Page 28

Chapter 28

Sawyer

It was no surprise to see the first bouquet of flowers arrive. Or the second. Or even the third. Three days, three bouquets was, however endearing, a bit excessive, but Sawyer allowed it. Unfortunately, the old saying, “Good things come in threes,” must have skipped McCoy’s generation.

“I’ve never seen so many flowers in all the time I’ve known you,” Barb observed as she came into Sawyer’s office on the fourth day. She set the latest arrangement of red roses and lilies on the desk, pausing to fuss over a wayward lily before tossing Sawyer a sly smile. “Something you wanna tell me?”

“No,” Sawyer deadpanned, though the traitorous blush creeping up her throat was a dead giveaway that something was going on. She leaned forward, breathing in the pleasant fragrance before carefully pulling the attached card out. Tucking it into her desk, she said, “Thank you, Barb. You can tell Mikey to display them out front with the others.”

“Sure thing, boss. These obviously romantic flowers are just what the dining room is missing.” Barb smirked, picking the bouquet up again. Once at the door, she paused to add, “It’s slow tonight. You should get out of here early. Go home and rest.”

“Rest. Right.” Sawyer thought she had been resting. She’d been enjoying the rare silence inside her office while there was a lull in the dinner rush. Though, she was tired, and there was a full crew on tonight. If she took Bree with her, they could watch a movie before heading to bed.

The moment Barb left, Sawyer retrieved the card from her drawer, unable to stop the small smile as she read McCoy’s words.

Sawyer,

A little bird told me customers are loving the flowers in the dining room, so I figured, one more should even it all out. She also told me you’ve got these cards stashed inside your desk for safe keeping. I love that. I love how you’re a secret romantic. You’re a good and beautiful person, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning. Enjoy the rest of your night.

XOXO

McCoy

“Of course, Bree told her.” Sawyer’s soft laughter rang out harmoniously throughout the office. A burst of affection swelled in her chest, and she reread the card, still smiling. Then she pulled out the first three, rereading them as well. McCoy wasn’t overly sappy or flakey with her writing, which Sawyer respected. She also valued the time and dedication it must have taken McCoy to leave a personalized card with the flowers in the first place. No one had bothered to before.

… You’re a good and beautiful person …

… For our first date, I’d love to take you to my favorite spot to eat. Frankie’s got the best nachos around. Scratch that. Forgot you need to eat healthier. How about grilled chicken and salad?

… How do you feel about cooking as part of a date sometime? I’d love to learn from you.

P.S. Last night I dreamt about our first kiss, but this time you had me on the ground in the shop. Like you’d ever get your blouse that dirty! …

… You’re a great mom. I love the way you look at Bree. Anyone in your life is lucky to be there. Remember that …

“McCoy, what are you doing to me?” Sawyer whispered, tracing the words with her fingertips and so caught up in her feelings, she didn't hear the door open. She flinched in her chair as Bree appeared beside the desk.

“I think she’s hoping you’ll fall in love with her,” her daughter said, watching as Sawyer hastily stuffed the cards back in their respective places.

“That’s ridiculous.” Sawyer locked up her desk, scoffing. Then she stood and started unbuttoning her chef’s coat. Bree was already changed and ready to leave for the night.

“Is it? Anyone can see how she looks at you, Maman .”

“She’s young. Too young for anything long-term with me,” Sawyer said as she pulled on her jacket. Even a month post-heart attack, fatigue bored down on her. She was grateful for all the caring people in her life, like Barb, who told her to go home. And now that Cindy and Bree were on payroll, there was no excuse not to sometimes. So she shouldered her bag and led the way out of her office.

“She’s twenty-eight next month and co-owner of Miller’s Mechanics & Restoration,” Bree argued behind Sawyer. “She and Sloane are a huge success on social media, so much that they have a YouTube sponsor. She helps take care of her nana. What more do you want? She looks at you like you’re the sun, the moon, the stars, and a buffet table of her favorite foods.”

“Bree,” Sawyer chided, choking back laughter.

“I’m just saying,” Bree chortled, wrapping an arm around Sawyer’s waist as they headed outside to the Rover. She leaned up and kissed Sawyer’s bad cheek as if making a point. “Age gap or not, you and Coy look amazing together. And she makes you smile. For that alone, I’d keep her if I were you.”

Sawyer made a noncommittal sound, choosing to sit on the passenger side for the trip home. She was tired, and driving was another thing she needed extra focus on. They rode in comfortable silence for two blocks, and then Sawyer took her phone out of her purse and texted McCoy.

Sawyer: Thank you, McCoy. I’ll see you in the morning.

