The Fundamental Theory of Us (13 page)

“I thought you quit.”

Josh waved him off, a white smoky breath clouding his face for a second. “I did, but shit’s just too unstable right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my damn brother.” Josh tapped his ash over the rail onto the ground. “Kid can’t keep it in his pants for more than three hours, and he’s got two girls pregnant. And who’s stuck playing double baby daddy?” He thumped his chest. “This fool right here.”

Andrew frowned, remembering Josh talk about his little brother AJ, and his baseball scholarship, and how proud he was of him. Their parents died when Josh was eighteen, and he’d taken his little brother in, raised him like a son, and now … Andrew sighed.

“Don’t get that look.” Josh’s cheeks hollowed on a deep drag. His dark eyes flared black behind the exhaled smoke. “I’m not taking on this extra responsibility because I feel some duty or whatever. And AJ’s not getting off scot-free, either. I’ve made stipulations, that he can’t touch his trust until he’s working fulltime and paying child support to both women. In the meantime, I’ll be doling out the support payments from his trust.”

“Smart move.” Andrew glanced back inside where Sawyer was elbow-deep in the sink with suds everywhere. She batted a bubble as it neared her cheek.

“You got it bad, my friend.” Josh laughed. “I can’t blame you. She’s a sweet girl. The math thing, well, I’m not touching it, but yeah. She’s all right. You going to your mom’s place for dinner?”

Andrew nodded. “Tomorrow. What are you doing for the holiday?”

“Working.” Josh stubbed out his cigarette, shoved his hands in his pockets, and eyed the sky. The sun began burning off the cloud layer, and blue skies stretched for miles. “You know how it is.”

“What are you up to these days?”

“Honestly? Bit of this and that. Found a space that would be perfect for a shop. Now I just need the capital, you know?”

Josh dreamed of opening a motorcycle shop. He had the skill and know-how, but lacked the start-up funds. He’d spend the money his parents left him raising his younger brother, and while he could, technically, dip into AJ’s trust, he wasn’t that kind of guy. He would work himself to the bone instead.

“Where is this place?”

“In town. Anyway, man, I’d better get going or I’ll be late. Heard you were back and wanted to stop by before work.”

Andrew shook Josh’s outstretched hand. He never was much of a hugger. Josh always put distance between himself and everyone else. “It was good to see you.”

“Yeah, you, too. Thanks for breakfast. Say good-bye to your girl for me.” Josh hopped over the railing and landed on the ground, and made his way around the house. In like a hurricane, out like a fox.

Chapter Twenty

The next morning Andrew, Sawyer, and Rosie left Jacksonville after lunch and made the three-hour drive to Murrell’s Inlet, South Carolina. Andrew let Sawyer drive, which gave her something to focus on instead of her nerves.

He called his mom and let her know they were on their way—she’d want time to get ready, though he didn’t know why. Mom always had the place spotless and she looked immaculate, in that way moms had.

The closer they got, the more anxious Sawyer seemed. Before reaching his mom’s place on the edge of town, Andrew directed Sawyer to a parking lot near the boardwalk. They stopped to stretch their legs, and when given permission, Rosie bounded out along Marsh Walk to chase the gulls. Andrew locked his truck and took Sawyer’s hand, walking her down to a coffee shop. He ordered two lattes, paid, and carried their drinks to a sunny spot where they could relax and watch Rosie.

“You don’t need to be worried,” he said.

“I’m meeting your mom, Andrew. This is the perfect time to be worried. Besides, what are we doing? I mean, I…” She stared at her paper cup and nibbled on her bottom lip.

“We’re taking it slow,” he reminded her softly. “Maybe I’m going too slow?”

She glanced up, her eyes clear and warm. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to do this.”

“What do you want? Right now. Right this moment.” He set his coffee down and pressed his palm to her cheek.

A thousand fears flashed across her face. “I don’t know. I want a lot of things and they scare me.”

“What scares you?”

“That I’m not … good enough. That, when you know the truth, you’ll run.”

“Sawyer.” He rested his forehead against hers with his eyes shut, breathing her in. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m the guy with one leg. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s going to make me change my mind about the way I feel for you.” Andrew opened his eyes and dipped his head, touching his mouth to hers in a gentle closed-lip kiss.

