What a Bride Wants (6 page)

“
Now is good.” That wasn’t too pushy, was it? She was just being accommodating.

Sawyer
’s gaze was very intent. “Trouble is, lust can strip your control. Make you vulnerable. Make you want to do naughty things in a public park with half a dozen people looking on. You ready for that, Ella?”

Chances were he
’d just hit a kink she never knew she had, what with the tight knot of heat forming in her belly and all. “So if I were to slide on over and straddle your legs and sit in your lap and just nibble on something...”

“
We might both learn something.”

Ella was already moving, skirting the food, straddling his legs so that she was kneeling above him at first before sitting herself tentatively just above his knees.

“Closer,” he ordered gruffly.

And…
oh!
Well.

“
Better?”

“
You’re really, um, hard-bodied. And warm. Phew.”

“
We’ve been sitting in the sun.”

Yeah,
winter sun. In the snow. Minus double-digit degrees.

“
Would you like to take the lead?” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear while her body went soft and pliant. “Or do you want me to do it?”

“
You.” Chances were she could learn something. “You lead.”

With his lips he drew a lingering path from her ear to her lips, stopping at the edge of them so she could draw breath and prepare. He still leant back on his hands, leaving her a way out should she want to take it. She liked that about him. And then he lifted his knees and slid her more snugly into his lap, the smile in his eyes as cheeky as the maneuver.

“You’ve done this before,” she accused.

“
You wanted experience.”

True.
“What else you got?”

“
This.” His next move was pure, slow-motion beauty as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Nothing but a tease and a torment, not even all that warm. And then his lips were on her again, opening, coaxing, and
now
they were warm, and Ella responded with a gasp and a great big need for more.

He was good at kissing, better than good, and his lips tasted like salted toffee
, and his big hand was gentle as he cupped her jaw and took from her whatever the hell he had a mind to take.

A lazy taste. A hint of teeth against the curve of her lip and it was effective. So,
so
effective, and she shifted against him and gave in to the temptation to wrap her arms around his neck and slide a little deeper into the moment.

There was no park. No people who might be watching.

She’d wanted lust, wanted to know the strength of it and what it could do. She never imagined that it could make the world around her disappear.

And then his arm came around her waist and he shifted beneath her until he had her pressed hard against him, positioned just right for—

She was whimpering again. She was an undulating, whimpering woman and her body knew exactly what it wanted to do with him, even if some small fragment of her mind was trying to tell her something else.

“
Not here.” His voice was gruff and halfway to pleading. “Ella, pull back. Public park. Children.”

“
What about them? Pregnancy is very unlikely; you’re not even naked yet.”

“
Children
in the park
.” His hand slid to her neck, his thumb tracing circles behind one ear, just beneath her woolly hat. He slid it down her back in what was probably meant to be soothing fashion. Instead, she rode the rough pressure of it all the way down to her hip.

And then he tipped her sideways, tipped her onto her back an
d she was staring up at the sky and then at Sawyer, who’d opted to sit up and reach for the pie she hadn’t yet eaten. He held it out toward her.

A
s if pie could compete with the taste of
him
.

She sat up and took it grudgingly.

He smiled at that. “There are a dozen people watching us. If you were wanting your father to hear about our wild display of public affection, consider it done.”

“
Oh.” She glanced around. They had indeed attracted plenty of attention. “I’m sorry about your reputation. It’s probably just been trashed.”

“
How so?”

“
See, I’ve never been quite so…” Ella searched for the right word. Crazy? Reckless?
Forward?
Yeah, she didn’t feel like mentioning any of those. “I’ve never been quite so
enthusiastic
in my approval of someone before. And you’re not from around here. Chances are you’ll be seen as a troublemaker, just dying to lead me astray.
Are
you dying to lead me astray?”

“
I don’t know about the
dying
. That’s something I’d rather avoid. Are you going to eat that pie?”

