The Fundamental Theory of Us (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

A cool breeze drifted through Sawyer’s hair, carrying hints of cinnamon and apples. She sat on a short dock staring out at Drunken Jack Island across the creeks. Beside her, Andrew dangled his legs off the end of the dock. He cradled a mossy green urn in his arms containing Rosie’s ashes.

Behind her, Courtney toddled along the dock, followed closely by Sawyer’s father. It was a miracle that Alannah let him bring Courtney. After recent events, Alannah hadn’t put up much of a fight where Courtney was concerned. In a way, Sawyer didn’t blame her—Alannah looked at her daughter and saw Chase. Sawyer looked past that to the amazing little person Courtney was turning out to be. Sweet and honest and free with her affection. Whatever evil lived inside of Chase couldn’t touch Courtney. She was too gentle.

Sawyer turned to Andrew and saw his too-blue eyes bright with tears. She bit her lip as her eyes filled. She hadn’t known Rosie as long as Andrew had, though it didn’t matter. Rosie had a way of worming into her heart. A canine version of her niece. Rosie’s time might have been short, but in that time, she touched so many lives.

“Andrew!” (
Anew!
) Courtney threw her arms around Andrew’s neck from behind. “I found you!” (
I foun you!
)

He made a choked sound that had nothing to do with the chubby little arms clutching him tight. “Hey, kiddo.” He handed the urn to Sawyer. “Come here. Let me see you.”

Andrew untangled Courtney’s arms with ease and swung her onto his lap. She shrieked and shoved her fingers in his beard, which he hadn’t trimmed since the night of Lola’s winter performance. Sawyer took a shuddering breath and glanced down at the urn through tear-fogged eyes. On the front was a photograph of Rosie from the day the three of them went for a picnic by the pond. A perfect moment on a perfect day.

“So you know Santa Clause is coming tonight,” Andrew said to Courtney.

Sawyer watched them, smiling through her tears.

Courtney frowned, her cupid-plump cheeks bright pink. “Will he find me?”

“Sure he will.” Andrew tapped her nose. “Santa has elf agents everywhere. He knows
everything
.”

Courtney’s eyes widened as she listened to Andrew. “Everything?”

“Everything. He even knows about the picture you drew before lunch.”

While Courtney gasped and clapped her hands in glee, Sawyer felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw her father.

“Can I have a moment alone with you, Sawyer?”

“Sure.” She kissed Andrew’s cheek, then followed her dad up the dock.

He seemed lighter these days. Looser. Freer. The lines around his eyes faded a little, and he smiled much more often. Getting away from Victoria Layne definitely had health benefits. They walked side by side in comfortable silence through the trees on Andrew’s mother’s property. She was inside the house right now, preparing a feast, and she wouldn’t let anyone help her. A few yards away on a double-swing hanging from a sturdy oak, Nathan and Savannah sat together tracing patterns in the dirt with their sneakers. They waved as Sawyer and her father passed.

Several more minutes passed and they reached the end of the property, lined by a fence painted white some time ago. The paint had begun peeling and sat half-hidden inside a frenzy of vines and hedges in need of a trim. Sawyer hugged Rosie, wishing she were here.

“I’ve been thinking,” her father began, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets. He lost the three-piece suits and donned casual slacks with a checkered button-down shirt rolled up to the elbows, displaying a light tan. “A lot, actually. About the young man who was in your apartment when Chase…” He broke off there. They all did. No one liked to think someone they knew—or thought they knew—was capable of bad things. “Well, I heard he lost his job because of his face. I’d like to help him, though I suspect he isn’t the type to accept charity. Do you have any ideas?”

Sawyer was about to answer when Courtney squealed nearby. She turned and saw Andrew with Courtney on his shoulders, her hands pulling his hair. His blue eyes sparkled in shafts of sunlight breaking through the treetops. He looked happy. More happy than he had in days.

“I have an idea,” Andrew said, “if you’d like to hear it.”

Sawyer’s father smiled. “I would.”

“Josh’s dream is to build custom motorcycles. If you went to him with a business proposal to open a garage as partners, he’d have a pretty hard time trying to turn it down.”

“In other words, make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

Sawyer lifted her gaze to the heavens. “Dad, you’re the last person who should be quoting
The Godfather
.”