When he began pulling away, Sawyer grabbed his jaw and held him there, deepening the kiss. Somehow, he knew this part was important to her, that she be in control, and he let her. He parted his lips and kissed her softly. It seemed Sawyer didn’t want soft. Her tongue touched his and everything changed. She pulled him closer until his chest bumped hers, until they shared the same breath and space. He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her with everything he had, everything he was, and everything he wanted to be.

Andrew broke away from her mouth and kissed her cheek, her neck, the hollow of her throat, reveling in her murmured contentment and the way she relaxed against him. Finally.

Finally.

Rosie startled them apart, though not for long. He slid his hand into hers and Sawyer beamed a sunshine smile at him. Deep in his soul, he had never known a more perfect moment than this one. Here, with Sawyer, in the town where he grew up. She fit in his broken life. Somehow, she fit and made him better. He trailed a finger across the curve of her cheek, down to her collarbone. He felt the words rise up in his throat, words he never thought he would say again, and this time actually mean them, with every fractured piece of his soul.

Sawyer was silent on the drive to his mom’s place. Andrew let it slide. At least now there could be no doubt in her mind what she meant to him, and if any of those doubts lingered, well, he’d banish them, too. Rosie stuck her head out the window and took in the sights and scents of a place she’d never been. Coming home, to his childhood home, after so long, brought up a strange mix of emotions. Now he’d meet the newest edition to the family, on top of his younger brother’s girlfriend. And they were meeting Sawyer.

He parked in front of the cozy white and green house on three acres, set back in a small copse of pine trees. His parents bought the house for next to nothing, even with it being a beachfront property, and fixed it up. Originally built in the early 1900s, the house had history and character, and over the years, they had added their own. His mom was in love with
Anne of Green Gables
, and so his dad had painted the outside to match her description of the farmhouse. Since his dad’s death, Andrew kept up the paintjob in his place, though it looked like it could use a fresh coat now.

Andrew reached for Sawyer’s hand. He gave it a squeeze, then unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her closer. Her flowery-vanilla scent filled his nostrils. He kissed her, a soft kiss that turned into much more. Before he lost it and took her right there in front of his mom’s house, he pulled away and grinned.

“I’m glad you came with me.”

She glanced at the house, a frown forming. “I’m so terrified right now that I don’t think my legs will work.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of. I promise. It’s just my weird, hyper family.” A flash of green caught his attention and Andrew spotted his mom barreling through the front door. “Prepare yourself for a lot of ‘sweet Jesus’ and ‘Mother Mary’ as well as hugs.”

“What—?” Sawyer didn’t have a chance to finish.

Mom almost ripped the door from its hinges getting into his truck. She greeted Rosie with a bone, then turned her attention to Sawyer. “God have mercy, but she’s a beauty! Andrew, why didn’t you tell me your girl was so pretty?” Mom’s hands went to her graying hair, tied neatly in some fancy up-do. “I’d have made more of an effort than shoving my hair up and tossing on any old thing!”

“Mom,” Andrew warned gently. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“Oh, pooh on you, you old geezer.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Come here, love, and let me see you. That’s it.” Mom dragged Sawyer from the truck and held her at arm’s length for a beat, then folded Sawyer into a Mama Bear Hug—or MBH as Colleen used to say. “It’s so good to have you here, Sawyer, love. You’re to make yourself at home while you’re here, d’you understand?” Mom pulled back and Sawyer finally took a breath.

Andrew jumped to her rescue. “Where’s Colleen and the baby?”

“Oh! Andrew, she’s an angel. An absolute doll! Wait ‘til you see her, just wait.” Mom scurried back inside.

“Well,” he said, “That went surprisingly well. I didn’t think she’d let go.”

A nervous bubble of laughter burst from Sawyer. “This is just so … so
different
to what I’m used to.”

Andrew shut the doors to his truck and led Sawyer inside. They could get the bags later. “What are you used to? An ice palace?”

She frowned. “Pretty much. Holy crap, your mom’s house is full!”

Full was one word for it. In the front hall, every section of wall held photographs from birth to the last Christmas he’d spent at home, every stage of his life and his siblings’ lives, too. When the wall space ran out, Mom put a side table in the foyer and topped it with standing frames and little things they bought Mom over the years as gifts. Then there were potted plants on the floor and in stands, two hanging vines, and an overstuffed chair. And that was just the front hall.

