Southern Seduction (126 page)

“That’s enough, Sylvia,” I hear, barely registering Sawyer’s voice. I can feel him kneel down beside me, and I fall into his embrace the moment he wraps his arms around me. Clutching his tuxedo jacket, I sob into him. I’m crying for the loss of my daddy, for the loss of Sawyer, the loss of my mama.

“Oh, how rich. He’s actually coming to her rescue this time. Sawyer, you know you can’t be together. People will talk.”

My blood boils when I hear her addressing him in such a familiar manner, and the tears flow even harder from knowing that she’s spent all these years getting to know him after she pushed me away.

He stands, pulling me up with him. As he places his arms around me, I hide my face in his chest, not wanting to look at her. “Sylvia, I do not want to hear another word from you. If what I overheard was correct, you played a role in Cheyenne running away from me all those years ago. I’ll be damned if I let you do it again. You ruined your daughter’s happiness—and mine—once before. We’re together now, and you can either accept it or mind your own fucking business.”

I peek my head out and see her start to speak, but Sawyer holds up his hand, effectively shutting her up. “Not another word. If you so much as think about coming between us again, Dad will find out all about your pool boy toy.” She gasps and tries to protest. Sawyer just shakes his head at her. “You’re a walking, talking gold-digging cliché and it’s fucking sad. You have an amazing daughter, who after all this time still felt guilty for not keeping in better contact, and all you care about is who you can latch on to and bleed dry. You’re not getting any younger, Sylvia. You keep pushing all these people away and you’re going to end up old, miserable, and alone.”

With that, Sawyer grabs my hand and leads me inside. I’m in a daze as he tells Bryan that we’re leaving and that the limo will be back for them in a little bit. When we get back outside to wait for the limo, he presses me up against the wall of the hotel.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he asks, his thumb rubbing my cheek, wiping away any loose tears. “You didn’t let her get inside your head, did you?”

Fresh tears start to fall as I take in his tenderness. I can tell that he’s nervous that my mother just ruined all the progress we’ve made. I shake my head. “I may not be okay, but I will be. I told you. No more running.”

He nods, giving me a sweet smile. When we get into the limo, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. “What do you say we go home?” he asks, and something tells me he doesn’t mean the apartment.

We ride in silence back to my place. I’m content just to be with him, my head resting on his shoulder. Every so often, he leans in to place a kiss on my head, a sweet gesture that fills my heart with a happiness I haven’t felt in a long time, despite what just happened at the hotel.

When we get to my condo, I quickly pack a bag and we walk the short distance to his home. I’m sure we look like quite the pair, all decked out in our fancy attire, but I don’t care. I’m just ready to be back where we belong.

It isn’t until we’re in the car and out of the city that he speaks again. “So I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I’ve wanted to ask this for so long, but it never felt like the right time. I have to know, Cheyenne. What happened all those years ago? Why’d you run?”

Sighing, I knew I’d eventually have to talk about this. I was hoping that we could’ve gotten a little more comfortable in our new relationship, but now that he’s asking, I know I have to finally be honest with him.

As I take a deep breath, he reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It gives me the confidence, and without another thought, I go back to that summer. The summer I fell in love. The summer I broke both our hearts.

August 2008

Cheyenne

It’s been a little over a month since Sawyer took my virginity in the boathouse, and we’ve been more inseparable than ever. He started staying with me every night, not caring that he had to get up even earlier to get to the farm on time. Wyatt’s been inviting me over for dinner several times a week, and it’s become increasingly harder to stomach the idea of going to Berkeley. I only have a week left, and although we’ve avoided talking about it, I know Sawyer’s dreading leaving as much as I am. It figures that I’d have the best summer of my life and fall in love, only to be moving over two thousand miles away.

Tonight he was supposed to come over after work, but he texted me earlier in the afternoon that something had come up and he’d be by later tonight. I didn’t think much of it, considering how crazy life on a farm can be.

I spent most of the day at the lake, sketching and daydreaming, wishing there were a way I could stay in Georgia. I’ve considered going to Berkeley for a semester, maybe a year, and then trying to get a scholarship to a state school in Georgia. Part of me feels crazy for even considering it, but the reasons for going away to Berkeley no longer seem important, and for the first time, I feel wanted, cherished, and I don’t know how to let that go or if I’ll even be able to.

I’m lying on the couch catching up on Netflix shows, just biding my time until Sawyer comes over. I really should be packing and getting things ready, but I can’t bring myself to do it just yet. Instead, I pass the hours just lounging around. I’m zoned out when I hear the front door open. Glancing at the clock, I realize he’s earlier than I expected. I sit up and smooth over my hair even though Sawyer’s seen me at my worst. I’m about to call out to him when my mouth snaps shut, surprise and dread both washing over me as my mother steps into the room.

She must be able to read the expression on my face because she throws her hands up in an exasperated sigh. “Is that any way to greet your mama?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.

There’s clearly no love lost between us. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up before I left for California. You know, next week?”

She wrinkles her nose, and I realize that’s not why she’s here. “Oh, is that happening so soon? It must’ve slipped my mind.”

Getting up from the couch, I go to my room so I can text Sawyer to tell him I’ll meet him at the lake instead of him coming here. She follows me and starts going through my closet.

“Umm, what are you doing?” I ask when she starts pulling out clothes.

“We’re going out to dinner and I need to find something that will make you look presentable the first time you meet your stepfather.” My heart sinks, and a sense of dread washes over me. I have no desire to meet whatever rich pushover she’s conned into marrying her. I was hoping I’d get away to San Francisco before every having to come face to face with the idiot.

