Page 22

ANTON

I place my phone screen down on the bar, staring straight ahead, the Pour Decisions logo fading out of focus as I zone out, getting lost in my own thoughts.

Sawyer doesn’t like sex.

It’s probably pretty stereotypical that I ran to a bar after our little encounter gone wrong.

I just couldn’t think of where else to go.

The lab was out of the question, because for all I knew that’s where Sawyer ran to.

Or back to the grove she’d been working in.

Or my parents’ house, which was apparently where she ended up.

And I knew, instinctively, that running after her was the wrong answer. She needed her space.

Guess I owe Hux an apology for that too. Now that I’ve been on the receiving end of a girl running away, I understand knowing—truly knowing —that going after her isn’t always the right answer. Ooops.

My house would have been an option, I suppose. Maybe a better one. But something about that felt lonely. At least here there are other people.

Milo walks over, stopping in front of me from his side of the bar, tossing his bar towel over his shoulder, then leaning forward, arms spread wide.

Pour Decisions doesn’t officially open for another couple of hours, so it’s just him and me—plus the pair of guys working on some lights out on the back porch area.

My older brother studies me, looking me up and down, eyes squinted like he’s looking into the sun. I don’t bother to say anything, simply sit there, lost in my own thought process. Because what is there to say?

Sawyer doesn’t like sex. I mean…who doesn’t like sex?

I can’t reason it. It doesn’t make sense.

Wrapping my head around this…nope. The math doesn’t math.

And oral scares her? What is there to be afraid of? How fucking fantastic it is?

I meant what I told her—our deal has nothing to do with sex. Nothing. I need a date to Willa’s wedding. I have a bet to win. And once I win, I’ll write her that letter of recommendation.

More than that, I really am enjoying our time together. There’s something about her. I want to know everything there is about her. I want to spend time with her. With or without fucking her. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in fooling around.

“So this is what find out looks like…” Milo snickers.

He pushes back, his whole body rocking, the smirk on his face growing as wide as the Flint River. Yanking on the tap, he pours me a beer, still laughing to himself as the amber liquid fills the glass. I shake my head, trying to figure out what the fuck he is going on about.

“Huh?”

Sliding the full pint glass across the bar, looking prouder than a damn peacock, he levels me with a look only an older brother can. “You fucked around, now you’ve found out. Huh?”

“No.”

Fucker…

“What’d you do?”

I grab the beer, taking a long sip, letting the strong but mellow peppy and effervescent taste burst over my tastebuds. Party Mode. Because of course. It’s my favorite of the Southern Brothers beers, regardless of the situation. Something Milo knows.

“Would you believe me if I told you nothing?”

“No.”

Fair.

Milo leans back against the back bar, legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed, waiting on me to spill like he’s got all day. Then again, he does.

I suck in a breath. I need to get this off my chest. Need advice. And if there is anyone who would understand, it’s probably Milo. But I also meant what I told Sawyer—her secret is safe with me. I never—ever—want her to feel like she can’t tell me things.

Fuck, I’m in deep.

“Cone of silence?” I ask, my chest feeling like the jaws of life are starting to squeeze at it.

Milo perks up, his lackadaisical stance gone in an instant. He’s back over at the bar, attention fully on me. “Always. Like Reverend Terry’s confessional. But with beer.”

I raise an eyebrow, letting him know that his analogy is a little off.

Last I knew, the pastor of Hickory Hills Baptist Church hadn’t taken up the habit of listening to confessions, and we didn’t have one of those fancy little closet things they show on TV that the Catholics use. But I get his point.

“It’s Sawyer.”

“No shit. ”

“What happened to listening?” I snap.

“Sorry, sorry.” He raises his hands in surrender.

I huff, shaking my head and taking another long draw of my drink. I need it. Not only to buy time to find my words, but to work up the courage to actually say them. To admit that I don’t know what the fuck I am doing.

“She doesn’t like sex.”

Milo is silent. To the point where I’m not sure he heard me. Instead, he just stares back at me, blinking. So I say it again.

“Sawyer doesn’t like sex.”

“Caught that,” he tells me. “You discovered this…how?”

“Rounding second,” I comment. “Or well, trying to steal second, I guess. Little rusty on my baseball analogies here.”

Haven’t had to use them since high school after all. These days it’s a home run or nothing.

