Page 23 of Sawyer
“Not sure one box would’ve been enough.”My smile is wide with the memory of that day, and her laugh finally escapes.I watch, mesmerized, as her face lights up, her smile widening and her head falling back, and I’m glad I’m sitting down because she’s so stunning I’d otherwise be knocked on my ass.
Gathering myself before she notices my staring, I ask, “Have you always lived out here?”I now want to know everything about her.
She stands, starting to clear the table of our dishes, and I follow her lead to help.I notice that besides from the TV, it’s eerily quiet.No streetlights on, no cars driving past.Aside from the occasional bellow of an animal, it’s silent.
“All my life.This farm belonged to my parents and my grandparents before them.”
“So it’s a generational thing?”I’m intrigued, her being all the way out here now making more sense.The history of the place is something that captures my interest.Family is important to her.If I didn’t pick up that fact by the way she’s close with her boys, I see it coming through now.
“Yes, although, I farm it a little differently than they did.My parents and grandparents mainly had cattle and other animals.I’m trying to cultivate the land and the rich soil to produce the best lavender and roses I can.Obviously, I still have some cows and chickens…” she looks at me with that cheeky smile, clearly alluding to the cow shit again, “…but they are more for consumption than profit.”
She lives off the land, I can see that.Her vegetable patch is huge, probably the size of a backyard swimming pool.I know Kevin milks cows, since that’s how Tanner knows him so well.No doubt the chickens outside provide the eggs, so she would be reasonably self-reliant out here.An easy environment to become isolated, if you’re not careful.Seeing her resilience and entrepreneurial spirit coming out, I’m starting to learn that this woman has many layers, and each one I peel back intrigues me more than the last.
We stand in the kitchen, and I look around, not seeing a dishwasher in sight.In fact, she doesn’t have a lot of modern appliances.The TV looks decades’ old, the sofas and rugs tattered and worn, no microwave or toaster.It needs a renovation, and while I can’t see the rest of the house beyond the living room, the outside is enough to tell me that it would probably blow over in a small breeze.I watch her concentrating on what she’s doing at the sink, and she bites her lower lip as she scrubs a dish.I need to swallow the growl that feels like it might escape, suddenly wanting to be the one biting that lip.
“How do you do it?”I ask her quietly, and her head swivels to look at me.
“What do you mean?”Her eyes search mine, and I swallow.
“How do you do it all?”We’re standing close, our voices low.Kevin’s totally engrossed in the TV, the commentary loud throughout the house.I look down at her, her soft pink lips parted slightly, her blue gaze looking me square in my eye.I’m barely breathing as my gaze darts between her eyes and her lips.My body wants to lean in, just for a little taste.
“Because I have to,” she whispers, and as we look at each other, her hair falls, a strand coming across her cheek, and with her hands wet in the sink, I don’t hesitate before I lift my hand, bringing it to her face.But before I can push her hair behind her ear, she flinches, and I still.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I say immediately.“What was that?”My heart is racing, my body unmoving.
“Nothing.”She forces a smile on her face, huffing a weird laugh that’s not humorous but awkward.My blood starts to boil at what her reaction could mean.
“Annabelle.Who…” I lower my hand, not touching her.It’s clear someone has touched her, and it wasn’t in the same way I want to.
“Yes!Home run!”Kevin yells, and Annabelle jumps like she’s been burned, then moves away, breaking the moment.I run my fingers through my hair and blow out a breath, not liking this at all.
“You know, let me just see if I can find that paperwork and grab that box of soap.I don’t want you driving home too late in the dark.”She dries her hands on the kitchen cloth and moves past me, not looking my way, and I feel on edge.I’m not stupid.There’s only one reason a woman flinches like she just did, and I’m feeling very fucking protective of her about now.
“Annabelle…” I step toward her slowly, taking a breath to calm myself, not sure what to say with Kevin in earshot.
“It has to be here somewhere.”Her voice sounds nervous, her movements a little jerky and shaky.I step up beside her, giving Kevin my back, offering her some privacy from him for this conversation.
“I would never hurt you,” I grit out softly, hoping she can hear my sincerity.
She looks up at me, those large blue eyes of hers filled with so many emotions.
“I know.I’m sorry…” She shakes her head, releasing a heavy breath.
I frown.“You have nothing to be sorry for.I want you to know that I’d never lay a hand on a woman, and I’m sorry if that’s something you’ve had experience with.”I breathe through my nose, because my teeth are clenched so tightly, I’m bound to break a tooth.
“Thank you, Sawyer.But I’m fine.Really.”Her hand finds mine.It’s a small move, but I grab on to her small palm and squeeze it, then I lift my other hand and slowly bring it to her cheek, brushing the hair from her face like I tried to before.She lets me this time, my touch so light I can barely feel her face.
I knew Annabelle was special from the moment I first laid eyes on her, ready to end my life with a garden hoe and scalding me for my language.But it’s becoming increasingly clear to me that this woman, while young, has had a lot of life experience and much of it’s not so positive.
My city charms aren’t going to work on her like they usually do with women in the city.It shouldn’t be surprising; she’s nothing like them, and in the best way possible.
“Let me just look in this pile.”A small smile dances on her lips as she breaks the tension, and I drop my hand from her face and let go of her other hand as she gets busy, looking among some more paperwork that’s scattered on the table.
I look out the small window that’s above her kitchen sink, seeing it’s pitch-black already, even though it can’t be much past seven.There are no lights, the cloud cover tonight hiding the moon so that doesn’t even create a glow on the land.Anyone or anything could be out there, and you wouldn’t even know it.
“I can just print a new one for you to sign,” I tell her, following her into the living space.
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere, but that might be for the best.”She runs her hands down the front of her thighs before she plays with her hair again.We both know she’s lost it.
