Neither of them said anything as they got out of the car. He went around to the trunk and got her bag, leaving his own on top of the spare tire. Then he followed her inside to the Lees’ warm, yellow kitchen decorated with wildflowers and photos of coffee mugs. Bobby said good night and headed up the stairs. Sawyer placed Clover’s bag on the kitchen island while her mom started a fresh pot of coffee despite the fact that it was ten o’clock at night. Clover had gone over to a framed family photo on the counter and picked it up. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought it was the first time she’d ever seen it.
Earlier today his mom had asked him what he really knew about Clover. The truth was, not a lot. He knew what she liked to do, how she liked her hamburgers, that she dipped her fries in vinegar, and that she laughed at all the same places he did in movies. That wasn’t the same, though, as actually knowing her and what made her tick. Now he wouldn’t. She’d come back to the penthouse in a couple of days and get her stuff. He’d cut her a check for the full amount. She wasn’t the one who’d decided to end things early, after all. And then she’d be off to Australia and he’d go back to his life the way it was before she’d shown up at Carlyle Towers, answering an ad for a personal buffer that he’d never placed.
The fact that he felt like he’d swallowed glass just meant that it was better to get out of here sooner rather than later. “Mrs. Lee—”
“Laura, I insist. We’re going to be family after all,” she interrupted. “Don’t worry, I’m making decaf. Do you want some?”
Clover sat down the photo and crossed over to stand by him. “Mom, Sawyer has to head back to Harbor City.”
“Really?” Laura said, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes.” He nodded, playing his part. “There’s been an emergency at the office.”
“Uh-huh.” Laura looked from Clover to him and back again, her gaze cool and assessing. “Well, we’ll just move family lunch up to family brunch so you can head back to the city tomorrow afternoon. Even a busy man like yourself needs a morning off every once in a while.”
“Mom, it doesn’t really work like tha—”
“I’ll stay.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, the tightness in his shoulders released, and he realized it was exactly the answer he’d wanted to give the whole time.
“You will?” Both women asked at the same time. One was pleased while the other was not in the least.
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s Friday night. The office will still be there on Monday.”
“Wonderful!” Laura clapped. “I’ll get you set up in the guest room. Jane, you’ll be in your old room. I know, I know you’re grown adults, but this is my house and my rules—and I have a lot of them or so my children tell me.”
He was beginning to see why Clover had learned the importance of good negotiation. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Laura—or Mom. You two are engaged after all.” She let out a little whoop of excitement, put one arm around him and another around Clover before pulling them in for a tight hug.
Looking over the top of Laura’s head, there was no missing the dirty look Clover was giving him. He was a selfish bastard. He knew. But his time with Clover was up the minute they got back to Harbor City and if he could delay that for another twelve hours, he’d take it. Tomorrow would be soon enough to own up to the truth. Until then, he’d take all the distraction he could get.
Chapter Eighteen
An hour of tossing and turning later, Clover rolled over in the lumpy twin-size bed she’d grown up sleeping in and grabbed her cell phone. Squinting at the screen that seemed abnormally bright in the pitch dark of her room, she started thumb typing.
Clover: We need to talk.
That was one way to put it. It sounded so much nicer than I need to smack you upside the head for complicating an already fucked up situation. The fact that part of her was thrilled he was staying—even after the bullshit at dinner tonight—told her just how much she needed him out of her life. Daphne had been right. She wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl and if she didn’t get out soon, she’d pay the price.
Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Sawyer: Honey, I know you’re mad.
A flutter of anticipation made her catch her breath. It wasn’t fair. He only called her that when they were either naked or damn close to getting there. Snapping her legs shut, she let her fingers do a whole other kind of talking.
Clover: Don’t call me that.
Sawyer: ???
Clover: You know exactly what name I’m talking about.
Sawyer: You’ve always liked it when I called you that before…and what we were doing when I called you that.
Bastard. He may not be a great flirt, but he was definitely getting better. Or maybe it was just that he knew her well enough to know exactly how to get her off track. Well, it wasn’t going to work.
Clover: Not my amused face —>
Sawyer: I can fix that.
Her nipples peaked at the suggestion. Down girls, we’re mad at him.
Clover: How? By sneaking out in the middle of the night and going back to Harbor City?
Sawyer: And break your mom’s heart? No way.
Clover: Your ego is out of control. I’m serious. This is my family.
Sawyer: I know. Look, can we do this in person?
She could barely do this by text. Meeting him in person was not a good idea. He’d screwed her over when he’d changed his mind and decided to stay for family brunch tomorrow. Still, she wanted to see him. Anda el diablo. There was no winning. She chickened out and stayed in her room and would be miserable. She snuck out of the house and took him down the dock so they could talk without fear of being overheard and she would be miserable.
But with one option you actually get to see him. You won’t be able to do that after tomorrow.
She swallowed past the rock that had formed in her throat and typed with trembling fingers, unsure of anything except the fact that this was more than likely a mistake—one she had to make.
Clover: Meet me at the back gate. You’ll have to go out the window—>garage roof—>shed roof—>ground.
Sawyer: What am I, 16? And how often did you sneak out?
Clover: None of your business. And my mom’s a super light sleeper, if she hears you walking around she’ll want to be a good hostess and see what you need then she’ll never get any sleep and she needs it tonight.
Sawyer: So out the window I go.
Clover slipped on her jeans and grabbed a sweatshirt to pull over her tank top if it got cold. Shoving her cell in her back pocket, she tiptoed up the staircase from her basement room—sticking to the right side to avoid the squeaky sections—and hustled out the kitchen door that led out to her mom’s garden on the side of the house. The strawberries were out in full force along with spinach, tomatoes, and bell peppers among other things—along with an entire army of bizarre garden gnomes. From lumberjacks to bakers to evil witches to half gnome/half animal hybrids, her mom’s collection had doubled from when Clover still lived at home. It was weird but at least it made finding a birthday gift easy.
She walked around the corner of the house and over to the back gate where Sawyer stood in the light of the full moon staring at the gnome-shaped gate handle.
“Your mom has a weird thing for gnomes,” he said.