa.s.sive. In her mind, she pictured fighters in constant motion, spirals of tension wound tightly together and bound by anger. Sawyer was proving her wrong at every turn.

In an effort not to distract him, she walked a little closer, then sank silently down to the sand and watched him. Sky was as taken with a hot male body as the next woman, but she was even more drawn to who a person was inside, and she liked who Sawyer was. When he'd said that it took strength to allow herself to be weak, it had resonated with her in a way that she hadn't fully realized until later, when he'd slept soundly behind her, holding her in his arms. She'd felt feminine and protected. She'd always enjoyed her femininity, but all around her society sent messages that women were supposed to be strong.

As she watched Sawyer standing as stable as a mountain in front of her, the memory of his touch lingered on her skin.

She guessed she wanted to have her cake and eat it, too, because she wanted her own business and to know that she was building a future doing the things she enjoyed. She wanted to be respected and treated as the smart, creative person she was-but she also reveled in the feeling of being soft and feminine in Sawyer's arms. Cared for and protected. The fact that she was getting tired of being protected by her brothers wasn't lost on her. Maybe this was what happened when younger sisters began spreading their wings.

Sky wasn't sure, but for now she had other things on her mind. Wanting to be protected was a world away from knowing the guy she spent the night with walked willingly into a boxing ring to punch and be punched. Her stomach knotted with the thought. She had been pus.h.i.+ng away thoughts of his career for two days. Before they'd slept together she was able to separate what he did from who he was. She realized, as she sat there watching him with a gentle breeze sweeping off the bay and seabirds pecking at the sand, that she'd probably handled things backward. She should have given his career serious thought before she'd opened her body, and her heart, to him.

Now her thoughts were blurred by the memory of his touch, the sweet things he whispered in her ear, the look of want and need, appreciation and l.u.s.t, that filled his eyes when they were making love-and the other parts of her that he'd already filled.

SAWYER SENSED SKY'S presence before he heard the sweet little sigh that followed her deep inhalation. He hadn't wanted to leave her alone this morning, but he'd been too revved up to lie beside her. He'd already kept her up half the night, and he knew she probably had things she had to do today. If he had lain beside her for one minute more, he wouldn't have been able to resist taking her in his arms and making love to her again. And after his run, when he'd seen her standing naked in the window, his body had reacted even more strongly. He'd had to rely on yoga just to center himself and calm down.

He lowered his foot to the sand and turned to find her gorgeous eyes trained on him, spurring a rush of memories of her sweet sounds and the way she'd writhed beneath him, arching her back, angling her hips so she could take him deeper. He crossed his arms and ran his fingers over the crescent-shaped scars from her fingernails on the backs of his biceps.

"Good morning," he said as he leaned in to kiss her. He'd loved waking up with her in his arms and seeing her smiling face now. And the way she was looking at him, like she felt the same pull he did, made his chest feel as though it might burst.

"Hi," she said in a breathy, soft voice.

He knew he'd always think of that voice as her morning voice. She spoke with the tone of a satisfied lover and the s.h.i.+ver of a new one full of hope.

"Thank you for the rose and the note."

He draped an arm over her shoulder, and it felt natural when she rested her head against him. "I'm glad you liked them, because, Sky, I really like you."

"I really like you, too," she said, meeting his gaze. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She turned to face him, and she looked so beautiful that he had to press his mouth to hers again.

"Sorry," he said as he brushed her hair over her shoulder. "You looked so beautiful, and you smell so good...and I've thought about kissing you all morning."

Her lips curved into a smile that sparkled in her eyes. "You're apologizing for kissing me? More, please." She leaned forward with a sultry look in her eyes.

He could kiss her for hours, get lost in her taste, her warmth, and the s.e.xy little sounds of appreciation that slipped from her lips. When they finally parted, it took a moment for her to come back into focus, and he could tell by her heavy lids that she was still hovering in a l.u.s.tful cloud, too.

He pressed his hand to her cheek. "How can your kisses transport me so far away?" He tipped her chin up and kissed her again, softer this time. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Ask you?" she whispered, making him smile.

"You said you had something to ask me."

"Oh. Right." Her cheeks flushed. "Um...The note you left for me and what you said last night when you held me. Are you...? I mean, is it you...?" She drew in a breath and exhaled slowly before meeting his gaze again. "Are you the P-town poet?"

"I don't know what I was expecting you to ask, but it wasn't that." He gazed out at the water, wondering what in the heck she was talking about. "I don't know anything about a P-town poet, but I'm pretty sure I'm not him."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure? Because there are so many similarities, that I just thought..."

"I think I would know if I were a poet. It's kind of cool to know that you think my songwriting is poetic, though."

"Sorry. It's just that your words are so powerful. You're like this incredible mix of strength and tenderness."

He pulled her in closer and kissed her again. "I'm a man. I should be hard, rough, and callous."

She laughed. "Oh, you're hard, all right." She dropped her eyes to his lap with a mischievous grin.

"You are a clever girl, aren't you?" He kissed her again, lowering her back to the sand as she laughed.

"I speak the truth," she challenged.

"And I'm proud of it." He pressed his hips against her thigh.

Her eyes widened with feigned innocence. "Oh, my, you big strong man." She batted her thick lashes. "Maybe you should show me how proud you are." She wound her arms around his neck, and he showered her lips, jaw, and neck with kisses, inciting another heart-tugging giggle.

They made out like teenagers, kissing and necking on the beach until a family came walking over the dunes down a ways from them, but close enough to see them. Two towheaded boys ran toward the water laughing excitedly.

Sawyer helped Sky up from the sand. Her cheeks were pink from his whiskers. He rubbed his jaw. "I should probably shave this off, huh?"

