Page 20

Chapter 20

McCoy

“You know this is completely out of our way, right?”

Coy flicked on the blinker to go left, turning Tegan into Sawyer’s neighborhood. “Yes, but I have to make a quick pit stop.”

“Well, you missed the turnoff to Abi and Tess’s place.” Sloane jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

“Not there.” Coy chewed her lip, lowering her voice as she drove. “I, um, forgot something at Sawyer’s.”

“You’re kidding, right? Aren’t you going there tomorrow after work?”

“Yeah, but …” Coy tossed her sister a sheepish look. “I locked up both our bikes yesterday with my key, and you’re planning to go for a ride with J.D. tomorrow. It dropped out of my pants last night.”

“Seriously?” Sloane looked at Coy like she didn’t believe her whatsoever. She shook her head incredulously. “You even find ways to see that woman on your day off.”

“‘That woman’ has a name, Sloane. Don’t be an ass.” Pulling into Sawyer’s driveway, Coy parked before glancing at her twin again. “I like her, okay?”

Instead of feeling an ounce of empathy toward her sister’s situation, Sloane only snorted. “Sure, Coy. You like a lot of women—and don’t think I didn’t see your texts from Frankie. What are you gonna do about that woman, huh? How do you plan to manage them both? Are you gonna tell Sawyer about your arrangement with my boss? Or about anyone else? Maybe how you sometimes hook up with Ash?”

“No, no, none of that.” Coy held her hand up in a ‘slow down’ gesture, frowning at Sloane’s sour expression. “I just want Sawyer. I haven’t talked to Frankie yet, but I will.”

Sloane let out a disbelieving laugh, which was quite a feat considering her face was still twisted up like she’d sucked on a lemon. “Sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t believe … Excuse me, what?”

“Coy, no offense, but you can’t go without sex for a week, and you’re, what? Gonna give it all up and pine away for Sawyer until she decides she might want to kiss you again?” Sloane blew a raspberry. “Fuck, you’re all over the place. Just yesterday, you told me nothing was going on between you. Not to mention how allergic you are to the idea of monogamy.”

Coy had said that, it was true, but something about last night felt different. The way Sawyer had touched her hair, or how comfortable the vibe in the living room had been. There was something between them, and despite Coy’s initial upset after the whole piano bench incident, choosing not to pursue Sawyer when there was an inkling of hope wasn’t an option. Her heart was already halfway in.

“Look …” Coy glanced away from Sloane to stare out past the windshield to the house. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and said as calmly as she could manage, “Just because I’ve never been monogamous before doesn’t mean I can’t be.”

“Bullshit. Do you even know what you’re like at the pub? I’ve seen you chatting it up with someone and getting distracted when another with a finer ass walks by.”

“This time, it’s different. C’mon, Sloane.” Coy let out a tense laugh. “Give me some credit, yeah? What’s it gonna take to prove it to you?”

As soon as the words were out, she wished she could reel them back in again. She could practically see the cogs turning in her sister’s mind, and her stomach sank a little at the devilish glint in Sloane’s eyes.

“Let’s bet on it. You give everyone else up but Sawyer, sticking with only her, for … what, one month? Think you can handle that, playgirl?”

Coy’s upper lip curled in distaste, but she held her hand out for Sloane to shake. “Better make it at least three, which is the length of most of your relationships.”

“Fuck you, Coy. At least I haven’t fucked half the city,” Sloane shot back. She held her hand out as well. “It’s a deal. If you lose, you owe me fifty bucks and are on dish duty for a month.”

“And if I win, you owe me the same, but I also want you to start putting more faith in me. Deal?”

“Deal.” They shook on it, Sloane’s palm noticeably clammy. As Coy climbed out of Tegan, she wondered what her sister had to be nervous about. It wasn’t as if her character was up for debate.

Sloane and her fucking bets, Coy thought as she faced Sawyer’s home. The Rover also sat in the driveway, although it was probably Sawyer’s daughter using it since the heart attack. Instead of going through the garage like she always did, Coy went right up to the front entrance and rang the doorbell. A moment later, Bree answered the door, a dusting of flour on her face and wearing an apron.