“Sooo…” He draws out the word. Now it’s his turn to buy time, unsure how to respond. “The issue is…”

Seriously? I stare at him, incredulous, not sure if he’s being serious or wearing his sassy pants. Because this is Milo we’re talking about. Those sassy pants get a lot of use.

At the same time, maybe he’s prompting me to get it all out. To word vomit all the nonsense that is in my head.

“She doesn’t like sex! Sex!” I exclaim, jumping up off my barstool. It topples over behind me, clattering against the cement floor, the sound echoing in the empty warehouse-like space. “Who doesn’t like sex? I mean, seriously, have you ever known anyone who didn’t like sex?”

“Me!” a sweet, feminine voice answers.

Milo and I both freeze. Turning, almost in unison, our eyes land on Milo’s fiancée, Brenna, and I don’t know who’s more shocked—him or me. Oh, shit.

Where did she come from?

Sliding behind the bar, she smiles brightly at us, as if she didn’t just drop a bomb larger than Fat Man and Little Boy combined.

“Excuse you?” Milo shouts, storming right over to her. He stops short, just shy of her, face scrunched in a mishmash of horror, confusion, offense, and some other wild emotion I can’t name.

Brenna, on the other hand, is all giggles.

“Not now ,” she answers, placing a hand gently on Milo’s chest and pushing to her tiptoes to kiss him. It’s like a scene from some cheesy rom-com—all you need is an instrumental soundtrack playing in the background. “But before you. Absolutely.”

I watch all the muscles in Milo’s back relax as he gathers her in his arms. His face is obscured, but I would bet every penny in my bank account that the medley of emotions splashed on his face is gone, replaced with just one—love.

There’s no doubt that Brenna brings out the best in him. The other half that makes him whole.

In this moment, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous. Although I’m not about to admit that out loud.

Instead, I need answers.

“Explain,” I demand.

Shifting my weight nervously, I rock back and forth, impatiently waiting for Milo and Brenna to break apart. I’m about half a second from threatening to jump over this bar and rip them apart when Brenna finally steps back, winking at my brother, then turning to me.

“I think the statement is pretty self-explanatory,” she quips.

Fuck me, she really is Milo’s other half…

“Bren,” Milo says, giving her a look that silently communicates something only they understand.

“I mean it.”

She sighs hastily, looking between us, like we’re a pair of the biggest dumbasses she’s ever met.

Pushing past Milo, she walks toward me and leans down, resting her forearms on the bar.

Her eyes meet mine, holding on for a long moment, like she’s trying to read my thoughts.

I really hope not, since those are secrets I’d rather be kept locked up tight right now.

“You really like her, huh? This isn’t just about the bet…” Brenna whispers.

So much for keeping it a secret…

I nod, still not ready verbally to put it out there.

“She has her reasons. Just like I had mine. She’ll let you in when she’s ready and?—”

“I know some.”

Brenna tilts her head to the side, as if to say there you go . “And if you want to be the one who changes it for her…”

I reel back, Brenna’s words hitting me like a wrecking ball. She stops, standing up straight, just as caught off guard by my sudden move as I am. Only she has no idea what she said.

If you want to be the one who changes it…

Because I don’t want to change it. I don’t want to change her.

But, I do want her.

For the first time in I don’t know how long, maybe ever, I think I want a relationship.

“I need to get back to the lab.”

I slap my hand against my pocket to make sure I have my keys then turn on my heel and head straight for the door.

The sound of Milo’s laughter fills the air, barely covering Brenna’s confusion in asking what happened.

I don’t have time to explain though. Because I need to get to Sawyer.

Need to tell her what I should have told her earlier.

Need to do what I should have done after she took off from the grove.

I can hear Sawyer and Cary’s discussion the second I walk into the greenhouse. Deep in the data, and both incredibly passionate about their respective areas, there are a lot of ways this could go.

“But if you look at the declining pH levels over time, you’ll see that the soil is responding well to the treatment. And that’s after only a week So, I think we could actually split the study, and try half of it with an increased amount, to see what happens,” Sawyer says.

Her voice is strong, steady, and unwavering.

She knows her shit, and she isn’t afraid to put it out there.

I have ten bucks too that if—no, when —Cary pushes back on her suggestion, being the risk-averse individual that he is, that she’s not going to be afraid to fight him on it either. Because she also has to be right.