He grinned. “At least I can put it in the right context.”

A prickly blush settled across her cheeks. Last night they played charades with Andrew’s family and Sawyer made such a fool of herself. At least this time, no stalkerish texts were involved.

“She’s good where it counts.” Andrew planted a kiss on her temple.

Courtney asked for a snack then, and Sawyer’s father took her inside to see Andrew’s mom. So far, her dad and Courtney were the only ones who hadn’t been kicked out of the kitchen. Preferential treatment, Andrew had muttered, and his mom swatted him with her tea towel.

Alone once more, Sawyer hooked her arm around Andrew’s waist and rested her head on his chest. He gathered her close, surrounding her with his clean woodsy scent, his strength, and his love. She tried not to think about the past, or Emory, who apologized a thousand times for stalking Andrew. Part of Sawyer couldn’t blame her—Andrew was pretty amazing. He was hers, and she wasn’t going to give him up.

Andrew’s warm breath swept over the top of her head. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Me, huh?” He leaned back and waggled his brows. “Anything good?”

“Sure.” She couldn’t stop the smile.

“Oh, boy. I know that look.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yup.”

She waited. He just grinned his foolish, gorgeous grin. “Well, what does it mean?”

“It means”—his lips brushed over her cheek—“you’re thinking about last night.” Another kiss, more pressure, closer to her mouth. “You loved it.”

A sigh escaped her. “So did you.”

“Hell yes.” His mouth landed on hers, his tongue pressing inside, meeting hers. He kissed her long, slow, and deep. “If we weren’t surrounded by family, I’d do it again. Right here.”

Her pulse sped up. “Outside?”

“Oh yeah. Maybe we should head home now so I can show you exactly what I want with you. Outside.”

Home. Andrew kept calling his house their home. She didn’t want to ask and hear him say it was a slip, or that he didn’t know what the future held. She wanted him, for as long as he would have her. Everything had an expiration date. Sometimes it was better not knowing.

“Hey, don’t do that.”

Startled, she met his icy hot gaze. “Do what?”

“Disappear on me. I’m right here, Sawyer, and I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

He kept doing that—reading her mind. Or maybe her emotions, considering she wore them on her face like the words in a book. “You know me,” she joked, “it’s not a day that ends in the letter ‘Y’ if I don’t worry about something.”

“But it wasn’t
something
. It was specific. It was us.”

She looked away, her heart skidding to a halt.

“Hey.” He guided her back to him with a finger under her chin. “You know I’m marrying you.”

“I do?” The words sounded whisper-thin.

“You should. I never believed in soul mates or anything like that until the day I saw you. From the first time I sat beside you, there was no one else. Only you.”

Sawyer couldn’t speak. If she tried, she’d end up squeaking like one of Cinderella’s mice. Andrew had other ideas. He carefully lifted Rosie from her arms and set her on a thick part of the hedge, then turned back to Sawyer. His eyes darkened a shade. His warm body surrounded her. His kiss was hungry, letting her know what was in store that night when they reached his mom’s house.

The kiss went on until Sawyer shuddered in his arms, wanting to be closer and also remembering where they were. She leaned into him, tracing the raised ridges of a tattoo on his back beneath his shirt. It hit her then that she could do anything now. Move past the fear and doubt. Maybe she could even create some kick ass art. Something for Andrew. Something for herself.

Andrew tightened his arms around her. “You okay?”

She nodded into his chest. She was better than okay. Life was far from perfect, and her family fell apart, but she had more support than most people did. Andrew loved her—more than that, he wanted a future with her. She wasn’t broken or ruined. Her scars were badges. She survived, and came out stronger on the other side. She took chances and made mistakes, and every day was a new opportunity to figure out who she was.

Sawyer slid her arms up around Andrew’s shoulders, linking her fingers behind his neck. He gazed at her with those intense, too-blue eyes, making her melt a little more inside. No, she wasn’t perfect. That was okay. She didn’t have to be perfect. She just had to be happy. With Andrew’s help, and Rosie’s, she finally felt at peace.

“What’s that look for?”

Sawyer flashed him a bright smile. “You.”

“Me?”

“Yup.”

“What did I do this time?”

She felt her eyes sting a second before a layer of tears clouded her vision. “You loved me.”

“Always,” he said, his lips curving.

“Always.”

The End

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