“
No.” Sawyer’s stomach was a bottomless pit, but she didn’t hand him her pie. Instead, she held it firmly out of arm’s reach, an action which served only to amuse him more. “Are you going to lead me astray?”

“
Yes.” He smiled sweet and lazy. “I do believe I’m inclined that way.”

“
Oh, good.” Ella smiled back, bright as a daisy, and handed him the pie.

There was a downside to taking up with Marietta’s Ella Grace Emerson, Sawyer discovered, when he arrived for his shift at the saloon three days later. Sawyer had known they were making their date public when they’d had it in the park in full view of anyone with eyes to see. They’d met for coffee the day after that, and this morning Ella had been in Marietta getting parts for something or other so he’d met her at Ginny’s Café for an early lunch. Which seemed to suggest to some people that Ella had spent the night with him.

He
’d thought he’d be able to handle it, handle her.

He
’d been wrong.

He
tried to ignore the renewed interest in his good self and his background, but halfway into his shift Mardie was slanting him worried glances and Sawyer was damn glad that Reese wasn’t around to watch him grow clipped with the customers and free with his scowl.

The fine folk of Marietta were nosy, he understood that.

They were protective, he understood that too. They wanted to know if he was good enough for their Ella Grace.

And that was
n’t a question he wanted to answer.

The
picnic had gone well. Sawyer liked Ella Grace Emerson, really liked her. They’d strolled through the park after lunch. He’d kissed her again, standing up this time, in the hope of better control.

Yesterday after lunch h
e’d ended up pinning her against a tree, the rough bark digging into his fingers as he slaked his hunger, and hers, because he hadn’t been alone in his passion, oh no. Ella Grace had matched him gasp for soaring gasp.

H
e wanted to know what she was like first thing in the morning. He wanted to see her astride a horse. Tending her cows. He just plain
wanted
.

And then he wondered what it might be like to have
Ella at his side on a more permanent basis and that scared him, that thought, because sooner or later his family would find out and his family was seriously dysfunctional, and exposing a woman to that wasn’t something he ever wanted to do.

“
Hey, Aussie.” Mardie didn’t corner him until the end of the night when she was counting cash and Sawyer was tallying up the beverages that had gone over the bar. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“
Nothing’s wrong.”

“
Sawyer, sweetie, you’re a little more transparent than you think. You’ve been brooding half the night. Is it Ella? I heard about lunch.”

“
Everyone heard about lunch.”

“
So? Ella got what she wanted. You got what you wanted. Sounds like a fine time was had by all.”

Sawye
r shrugged. He started measuring the spill in the beer trays into a stainless steel bucket. They’d had a good night when it came to beer sales but there was more spill than usual. “How many new kegs did the boss tap tonight?”

“
Three. And he swapped out the new Jimmy’s Creek Blonde before it was due, because a couple of our regulars thought it tasted off.”

“
He tip those drinks down the sink or did they go into the spill?”

“
Didn’t notice.”

Sawyer figured they
had
probably gone into the spill and that the trouble with the Blonde keg would account for the extra.

“
Spill volumes make more sense now?” asked Mardie.

“
Yeah, we’re square.”

“
I swear, under all that lazy charm you’re as thorough as Reese.”

“
Good to know.”

Sawyer hadn
’t changed his name. No matter where he went, he never did that. If Reese or the bar’s owner, Jason Grey, wanted to search for Cameron Sawyer on the Internet and start putting two and two together, the information would be there. Youngest son of international brewery magnate Laurence Sawyer. Youngest son of Catherine Allbright-Sawyer. Brother of Richard Sawyer, the golden child who was brewery heir and rampant psychopath...

Though may
be that last bit wasn’t on the Web. Yet.

Yeah, Cameron Sawyer had a heritage and a history
all right.

But it wasn
’t one he wanted to share.

Mardie
was still frowning at him and this time he called her on it. “What? I’m good, Mardie. I’m fine.”

“
You really don’t like talking about yourself much, do you? You don’t like people getting up in your business.”

“
Does anyone?”

“
Is that what got you so terse with people tonight?”