Andrew removed his shoes, glad that he’d put a sock on his prosthetic foot. All he needed was for Nathan’s girlfriend to get freaked out by it—that’s if she didn’t already know. The way his family talked without thinking first, she probably already knew his life story. Sawyer followed suit and tucked their shoes under the table, on a mat. Voices filtered from the living room; Colleen and the baby, and Wes. Nathan added something and Andrew heard a female laugh he’d not heard before.

“Ready?” He smiled down at Sawyer.

“I don’t really have a choice.” She smiled, and Andrew thought it seemed forced. “I think I might throw up.”

“You’ll be fine.”

She inhaled a couple deep breaths, gathering her strength. “Let’s do this.”

“You act like we’re stepping out onto a battlefield, not hanging out with my family.”

“If you ever meet
my
family, you’ll understand why I’m a giant firecracker of nerves right now.” Under her breath, she added, “Let’s seriously hope that never happens.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Okay, so Andrew’s family was actually pretty great, and his niece, Sheridan, looked so cute in her little satin and frilly cloud of whatever Colleen dressed her in—was it a sleeping bag? Or maybe some kind dress?—that even Sawyer couldn’t keep her gaze away from the baby for long.

Nathan looked like Andrew with a lot less bulk and, if possible, brighter eyes. His girlfriend kept staring at him, sitting beside her at the table, like she couldn’t believe he was with her. Sawyer felt the same way about Andrew.

All through dinner, her thoughts kept drifting back to their kiss. She touched her lips and caught him staring. His pale blue eyes heated, making a long, slow sweep from her eyes to her mouth and up again. Oh boy. Had the kiss rocked his world as much as it did hers?

Andrew’s mom bustled into the dining room with a tray of pies, the usual pumpkin, and a sweet potato pie, Dutch apple, and cherry, too. Everyone in his family was slim and fit. Where did they put it all?

“Who’s having what?” his mom asked the room.

In unison, they all said “a little of each” and laughed. It must be a standing joke. Even Savannah, Nathan’s girlfriend, joined in.

Sawyer ate her thin slivers of pie with whipped cream and ice cream, and as she finished her last bite, her awareness of Andrew beside her, of his heat and strength, notched up to the ceiling. She spent the last two nights in the same bed as him. Today was the first time he kissed her. She wanted more, but fear kept her from asking. Or implying. Once they moved past that step, everything would change.

“No,” Nathan said, his voice cutting over the many conversations at the table. “It was Andrew’s fault. He’s the one who thought it would be a good idea to drive into town for ice cream at nine o’clock on a Friday night. Without a license.”

Andrew glanced at Sawyer wearing a sheepish grin. “I knew what I was doing.”

“Yeah, until Sherriff Granger caught you, and then you tried to put on some accent and pretended to be visiting from out of town.” Nathan slapped his knee as he laughed. “In Mom’s car, too!”

“It was pretty dumb,” Andrew agreed.

“And then he had me bail him out, so Mom wouldn’t find out about it.” Colleen beamed at her younger brother. “But of course, she did. You have eyes like a hawk, Mom.”

Andrew’s mom smiled, her eyes sparkling. “When you raise three children on your own, you notice everything. Plus, you both forgot to move the seat forward. I got in the car a few days later and couldn’t reach the wheel!”

More laughter, and this time, Sawyer joined in. If she had even thought about “borrowing” one of her parents’ cars without a license, without permission, she’d never see the light of day again.

Andrew’s mom continued. “He learned his lesson when, after he got his license, I made him chauffeur the whole bloody town around.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Andrew turned his attention on Colleen. “What about that time you got caught sneaking out one night, and you made me throw my toy out the window so you could say you were going to get it for me?”

The conversation went on, from one sibling mishap to another, until the desserts were finished and coffee was served, and Wes and Colleen took Sheridan home. Which brought her back to square one. Being alone with Andrew tonight. They were staying here at his mom’s place, and Nathan would be there, so it’s not like she had to worry about going through with
everything
tonight, but—

Andrew leaned in close, his beard scratching her cheek. “You doing all right?”