"I love your scruff." She touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes, soaking it in.

"I don't want to scratch up your beautiful face."

She went up on her toes and said, "Scratch me up, baby."

He tugged her in close again. "What are your plans today?"

She shrugged. "Let's see...Go home and feed Merlin, change into clean clothes, do some painting at the shop, and look for more chimes and maybe a new chair for the shop. I live a very exciting life."

"Trust me, exciting is overrated. Happy is much better."

She pressed her lips to his chest. "Everything you say is poetic."

He draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked toward the house.

"That's not poetic. It's just the truth."

"It's also poetic."

"You like me, so you hear more than the words I say."

She gazed up at him with confusion in her eyes. His hand slid down her arm, and he laced their fingers together.

"You listen with your heart, Sky. You're a true romantic."

"Maybe," she said. "But I don't know how to listen any other way, and even that was poetic. I've never met anyone like you, Sawyer. You make me feel things I never felt before, and..."

"And?"

She lowered her voice and said, "And do things that I don't usually do with a guy after knowing him for such a short time."

"Sky, you can't possibly know how much it means to me that you trust me enough to be an intimate part of your life. You should know that I'm not a guy who hooks up with every woman I come across."

"I didn't mean that-"

"I know. But I want you to know this. I'm a pretty private guy. I like my solitude, and..." He paused, trying to figure out how much he should reveal. One look in her trusting eyes and he knew he couldn't hold anything back. "I'm not a saint, but I haven't been the kind of guy that sleeps around for a very long time, and I think I've pretty well sowed any wild oats I might have had."

She searched his eyes, and he hoped she saw the sincerity in them.

"I knew you were nervous when I first carried you upstairs, and I realize that was presumptuous of me. I'm sorry if you felt at all rushed. I was so caught up in you-"

She shook her head, and her lips curved into the sweet smile that he already couldn't imagine living without. "I think I rushed myself, but by the time we came together last night, everything felt perfect."

Relief washed through him. "For me, too, and I'm sorry that I was outside when you woke up, but if I had stayed beside you, I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off of you."

"That's about the best reason I can imagine to be left alone. Actually, it was better. You gave me a chance to breathe. We skipped the whole awkward morning-after thing, and I got to see how clean you keep your bathroom." She arched a brow. "Impressive."

"If a clean bathroom is impressive to you, wait until you see how spotless my gym is." He expected her to laugh, but as her smile faltered and her eyes skipped away from his, he knew he'd struck a nerve.

"You don't like clean gyms?" he said to lighten the mood, knowing she was still wrestling with his career. She didn't respond, and that worried him. "Sky, talk to me. If you can't handle what I do for a living, please tell me."

When she looked up at him, he saw how conflicted she was and felt it like a kick to the gut. "Why did you sleep with me if you're unsure?"

"Because I really like you, Sawyer, and I guess I just pushed the whole fighting thing away. It doesn't even feel real to me."

"Oh, it's real all right, Sky. It's very real."

"I get that, and I'm sorry. It's just that I've seen you play your guitar, and I've spent time hanging out with you. Heck, I saw you do yoga on the beach, and that's about as pa.s.sive as it gets."

"Yoga centers me." He hated how frustrated he sounded, but he'd opened his heart for the first time ever. Sky was intelligent and sweet. She was creative and thoughtful, and she obviously put family first, just as he did. He'd never felt this strong of a connection before. She saw the world through the same lens he did-except with regard to his career-and he didn't want to think about losing her because of his career.

"Yoga is a way to come down from the high of my workout. Before you woke up, I did a hundred push-ups, two hundred sit-ups, a weight workout, and I went for an eight-mile run."

"And you punched the air," she added wistfully.

He looked at her in confusion.

"I saw you on the beach. You were punching the air."

He pulled her in close and kissed her again, despite the string of doubt hanging between them. "You're so d.a.m.n cute, Sky. Shadowboxing. It's a way to warm up, or in this morning's case, to release energy."

She pressed her forehead to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. He held her, memorizing the feel of her. If he took her home and she decided that this was all they'd have, he wanted to remember the feel of her against him. How the h.e.l.l she'd had such a big impact on him so fast, he had no idea. But he wasn't about to pick it apart to figure it out. He soaked in her scent, the feel of her soft curves against his hard body, and he hoped-holy h.e.l.l did he hope-that she'd come around and give him a chance.

Chapter Eleven.

SKY FILLED MERLIN'S bowls with fresh food and water and crouched beside the kitchen counter to love him up. He purred as he rubbed against her. Sawyer had dropped her off a few minutes ago, and her head was still spinning from their conversation.

"I know that he told me he was a boxer before we slept together, but that's not the point," she said to Merlin, who stared at her like she was talking to him about the virtues of cat food.

"Ha!" Jenna said as she came through the screen door. "I told you she slept with him."

Bella and Amy followed her in, each of them wearing sundresses over their bathing suits, their go-to summer outfits.

"Did the fact that I didn't come home last night clue you in?" Sky asked with a laugh.

Jenna bent down and petted Merlin. "h.e.l.lo, baby boy. Did Mama give you all the details on her hot s.e.x G.o.d of a boyfriend?"

Bella snagged a pretzel from the jar on the counter and pointed it at Sky. "You have that freshly f.u.c.ked look, but it's rough around the edges, like maybe he wasn't as good as we hoped he would be?"

"I didn't know we were hoping for good s.e.x." Sky flopped down on the couch with a loud sigh. "To answer your curiosity, he was a-ma-zing in bed, thank you very much."

Bella tapped her chin. "I remember a certain someone who said that when she fell for a guy, she was going to wait to have s.e.x."