“Oof.”
Despite trying to keep my expression neutral, I felt the corner of my mouth move into a bitter curl. “Yep. Not a word from her for six years, and then she put her hand out. I’ve gotten used to it. My father, who would never deign to ask me for a dime—he’d rather die—sends his new wife instead. Dell has texted me three times since I’ve been in McBride. She wants me to buy my father a new truck.”
Sawyer blew out a breath. “Jesus. I’m sorry, James.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, my lungs too tight to draw breath to respond. Because Sawyer’s words meant something to me. There was a truth to them that made me feel entirely too vulnerable, as if he could see straight through the carefully constructed facade I’d erected around me.
I fiddled with the edge of the sheet, plucking at a stray thread coming loose from the seam. “I guess what I’m saying is… this life is outside of my comfort zone. I work at one of the most prestigious boutique law firms in Manhattan and rub elbows with attorneys who were raised on yachts with silver pacifiers in their mouths. I’m expected to know the difference between cabernet and merlot when the only alcohol in my house growing up was Coors Light.”
“I had no idea.” I could feel Sawyer’s eyes on me as if studying me up close would yield new information. “Are you glad you took the path you did, or do you wish you’d chosen something else?”
There was no need to think about it really. “I’m beyond thrilled I took the path I did. When I got admitted to Yale Law and had saved up enough money at UConn to afford to actually move to New Haven, it was the best ticket out of my shitty childhood I could have asked for. With that law degree, the sky was the limit for me. I could go anywhere. Even now, I sleep better at night knowing I’ll always be able to find enough work to pay my bills. It was just as much a relief as anything else. Does that mean I want to practice corporate law for the rest of my life?” I shrugged. “Not really.”
He tilted his head to the side, considering me. “What’s your dream scenario?”
I turned and glimpsed his smug grin now that he’d turned the tables on me. He was too cute to smack, but I reached out and pinched his side, causing him to yelp and then laugh before swatting my hand away. We ended up lying closer together, our legs twisted around each other and our hands lazily exploring.
“I like helping people. Sometimes in corporate law it seems less personal. Every once in a while I wish…” I stopped and thought it through. “I wish I’d pursued an opportunity that came my way a few years ago. It was a legal consulting position with an entrepreneurial think tank of sorts. The group offers consulting and business planning to new start-ups.”
He reached out and toyed with the tips of my hair, trying to tuck a few errant strands behind my ear. It took effort not to close my eyes and let myself drift away to the feeling of his fingertips dancing against my scalp.
“Why didn’t you do it?” he asked.
It was an easy answer. “My boyfriend at the time thought it was too risky. The company was a start-up itself, so there was no guarantee it would be steady and lucrative. Meanwhile, I’d just landed a huge client at the firm which pretty much guaranteed my promotion from income to equity partner. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
I shot him a look. “No one walks away from equity partnership at Lanford and Pratt. It’s like winning the lottery.”
“A lottery you no doubt have to work your ass off for first,” he countered. “That’s hardly a lottery. It’s a job.”
“A very lucrative job,” I pointed out.
“But do you love it?”
I thought about the joy that Sawyer took in working at the Sea Sprite. Even the day before, when he’d been crouching in two inches of toilet water trying to tame a wild leak, there’d still been the hint of a smile on his face. He loved this place, he truly did.
Then I thought of what a law professor had once told me about working in BigLaw, how becoming an equity partner was like winning a pie-eating contest where the prize was more pie. I’d thought him wrong at the time. Now I wasn’t so sure. But it was still the path I’d chosen.
“I love the paycheck,” I told him truthfully.
“From a job that’s sucking your soul away,” he said in a fake monster growl. He leaned in and sucked up a mark on my neck, low enough to be hidden by a shirt. I dragged in a breath, losing my train of thought quickly and happy to leave the conversation about my job satisfaction behind.
We tumbled around on the bed, copping feels and kissing every exposed inch of each other’s skin until somehow we found ourselves under the shower spray with soapy dicks clasped in Sawyer’s strong grip. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much sexual action in a twenty-four-hour period. Even with Richard, I didn’t remember this feeling of never being able to get enough of him.
“I have to go take over for poor Karlie,” Sawyer said after we were dried off and dressing again. “Do you want to order something for lunch and go through those boxes of old paperwork together?”
I glanced over at him, surprised by the offer. Only a few hours before, he’d have only let me near those boxes over his cold, dead body. Now, however, he seemed much calmer about the situation. Was it the sex that had stripped away his stress, or had our conversation somehow reminded him I wasn’t out to ruin his life? Regardless, I was relieved there was no longer animosity between us, and more than that, I was happy to see him looking more relaxed in general.
“I’ll head into town pick something up for us to eat and bring it back here,” I offered.
Sawyer began listing off the various places around McBride where I could find us something to eat. “But not Stoler’s because their fish isn’t always fresh. Jem sometimes uses frozen cod which is just… yeah, no. And then there’s Bedwicks which has amazing salads if you’re in the mood for that. If you go there, get me anything with the mustard vinaigrette dressing. If you’re in the mood for a killer sandwich, you can swing by the Nifty Crunch. It’s new and a little trendy, but they have great BLTs and a tasty pasta salad. Tell Katie to throw in some peanut butter cookies, though, because you can’t go to Nifty and not get them.” He continued babbling on about all of the little lunch places in his small town, and it was a bit like watching an unbelievable sitcom or something. At one point, I started laughing.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Do you know everyone in McBride by name?”
He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. “Pretty much. Why? Don’t you know everyone in Manhattan?” He winked and grinned, and it took all of my self-control not to tackle him onto the bed and strip his clothes off again. But we both had jobs to do, and it was time to finally get on with the rest of our day.
14
Sawyer
We entered the lobby and found Karlie exactly where we’d left her a few hours before, nose down in a paperback. The only difference was the giant flower arrangement on the counter in front of her. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if we’d gotten any reservation calls or had any existing guests extend their stay. I’d bartered for some advertising in several Cape visitor guides during the off-season in hopes of helping drive up reservations this summer, but nothing could overcome old, run-down facilities. We’d been slapping Band-Aids on this place too long to continue on this way.