She turned and noticed his expression. Sawyer slid her chair closer and touched his knee under the table, a silent promise that she wasn’t going anywhere. In all her internal freaking out, she forgot that Andrew, though strong and solid and kind of scary-big on the outside, had reasons of his own for fearing she might bolt.

“I’m great.” She smiled, and she meant it.

“You look pale.”

She rolled her eyes. “I
am
pale.”

His soft, raspy laugh warmed her heart. “After this we’ll all go into the living room, and Nathan will probably put the game on, and Mom will fuss over us, making sure we’ve had enough to eat and drink.”

“You know your family well.”

Nathan began clearing plates. Sawyer stood to help. Andrew and his mom made her sit back down and told her to relax. Andrew joined his brother.

“If the women cook, the men clear up,” she explained.

Sawyer glanced from Mrs. Warren to Savannah. “But I didn’t cook.”

“You’re a guest. That gives you carte blanche for the night. I might ask your help in the morning with breakfast, though.”

Sawyer nodded. “Of course. And thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.” Much better than the pompous, over-priced Thanksgiving meals her parents served, where the dishes and cutlery alone were worth more than most people saw in their lifetime.

“Oh, go on.” Mrs. Warren blushed. “Savannah, dear. Can you fetch my glasses? I can’t remember where I left them.”

“Sure.” Savannah rose and left the dining room.

“I don’t really need my glasses.” Mrs. Warren winked. “I wanted a moment alone with you, dear.”

Sawyer’s heart lodged in her throat.

“When Andrew told me he was bringing someone, I thought, please don’t let it be that horrible Miranda. Then he mentioned your name, and I got all excited. Now you’re here and I don’t know how far your relationship with my son has progressed—”

“Oh!” Sawyer shook her head, mortified.

Andrew’s mom went on, undeterred. “—and it’s none of my business, but I completely forgotten to tell Andrew that I changed Colleen’s old room into a small library, which means we’ve only got the one spare room to use. Andrew’s old room. If you’re not at the stage where you’re sharing a bed yet, I’ll make Andrew take the couch.”

Was there a worse conversation to have with a sort-of boyfriend’s mother? Sawyer blushed down to the ends of her hair. If she said she didn’t mind sharing with Andrew, she’d be admitting that they had gone past where they actually were.

Sensing Sawyer’s dilemma, Mrs. Warren rose from her chair and put an arm around her. Sawyer inhaled her mom scent, a hint of something flowery mixed with spices from cooking. “I’m not asking for a confirmation of consummation, love. Just letting you know there’s no pressure.”

Oh God! Confirmation of consummation? That sounded like some Irish punk rock band. Sawyer groaned under her breath.

Savannah stepped back into the dining room, a confused look on her face. “I looked everywhere, but I can’t find your glasses.”

“Oh, heavens!” Mrs. Warren shot Sawyer a wink. “Seems I’ve had them ‘round my neck the whole time. Silly me.”

****

That night Sawyer sat in Andrew’s childhood bedroom, staring at the posters he’d put up, the little nick-knacks on the bookshelf, anything to distract herself. Andrew was in the bathroom brushing his teeth—something they did together in his house this time last night. She had put on her pajamas, brushed her hair and teeth, and ran out of things to do. Stalling. For what?

Things changed between them since he kissed her this afternoon. When he looked at her, the entire night sky exploded in her stomach. He touched her and her brain melted. She doubted they would do anything tonight, at his mother’s house. Somehow she knew that when he got into bed with her, things would be different.

He opened the door and stepped inside the room, then closed it softly behind him. Yep, definitely different. The muscles in his back—bare and muscled and covered in ink—flexed and strained. She’d learned those tattoos last night, traced them while he slept. Felt the scars beneath, ranging from pin-point small to thumb-sized and thick-ridged. She knew the majority of them, maybe even all, had come from the accident that took his leg. No, not accident. Deliberate sabotage.

“You look angry about something.”

Sawyer looked up, meeting his confused expression. “Just the past. I promise.”

He took a step toward her on his bed. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” She patted the spot beside her and Andrew sat down.

“You know I’m moving past it, right?”

“I do.” He admitted last night that he was seeing the therapist whose card he offered her. “And you have Rosie.”

“And I have Rosie,” he agreed. Rosie was spending the night on the first floor in a spot of honor near a potbellied stove in the living room. “And … you?”

She poked his arm. “I’m supposed to be the insecure one here.”