Sawyer came downstairs, steam from her shower still clinging to her skin. The silk bathrobe she wore teased her nipples with every sway of her hips. Her breasts were heavy with a desperate, ferocious need. Begging to be touched, but not just anyone would do.

McCoy Miller.

Ugh. No. It could never be her. She couldn’t trust McCoy not to break her, and she’d already been broken and had to repair herself a thousand times over.

McCoy.

“Stop,” Sawyer scolded her helpless inner thoughts as she entered the kitchen. They had no voice here , in the real world.

“Stop what?” McCoy asked, and Sawyer practically jumped out of her skin. McCoy was leaning against the sink, watching Sawyer with lazy intent in her eyes.

“ Calisse , McCoy. Are you trying to scare me to death?”

McCoy pushed off the sink, closing the gap between them quickly. She reached for Sawyer, skimming a hand down her arm and, in the process, grazing her stiffened nipple. “Never. I want you too much for that.”

Sawyer sucked in a breath, glancing down at where her bathrobe had come apart. Just wide enough to tease the woman before her. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “How dare you show up after putting your moves on me.”

“What? You mean on the piano bench? Sawyer …” McCoy dragged her bottom lip between her teeth, assessing Sawyer. Mischief danced in her eyes, and then she leaned upward to whisper in Sawyer’s ear. “You would know when I was putting on my moves. It would start with whispering sweet nothings in your ear, like this.” McCoy’s nose nuzzled against her skin. “You’re gorgeous. I wanna taste you.”

Sawyer began trembling, all the want and need she’d had to stuff down over the years exploding to the surface with one hushed declaration.

“Can I taste you, Sawyer?”

“Oh, God,” she whined. Arousal soaked her thighs, and she clamped them closed.

McCoy kissed her ear, whispering, “Is that a yes, Chef Lavoie?”

“Yes.”

“In that case,” McCoy scooped Sawyer into her arms and carried her to the kitchen island, her throaty laughter doing wicked things to Sawyer. The granite countertop pressed into her ass as McCoy set her down on the surface.

Sawyer glanced around the kitchen. “Here?”

“Mm-hmm,” McCoy fixed her gaze on the tie in Sawyer’s robe. She reached for the rope, tugging it open until Sawyer’s front was completely exposed to her. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

Instinct had Sawyer moving to cover herself, but McCoy grabbed her wrists, pinning them behind her on the counter. She kissed Sawyer deeply. “Let me look at you, please.”

“Yes.”

When did her voice become so breathy? She squirmed, her body flushing all over as McCoy kissed a path down her torso to her sex. There, she didn’t waste time, instead grabbing Sawyer’s hips and pulling her closer to the edge of the counter. Then she got on her knees and used her fingers to spread Sawyer open.

“Sexy,” McCoy gushed just before she buried her lips in Sawyer’s pussy.

“Oh, yes,” Sawyer cried.

“You taste like tourtière. So delicious,” McCoy said, her mouth glistening as she stared up at Sawyer.

Tourtière? Sawyer’s eyes widened. She tasted like meat pie? “What?”

“ Maman , good morning. I made breakfast,” Bree sang out from somewhere behind them.

Sawyer froze, scrambling away from McCoy. She lost her balance and fell off the island.

“ Maman . Are you okay?”

Sawyer blinked, rubbing her eyes to clear the blurriness from them. Bree came into view, concern written all over her face as she crouched beside her on the floor.

“Bree, what are you … McCoy?” was all Sawyer managed. Her pulse seemed to be pounding everywhere at once. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but when she did, her hands flew to her robe only to discover she was wearing one of her T-shirts and bikini briefs. Her eyes darted to her surroundings, spotting the familiar esthetics of her bedroom. The relief she felt was paramount, and she sagged into the carpet momentarily, an uncharacteristic giggle escaping her.

“McCoy, huh? Did I wake you mid-dream?” Bree teased, helping Sawyer stand.

Oh, God , Sawyer realized. Bree woke her from a sex dream. A hot, albeit strange, kitchen sex dream with McCoy. Her blush started at the tips of her ears and didn’t stop until her entire body was warm with it. How mortifying.

Bree noticed but thankfully didn’t comment on it. Excitement had her bouncing from foot to foot, and before Sawyer could prod, Bree said, “There’s no rush to come downstairs. I just wanted to let you know breakfast is in the oven keeping warm. I’ll be in the garage with Coy. She’s gonna teach me how to install the wiring in the McLaren.”

“Ok-kay.” Sawyer frowned, digesting this. Why did Bree need to know that? But her daughter was already racing out of the room, shutting the door behind her. “Well,” she muttered, heading to her ensuite bathroom for a real shower. “What a way to wake up.”