“McCoy. So nice to see you again. No flowers today?” Bree beamed, pulling Coy inside the house. She shut the door behind them.

“Just Coy is fine.” Coy held her hand out for Bree to take. “And no, unfortunately. The last bunch didn’t seem to go over well with your mom.”

Rather than shake Coy’s hand, Bree pulled her in for a hug. Her reply was so soft Coy strained to hear. “ Maman isn’t used to getting flowers, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t like them on occasion. I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah?” Coy didn’t bother to hide her surprise. Surely Bree didn’t think the flowers were platonic?

“Yeah. You seem like a good person, and … my mom needs someone like that in her life. Someone who can see past her indifference and treat her like a queen. All my father did was hurt her.”

Coy swallowed, her belly tensing at those words. If he’d been such an ass, why was Sawyer having her rebuild the McLaren? And why did Bree’s statement hit so hard? It was as if she was giving Coy permission to date her mother without actually giving permission. Right? And why was her heart suddenly racing?

“McCoy, must you flirt with every woman you come in contact with?” Sawyer’s icy voice flitted across the entrance, and Coy jumped away from Bree like she’d been burned.

“I-I wasn’t, I—”

“I gave Coy a hug, Maman , that’s all.” Bree shot Coy an apologetic smile.

“Coy, huh?” Sawyer pushed herself off the wall she’d been leaning against. She looked casually pretty today, and Coy’s gaze dipped down to witness the way the sweatpants hugged Sawyer’s thighs. She didn’t think there was an outfit Sawyer wouldn’t slay. It was too bad she didn’t smile nearly as much as her daughter did. “Why am I calling you McCoy if you prefer Coy?”

“Um,” Coy stammered, blurting out, “H-Honestly, I just love how you say my name.”

Her eyes widened. Where was her filter? Her brain repeatedly failed her around Sawyer, but this was getting ridiculous. How many times could she embarrass herself before Sawyer laughed her off her property? And in front of her daughter, no less.

Coy groaned, covering her face with her hands and acutely aware of Bree’s giggle. “Can I just … Please just give me what I came for, and I’ll go. I’m sorry. Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Can you stay for lunch? I’m making soup and sandwiches,” Bree offered with a smile so wide it became abundantly clear she was playing matchmaker.

The knowledge unnerved Coy, and before she could think of a response, Sawyer cut in smoothly, “Bree, qu'est-ce que tu fais ? I’m sure McCoy has plans already.”

Coy’s eyes flared with Sawyer’s rough voice rapidly speaking French. A nervous, breathless laugh escaped her, and she jerked her thumb in Sawyer’s direction, her gaze on Bree. “Whatever she said. Besides, Sloane’s outside waiting, and she is definitely the less patient twin.”

“You have a twin? Can we meet her?” If it was possible, Bree appeared even more excited. She glanced at her mom, “ Je t'aide, qu'est-ce que tu penses? ”

“Err …” Bree’s French didn’t hit the same way Sawyer’s did, and for that, Coy was grateful. It was just as effortless, but thankfully Coy’s heady reaction seemed to be for only one woman.

“You’re both welcome to stay if you like. I’ve made chicken and egg salad sandwiches and a homemade butternut squash soup.”

Coy acknowledged Bree with a soft thank you, caught between wanting to stay and having a strong desire to bolt. Having Bree and Sawyer together gave off a domestic vibe Coy wasn’t sure she was ready for. What if Sloane was right? Coy had never even been in a real relationship; how could she begin to qualify for a place in Sawyer’s life? Still, she found herself watching Sawyer, waiting for permission, and knowing she’d lap up any and all time she had with the gorgeous older woman.

Sawyer stared at her so intently that Coy averted her gaze to Sawyer’s slippers instead. After ten long Mississippis—and yes, Coy counted them—Sawyer finally relented. “If you and Sloane agree, I suppose it would make sense to stay for lunch. Bree made enough for a neighborhood.”