“Why’s that? By the way, you didn’t answer the question.”

“Andrew, I’m here. With you. That should tell you something, shouldn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re the one who knows what he’s doing here.”

Andrew took her hand in his. “We’re on a level playing field, Sawyer. But let’s not worry about steps we don’t have to take right now. Tomorrow night I want to take you out for dinner to this little place down the coast. You like crab?”

“Love it.”

He flashed white teeth. “How about shagging?”

She dropped her jaw. “Uh, what?”

“It’s a dance. Sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Oh, no.” She giggled. “Now I remember, I read it in a book once. Yeah, sure. We could do that. Dancing, I mean.”

“Good.” He pulled up his pant leg and began removing his prosthetic leg. Then he paused. “Sorry, I should probably do this somewhere else.”

“Why?”

Andrew wouldn’t meet her gaze, like he didn’t have an answer.

Though she didn’t know how it worked, Sawyer dropped onto her knees in front of him and brushed his fingers away. She’d show him, somehow, that this didn’t matter. It didn’t bother her, if that’s what he thought. She studied the prosthesis, not knowing the terms applied to the pieces. A thick, smooth beige layer came down first. She looked up, making sure she was doing it correctly. Andrew nodded. The hard angles of his face softened.

Next, she rolled a black knit layer down, revealing a white sock-like piece. Andrew stilled her hands and she leaned back on her heels, watching. Hoping she hadn’t upset him. He pulled his prosthesis off, followed by a white sock-type layer, and then a rubbery sleeve. His leg was gone below the knee. She had seen it the other morning, though the room had been mostly dark still. Now she saw all of it.

“There are no clips or anything,” he said, setting the limb aside.

“How does it stay on?”

“This system works with sort of a vacuum seal. When you put it all on, you start with the sheath”—he motioned to the rubbery-looking part resting on his thigh—“and add the liner.” He held up the white sock. “Then add some lubricant to the sheath part sticking up, pull up the gator, then the sleeve, and that’s it.”

It was a lot to take in. Sawyer hoped she schooled her expression well enough that Andrew couldn’t read her thoughts. A tornado swirled in her mind. Emotions she wasn’t ready to admit. She peered up through her lashes at him and found him staring back at her. Without speaking, she placed her hands on his thighs, inching forward ever so slowly. She held his gaze as she moved into the space between his parted legs. Andrew leaned into her until their breaths mingled between them and his heat surrounded her.

Andrew touched his lips to hers once, twice, soft brushes. Barely kisses. Sawyer leaned into him, keeping her hands on his muscular thighs, and pressed her lips firmly to his. A question he answered by kissing her fully, harder than he had earlier that day, and his hands roamed from her jaw to her shoulders, down her arms. He squeezed her wrists as his tongue met hers, then slid his hands to her hips and pulled her flush against him, where she felt his hardness pressing at her stomach. The man kissed her like only the air in her lungs would do.

Encouraged by his reaction to her, and the fact that she hadn’t melted into a puddle at his feet, Sawyer moved her hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under her fingertips. She reached his lower abs. He jumped, but kissed her harder, his hands shooting through her hair to tangle at the base of her neck. The sharp sting of him losing control made her smile at his mouth. Andrew chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and it vibrated through her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the outer edges of her mouth.

Sawyer sighed and let her head fall back. Andrew nipped and sucked his way down her throat, and she let her hands explore his abs blindly. When she reached the waistband of his cotton pants, Andrew stilled, and she kept going. Moving her fingers lower, dipping inside. And, sweet holy heck, he went commando. Her knuckles brushed the warm tip of his erection. Andrew hissed and grabbed her hands, the move bringing her fingers in full contact with his smooth hardness. Moisture covered the top and she slid a fingertip through it.

“Jesus, Sawyer.” He groaned, spreading his tongue over the hollow at the base of her throat. “You don’t have to do that.”

Looking up, she squeezed him, a little experiment, and Andrew shuddered. His hands fell away, leaving her free to touch him.

“I want to,” she admitted. “I’ve just never…”

At her sort-of admission, Andrew leaned back on the bed, swallowing hard. She still had her hands on him, pumping gently, unsure of how much pressure she should use. Not to mention what he liked. Weren’t all relationships at the beginning about trial and error?