Sighing, I sit on the edge of my bed, mentally trying to figure out what I can wear to turn this guy off completely. Maybe it’s bratty, but I’m so over trying to live up to her standards as she tries to make me someone I’m not. She may have been fine with completely changing herself because of a man, but I’m not. That’s part of why I love Sawyer. He loves me no matter what I’m wearing or what I look like. Lately, it’s usually when I’m wearing nothing, and well, I’m okay with that.

As much as I want to protest, I know I’m not going to get out of this dinner. Instead, I move past her to pull a simple yellow sundress out of the closet. She wrinkles her nose when she sees it.

“Cheyenne, really? Yellow is not your color,” she scoffs, and I’m even more satisfied with my selection.

“It looks great with my tan skin. I’m wearing it, so drop it,” I tell her, walking out of my room and into the bathroom to hop in the shower, not letting her get in another word.

I try to rush getting ready, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. I tie my hair in a loose side braid and settle on just a quick swipe of mascara on my eyelashes. Sitting in front of the mirror, I realize that I look like the polar opposite of her, and I like it. My eyes fall on the three rings hanging on a chain around my neck. Reluctantly, I bring my hands up and unclasp the necklace, placing it gently in the jewelry box beside my vanity. I’ve only been wearing them for about a month, but I already feel naked without them. They’re soothing to me, almost like I can feel Daddy right there next to my heart. I hate taking them off. I just can’t risk her seeing them and demanding them back, even though I don’t know why she would. I didn’t miss the huge rock on her finger. She’s clearly more than moved on.

When I finally emerge, ready to go, I find her in the kitchen tapping her foot impatiently. She looks me up and down, rolling her eyes when she sees my brown cowboy boots.

“I don’t know how I had a daughter like you. You don’t even make an effort with your appearance,” she says, sighing loudly. “Oh well. It’s too late now. Come on.”

She ushers me out the door but not before I can get the last word in. “Well, maybe if you ever took an interest in parenting, I would’ve learned all the ways it takes to be a presentable woman.”

I stop when I see the silver Mercedes sitting in the driveway next to my old Honda Civic. It looks completely out of place, and when my mother goes to stand beside it, I realize that she does as well.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she gushes. “It was a wedding present from Thomas.”

Walking towards the car, I look around, my heart sinking when I understand what she’s done. “Where’s Daddy’s truck?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

She waves me off. “Oh, that piece of junk was so old. It only made sense to get rid of it. Thomas was able to sell it for spare parts.”

Hot tears fill my eyes, and suddenly, I hate this Thomas person with a heated passion that I’ve only ever felt when it comes to love. It wasn’t enough that he lured her away for the summer—my last summer—but he took a piece of my daddy away as well. I don’t care if he’s the nicest guy on the planet. I will never forgive him. Or her for that matter.

I walk towards my car and start to get inside when I hear her protest. “Cheyenne Hamilton, what are you doing?” she screeches, looking ridiculous as she stomps her foot.

“I’m not riding in that thing with you. I have plans later, so I’ll just follow you.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “You have plans and you’re looking like that? You could be so beautiful if you’d just put in a little effort. Right now, you look like a plain Jane. It’s no wonder you’re a virgin. It’s almost a disgrace to call you my daughter.”

The pain couldn’t have hurt worse if she’d have slapped me in the face. Does she really think so little of me? Is that why she’s always flouncing off with whoever she can? Taking a few deep breaths, I calm down as I hear Sawyer’s voice in my ear, telling me I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not a virgin anymore and he thinks I’m beautiful. While you were gone this summer, I fell in love, and for the first time in forever, someone actually loves me back. You might know that if you actually cared to spend time with your only daughter. If all you’re going to do is belittle me, then we can forget this whole thing, but if you’re ready to get off my case, then let’s just go please.” Without another word, I get into my car and wait until she pulls out of the driveway.

As I follow her down the highway and to the next town, her words replay over and over in my head. I get the urge to turn around, pack up my stuff, and hightail it to California, but then Sawyer crosses my mind. I can put up with her and Thomas if it means I get seven more days with him. The push and pull of my feelings is becoming overwhelming. I want to stay because of him. I want to run because of them. In the end, my feelings for him win out.

I pull into the parking lot behind the only country club in the county. My stomach rolls in apprehension at the thought of finally meeting the man who decided that putting a ring on my mother’s finger was worth it. I’m gripping my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to get up the nerve to get out of the car. A loud tapping on my window startles me, and I turn to see my mother gesturing for me to get a move on.

Slowly, I get out of the car, and I know it’s dramatic, but I feel like I’m walking down the Green Mile and Tom Hanks is just waiting to send me to my doom.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re acting like I’m about to introduce you to a monster. You’ll see that Thomas is a sweet man and he’ll be good to both of us.” As we’re walking through the doors, she turns to me. “I forgot to mention he has a son just a couple of years older than you. Isn’t that great? You always wanted a brother, and now you have one!”

It’s true. I always begged my parents for a baby brother to play with, but it never happened. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to like Thomas’s son. In fact, I vow to hate him just as much as I do his father. That is, until I walk into the dining room and follow my mother. A tall, broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper-colored hair stands to greet her, and she leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thomas, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Cheyenne,” she gushes, putting her arm around me like she’s actually proud to show me off.

He greets me with a warm smile, and something about it is painstakingly familiar. He holds out his hand, and even though I don’t want to, I decide not to be rude and place mine in his. He tries to give me a dainty shake, but I squeeze his hand, silently letting him know I’m not a wallflower. It only causes his smile to widen.