Coy let out the breath, a gush of relief flooding through her. She pulled her cell phone out and quickly sent Sloane a text, telling her to come in.

Sloane: I knew this would happen ffs. Nana is expecting us.

“She’ll be right in,” Coy told them, lifting her head from her phone to see Sawyer already making her way to the kitchen.

“Don’t mind Maman . She’s tired. She’ll probably lie down after lunch,” Bree whispered before opening the front door to admit a flushed-faced Sloane. Yep, she was not happy with Coy. “Wow, you’re like a prettier version of Coy.” Bree laughed and grasped the pink tips in Sloane’s hair, not at all concerned that she was virtually a stranger.

Coy let out an uneasy chuckle. “Sloane, this is Bree, Sawyer’s daughter.”

“Daughter?” Shock registered on Sloane’s face, and then her mouth slowly curved into an impish grin as her gaze raked over Bree. “Wow, I had no idea.”

Coy gave her a light swat on the arm and slipped off her Converse. “They invited us for lunch.”

“But Nana—”

“We’ll head over after and still be there for a visit and supper.”

“Coy—”

Coy sent her a pleading look, practically dragging her down the hall after Bree. Sloane scowled but didn’t complain further. She did, however, lean over and whisper, “You forgot to mention your lady had a stunning adult daughter. How about some warning next time?”

“How about you listen more than talk next time?” Coy shot back, her whisper louder than Sloane’s had been, and both Sawyer and Bree were watching them as they entered the kitchen.

“It must have been difficult telling you two apart in school, huh? Or did you always dress so differently?” Bree asked, looking back and forth between them.

Coy glanced at Sloane, catching her eye, and then they both broke into identical grins. “Let’s just say it came in handy a few times during exams,” Sloane returned, then threw her head back to laugh.

“You didn’t?” Now Bree was joining in the laughter, acting so comfortable around her and Sloane, it was like they’d known each other forever. “Twin switching actually works?”

“It did until Coy forgot whose exam she was writing and aced all the math equations.”

Coy felt the low blush begin to heat her cheeks, and she darted her gaze to Sawyer, who was watching her with an indiscernible look in her smokey gaze. Coy gulped, heat flaring low in her belly, and just like that, she was wishing they were alone again. As much as she enjoyed getting to know Bree more, nothing made her happier these days than the few precious moments she spent trying to disarm Sawyer’s defenses.

“Sloane, I’m Sawyer,” Sawyer announced, her knowing glance on Coy a second longer before she held her hand out for Sloane to shake. Her greeting could have been friendlier, but Coy was counting the entire visit a win in her books.

“So you’re the one living rent free in Coy’s head these days. Nice to finally meet you,” Sloane said, as if she hadn’t just bet against Coy’s future with the older woman. Coy ground her molars, watching as Sloane jutted her hand out to receive Sawyer’s greeting.

“Sloane,” she protested.

“McCoy has been working hard on rebuilding my late husband’s car.” Sawyer’s response was cool, her face devoid of emotion as she tried her best to derail Sloane’s idea. “I believe the supercar is what’s stealing all her focus, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh.” Sloane didn’t sound at all convinced but thankfully let it go. They took seats around the island, and as Bree whipped up two more sandwiches, she filled the silence with more questions directed at Sloane. There was an ease between them that shouldn’t have surprised Coy, but it did. Sloane had a way with people; perhaps it was one of the reasons she was a bartender. She could literally strike up a conversation with anyone. Normally, it came easy enough for Coy as well, but sitting so close to Sawyer had her on high alert, and she struggled with finding something to say.

Sensing her unease, Sawyer finally cleared her throat and asked, “How is the car coming along? Are you finding all the parts easily enough?”

The question lacked its usual bite, and Coy took a moment to savor that husky voice. She was close enough that their thighs were almost touching, close enough she could smell the faint floral fragrance of Sawyer’s shampoo and the sugar rub lotion she’d spread over her skin. Lightheadedness engulfed her as she inhaled, and she forced herself to meet Sawyer’s gaze. “Most of the parts are coming from Europe, so sometimes, it’s a waiting game. But it’s going well. Out with the old and in with the new, as they say.” She barked a laugh, aware of her pulse rushing to her ears now. Damn, what she’d give not to humiliate herself around Sawyer.