“
Probably.” Sawyer met Mardie’s gaze square on. “Yes.”

Mardie
sighed. “You’re a nice guy, Sawyer. Mind you, I’m the worst judge of men in the world.”

Sawyer
felt his lips hitch toward a smile. “Thanks.”

“
My point
being
that if you have something to hide I’m not going to pry. People are entitled to their secrets. But.”

“
There’s always a
but.
”

“
But
, if you ever did happen to fall into a sharing mood, I can personally vouch for Ella as someone who knows how to listen. Someone who can keep her mouth shut and just be there for a person. She did that for me, and we weren’t best friends to begin with, if that’s what you’re thinking. I used to have other friends. Fair-weather friends who didn’t even try to stick around when my going got ugly.”

“
You’re not helping. I need to like Ella
less
, not more.”

“
Oh… well, why didn’t you say so? I’m sure I can help you there. Ella’s opinionated, she doesn’t tolerate fools, she can buy and sell you and chances are she’s smarter than you. If she is, she’ll let you know.”

Sawyer grinned.

Mardie laughed. “It’s not working, is it?”

“
What do you mean it’s not working? I’m daunted. Dismayed.”

“
Try saying that
without
the goofy grin on your face.” Mardie shook her head. “Sawyer, my friend, when it comes to Ella Grace, you are well on your way to gone.”

Maybe
Mardie’s words were meant to be playful, but after they’d finished for the night and left lock-up to the taciturn Jason Grey… after he’d seen Mardie to her car and watched her pull out onto the road… Sawyer headed walked the few blocks to the park again, rather than to his pickup.

So far he
’d had three dates with Ella, though you could hardly call a stroll down Bramble Lane and a mug of hot chocolate afterwards a date. A man
couldn’t
be thinking of forever after only three dates. It was too soon, way too fast. Not even on the menu. That kind of thinking was crazy in more ways than one.

His breath huffed white and his
throat stung with the sub-zero air, and Sawyer hunched down into his jacket and found a bench to sit on, before pulling out his phone and looking up what time it was in Spain. Lunchtime. A good time to call. He took his time thinking about what he might say, and whether it was wise to ring at all, then he found a number and dialed it and waited. He needed to talk to someone who understood the consequences of him introducing a woman to his family. Someone who wasn’t family. Preferably a woman who’d been there, done that.

He needed to talk to Zoey.

‘Cameron!” She always sounded glad to hear from him, and he adored her for that. He always remembered why he’d fallen for her in the first place when she did that.

“
Zoo. How’s things?”

“
Cameron, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Zoo?” It was an old tease, and a hauntingly familiar reply, and he felt himself unwind just a bit because of it. “Maya’s six now. And Amalie four. How did that happen? And Manuel has just bought us a summer house in Andalusia. I’m well, Cameron. We’re all well. And you?”

Zoey
had got married eventually, to a man who adored her. She had two little girls, dark eyed and happy. She had a good life.

He shouldn
’t have called.

‘
I’m well, Zoey.” He was, wasn’t he? “I’m fine.”

“
Cameron.” Zoey had the gentlest scolding voice in the world. Effective though. “I can hear that you’re not.”

“
I met a girl.”

Zoe
y’s silence weighed heavily on him. Sawyer stared at the snow clad trees, at the shadows cast in their wake and then at the stars in the sky, and waited while Zoey found her voice.

“
You can’t lock your heart away forever, my friend,” she offered quietly. “You have too much to give. What’s she like?”

“
She’s fearless, Zoey. And I never want to see that taken from her.”

More silence.

“He’s still there. Doing what he does.” His brother. Richard Sawyer, family golden boy. Protected by family money and their father’s clout. Above the law. Barely constrained by it. And driven by passion after passion, one of which was to destroy anything and everything his younger brother held dear. Zoey had been in Richard’s sights once. Because Cameron had claimed her. Because Richard had wanted her.

And Zoe
y had paid a hefty price.

“
I don’t know what to do.”