“Ehhhh,” Cary wavers, right on time. “Do we really want to risk that? When we know it’s going so well?”

“Yes.”

Called it.

I burst through the door to the lab, letting it slam behind me. Both my best friend and the beautiful brunette next to him look up, sporting shared perplexed looks. Although one of them is a lot cuter than the other.

“Thought you were meeting with Alex at the packing plant this afternoon?” Cary greets.

Hello to you too, buddy…

“Change of plans. Need to talk to Sawyer real quick.”

Sawyer’s cheeks tinge ever so slightly. It’s hard to see in the shadows from the solar windows, but I catch a peek of it as she shifts, trying not to look directly at me.

“We’re in the middle of something,” she scolds.

“Five minutes,” I tell her, holding out my hands .

“We’re reviewing the data?—”

“Two minutes, Sawyer.”

“No minutes.”

Damn it, does her feisty side turn me on. I bite back my smirk, wanting nothing more than to stand here and continue to push her buttons. Except, I do actually have something important to discuss with her.

“Eh, we can take a break,” Cary says. I don’t know if he sees the urgency in my eyes or something else, but I’ve never wanted to hug him so bad in my entire life.

“I gotta call Tizzy; she’s called like five times since lunch.

So either the world is ending, or she made the most perfect truffle and can’t wait to tell me. ”

Or that. I’ll take it.

“Sawyer?”

I nod toward the greenhouse, indicating that we’ll head out there to give Cary a minute to make his call. Sawyer rolls her eyes, not bothering to hide that she’s annoyed with me. My barging in here and disturbing her meeting was not on her bingo card.

Holding the door open, I let her walk through, then shut it behind me, quickly grabbing her hand and dragging her down the first row we come to.

“What are you?—”

I cut her off, yanking her into me and kissing her. Hard.

And my world stops.

Sawyer whimpers, relaxing into me. The same sweet taste floods my senses, but this time I know what to do. Or well, what not to do. My mission is different.

“Please tell me that you didn’t interrupt my meeting just for that,” Sawyer says, pulling back from the kiss but not letting go of me.

“No,” I tell her, tightening my grip. “That wasn’t planned, but I couldn’t help myself. You tryin’ to boss me around back there was more of a turn-on than I realized.”

“I wasn’t trying to boss you around,” she argues.

My dick twitches, and her eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing until she’s as red as the tomato plant we’re standing in front of, clearly having felt that. I laugh, kissing her again.

“I just told you it did it for me,” I tease.

“Anton…”

“Hey…” I run my thumb along her cheek, fighting back the urge to kiss her again. “What I came here to tell you, what I should have told you earlier, is that I want you.”

“Yes, your actions during lunch made that clear.”

“No, Sawyer. I want you ,” I say, turning serious. I want to make sure she understands this. “You told me that you don’t like sex, and while I don’t understand, you have your reasons. And I hope you’ll share those reasons with me.”

“I will,” she whispers.

My heart swells, already full of hope.

“What I should have shared with you when you told me that, is that I don’t date.

” Sawyer recoils, tensing in my arms, but I tighten my grip, not letting her move.

“I have my reasons, which I will absolutely share with you. One of which is, I simply haven’t wanted to. But you, Sawyer, you make me want to.”

“Even though…”

“Yes. Because that’s not what I’m after. I like you. I like having someone to talk about crops and soil with. And the rest will come, right?”

Sawyer giggles, pressing her lips into a line and looking up at me. “Was that a bad pun, or…”

“Totally unintended. But I look forward to the day I can make you do that. Show you how good it can really be.”

Sawyer blushes again, stepping back, trying to wiggle out of my arms. I let her go, knowing that we both need to get on with our day.

“I have to go back to work. Pretty sure you do too.” She kisses me on the cheek, and I inhale deeply, trying to memorize her scent. Turning to go, she pauses, smiling. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

I nod. “Whaddya say, Sawyer? Be my girlfriend?”

“Thought I already was?” she calls out, still walking back toward the office.

“I mean for real.”

The only answer I get is the slamming of the office door. Well, it’s not a no.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I dig for it, my heart leaping, excited to see what kind of smart-ass response she has. Except, it’s not her.

Cary:

Double date when you get back from ATL?

Absolutely