Her foot was bouncing erratically on the floor like a junkie anxious for a fix, her stomach twisting and bottoming out from the nerves. She couldn’t grasp why she responded to Sawyer the way she did, and it was frustrating that the feelings hadn’t subsided in the last month.

“I don’t know much about cars, but it looks like you’re doing a great job.” Sawyer’s gaze dropped to Coy’s leg.

“Lunch is served,” Bree said, a sly smirk on her face as she placed a plate of soup and sandwich in front of first Coy, and then Sawyer. “ Bon appétit .”

“Thanks, love,” Sawyer replied, and Coy watched as she sent her daughter a grateful smile. A genuine smile, and it was so captivating it stole Coy’s breath. Sawyer was a completely different woman around Bree. Softer, more nurturing. Even her eyes had warmed up watching her daughter work in the kitchen, the pride evident on her face. Honestly, Coy couldn’t decide which side of Sawyer was more intoxicating. Every snippet into Sawyer’s private life felt like the greatest gift imaginable, and Coy was hungry for more time with her.

Sawyer’s hand landed on her thigh, bringing Coy’s bouncing to an abrupt halt. In a whoosh, all the air left her lungs, the heat from that hand searing the skin underneath her cargos. She was frozen, too cowardly to lift her gaze from her plate in case her face gave her away. It wasn’t until Sawyer gently squeezed that she stammered out a thank you for Bree.

“I-it looks delish. When, um …” Coy swallowed, her gaze flickering to the lean hand still touching her. Fuck, even her hands are sexy . “When we were your age, we lived off KD, so I’m impressed. Homemade soup?”

“I grew up in the kitchen. Maman taught me everything I know.”

Coy shifted her gaze in time to see Bree and Sawyer sharing a fond look across the island. A slight pang settled in her chest as she witnessed the obvious love between them. She’d wondered her whole life what it would have been like to have her mom by her side. Her father had done his best filling the role of both parents, but she’d always felt the absence in the house.

“You’re fortunate to have each other,” Sloane spoke, her gaze on Coy as she bit into her chicken sandwich.

“We are.” Coy felt Sawyer stiffen a little, and then she was retracting her hand from Coy’s thigh. The loss was immediate, but Coy shrugged the feeling off. “Where does your nana live?”

The subject change was welcome, and Coy rushed in with a reply. “About an hour’s drive, in the country. She’s lived alone since we lost our grandpa a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sawyer spooned some of her soup in, swallowing before asking, almost as an afterthought, “Are you close with her?”

That brought a smile to Coy’s lips, but Sloane answered before she had a chance. “Yeah, Nana is a force to be reckoned with. She’s kind of like our mom in some ways, and she legit has a soft spot for Coy. We’re headed over to help her navigate the new stairlift Coy bought her.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine those are cheap. Is that why you agreed to work for my mom?” Bree canted her head to the side as she observed Coy. It made her nervous all over again.

For what seemed like the tenth time that hour, heat crept up Coy’s throat to splotch her cheeks. She ducked her head to her barely touched food. “One of the reasons,” she admitted, pleased with the casual tone in her voice. “Ever since Nana broke her hip last fall, it’s been harder to get around. So I’ve been doing what I can to make it easier.”

“Yeah, she refuses to move into community care,” Sloane said with a roll of her eyes, but Coy knew how much they both loved their nana.

“Change is scary, right, Maman ?”

Sawyer gave a slow nod, her gaze full of something Coy couldn’t begin to decipher, but damn if she wouldn’t gladly take the rest of the day and night to try. “I don’t know if I’d use the word scary,” she said, staring directly at Coy as she spoke. It felt like she could literally get lost in those deep pools. Her foot bounce resumed, and once again, Sawyer reached out to stop the distracting motion. “Change is hard because it takes a while before you know if it was worth it or not. The unknown is what’s terrifying.”